Chapter 14 – Emily

It takes almost an hour for the rain to stop, and when it does, I’m soaked and frozen to my core. I can’t stop shivering, and my teeth chatter so violently they ache. Standing near the now extinguished fire, I wrap my arms around myself in a feeble attempt to regain some warmth and look around. Everyone is as wet as I am, and they all look just as miserable, too.

Tom stops near me, a sympathetic expression tugging at his features. “Emily?”

His voice pulls me from the trance I’ve been in. Blinking, I focus my gaze on him. “Yeah?”

“Where’s Aiden?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. He said he was going to help…”

Tom nods. “Are you okay?”

I laugh. It’s a wholly inappropriate reaction, I know that, but I can’t seem to stop myself. Am I okay? No. I’m not. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again, at least not as long as I’m stuck on this horrible island.

With a sigh, Tom takes off his waterproof jacket and drapes it around my shoulders. His hands rest on my upper arms. “Sit.” He guides me down until I’m sitting in one of the plane seats, then he kneels in front of me. “You’re going to be okay, Emily. We all are.”

I nod like my head is on autopilot.

“Stay here. I’ll find Aiden to come sit with you.” He stands.

“Thank you,” I mumble, but he’s already gone. Why is he being so nice to me? What did I do to deserve such kindness? My parents aren’t even this nice to me.

A moment later, Aiden is crouched in front of me. I don’t give him the chance to say anything before I fling my arms around him. He hugs me back, and it’s exactly what I need right now. The weight of everything crashes down on me, and I’m powerless to stop the onslaught of tears.

Everyone who can helps us probably thinks we’re dead.

Rescue isn’t coming.

I’ll never see my parents again. Or my brother. Or my friends.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Aiden whispers.

I wish I believed him. I wish I had his faith so I could blindly believe God will protect me. But I don’t. And He won’t. If He was real, if He truly cared, we wouldn’t be stuck here, suffering.

“Can we have everyone’s attention, please?” Tom’s booming voice cuts my pity-party short.

I pull away from Aiden and wipe the tears from my face, sniffling. Aiden cups my cheek with his large, warm palm. “Emily.” His tone is as pained as the look in his eyes.

“C’mon.” I stand. “We better go see what Tom wants.” I step around Aiden and shuffle through the wet sand toward the converging group. Guilt stabs at me for not offering Aiden the same comfort he just gave me, but I’m emotionally spent.

Aiden steps up beside me, and silently, he slips his hand into mine. Lips trembling, I give him a small smile and squeeze his hand. Somehow, I’ll pay him back for everything he’s done for me.

“Did anyone see what happened?” Tom asks.

A chorus of no’s and simultaneous head shakes ripple through the group.

He rubs the back of his neck. The stress of the past couple days is displayed on his face like a neon sign. My heart aches for him. For all of us.

“Okay, well, we need to clean up the damage,” Tom says.

My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. The “damage” is nothing more than twisted metal and… charred bodies. I gag. He can’t seriously be suggesting what I think he is. Is he?

“You’re not saying we have to…” Larry falters, then clears his throat. “Move the bodies?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Tom’s tone isn’t quite as commanding as it was a second ago. “As unpleasant as it is, we can’t just leave them scattered on the ground.”

Jason steps up and places a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “Tom’s right. These poor souls need to be laid to rest.”

“You want to bury them?” My voice sounds oddly detached from my body.

“What? No. No way,” says the man standing right next to me.

“What do you suggest, then?” Marjorie asks, arms crossed. “Would you rather burn them some more?”

The group erupts in shouts and protests. Some people start shoving each other, some punches are thrown. I yank on Aiden’s hand, and we move out of the way. “This is crazy,” I mutter.

“Okay, people, let’s settle down,” Jason says, but no one is listening to him.

“I’m not burying anyone,” a man hollers.

“Burning them is sadistic,” someone else shouts. “How dare you even suggest that!”

“Well, we have to do something,” Marjorie argues.

“Yeah,” Larry jumps in. “If we leave them, we’re asking for wild animals to attack.”

“If an animal was going to attack, they would have already,” the man from earlier says. “Stop being stupid.”

“I’m stupid?” Larry points at himself. “Let me show you how stupid I am.” He balls his hands into fists and raises them, preparing to fight.

Marjorie plants herself between Larry and the other man. “You want to talk about being stupid. What do you think will happen if we just leave all these dead bodies lying around? They’re going to start to smell. Is that what you want?”

I watch in utter horror as our once considerate group of survivors turns on each other.

“Enough!” Tom’s voice echoes around us. Everyone stops, but the tension is still thick enough to choke on. “Burning a body is illegal. If we do anything, we bury them, and we keep a record of who is buried where so when rescue does arrive, we can properly report the deceased to the authorities.” There’s so much passion and vehemence in his tone, I wonder if he lost someone in this crash.

“Look,” Jason says, ignoring Tom’s statement. “I know many of you have lost loved ones, and they mean a great deal to you, but Marjorie is right. The bodies will begin to smell, worse than they already do, and for our own safety, we don’t want to invite wild animals into this camp.” He pauses, and his expression softens. “I vote for a proper burial.” He raises his hand as if taking a vote.

The very last thing I want to do is dig holes and bury dead bodies, but I also don’t want to walk around them every time I move. But I’m only seventeen. I shouldn’t have to make these decisions. The threat of fresh tears burns my throat.

“Exactly how are we supposed to dig graves without any shovels?” Mark asks.

Silence descends as people consider his question.

“We don’t,” Tom says.

“Tom,” Jason says, confusion and hurt dripping from his tone.

“We move them out of the way, and when help arrives, they can decide what to do with the dead.”

“Move them where?” Jason asks.

“Over there.” Tom points to where the remnants of the rear of the plane sit. “We can pile them under that section of the tail. It will provide some cover.”

“But it won’t help with the smell,” Marjorie says.

I glare at her, wishing she’d just shut up already. Despite having valid arguments, I don’t want to hear them. I don’t want to even think about them.

“We can build makeshift walls around them, and then we’ll cut up the life rafts and use them as a tarp,” Mark suggests. “It’s far from perfect, but it can work until help arrives.”

The group is once again silent, but no one voices any objections.

“Okay then,” Tom says. “Mark, you can lead a team to build the structure. Marjorie, can you get a group together and get that fire going again?”

Marjorie nods.

“Everyone else who is physically capable, let’s get these bodies moved,” Tom says.

“When the task is done, we’ll pray for these lost souls,” Jason says solemnly. “They’re in God’s hands now.”

As soon as the work begins, so does the rain—again. It’s going to be a long night.