Reagan knew Royce had lied to Emily about her mother—she’d seen it written all over Deacon’s face when he’d let Royce answer. That meant they had bad news, but Reagan couldn’t ask them about it now—not in front of Emily.
She waited for the opportunity to pull him aside and when she finally got it she was blunt with Deacon. “Don’t BS me—what do you know about Redemption?”
He turned away from the girls and leaned in towards Reagan. “It’s not good.”
FIFTY-NINE – Happy Place (Tara)
In the movie Happy Gilmore, when everything is going wrong for the namesake protagonist, he is urged to find his “happy place.” That location is not geographical but imaginative, and while ludicrous in Gilmore’s case, Ryan, being the dork he was, always used to urge me—when I was sad or moody—to find my own “happy place.”
The problem was Ryan was my “happy place.” When I was sick, or missing my parents, or struggling with anything else, he was the one who lifted me up. He physically and emotionally lifted me up. He had his corny jokes, his incessant flirting, his inappropriate pinching, and his impeccable terrible timing. He had everything that made me smile when I needed it. I knew that. I always knew that, yet when I lost Emily, I placed all the blame on Ryan. He knew that. I know he knew that.
Ryan had apologized a dozen times. He couldn’t have meant it more than he clearly did, but I never let him off the hook. I never openly accepted his apology. I was always afraid Emily was gone for good. Now they both might be.
Tears welled up in my eyes. I shook my head and looked down at Ollie, who had finally fallen asleep. Kate was also asleep, curled up in a ball, holding her stomach. She was weak, had lost a lot of blood, and was shivering like crazy, but keeping her out of the rain was all I could do for her. There were no blankets, towels, or anything dry of any sort for me to cover her up with. Kate just had to survive.
From time to time, I would poke her to force a grunt or groan, my only assurance Kate was still conscious enough to know what was going on around her. Every ten minutes or so, I reminded Kate that someone had to be coming for us. Someone had to know the island had been hit by the tsunami. Kate would mumble something back but never anything intelligible. I was starting to worry that if or when someone did arrive, it would be too late for Kate.
I drifted in and out of my memories. I remembered the last night Ryan had come into our room. He was frisky as usual, but I had pushed him away, over and over again. He finally gave up and left. I had shut the light off and rolled over—facing away from the door toward the mirror on the wall. A few minutes later, I saw Ryan appear in the doorway, and he stood there for at least twenty minutes—silently watching me. He was still there when I fell asleep. He didn’t know what to say or do. He only wanted me to let him in to whatever I was feeling, but I just left him standing there. I completely shut him out.
When the storm hit, he had been there with his arms wrapped around me, whispering in my ear, telling me he loved me, and telling me everything would be okay. He was right, and he was wrong. This was not okay. Everything was not okay.
As much as I knew I loved Ryan, I had not said it back to him once tonight. I hadn’t given him any indication that I’d forgiven him for something that wasn’t even his fault. I hadn’t done what I should have done for the only man I’d ever loved. It was too late now. Ryan was gone. The ache in my heart made me want to scream. I thumped my head back against the tree trunk behind me, bit my trembling lip, and screamed inwardly. Damn it, Tara. Damn it. I shook my head and thumped it against the tree trunk once more. You’re such an idiot. You stupid, selfish, stupid woman.
At some point I must have drifted off, because something suddenly jolted me wide-awake. The rain had almost completely died down—we had to be at the edge of the hurricane—and I swore I could hear a motor. Or a boat. I tried to stand and realized I was holding something—Ollie. Wow, snap out of it.
I reached over and poked Kate. There was no grunt or groan this time. Shit. “Kate.” I poked her again. “Kate.” I shoved her. “Kate.”
Finally there was a low moan and a little movement. “They’re coming,” I said, though I wasn’t yet certain of that, or of what it was I’d heard. “Someone is coming.” No reply from Kate. This is not good. Hold on girl. Just hold on.
And then there was a light in the sky. Or was it two? They were distant and looked at first like parallel shooting stars, but they were coming right at us—getting bigger. And louder. The lights were approaching from Kauai. Within minutes, the sound accompanying the lights was unmistakable. Helicopters. I wanted to stand up and scream, “Help,” but moving hurt way too much. I raised one arm in the air and waved it weakly, even though I was certain they couldn’t yet see me. “We’re right here.” Did I say that out loud or just think it?
I reached out and poked Kate again. “They’re here.” I kissed the top of Ollie’s head. “They’re here, baby.”
A couple minutes later, the helicopters were circling overhead, with several spotlights searching the ground for life. I continued to wave my arm, and finally the light settled on our makeshift shack. Finally the light focused in on us. The helicopter moved off a few hundred yards, the light disappearing, but I knew they’d seen us. I knew someone was coming.
The next few minutes of darkness felt like an eternity, and the voice I heard next couldn’t have been real. It had to be an angel.
“Mommy, Mom, I’m here,” it said. It sounded like she was shouting.
I heard myself say, “You don’t have to shout.” And then someone took Ollie from my arms. Then I too was being lifted up. That was when I passed out.
SIXTY – Blaze of Glory (Hayley)
One minute Blake was telling us how crazy it was that there was this much water in Bear Creek—“This was dried up a decade ago. They have to have blown the dam up top.”
The next minute he was pulling us to a stop and hushing us.
“What?” I asked.
“I know that sound.”
All I could hear was the river beside us. Danny and Eddie were looking around. The rest of us were staring at Blake. Then we heard a strange crackling and popping sound—like God was eating a bowl of Rice Krispies. Blake nodded. “Yep.”
We could smell the smoke well before we could see the fire. And then flames were everywhere, converging on us from every direction.
On the map we were just west of where Keller Creek joined Bear Creek. We had been descending quickly through the rocks beside the river for the past two hours, somehow avoiding detection from the dozens of choppers and planes that had passed overhead, and the occasional truck of troops that rolled by on the Santa Ana Trail alongside the river.