Chapter 31 – Emily

As I wait for Aiden to make his next move on the checkerboard, I can’t help but study him. I’m doing that a lot lately. He still hasn’t healed emotionally and mentally from what he did—killing that native—and the fate of the rest of the crash survivors. I worry about him, but then again, it’s only been thirty-two days.

Tom has been tirelessly weeding through Brenda’s research. He barely sleeps, and he eats even less. He’s miserable and snaps at anyone who dares question him—which only confirms my worst fear: he hasn’t found anything to help us get home.

“Your move,” Aiden says, snapping me from my thoughts.

I move one of my pieces and then nod at him to go. Marjorie is in the kitchen, cleaning. She’s been doing that a lot lately. Maybe it helps her cope with our situation. She’s taken on the role of mom, and I’m grateful for that. It makes being stuck in this bunker a little easier.

“Emily?”

I blink. “Sorry. What did you say?”

Aiden laughs. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just bored. I miss the sunshine.” I sigh.

He reaches over and takes my hand. “I’m sure Tom is getting closer to finding something that will help.”

I force a smile. I wish I believed that, but it’s been more than a month, and he’s not any closer to having answers than he was when we first locked ourselves down here.

“Lunch is almost ready. You two hungry?” Marjorie calls from the kitchen.

“Starving,” Aiden answers. He begins to pack up our game, and I help. He was winning anyway.

A moment later, Tom ambles out from what used to be Brenda’s room. He hasn’t shaved in days, and his eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep. There’s a paper clutched in his right hand. “I think I found something.”

I turn to stare at him, and the bunker falls silent. We wait for him to explain, but before he can, there’s a loud banging on the bunker door. I whip around, eyes wide. Aiden steps protectively in front of me. Marjorie drops a glass and it shatters. She gasps.

Tom grabs a rifle and approaches the bunker stairs. I slip my hand into Aiden’s, fear coursing through me. For thirty-two days, it’s been silence. Just the four of us living here like some weirdly matched family.

Whoever is up there attempts to yank the door open, but it doesn’t budge. There’s another loud bang followed by, “Brenda? Open up. It’s me.”

Tom glances over his shoulder at the three of us as if to ask, “Who is me?”

Shock washes over me, quickly followed by hope. “Is that the contact Brenda mentioned?” I whisper.

Tom shrugs. Then he hands the rifle to Aiden. “I’m going to open the door. If anything happens to me, shoot first, ask questions later. Understand?”

Aiden nods and takes the rifle.

Fear steals my voice, and I stand frozen, watching as Tom climbs the stairs and Aiden points the rifle. Even after everything I’ve seen and been through, I will never get used to this. After what feels like an eternity, Tom opens the bunker door, but he’s so far up, it’s hard to hear what he’s saying.

Then, he descends the steps. A man is right behind him. Tom takes the rifle from Aiden and while he doesn’t point it at the stranger, he doesn’t put it down, either.

“Who’re you?” Aiden asks.

“I could ask you the same thing,” the man replies.

“Sit,” Tom orders the man. “What’s your name?”

“Dean.” The man sits. “Who are you? And why is Brenda dead?”

“If you know she’s dead, why did you call her name a few minutes ago?” I ask. Suspicion bubbles up inside of me.

“She sent me a communication the day before my last scheduled supply drop. Said there was an issue on the island and to wait for another communication. I haven’t heard from her in weeks, so I flew out here to check on her.” Dean rubs his hands over his face, then pins Tom with a glare. “Now, who are you people, and why is Brenda dead?”

Tom dives into a lengthy explanation of who we all are, how we ended up on this island, what happened to the rest of the plane crash survivors and Brenda, and how we’ve been stuck here, looking for a way home.

When Tom finally stops speaking, Aiden says, “I’m sorry about Brenda. We tried to help her. We really did.”

Dean nods but remains silent. I shift closer to Aiden, trying—and failing—to hold back the hope building in my chest. This man flew here, which means he can fly us home.

“Brenda was my godmother,” Dean finally says. “I tried to convince her to leave this place, to just forget all about it, but she wouldn’t. She insisted she needed to help save the world.” He snorts and shakes his head. “I knew this island would be the death of her.”

Suddenly, Brenda’s refusal to reach out to her contact and her lack of information about him in this bunker makes sense. She was protecting him.

“For what it’s worth,” Marjorie moves from the kitchen, “Brenda helped us when we needed it the most. She was a good woman.” Marjorie smiles warmly at Dean.

“In her last communication to me, she said she witnessed something that renewed her faith in humanity.” Dean stood and rubbed his hands on his jeans. “I don’t know what you four did to make her feel that way, but it’s been the one thing she’s spent her life searching for.”

“We looked out for each other,” Tom said. “We were willing to sacrifice ourselves to make sure we were safe. We would have done the same for her.”

“Thank you.” Dean smiled. Then he looked at each of us in turn, his expression turning somber. “This island is nothing but a death trap. There’s no reason for anyone to be here any longer.”

“Does this mean…” I can barely contain my excitement. “Are you taking us home?”

Dean nods.

I let out a squeal and throw my arms around Aiden, hugging him so tight he can barely breathe. “We’re going home,” I cry.

Pulling back, Aiden finds my lips and gives me a quick kiss. “Our prayers have been answered.”

I smile. God is good, and I will never doubt Him again.

The End