Page 90 of Hate Wrecked

“Is that what we’re doing?”

“You tell me,” I say before looking down. When I meet Rowan’s eyes again, he nods.

I dive down first after taking in a deep breath of air. Rowan joins me, and we cut through the water toward the black thing. When we reach it, I see it’s a trunk. The glittering thing isn’t in the trunk, it’s a heavy chain coming out of a hole in the side. The trunk is slightly ajar, a chain around it loosening. It’s rusty but there’s no algae. Inside, there is darkness, and I’m afraid to touch it. I push off the bottom, rising to the shore. Rowan joins me on the surface, running his hand over his wet hair.

“Okay, we go back down, and we each grab a handle. Hopefully, they hold. We’ll bring it to shore.”

I nod, taking in another gulp of air. We descend, each grabbing a handle of the trunk when we reach it. We push off in unison, cutting through the water with our free arms.

When we make it to the surface, I don’t look at the trunk. I simply stare at the shore and kick, bringing us closer.

I have a bad feeling, and I don’t want to face it.

When our feet touch the bottom, Rowan and I move toward the shore with determination. I glance at him. His furrowed brow and clenched jaw. Maybe he feels it, too.

We pull the trunk onto the shore, water leaking out the slightly ajar opening, pouring out of holes in the wood.

It’s a wretched smell. The sea and decay. Dark places and dark deeds.

I place my hands on my thighs and breathe, tired and dreading the next moments.

I stand straight, looking at Rowan, who is looking at me, frowning.

ANOTHER DARK RESTING PLACE

ROWAN

There issomething dead in there. The dread I’ve felt ever since we left Hawaii has found us.

I walk over to Riley, and she turns to me. I pull a strand of hair from her cheek before I can stop myself, pull away before her hand can touch mine in return. She shakes her head. “I don’t want to open that, Rowan.”

“We have to,” I say, turning toward the trunk. The chain around it has loosened over time, and when I pull on the lid, it opens enough for me to see inside.

Bones lie scattered on the bottom like scratch marks. The water does nothing to conceal their starkness against the black.

I let the lid drop, turning to Riley. I grab her hand and start walking to the shore.

“Man or woman?” Riley cries.

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about…I don’t know.”

She rips her hand from mine, covering her eyes with both palms. “I want to go home. I want to go home.”

Gone is her love for the island, her resignation to our fate. Gone is her acceptance of this place.

“I know,” I say, walking to her. I wrap my arms around her and kiss her wet hair.

She doesn’t hug me back, just exhales ragged breaths, escalating to a gallop.

“Riley,” I whisper. “You need to calm down.” I don’t want her freaking out. She can’t have a panic attack out here. I kiss her temple and say her name until she pulls her hands from her eyes and leans her forehead to my chest. She wraps her arms around me and starts to slow her breathing, realizing what I’m doing. She matches her breaths to mine, and I speak softly and slowly. I tell her it’s going to be okay. But will it? What do I know?

I will protect her here until the last day I’m alive. I will protect her from the elements, from time and nature and anything threatening us.

I just hope she knows.

Eventually, Riley pulls away, wiping her eyes.

“We need to...we need to get that out of the water. Do something.”

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