Disclaimer: I do not own Flight 29 Down or the Twilight books by Stephanie Meyer (including New Moon, Eclipse, and Breaking Dawn).
SPOILER ALERT!! This story takes places directly after Breaking Dawn and will contain plot details from it and the rest of the books. DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS IN BREAKING DAWN! This story also includes important details from Hotel Tango.
Author's Note: It's not the end of the story for the castaways of Flight 29 Down nor the paranormal residents of Forks. This story will have around thirty chapters (give or take) and I will upload two per week. The chapters will alternate between the points of view of Flight 29 Down members (Melissa and Jackson) and the folks from Forks (Jacob, Seth, Leah, and Nessie). There will be a sequel directly following this story called Waning Moon. Enjoy!
Melissa Wu dreamt of wolves. She could hear them calling lonely and anguished. She smelled their musky scent as she brushed up against their mammoth shoulders. In her dreams she ran with the wolves. Her head was full of impossible speed and intoxicating power. The first night she dreamt of them she awoke abruptly, sweating, in her ever degrading sleeping bag. She didn't cry out, didn't scream. She just breathed until her heart rate was back to normal and listened to Daley's soft snore's beside her.
Ever since that night the wolves became her constant companions. Every night she would run with them and every night the dreams would become more vivid. The wolves were larger than she first perceived them. They were massive with rippling muscles and powerful haunches. In the morning she was left feeling unsettled and anxious. Her brain struggled to comprehend the dreams as she lugged water and tried to demistify the meaning behind them while she cut fruit.
She was extremely careful to guard these dreams. She knew Daley would shrug them off and Nathan would be politley concerned until a much greater disaster became caught his attention. She would never tell Eric or Taylor. Lex might be somewhat helpful but she didn't want to burden his young self with her peculiar dreams. He already had too much to think of. And Jackson? What would Jackson say? Somehow she couldn't bring it up with him. She could seem him becoming more agitated and restless each day. She had an irrational belief that telling him these dreams, that were already so filled with desperation, would be the catalyst in what she knew was coming.
When Abby arrived back at camp, feral almost , Melissa knew that nothing would be the same. Abby brought a whirlwind of doubt to the camp. Daley blamed her for breaking up the group, but Melissa knew it had started long before that. After all she had been dreaming of it for months. Dreaming of escape, of change, and pounding paws. Eric had been rebellious from day one and Jackson, well she knew him and understood. When they stood together near the end Melissa could not bring herself to raise her hand despite Daley's anguished face and Nathan's apparent disappointment. When they first crashed on this deathly beautiful island separation meant death, but now, undeniabley, staying together would doom them. It was decided. They would break up. Their family would dissemble for the greater good and Melissa's heart was torn in two.
Abby and Eric's absence would cause her to worry she knew, but Jackson. . . . she ached at the thought of him leaving. She was unmistakenly drawn to him. He was craggy and intense. He needed her. He needed her to give him "security" and she needed to give it to him. Despite what everyone else thought, Melissa did not like being vulnerable. She thrived in the role of caretaker and could not stomach victim. She had catered to the feelings of her mother all her life, she catered to Nathans for much of his, and now she longed to lose herself in caring for Jackson. Especially now , stranded on this island with only her desperate worries and the inner dramas to focus on.
She went to him that night. The moon was swollen and pulsating in the sky as she trudged through the sand. She hadn't made up her mind yet. Her heart was waiting, throbbing with the moon. She came up behind him careful, quiet. She didn't want to startle him. She didn't want to spook him into running away. She was partially hidden behind a tree and in the darkness of the night Jackson couldn't see her. He was kneeling somewhat awkwardly in the sand shoulder muscles working as he sawed mercilessly away at a discarded branch. Suddenly he flinched and cursed harshly. Melissa was at his side in a second. He looked up at her in suprise. Melissa knelt next to him seamlessly and saw that he was clutching his left hand. He was silent as she took his hand in hers and opened his clenched fist with her own capable fingers. There was a long gash across his palm. Blood had already started seeping and it looked maroon in the dark. Melissa felt for some ludicrous reason compelled to lick the blood away, to clean the wound. This stupid island was making her wild just like Abby. She almost laughed out loud at the thought. Melissa Wu, wild girl.
"We need to clean it," she whispered meeting his eyes. Jackson blinked. He was still in shock. Whether it was from the gash on his palm or her sudden appearance she couldn't telll. He cleared his throat.
"Yeah. Yeah, that's a good idea. But I don't have. Well, I don't" he stuttered. But Melissa had already ripped her bandana in two and had wetted one with her own water bottle. She moved to sit indian-style and motioned for him to do so as well. He nodded and followed suit, but stretched his legs out in front of him. Melissa was intent on her task and began to gently clean the wound. At first Jackson winced but soon he relaxed and she was acutely aware of his even breathing rustling the naked hairs of her arm. After she had finished cleaning the wound she took the dry bandana and tied it tight around his hand.
"There!" she said making a show of dusting of her hands. "My work is done" she told him cheerfully glad to find a way to break the intensity. She looked up at him smiling. "Of course you'll need to visit the first-aid kit later. This is just a temporary fix!". He didn't seem to register her words. He was staring at her hard, like he couldn't figure something out. Growing uncomfortable under his gaze Melissa picked up the camp knife he had been using and and wiped it in the sand. "You should be more careful," she said more seriously studying the slightly pitted edge of the knife. Melissa's concentration was broken when Jackson jumped to his feet and started pacing back and forth in front of her.
"Jackson," she whispered. "What's wrong?". He whirled to face her brow furrowed and jaw tight.
"I can't stay here," he told her voice edging on angry. He folded his arms defiantly and glared at her. Melissa was taken aback by his sudden change in manner. She slowly rose to her feet.
"Jackson..." she began reaching out to him. He held up a hand to stop her, the bandaged one, tied with her bandana. Jackson followed her gaze and dropped his hand, sighing. Suddenly he looked tired and his shoulders slumped. His voice cracked when he spoke.
"I just can't stay here Mel. It's killing me. Just don't... I can't ...," Jackson kicked the sand in frustration. He looked at her again eyes both pleading and angry at the same time. "I have to do something,".
All at once Melissa understood. She closed her eyes and she could feel the anxiety emanating off of him matching her own manic feelings. She could almost feel the ground shake benath her from the pounding of the paws of the wolves from her dreams. She opened her eyes and looked skyward. The moon blinked back at her through the trees. The pulsating stopped and her heart bacame still. She knew the answer now. Jackson was staring at her again.
"I know," she said. "I know, and I'm going with you,"
The next morning Melissa set off with Jackson, Eric,and Abby. She said her good-byes however painful and marched away, away from camp, away from certainty, and even farther away from sanity. Melissa thought that running would help, that breaking away from the others and "doing something" as Jackson had said would ease the tremendous anxiety within her. But the dreams didn't stop. Even while exploring the island the wolves intruded on her daily thoughts. Sometimes collecting firewood she would see a massive shaggy form out of the corner of her eye only to turn and nothing would be there. Other times she could almost swear she smelled something pungent, woody, and wild only for it too to fade and she could only smell the salty air from the ocean.
She tried her best to focus all her attention on helping her friends, but there were moments where she would catch herself coming quickly to a rage. She snapped at Eric more than once and had a difficult time not wringing Abby's neck. She was surprised at the visciousness rising up within her. She was terrified of it. With only Jackson could she keep her cool. She could just watch him and her blood would cool and her heart calm. It was the pure ectasty on his face, the thrill of being in charge of his own fate, the knowing that he was in control of the future in that very moment. Melissa longed for that control, she craved it, for she saw in her future something immense and life-altering. Something she was fighting with all of her being. She was in horror of these feelings and images in her head. Something was going to happen, worse, much worse than being stuck on this island, and it scared the hell out of her.
Still, she continued to do her best. She threw herself into helping the others. Whenever there was task to complete she volunteered, whether it was collecting fruit, fetching a sleeping bag to catch an unruly chicken, or to sail the altered pilot's raft to get help. She did all she could do to keep the wolves and the panic that accompanied them from bubbling up in her consciouness. No one noticed her internal struggle. They were all dealing with their own demons. Jackson was caught up in their mission and clearly not open to Melissa's gentle proddings. Abby was still wild and Eric was just ... Eric. The day that Eric had almost drowned, Melissa had to fight herself from killing him anyway. As they lay panting on the beach terrified and sopping wet Eric had the gall to snipe at her. Snipe at her! The one who had just saved him. The one who had been saving him consistently on this god forsaken island and he had the nerve to criticize her! Suddenly she was sick of it. Anger replaced her fear and she tore into him. She could see his blood shot eyes get wider and wider as she spit out everything that she had been wanting to say to him since the first day, hell since the first grade.
"Survival of the fittest" she growled at him pushing herself off the ground.
In that one second she understood what Abby had been trying to say. She wasn't going to carry him and apparently Eric had got the message. Much later that evening he had muttered an embarrassed apology to her and even though she had prepared herself to be much angrier at him for a lot longer she had to let him off the hook.
Truthfully the anger wasn't about him. The anger was about the fear. It had occured to her while dragging Eric out of the ocean water that she shouldn't be able to that. She had never been a strong swimmer and now here she was fighting the current and pulling a boy that weighed more than she did with her. She didn't want to think about it anymore. Didn't she have enough to deal with without this nagging anxiety and uneasy awareness that something wasn't right? It was just about surviving and getting through. Before on the beach she felt she didn't have enough energy to be constantly saving Eric and now she felt like she didn't have enough energy to even stay mad at him, to even think about him. She had to survive this and that meant letting everything else go. She wouldn't worry. She wouldn't care. She would just do what needed to be done. Thankfully, as it turned out later. She didn't need to even consider Eric. He managed to get a grip of himself in the hours to come and altered his attitude so much so that it shocked everyone including her.
The suspense and accompaning distracting emotions following Eric's near death experience was enough to carry her through to the end of their time on the island. Running into the others and staying safe from their old pilot kept her adrenoline pumping and her mind constantly on the action at hand. It was only after the outpouring of utter happiness and relief that came from the sight of the rescue planes did the wolves return and she could hear them whining and yipping in the corner of her mind as she packed up all of her things. There was a storm coming literally and metaphorically. Her dream wolves seemed to be warning her of it's upcoming arrival. Their resucers had called the impeding tropical storm "Melissa" and she almost gagged on the irony.
She was sitting crouched on the ground when he came up behind her, an almost reversal of their positions from the day they left camp. His acceptance of her help soothed her anxious self almost as much as his careful embrace. He held her softly but with enough pressure to let her know that he had made his choice. When they pulled apart he was looking at her again. His look was appraising, but a little confused also. She suspected that having someone practically devote themselves to him and his wellfare was something completely foriegn to him and therefore confounding. Quickly though she became uncomfortable under his gaze and blushed slightly.
"What?" she asked him, slightly irritated. You would think she would like this open gawk-fest from Jackson, but now she felt oddly transparent and was afraid that somehow he could see the insanity in her head. She hated feeling like that. Jackson blinked.
"You're hot," he told her. Melissa couldn't stop her eyebrows from raising in surprise and she could feel a blush working its way from the back of her neck.
"No! No, sorry. That's not what I meant. I meant your skin! I mean, your skin is hot to touch!" he almost shouted, flushing himself, and standing up quickly. Melissa narrowed her eyes in thought. She didn't feel warm. Maybe she was coming down with something? She sighed deeply. Great, that's just what she needed. Jackson took her defeated expression as something else and quickly back tracked.
"Oh, not... not that your not... " he stuttered looking vastly uncomfortable. Melissa felt her blush deepen and she held up her hands in protest.
"I understand," she said and smiled slightly while rising to her feet. "I'm going to go see if Nathan needs any help. I'll see you in a bit," she told him and walked away swiftly before he could get another word in.
"Later," Jackson called after her. Melissa smiled again and let her embarrasment ebb away from her. At least that was going well. She laughed nervously and waved to Nathan who was down the beach struggling with his own pack. He squinted his eyes at her and grinned, laughing because she was laughing. She shook her head in wonderment. It seemed just yesterday that she and Nathan were goofing off and laughing on the plane. Melissa felt the wind pick up, tugging on her hair. She glanced up at the storm rolling there direction. Already she could see little pricks of lightening already flashing in the the distance.
"Are you ready miss?" a man wearing a bright orange vest asked.
"I think so," she told him. He smiled and she could see the age lines surrounding his eyes.
"I hope so," she whispered to herself as he walked over to Jory and asked her the very same question. Melissa breathed in deeply savoring the air of the island and the sand beneath her feet.
"I hope so," she whispered again staring at the coming storm once more, but in her heart she knew that she would never be ready for whatever disaster was on the horizon.
Author's Note: Alright! You made it through the first chapter! Hopefully, you didn't fall asleep. The next chapter will be from Jacob's point of view. Once again, SPOILER ALERT!! It will contain details from Breaking Dawn. Thanks for reading! Reviews, comments, grammar and spelling corrections, flames, questions, etc. are always welcome.