Author's Notes: Yikes, it's been a whole week since I updated! Here's a little chapter to tide us over until the next :) Thank you to all the reviewers! LehcarMarie, kmddeprez1122, midtwilight, Perdita Durango, emma, Tashibi5, banananasbff123, x-rayLady, blackcat05, KMT06055, Aiyami Sakura, born-a-retard-991, and Miamore!
Disclaimer: The Twilight saga and all characters therein are the creation of Stephenie Meyer. No profit is being made from this fanfiction and no copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter Fourteen
Desperation
According to Demetri's (fortunately waterproof) phone, it was the thirty-first of December. It was a good thing I'd thought to take the phone, because I would barely have known day from night, let alone the date, because I was so exhausted.
After leaving the ashes at the beach, I kept running, not knowing if anyone else was after me. After awhile I decided to swim so I couldn't be tracked, coming onshore only to hunt once. I took down some sort of pygmy deer that was unsatisfying, then a wild pig, which was surprisingly tasty. Then it was back into the water.
Every stroke was painful. I'd popped my own shoulder back into place, but the broken rib was killing me. Large bruises had spread across my arms, chest, and especially the abdomen, surrounding the rib. I would have been crying except for the salty ocean that swept my tears away as soon as they formed.
I didn't know what I would find when I returned to Rio. All I knew was that I needed a shower, a flight home, Jacob, and some quality bandaging from Carlisle, in that order.
And why was Brazil so big? Who knew?
Serpentine curves of the coast. Rainstorms and heavy sun. Small, ugly, silver fish that darted in and out of my path. My clothes, disintegrating with the constant motion. After awhile I got frustrated and chafed, and took off my shirt and jeans and bundled them onto my back. But that hampered me, too.
The tropical heat was a weight on my chest every time I drew a pain-seared breath. The uneven coastline was endless, beach and trees, the occasional primitive fishing village. I couldn't do this. My rib, stitching itself back together, was slowing me down. It would take a month to get to Rio at this rate.
I'd stopped for a rest and was floating on my back, checking the date. I wasn't able to make outgoing calls; the phone had a ten-digit pass code and I certainly didn't have my decryption software on me.
Yep, the thirty-first. The last day of the year.
I wouldn't be getting a kiss this New Year's Eve.
The grating buzz of a motor engine interrupted my mourning. An ancient fishing boat, with a motor that would have made Jacob crazy with that unhealthy clicking sound in the blades. I followed its path toward a… city? Cities had airports.
In the privacy of the water, I pulled on my jeans and shirt, and swam toward the shore. I pulled myself out just north of the urban area, the high-rise apartment buildings that stuck up like waving fingers. The shore was deserted except for a couple kids flying a kite. They didn't seem to find anything unusual with a fully-dressed woman emerging out of the water.
God bless children.
I walked inland until I found plausible shelter amongst the trees, and then ran. I reached the outskirts of the city, a stretch of housing that needed a paint job ten years ago. I stopped an older woman carrying a grocery bag. "Aeroporto?"
She looked me up and down, eyes pausing on my bare feet, her mouth agape.
I must have looked seriously messed up.
"Por favor, aeroporto?"
She replied in quick Portuguese, as if she wanted to get the conversation over with. She probably thought I was running from an abusive husband and didn't want him to see her helping me.
From what I gathered, there was an airport to the south, in the city.
I pointed, a question on my face.
"Fortaleza," she informed me. Then she turned and tottered away.
It took fourteen more people giving me directions until I was able to hitch a ride with a truck driver. He eyed me in a way that would have made me uncomfortable… had I not recently killed a Volturi vampire with my bare hands, burned his body, and swum half the coastline of Brazil.
Instead of blushing, I looked him in straight in the eye, and something in my expression must have frightened him. He didn't look at me again.
"Obrigado," I said, hopping out at the gate to the airport.
Fortaleza's airport had seen better days. The gate was rusted and weeds grew on all but one runway. I'd noticed that half this city was abandoned, too; buildings boarded up and gutted, cars stripped for parts and left on the side of the road. This part of the country must have been badly affected by the Second Depression. I only hoped there were some flights out.
I walked along the road to the terminal. A few cars went back and forth, and a single small plane landed, but it was otherwise quiet.
At the front of the terminal, a small, greasy man said, "Miss?" in English.
The red hair and white skin gave me away as being non-local. "Yeah?"
"You need a ride?"
"Yeah. In an airplane."
He frowned. "How about a ride in a taxi? I take you wherever you go."
"Rio de Janeiro."
His frown deepened. "You talk to my friend. He flies plane."
"Sounds good."
"You have money?" he asked, turning back to look at me as we skirted the outside of the terminal to an old shed labeled "Okay Airlines."
"No, no money."
The man stopped and looked at me in disbelief. "What? You running from your husband?"
I rolled my eyes. "No. I… money was stolen."
He made a tsk sound with his tongue. "That no good."
"Tell me about it."
"You have… anything else?" He looked my body up and down.
He has to be kidding. "I have this," I said, digging Demetri's phone out of my pocket. "Brand new." Freshly stolen.
He shrugged. "Okay."
His friend the pilot was even greasier. I didn't like the idea of taking a dodgy little airline, but I wouldn't be able to buy a proper airline ticket with no money. A barter was my best idea. I sighed, thinking of the millions I had stashed in my Grand Caiman account… but these people didn't seem the type to take an I.O.U.
"I take phone," said the pilot. "Give you ride on today's flight, cargo, to Rio."
"Deal," I said.
An hour later, I was perched on a crate of chicken feed, teeth clattering as the antique plane crawled its way upward into the sky.
The sun peaked overhead and began its descent toward the west. I closed my eyes and tried to bear the wait. Soon I would be in Rio. Opening my eyes and looking around at the dusty, random cargo boxes, I suddenly wondered whether a plane like this would be allowed to land at Rio's busy international airport.
"At which airport are we landing?" I shouted at the pilot.
"Si!"
"What airport?"
"I tell you, Macae!"
Macae? Wherever that was, it was not Rio de Janeiro. "That's not Rio!"
"Close to Rio!"
"Our deal was for you to take me to Rio!"
"No, no. Plane no land there. These boxes go to Macae. It's close. Trust me!"
Trust him. Yeah, right. For all I knew, Macae was in Uruguay. "Do you have a map?"
"Si!"
He didn't move.
"Map!" How I wished to show my thoughts. This language barrier was a problem. With all the time my family seemed to spend in Brazil, I was surprised that I hadn't been taught proper Portuguese… but then, I'd never had to conceal my abilities before, never had to interact with humans. My family did all that for me, up until now.
Annoyed, I reached up into the cockpit and riffled through a stack of papers next to the pilot. He didn't even seem to care. I pulled out a yellowed map and found Rio… then Macae. North, on the coast. I would have to run or swim to Rio from there.
Groaning, I leaned back and slept in fits and starts until the rickety plane began its descent.
After we landed, Demetri's phone was left with the gloating pilot – it must have been worth a pretty penny for him to sell later – and I followed my nose to the ocean. I stared at the encroaching darkness from the east. The sun was setting behind me. I glanced down at myself; skin painted with rapid-healing bruises, hair tangled and filled with sand and ocean debris, clothes tattered, feet shoeless.
Without further thought I walked forward into the ocean. Deeper and deeper, I waded amongst the floating wood, the swirling sand. Waves crashed over me and I kept going. Then I started swimming south. According to the map in the plane, Rio was just around a corner of land. Just around the corner.
I floated on my back and did back butterfly strokes. It hurt my rib less. It was now sore and seemed wrongly shaped somehow. It was probably healing badly. All this activity could not be helping.
The sky grew darker above me. As I swam on my back, all alone in the warm Atlantic Ocean, I watched a shooting star streak across the field of stars. It made me feel lonely.
The hours peeled by as I swam. The land to my left grew bright as the fingers of Rio's lighted streets stretched outwards along the ocean.
When I came upon the busy harbor, I flipped onto my stomach to make it across as fast as I could. The harbor was choked with pleasure yachts, freighters, sailboats… I weaved through them, silent in the dark water. The ache of exhaustion penetrated to my bones. I prayed the Volturi didn't know where I'd been staying. I prayed Alec and Demetri hadn't spoken to my human driver that day I'd been snatched. I prayed there were no vampires waiting for me. I knew I wasn't strong enough to stand up again. My mind was fuzzy and weak; I wanted to collapse into a pair of strong arms.
Jacob. Jacob. Jacob. His name was the undertone of my flying heartbeat. His name was the cadence of the last, weary strokes of my arms, bringing me closer to the glittering shore.
There was something going on at Copacabana Beach. Bright spotlights dashed up against the row of glitzy hotels and grazed the sky. The beach was alive and throbbing with dancing bodies. A pulsing dance beat made my bones vibrate. I could see my hotel now, gleaming white, and long colorful silk panels rippled down from the balconies. I could hear the motion of a hundred thousand human feet on the sand as they danced. I could see the writhing and laughing and the raising of arms in toasts, champagne sparkling under the dim stars that were a million paper lanterns.
The party stretched the length of the pristine beach. I floated for a moment, bewildered. What was this? I remembered almost as soon as I formed the question. New Year's Eve. This was a party for people who had something to celebrate.
My feet sank into the soft sand as the waves bore me into the heart of the throbbing darkness, the wild abandon, the flashing gold and white and red, the twirling melee of beautiful women in mere whispers of bikinis and men in silk trousers.
My spine was straight as I stood up and walked forward. The waves crashed around me as though I was a stone. A few people noticed and stared, nudging their friends to look at the haggard girl emerging from the ocean like a battered mermaid.
I scanned the crowds that spun in front of me. I couldn't pick out anything, anyone… the scents were overwhelming… I didn't want to breathe anymore.
I walked stiffly into the crowd. They parted for me, gasping, pointing now. My instincts screamed at me to hide myself. I could not hide.
Behind me, from platforms in the water, I could smell the sharp sulfur of electronic detonation wire. I heard the hiss and pop, and a few seconds later the explosion of a row of fireworks. A million pairs of eyes lit up, the pinwheeling sparks reflected in them.
My back was turned on that spectacular fire above the ocean.
I fell forward, arms in front of me.
I crashed into the rippling broad chest of a man. His arms shot around me and then swung me up into a cradling embrace. "Shh," he said. "You're safe. Everything's all right now. I promise."
I looked up, caught in this storm of strangers, and saw Jacob's eyes, rich with an emotion I could not name, could only feel.
"Jake…" I whispered, and my head rolled back as I lost consciousness.
