Steve stepped inside the interrogation room in the Hilo Police Department on the Big Island. He motioned to the other officer with his head for him to leave. He stared at the man sitting in the chair, handcuffed. He couldn't help but grin over the busted lip and beginnings of a black eye.
"How's the eye feel?" he asked, standing before him with his arms crossed.
"Fuck you!" he blasted him.
"Gary, Gary," Steve replied passively, bending over and bracing his hands on his knees so he was eye level with his perk, "you're caught. I caught you. There's no reason to be so hostile anymore." He stood up and put his hand on his chest, "I won. This cat and mouse game is over."
He shifted in his chair, "You're a dick McGarrett."
Steve laughed, "Why, because I did my job and arrested the little prick that's been jumping from island to island and robbing innocent people. You call me the dick?" he leaned over again. "You're going to prison Gary, for a long time."
"For theft and mugging?" he snickered. "I'll be out in two years."
Steve shook his head. "Not this time. That little old lady on Oahu last week, the one that fought to keep the ring that her dead husband gave her," he glared at him, "she died from her injuries. You're up for murder, that's why they sent for me."
His expression turned pale. "She was old! She was going to die soon anyway!" he said unsympathetically.
Steve slapped him hard up against the side of the head, tipping the chair. "You little fuck!" he grabbed his throat and squeezed. "She had three kids, nine grandchildren and two great-grandchildren! She worked effortlessly in her community to help people who couldn't help themselves." He slapped him again; "I have no mercy for you! You're going to rot in a cell and I'm going to make it my mission to see that parole is not an option."
He coughed when Steve let go of his neck. "She…" he went to make an excuse and stopped, seeing the anger on Steve's face, deciding to just hold his tongue. It wasn't his fault that she tried to fight him. She should have known she wasn't going to win. 'The stupid old hag!' he thought bitterly. Now he was facing murder charges. He was screwed. He'd never last in prison for that long. He'd rather die than face that.
"I'm taking you back to Oahu and you're going to be tried for first degree murder." He held his index finger up. "First degree Gary. That means life with no parole." He went to leave the room and turned back around just before he left. "Oh yeah, you know what else sweet ole' Mrs. Lisbon did? She visited inmates at Halawa, counseled them, prayed with them." He smiled devilishly, "That's right, Gary. The same prison you'll be at. I'm sure those same inmates will be happy to meet you."
Jordan Meyers faced the window of the small plane listening to the trade winds howl and the rain smack against the window. She couldn't remember the last time it rained so hard, but then again she was on the big island and knew of the sudden changes in weather. She also couldn't remember the last time she traveled alone, if ever, but the appointment she had back on Oahu about the upcoming charity event couldn't wait for her father to finish his business.
She slipped her headphones in her ears and turned on her iPod, scanning through the list, settling on the new Robin Thicke song that she had just recently downloaded. She closed her eyes and settled in for the forty-five minute flight from Hilo airport to Honolulu. She could feel the vibration of the bags being loaded in the back of the plane and the floor as other passengers boarded. It was a small plane that only held twelve and her father had bought the seat next to her as well so she wouldn't have anyone sitting beside her. It was always uncomfortable for her if they struck up a conversation. She had Robin Thicke and her iPod for company and that was all she needed.
Steve had one hand on the cuffs behind Gary's back and the other gripped the collar of his shirt as he guided him up the three steps into the plane.
"Can't you at least take the cuffs off man while we're on the plane?" Gary complained.
"Shut up!" Steve replied hospitably.
"Jesus man," he whined, stumbling on the last step. "I'm going!"
"Sit down right there." He guided him into the window seat in the first row, taking the one next to him. He reached over and strapped him in his seatbelt. "I need to talk to the pilot," Steve said to him, "if you move an inch, I'll say you were trying to escape and I'll give you another black eye and maybe even a broken nose. Got it?"
Gary rolled his eyes and turned toward the window, looking out at the fading sunlight through the storm that seemed to be breaking up.
Steve bent over and peered into the cockpit, showing his badge. "How ya doing? Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett with Five-0. I need to inform you that I have a man in custody and escorting him back to Honolulu on this flight. Are you ok with that?"
The pilot shifted in his seat. "Yes. They already informed me." He looked around Steve, "He's not going to give you any trouble is he. This is a small plane."
"No, and if he does I'll give him an elbow to the jaw and knock him out."
The pilot laughed. "Ok Commander have a seat, we're ready to take off."
Steve went back to his seat but before sitting down he scanned the other passengers aboard. He and his prisoner were sitting in the first of three rows on the right side. There were two men in the last row on their side, who looked like tourists, looking at pictures from a camera one held and commenting on each photo, and a woman sitting alone on the opposite side in the second row. She had her head back and eyes closed. He saw the white headphone cord mixed in with the long, straight jet-black hair. He held his gaze just a second longer than normal, admiring the pretty view.
He shifted his gun on his holster so it was on the opposite side of Gary and sat down next to him, putting on his seatbelt as the engines began to gain momentum.
"Can I go sit over there next to that hottie?" Gary grinned. "Maybe she'll give me a mercy fuck."
Steve looked over at him. "If I hear another word out of your mouth for the remainder of the flight, I'll gag you."
Gary huffed, "With what?"
Steve held his fist up.
"You got no sense of humor dude. Look at her. I bet she could suck a golf ball through a hose."
Steve took his elbow and crushed into his neck, not hard enough to do any damage but just hard enough that it hurt like hell and it took Gary several seconds to get his breath back.
"Keep it up. I know all sorts of places to wound a man and leave no marks."
The plane took off and headed northeast, away from the big island and out over the ocean bypassing Maui's airspace for private jets flying into Kapalua. The sun went down early behind a patch of clouds that hovered out over the horizon, making way for a spectacular sunset. Gary sat quietly in his seat; staring out the window while Steve went over the police reports he uploaded to his I Pad, trying to get a jump on the report he had to fill out before going home once back in Honolulu.
He felt a jolt and glanced up toward the front of the plane, assuming it was turbulence. He could only see a minimal of the cockpit where he was sitting and nothing looked out of the ordinary. He looked back down at his I Pad when the plane suddenly took a sharp turn to the right and felt like it hit an air pocket as if it were falling out of the sky.
Gary sat erect, his body tense, "What the fuck is that?" He braced his head on the window as the plane leveled out.
"Relax," Steve said, feeling a little unnerved himself but keeping his cool. He glanced around his seat to the girl sitting two rows over. She had the same startled look on her face as Gary. He leaned out into the aisle to get a better view of the cockpit as the pilot's hands began to move from instrument to instrument, giving him a bad feeling. He glanced over at Gary whose face was a ghostly white as he stared at him. Steve reached down and tightened his seatbelt for him.
"What's going on?" Gary asked nervously.
"Nothing, just some turbulence." Steve replied. He bent over slipping his I Pad underneath his seat when the plane took a sudden nosedive. He instinctively reached out in front of him, bracing his hands on the wall in front of their seats. He heard the girl let out a frightened scream and one of the men in the back shout out for an explanation. He leaned out into the aisle again as the pilot struggled with both hands on the control and shouting into the mike attached to his headset, giving their coordinates to the Honolulu airport. He looked back just then making eye contact with Steve. His face resembled Gary's, which in turn made Steve's stomach churn and a cold shiver run through his body.
"I lost my hydraulics!" he yelled out to him, focusing back on the front pulling back on the controls with both hands as the plane somewhat leveled out. "Oh my God!" Was the last thing Steve heard from him before the plane tilted sideways again as the tip of the wing hit the water.
The nose hit next, turning the plane on its side as it rolled from end to end over the water. The back hit the hardest, tearing away as the two men disappeared along with a portion of the tail section. The whole commotion lasted only seconds but inside the plane it seemed endless. When it finally stopped, it settled upward in the water facing the opposite direction it had been heading and bobbed like a cork until the water found its way in through the missing tail section and began to go under.
Jordan reached out in the darkness. The cut on her forehead went unfelt and she was unable to scream from the terror that was engulfing her. She felt the seat in front of her and could hear metal grinding and then water rushing at her feet. The plane began to roll once again as she struggled to undo her seatbelt, desperately trying to remember where the exit was. On the right or the left of the plane.
Steve felt a sharp pain in his gut from the seatbelt thrust and reached over with his right hand, feeling for Gary.
"Un-cuff me!" Gary screamed. "Un-cuff me."
Steve undid his own belt first, bracing his hand across Gary's body and on the window as the plane began to roll. Water rushed over his arm and then back down as the plane shifted and began to roll the other way in the strong surf. He started to stumble backwards and grabbed the seat rest, holding himself in place. He reached in his pocket for the keys as Gary screamed and begged over and over for his freedom. He got the locks undone quickly and remembered the other passengers, leaving Gary to fend for himself.
The plane shifted for a third time, tipping backward as the rear began to go under. Steve lost his balance and fell in the aisle, reaching out and grabbing the vacant seat next to the girl. He pulled himself back up again fighting the gravity that was pulling him backwards. Gary pulled himself up to the front and in the darkness Steve could see the woman trying to climb over the seat in front of her. She didn't scream but he could hear the panic in short quick gasps in her effort to free herself from the wreckage.
He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her down so she was in the isle with him. He twisted his body so he was moving backward dragging her up the isle toward the front of the plane and away from the water rushing in from the missing tail section.
She used her feet to help him and her hands against the ceiling to help push and pull, realizing that he was trying to help her. She had no choice but to let him.
He got to the front door that was already open and glanced in at the pilot, pulling him back in his seat with his free arm, seeing that he was clearly dead. He held tight the girl and looked around the cabin for Gary, not seeing him.
"Can you swim?!"
"Yes, yes," she whimpered, "but I'm blind. I can't see! Please don't leave me!" she begged, reaching her hands out, searching the air.
That new piece of information startled him.
"Please don't leave me!" she cried frantically, grabbing a hold of his arm around her waist.
"I won't!" She heard him say calmly before he shoved her out the door into the water that was almost level with the door.
Jordan went under and began to kick her legs and swim, not having any idea which way to go. 'He left me!' she thought as panic began to sweep through her. A wave washed over her face getting water in her mouth as she began to gag, knowing at any second she was going to drown. All at one she felt his arm go around her chest again and flip her on her back, keeping her face out of the water. She could feel his body kicking and moving through the water wondering where he was taking her in the middle of the ocean or if he was just trying to get away from the plane. She felt a rock hit her foot but before she could pray that it was land she felt her body being lifted out of the water and pulled up on some rocks. The back of her legs scraped against the hard surface but she didn't care. She was on land! She was alive and she was on land!
Steve pulled her up on the rocky shore and got as far away from the pounding surf that he could for the moment. He held her around the waist as she sat between his legs, shaking uncontrollably from the traumatic event that had just taken place. "We're okay," he assured her, "We're okay!" His voice didn't hold the same calm tone as it did in the plane. The adrenaline flowing through him reflected in his voice, thinking the same thoughts she had. They were alive and they were on land. "Are you hurt?" he asked over the pounding of the waves on the rocks.
"N…no," she shuttered, barely able to get it out. "No." She tried to settle the shaking that had taken over her body but couldn't. She could feel his rapid breathing and the pounding of his heart against her back.
He held still for just a minute longer hoping she would settle but knew they couldn't stay where they were; it was dangerous. A sneaker wave could come up at any second and sweep them both back into the water. "We can't stay here," he explained, "a wave could come up and pull us back in the water."
She felt a spray of seawater hit her face just then, startling her. She pushed back into him, grabbing his arm that was around her waist. "I don't want to go back in the water!"
He couldn't imagine the fear that must be going through her being blind, and having to deal with what was happening and worse yet with a complete stranger. He sympathized with her and tried the best he could to calm her. "I won't let that happen, okay? We just need to move a little further in." He looked to his right, seeing no passage that way and then to his left. There was a way out but they had to go up a small incline and he wasn't sure she would be able to do it. He held her around the waist and used his other arm to stand up, taking her with him. He turned and took her hand, putting it against the rock wall behind them, showing her. "I want you to stay right here and don't move. I'll be right back."
"No!" she reached behind her and clutched on to his shirt, feeling tears stinging her eyes. "Please don't leave me!" Fearing that he found a way out, knowing she couldn't make it and he was going to leave her there. "Please, I can make it. I can come with you." The idea of being left alone there was terrorizing her. "My father is very rich. He'll pay you if you don't leave me." With that said, she started to cry. "Please!"
Her hand trembled fiercely as she clung to his shirt. "What's your name?" he asked, moving her back closer to the wall.
"Jor…" she shuttered, "Jordan,"
"I'm Steve, Jordan. I'm a police officer. I'm not going leave you here. I would never leave you here alone." He loosened the grip on her. "I'm just going to climb up this rock over here and see what's on the other side and then you and I are going to go over it together. Okay? You have to trust me."
His voice was that same calm tone from inside the plane again. He didn't leave her then and she had to trust that he wouldn't leave her this time either. She let go of his shirt and put both hands on the rock wall, getting a grip on two rocks. "Okay, okay."
He let go of her, making sure she was sure-footed before stepping back. "I won't even be out of ear shot." He used the wall as a brace and made his way over to the boulder. He reached up with his right hand and felt a sharp pain in his side. He lifted the bottom of shirt and saw a deep gash just above his hipbone. "Shit," he vaguely remembered feeling something sharp while in the plane, but with his adrenaline pumping, the pain was sustained.
He had to ignore it for now and reached up, pulling himself up on the rock. It only took him seconds and he was over it, looking down at a more level area of rocks, a small beach and some brush. He tried to make a path in the darkness that would enable him to carry Jordan, because he was sure she wouldn't be able to make it over this, even with his guidance, plus he had noticed that she had lost one of her shoes. He stood up and scanned the surrounding area. "Gary!" he shouted, wondering if he would even reply now that he was temporally a free man again. He took off his gun belt and set it on top of the rocks, knowing he couldn't carry Jordan with it on his waist.
Jordan clutched the wall and listened intently through the pounding of the waves as he moved further and further away from her, until she couldn't hear him anymore. "Steve," she called out.
He looked down over his shoulder, seeing her still clutching the wall. "I'm right here Jordan," he yelled back. "I'm coming back now."
She felt a wave of relief, knowing she could trust him. "Okay," she whispered, still trembling but feeling a slight break in the anxiety. "I'll wait right here," she halfheartedly chuckled.
He smiled as he climbed back down the rock, pleased that she had calmed down some to the point that she could make a joke. He recalled her trying to get out of the plane on her own. She was resilient, that was for sure. He put a hand on the rocks above her and put his other arm around her waist. "I'm not sure you can make it over that boulder, so I want you to climb on my back and I'll carry you over. Do you think you can do that?"
She looked up to where the sound of his voice was, "Yes, but do you think you can?" she asked, astounded by his proposal.
"I once had to carry a 185 lb. man over my shoulder for a mile in the sand. I pretty sure I can carry you."
She was even more astounded by that, once again putting her faith in him. "What do you want me to do?"
He took one of her hands and put it over his shoulder, bending over and moving his back up against her. "When I say go, I want you to jump up on my back and wrap your other arm around my shoulder, but don't put it around my neck just my shoulder. Sit up high on my back and wrap your legs tightly around my waist, locking your feet together." He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Got it?"
"Yes," she said, but in her head she was thinking, 'Oh my god! We're both going to fall backwards over the rocks.' She took her other hand and felt it over his back and down to his waist, trying to get a visual of how tall and wide he was.
Steve hunched over a little more, ignoring the pain in side. "Ready?"
"Yes," she said, taking a deep breath.
"Go!"
Jordan jumped up and did as she was told. He didn't even stumble on the rocks or even make the slightest noise that she was any kind of hindrance on him. He tucked his hands under her thighs and lifted her up higher on his back. "Try and stay in this position. Squeeze your legs together to hold if you feel like your slipping."
"Okay." She put her head down on his shoulder as he began to walk, still he never faltered.
"Do you live on Oahu Jordan?" he asked, making it to the boulder easily and looking up trying to remember the path he took last time.
She was stunned that he wanted to hold a conversation. "Umm, yes. Do you?"
"Yes," he grunted, pulling them up the first leg, getting a good grip on the dry rocks. "I was born there."
She held as still as possible, trusting in him to know his body and what it was capable of. So far so good, she thought. "I was born in London. My father was there on business." She could feel the muscles on his shoulder and chest protrude through his shirt, knowing he was in exquisite shape. Thank God for her, she thought.
Steve didn't respond using what energy he had to pull them up over the top of the rock. He held still letting his muscles ease down from the burning that erupted from the over strenuous usage. 'Hell yeah,' he congratulated himself. 'I bet I could still carry Brady that mile through the sand.' He took in and let out a deep breath. "You doing all right?"
Jordan nodded, "Yes. Are you?"
"Yep, piece of cake."
"When they said to serve and protect, you really took that heart didn't you?"
Steve laughed, "We only have a little ways further." He made his way down the other side by sidestepping. When he felt he was in a good place he leaned over. "Ok, slide off."
Jordan let go and slid off his back feeling the ground still slightly unstable, but quickly caught her balance as he reached around behind and gripped her by the waist, steadying her. "You good?"
"Yes." She held on to his shoulders for support.
"Don't let go of my shoulders and just follow me." He slowly made his way over to an area just above the sand of the small beach that fed into the brush. The waves were somewhat calmer here being blocked by the rocks from the area they had just come from. He took her by the arm, "Sit down right here. It's sand."
Jordan put her hand down, feeling her way as she sat down, on the cool, damp sand.
Steve squatted down in front of her. "You did really well Jordan."
She looked up to where his voice was and smiled, wiping her hand over the back of her mouth, "Thank you!" She blindly reached out, feeling his chest and then making her way to his shoulder, "Thank you for not leaving me." She felt the weight of the last half hour hit and started to cry.
He moved in next to her and put an arm around her, "It's ok."
She laid her head on his shoulder and covered her face with her hands, unable to stop, knowing how close she came to dying, and not wanting to ask about the others on the plane, right now it was just too terrifying to know if they were dead.
He pulled her closer, wondering at the same time what had happened to them. He thought about Gary and looked around the area they were in, seeing if he could see anyone. He knew the pilot was dead and he remembered seeing the back of the plane gone where the two men had been sitting, hoping they might have somehow got out of their seats and not drowned. He looked around once again, contemplating where they were. He guessed this was the west side of Kahoolawe, an uninhabited island off the southern tip of Maui, judging by the route they would have taken from Hilo. He praised the pilot for not taking them too far out over the ocean, or they all would have drown for sure.
Jordan sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her hand, sitting up. He rubbed his hand up and down her bicep, "You all right now?"
She nodded yes, but didn't feel all right in the least. "Where are we?"
"I'm pretty sure we're on Kahoolawe."
"That's not far from Maui."
"That's right, so we'll be easy to find. They'll have radar of where the plane was last spotted." He could feel her still shivering. "Are you cold or are you still shaken up?"
She sniffed, "Both I guess."
"I'm going to see if I can get a fire going. It'll be a good signal too for the rescue helicopters and boats." He stood up.
Jordan looked up, "Who are you? I feel like GI Joe has rescued me. Please don't take offense to that. I don't mean it in a bad way."
Steve laughed, "Not GI Joe, but GI Steve. I was a Navy Seal for six years before I was a police officer so all of this is like going back to my training days."
Jordan shook her head in amazement. "So you weren't scared at all?"
Steve huffed, "I wouldn't go that far, but I've been trained to think not panic. It's just embedded in me."
Jordan smiled, "Lucky for me." She glanced up to where she thought he was standing but was off by a couple of feet. "Thank you again Steve. I would have died in that plane if you hadn't got me out."
He looked down at her as she huddled with her arms around her knees that were securely tucked up against her chest. He knew he should have seen her as vulnerable and helpless in the state and circumstance they were in but he just didn't see it on her. "I don't know Jordan, when I grabbed you, you were already on your way to the exit. I think you would have gotten out with or without me."
She moved her head to where she knew he was standing; smiling up at him, knowing that wasn't true but still grateful to hear it. Her father and boyfriend Bradley always told her she was strong, yet neither one of them ever let her prove it. They treated her like she was made of glass and might break at any moment if they weren't there to protect her. He was the first person since her Mother who ever made her feel like she was capable. "I didn't know where I was going."
"But you didn't panic," he argued. "You knew to undo your seatbelt and get out. I never even heard you scream. You might have been scared but in all reality you kept your head. That's what saved your life. If you were hysterical I don't know if I could have got you out." He walked over to the bushes. "So don't give me the credit GI Jane." He began to pull down on some dry branches from a dead bush.
She chuckled over his choice of words to describe her. She sat huddled in her little spot listening as he broke branches and dug a small hole not far from where she sat. She could visualize his actions from the sounds he was making. "Are you going to rub sticks together?" she asked, intrigued by his efforts.
"No," Steve grabbed his gun belt, amused by that statement. He hadn't built a fire with friction in years. "I have a knife that has flint on the base of the handle. Comes in handy."
Jordan chuckled. "Wow! You really are GI Joe. I'm impressed."
"Well don't be too impressed until you see flames." He cringed over his choice of words. "I mean feel them. I mean…sorry. You know what I mean."
Jordan was amused over his stumbling of words. He was a better survivalist than backtracker. "I know what you mean. Don't apologize either. I've seen fire and know what it looks like too."
He glanced up at her from his duty of scraping a rock against the butt of his knife over some dried shreds of wood he'd created, wanting to ask her how long she'd been blind but thought it too personal.
Jordan waited for the obvious question and then answered for him when it didn't come. "Since I was seven," she said.
"What?"
"I know you wanted to ask me how long I've been blind for. Since seven."
He sat back, "How did you know that?"
She shrugged, "It's a typical question for a blind person that people are always afraid to ask. Somehow they think its rude or something. Maybe some blind people take offense, but I don't. It's just curiosity."
He grinned at her and resumed his duty, getting a spark almost instantly. "Hey! Here we go!" He carefully fed the tiny flame and within a minute Jordan could feel the warmth.
She stuck her hand out and Steve took it, guiding her over to where it was. "Careful, not too close." He looked up at her for the first time in the light, startled by the blood on her face and then the gash on her forehead. "You have a cut on your forehead." He moved her hair back away from her face, getting a better look at it. It had already clotted but she had dried blood running down her face. He didn't want to alarm her and played it off like it was nothing, but it clearly was going to need stitches. "It's not bad, but don't touch it. You'll get sand in it."
"Okay. Nice job on the fire. Do you think you could hustle me up a pizza too?"
"No," he lifted up his shirt in the light to get a look at his side, "but I think I might be able to find a gecko or two if you're hungry." He cringed at the open gash that looked even worse in the light. Carrying Jordan over the rocks hadn't helped the matter either, but it was what it was.
"Oh yuck. Never mind," she objected to his offer.
He slipped his shirt off and walked down to the water dipping it in the surf and going back to the fire. "You have a little bit of blood on your face. Here," he took her hand and put his shirt in it, "you can use this to wipe it off."
"Is it all over or just below the cut?" She went to wipe the cut when he grabbed her hand.
"Wait, don't touch the cut. Give me it." He took the shirt from her. "Is it okay if I do it?"
"Yes." She held still and felt the cloth material touch just below her eye. His fingers rubbed just hard enough to get the job done but soft enough not to hurt her. She just couldn't get a clear image of him no matter how hard she tried. She knew his body structure but pictured his face as rugged and tough with scars and remains of several broken noses maybe and thick eyebrows with dark eyes. But when he touched her like he was, that image was blown. He was too gentle. Her image went to feminine. Blond hair and blue eyes, deep dimples and soft lips, but even that image didn't suit him. She wished she could touch his face.
When he was done with her he cleaned out his wound the best he could without making a noise, not enjoying the salt water as a remedy, but not wanting to let Jordan know he was injured either.
"How long do you think it will be before someone comes?"
Steve carefully let out the breath he'd been holding, laying the shirt over the exposed area. "I don't know. Not too long. I'd be surprised if we were here the whole night."
He had a way of putting her at ease. She wasn't sure if that was from his training too, or if that was just a gifted talent. "So you said you were born on the island?"
Steve sat back in the sand trying to find a comfortable position. "Yes. I left when I was fifteen and moved to LA with my little sister and then came back after the Navy." He didn't want to say the truth, not knowing her. "What about you? You said you were born in London?"
"Yes. My parents moved back to Hawaii when I was two."
He looked at her, studying her face in the fire. She was beautiful; there was no doubt about it, even with the remaining traces of dirt and blood that she didn't get off. He never minded that on a woman anyway, to him it was sexier than makeup. He admired her strength and courage through this whole thing. "Who took you to the airport?" he asked, wondering if she were married.
"My father, and Bradley is picking me up. He works with my father and we see each other." She felt a stab of guilt over not thinking about her father or Bradley or what they must be going through that very second. "They must be going out of their minds with worry."
Knowing she had someone didn't really surprise him. "Just think how happy they'll be when they see you."
"I guess." She knew of course they would be, especially her father, but this would only fuel the fire that he constantly reminded her of. She needed protection. She hated the way he and Bradley hovered over her, making her feel like she was helpless. When all she ever wanted was to break out and prove to them and herself that she could be on her own. She wasn't afraid of it, they were.
He sensed her mood changing as he laid some more sticks on the fire, hoping the post traumatic stress, which he was sure she would encounter wasn't happening just yet. "Do you work Jordan, or go to school?" He couldn't get a reading on her age, guessing she was about twenty-four or twenty-five.
She laughed, but it was more of a disgusted chuckle. "No! My father would never allow that."
"Why not?" He was a little taken back by that comment.
She hesitated speaking to a complete stranger about this, but then again somehow he didn't feel that way to her, not anymore. "My father's just very protective of me, and Bradley kind of followed suit. He doesn't even like it when I go out alone so he even hired this driver, but I think he's more of a bodyguard. He doesn't talk very much and I can always feel his presence even when he pretends to not be there."
Steve shifted in the sand, getting a new position for the tenderness in his side that was beginning to become a pain in his ass. "Maybe if you told him, or better yet just go out and get a job. He can't stop you from working and living your life."
She thought about that statement and wished it were true. "You don't know my father. He's very difficult to break away from."
"Maybe it's the money that's hard to break away from." He regretted it the minute he said it, seeing the angered look on her face. "I'm sorry Jordan. I shouldn't have said that."
"No, you shouldn't have. You don't know me and it's not so easy to just go out and get a job when you're blind! Who would hire me? What would I do?"
He was beginning to see that vulnerability that he couldn't before. Maybe he was wrong about her, "Are you asking me that or are you just stating that it's impossible for blind people to work?" he huffed, "because I'm pretty sure blind people work."
"I know blind people work," she snapped. "I'm just saying."
"Hmmm," Steve said, looking at the obviously painful approach she had with this subject, but decided to just keep his mouth shut.
"Hmmm?" she mocked him. "What do you want to say?"
"Nothing."
"Yes you do. Just say it!" she pushed back away from the fire infuriated over the way their pleasant conversation had started and now she felt like he was attacking her. "Poor little rich girl. Oh wait," she held her hand up, "poor little blind rich girl. Can't fend for herself, needs Daddy's money to survive! I'm not a child!"
He stared at her as she ranted, seeing a lot of built up anger and resentment that she must harbor inside from not being able to live on her own. It was so clear to him, wondering what kind of father she had to not let her live a life, or maybe she just blamed him for her own fears. "That's not what I was going to say," he said passively. "I was going to say that I couldn't even fathom the everyday difficulties that you must face with this disability."
"It's not a disability!" She repeated her Mother's words that she had heard so many times before.
"Well," he argued, "yes it is. There's nothing wrong with that word as long as you don't use it as a crutch. You can do anything you want Jordan. I think that you know that too and I think that you want too. I also think that maybe you blame your father for holding you back, but maybe it's because you let him."
"You don't know my life. It's easy for you sit there and judge me but walk a mile in my shoes and then judge me."
"I'm not judging you Jordan. But I hear you fighting against yourself. In the last minute you've told me that you're not a child, you don't consider yourself disabled and by what I gather, you are very resentful of your father's money and protection. So my question is, why do you let it go on?" he shifted in the sand again, feeling a little nauseous. "I've only known you for what, an hour and I don't see a poor little blind rich girl. You were fighting like hell in that plane for your life. Why can't you do that everyday?"
Her head was spinning over what he had just said to her. It was as if her Mother was speaking through him, angry that she had reverted to this life, to the life that her Mother had tried so hard to shield her from before she died. She remembered countless arguments between her parents about it, her father wanting to be the protector and her Mother wanting her to fend for herself. She had been the only person in her life that had believed she was capable of it, until now, this stranger saw it too. She missed her Mother and felt a wave of guilt, knowing she had let her down. She had become exactly what she had feared she would. She was helpless.
Steve pushed himself up so he was kneeling, taking the shirt off his wound. The area around it was swelling and red. The skin was separated exposing the open flesh to bacteria and whatever else was floating around. The shirt wasn't helping. He needed to have it cleaned and stitched up. The way it was sliced he had no way of holding it together. He stood up, feeling slightly dizzy. "Awe, shit," he groaned, sitting back down again, looking out to the water, and wondering where the hell the rescue helicopters were. They should have been there by now.
Jordan heard a different tone in his voice. It was pain. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I just have a cut on my side." He looked over at her as she stared blankly in his direction. "I'm sorry Jordan about what I said. I had no right…"
"Please," she interrupted him. "You were right. My Mother used to say the same things to me. She wanted me to be able to stand on my own," she felt tears stinging her eyes, "And look at me now. I am a poor little blind girl."
"Don't feel sorry for yourself Jordan," he encouraged. "If you honestly feel like that, then leave that person behind on this beach when you leave here. Go home and be whatever you want and don't let anyone stand in your way or hold you back. It's your life. Not there's"
He said it so matter-of-factly as if it was so obvious. It was so simple. He was right. This night was like being given a second chance. She should have died in that plane crash but she didn't. She survived. She was afraid but just like Steve said; she didn't panic and kept her head. If she could get through this and survive, then nothing out there could possibly be as scary if she just didn't panic and kept her head. She could do anything she wanted. She felt like she'd been given a shot of adrenaline that soared through her like an electric shock. She'd never felt so alive before in her entire life. She had no idea who this stranger was but he seemed to know her better than the people she spent most of her life with, or maybe he just said the things that she needed to hear. Either way she couldn't deny that it was without a doubt the craziest night of her life.
She sat up suddenly, "I hear something."
Steve looked out toward the water. "What? I don't hear anything."
"Listen!" she held her hand up, holding her breath. "That way!" she turned and was pointing toward the rock they had gone over.
Steve gripped his side and stood up and at the very moment he saw a helicopter with a spotlight flashing on the water around the vicinity of where the plane had gone down. The sound came next over the waves. "It's a helicopter!" he looked down at her as she pushed herself up. He reached out taking her hand, guiding her down to the beach so they would be in view. He ran back and took a large branch he had been saving and threw it on the fire. The dead wood and branches caught fire like it had gasoline poured on it and the flames ignited, almost as tall as him. He went back to the beach and watched as the helicopter hovered for another couple of seconds and then turned in their direction. Within in seconds the light was on them.
"They see us! You'll be home soon, Jordan" he smiled putting an arm around her.
She clutched his shoulder as tears of relief spilled from her eyes. "Jordan isn't going home," she smiled, "GI Jane is." She truly believed this was the beginning of a new chapter in her life.
Steve laughed, hugging her tighter. "Oh God, look out world. Jordan's on a mission."