Page 43 of Last Destination

“I have an idea, but it’s a shit one.” His words pulled a laugh, manic and deep, from my chest. Instantly every bone in my rib cage bloomed with pain. Any idea we’d had since we’d crash-landed was a shit one. There wasn’t possibly a good idea left.

I couldn’t stop the giggles from bursting free before they melded into fierce, soul-crushing sobs. Both men looked at me as if I had three heads.

What the hell was wrong with me? I was a visitor in my own body, completely at the mercy of … who, exactly?

“Do it.” Madman’s response was a command, not a request. He stroked a hand up and down my back like I was a timid kitten, as I watched Charlie dance through the tenters like this was some sort of theme party.

Jamie jogged over to a young man blowing up an air mattress. They spoke for several minutes in rapid Spanish. I could only see their lips move, but it was obvious they were haggling, though for what, I didn’t know. Jamie produced a twenty from his pocket and handed it to him, in exchange for the … air mattress?

He awkwardly picked the inflated bed up and brought it back over to where we sat.

“He says the current can take us there.” He carefully laid the mattress down on the long grass right where Charlie had been lying. “We’ll go down the river on this. He said people have done it before.”

“You can’t swim,” I murmured, shocked he would even make the effort. Jamie was terrified of the water. He said a prayer every time we flew over the open ocean, and hadn’t even gone to the public pool for his kids’ swimming lessons.

“No, I can’t.” He blew out a long breath between his teeth. “But I agree with Madman. We need to get you to a doctor.”

My hand crept into my pocket, fingering the delicate necklace chain that held the key to my heart. Charlie shouldn’t be here with me. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind I knew she didn’t belong here.

“I need … my meds.” I admitted, the words so bittersweet on my tongue. Meds meant Charlie would go away. Meds meant the agony in my chest would lessen, too.

Dance with me, Marley. We’re not going to have much time.

Charlie bounced back to us with an elated spring in her step, but with each step forward she lost some of her shine. Her dress unraveled into bloody rags and bright green eyes dulled into lifeless lumps. Dirt, blood, and spittle coated her skin, and her lips pursed into a silent scream.

“Charlie!” I whimpered. In my head, out loud, I couldn’t tell anymore.

“We leave now,” Madman snarled, then stood effortlessly with me flailing in his arms. “Get it in the water.”

He carried me to the water’s edge and laid me down on the air mattress, removed his pack and placed it in the center as a pillow. I curled up in the fetal position and squeezed the necklace between my palms, whispering my apologies to someone who couldn’t even hear them.

A hand stroked my brow before splashes in the water propelled us forward. I squeezed my eyes shut, desperate for the anguish in my chest to be freed. Every atom in my body had depleted its energy. Truly nothing was left in me to go on.

It’s time to let me go, Marley.

Charlie’s voice sounded ethereally calm as the words drifted into my ear. Hot tears bled down my face, and I curled into a tighter ball until my ribs felt like they would break under the pressure.

I held the necklace so tight against my palm, the compass imprinted in my skin. I stared at my North Star until my eyes blurred, too heavy for anything but sleep. Nothing was left in this world for me anymore.

Maybe you’re right, Charlie. Maybe it’s time for me to let go, too.

My mouth flooded in anticipation of the vodka’s taste.

Eagerly, I dug out my bills and purchased two skewers, two bottles of water, and the innocuous-looking pint of cheap toilet swill I wouldn’t have spent two shillings on in London, but nearly cleaned out my twenty with here.

My fingers tingled as I held the bottle by its neck, carrying it like it meant nothing to me, when it was my Goddess incarnate. When I returned to Ambrose and handed him the skewer and bottle of water, he tossed me one of his genuine smiles, the rare flash of teeth that lit up his whole face and brought out the smallest dimple on his left cheek. When he eyed the vodka, his bright smile collapsed into a concerned frown. Before my hackles could rise to defend my purchase, he spun on his heel and beckoned me forward.

“Come on,” he called behind him as he marched towards a low row of plywood boarding sheds each barely the size of two twin beds. “I rented us a shack” — his muscles bunched across his back as if shuddering the word — “so we can get some rest while we wait.”

Oh. That was smart of him. I took one last scan of the emptying river. My brain knew I wouldn’t catch a glimpse of Marley, but my heart still clung to the hope. When she didn’t magically appear with a smile and an accompanying Madman, I turned on my heel to follow Ambrose, the elixir of life still tingling in my palm.

We walked down a shaded path lined with sheds on both sides. Ambrose stopped in front of a graffiti-scratched door Madman would have to duck to get through. A latch with a small padlock kept us from entering, and Ambrose produced a key from his pocket to unlock the door. It swung outward, revealing a single cot without bedding and a small metal chair. The floor was dirt, but the space was clean — certainly far cleaner than any space we’d slept since our time in the jungle.

Ambrose walked in, sneered at the surroundings, then released a deep unsettling sigh, as if this was truly his rock bottom. Snorting, I waltzed in after him and sat on the hard chair. It creaked under my weight, even though I was at least ten pounds lighter from our plight. Ambrose closed the door behind me and produced the lock he’d taken off the outside, swinging it into the inside latch and locking it again.

An open ridge all along the eaves of the roof let in light and fresh air, but by all accounts, we were the safest we’d been in what felt like years.

My companion folded his arms across his chest and eyed the liquor in my hands once again.