Only Shadows Ahead

Chapter Fifty-Two

Wheeler hunched over; elbows propped on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him. The television played in the background at low volume, a re-run of 'I Love Lucy." He hadn't turned it on — no one was even watching it. It's presence served as a comforting reminder of how things used to be.

A pair of bandaged feet were propped up on the armrest opposite. Linka was curled up on the couch; her head resting on a pillow over Gi's thighs. She looked peaceful and warm; her freshly-washed hair still damp and bundled in a loose bun, with Gi's fingers stroking back and forth along her scalp. A blanket loosely covered her body.

It had been thirty-six hours since her miraculous return. They were all still in shock — still processing the fact that she was alive and that she was here.

"She's sleepin' a lot."

"Bleak was the same, remember?" Ma-Ti said. "He could barely stand up."

"Where the hell has she been?"

Kwame shrugged, turning his attention to the television. "We may never know."

"Someone has to know," Gi said, stroking Linka's forehead with her fingertips. "Someone —"

"Maybe the same someone who put his goddamn hands around her neck," he seethed. "They're fresh bruises, guys. Someone tried to strangle her —"

"We don't know —"

"For all we know, it could have been Bleak."

"For all we know, Wheeler?" Kwame turned to face him and Wheeler observed for the first time how tired he looked. "We don't know anything, so there is no use —"

"Join the dots, Kwame. Bleak looked like he'd been stabbed. Linka's got cut-marks on her hands. Maybe the blade slipped? Maybe she was fighting him off —"

"Leave it alone, Wheeler."

Wheeler sighed, throwing his head back in frustration.

He'd assumed the answers would be forthcoming, but it wasn't to be. Linka seemed to have no recollection of the events of the past few months. Nothing but confused ramblings and tearful exchanges.

He knew she was just as frustrated as they were. She'd been in a pitiable state when they'd found her. Banged up all to hell and much thinner — too thin. Those curves had lessoned, replaced by sharper angles and hollowed-out cheekbones.

Still beautiful, though. Still took his breath away – enough to elicit those flutterings in the pit of his stomach when she leaned on him, or brushed against him.

More concerning was the fact that even in the few instances that she'd been awake and lucid, he'd noticed a difference. A change in her demeanour. No longer self-assured and confident, she seemed reserved — almost timid. Unable to make even the most basic eye contact with anyone. A newfound fragility.

It broke his heart.

She'd twitched and sobbed in her sleep last night, thrashing around violently — to the point that they'd made the decision to keep her close, rather than abandoning her to the isolation of her hut.

It was just easier — both for her and for them.

He was worried sick about her, desperate to talk; to have time alone with her, but the opportunity hadn't presented itself. He had no choice but to share Linka with three others — all of whom were unwilling to take their eyes of her. Just wanting to bask in her presence.

"What's the plan?" Ma-Ti asked. "Are we staying? Are we returning?"

"I guess that will be a discussion for when she is well."

"What about Mishka?"

"Oh shit," Wheeler whispered. In all the craziness, they'd forgotten about her brother. "God, someone's gonna have to —"

Kwame jumped to his feet, giving them the thumbs up sign. Heading for his hut — presumably to make a long distance phone call.

Gi sighed, settling back and nodding towards the television. "Is anyone actually watching this?"

"Nope."

"Oh well. Looks like we'll end up getting back to eco-missions and jet-lag after all."

"Dumb-ass polluters wont be happy."

"Are they ever happy?" Ma-Ti asked. "I guess it is a conversation we will all need to have."

"About what?"

"About returning."

"I just assumed," Gi said softly, smoothing Linka's hair with her hand. "I guess I thought we'd just…"

Wheeler propped his feet up on the coffee table, stretching his arms above his head. He didn't want to drown in the semantics of the near future. He was barely dealing with the reality of now.

"Need to get supplies," Ma-Ti said. "Kwame's overgrown fruit and vegetable patch will only do us for so long."

"Got some cuttin' back to do," Wheeler said. "Place is like a jungle, now."

"Greedly has a nice little landscaping enterprise going, according to the newspapers," Gi said, unable to hide a grin. "Maybe you could give him a call?"

"Screw that," Wheeler said darkly.

"Did your friends get home okay?

"No idea," he said. "Stupid phone took an unexpected swim yesterday. Couldn't call 'em."

"Oh God," Gi muttered. She gently extracted herself; manoeuvring Linka's head gently back onto the pillow. She hurried away, pulling out her own cell phone. "I gotta call my parents."

Wheeler attempted to give her a kick up the bum as she moved past. Gi dodged it easily, slapping him across the thigh. A small smile curled her lips as she left.

He rubbed his face tiredly. The events of the past day were catching up with him. He sunk back, quite content to remain in the armchair for the night, ignoring Lucile Ball and her rasping voice coming from the television.

His gaze drifted towards Linka, surprised to see that her eyes were open. She blinked sleepily, clutching the pillow against her cheek and watching him. Slender fingers flexed against the pillow and she raised herself slightly; her bun flopping forward as she tried to push herself up.

"You all right?" he asked, on his feet and crossing the distance between them in a few strides. Crouching down, he helped her into a sitting position. "You need —"

"Bathroom," she said softly.

"All righty."

She hooked an arm across his shoulders as he helped lift her up. She gasped in pain as her feet touched the floor, tightening her grip around his neck. He lifted her further until she was perched against his hip. Together they lumbered towards the toilet; her legs swaying idly beneath her.

He waited outside, leaning against the wall. Eventually she hobbled out, gritting her teeth and pressing all her weight on her heels — the only area of her feet that hadn't sustained too much damage.

"C'mere."

"It is fine," she rasped, waving her hand. "I think my feet are —"

"Stubborn mule."

"Shut up, Yank —"

"Ah, cram it, toots."

He picked her up anyway, carrying her back to the couch and ignoring the grumbling. Lowering her back onto the makeshift bed, he gave her a wry smile and moved to leave but she gripped his hand. He hesitated; eyes briefly skimming the plaster hiding the broken nails and skin he knew to be beneath.

"Need somethin' el —"

Linka shook her head, moving her pillow aside and vacating the spot next to her. He sat down, watching her curl up — resting her head on his lap, just as she had with Gi. She snuggled down with a tired sigh up as he repositioned the blanket carefully around her.

He couldn't help himself. The bruises were still there — stark against her pale skin. He ran his index finger along the line of her throat, tracing the purple discolouration. Goose pimples broke out where his touch had lingered. She shivered, flexing her fingers; her eyes blinking sleepily.

That flare of anger rose again at what had been done to her. His fingers stroked slowly through her hair; smoothing the loose tendrils that had escaped her bun. He lowered his mouth to her ear. "Who did that to you, baby?"

"I do not know."

"You'd tell me if you did, though?"

"Da," she whispered. "I do not remember."

He squeezed her shoulder, feeling her hand settle against his stomach.

Ma-Ti was snoring softly. Kwame and Gi hadn't returned and Wheeler assumed they'd gone to bed. He slumped back, closing his eyes; allowing the laughter from the TV sitcom audience and Linka's steady breathing help to lull him to sleep.

"I am guessing you have not done a supply run for some time?"

"Is it that obvious?"

Linka sat perched at the counter, her chin in her hands and watching Gi bustle around the kitchen. She ran a finger over the timber, through the layer of dust that had accumulated. Today was the first opportunity she'd had to get up and around — in a manner of speaking. Feeling strong enough to spend the morning sitting on the sand in the warm sun, content to watch Ma-Ti and Gi swim.

She'd politely rejected their offer to help her into the waves, not wanting to face the salt-water just yet. Her wounds were still healing, but she was beginning to feel half-human again. Her strength was returning, as was her determination.

Her memory had unfortunately remained where it was, trapped in the vacuum of time lost. The lack of knowledge weighed heavily on her, as did the constant throb around her temple. She drew wavy lines on the dusty surface, watching Gi rifling through the cupboards for something to eat and drink.

"There is not much here?"

"Ah!" Gi exclaimed, finding a couple of errant tea bags. "Nope. Not much left. How's your headache?"

"Still there," she said tiredly, rubbing her forehead and eyeing the pantry. "Is there any paracet —"

"Nope."

"Dyermo," she muttered.

Gi clonked two steaming mugs down, smiling apologetically at Linka. "No milk, either. It's out-of-date strawberry and rooibos tea, I'm afraid."

Linka nodded, clutching the mug in her hands and watching the steam rise. At this point, she'd take anything. "Spasiba."

"Probably better for your throat, anyway." Gi leaned over, pulling the scarf aside and wincing at the sight that greeted her.

Linka was under no illusions about what lay beneath. She'd seen them for herself in the mirror now, aware that the fading fingermarks on her skin — and the burst blood vessels in her eyes — led to only one conclusion.

Someone had attempted to strangle her — and yet she had no memory of it. But she knew (and had seen) enough to want to hide the evidence, embarrassed and self-conscious by the bruising that remained.

Frustrated, too at the complete blanks in her memory. Frustrated at the lack of answers or explanations. Nothing was coming up, no matter how hard she delved. No matter how many questions she was asked, she had nothing to give them — or herself.

She rubbed her forehead, sipping her tea and listening to Gi's pleasant voice chattering away in the background.

"Don't even have any clothes here," she complained, staring down at the lacy sundress she was still wearing two days later. "Still damp from washing —"

"Clothes?" Linka frowned, not understanding. "Where are your clothes?"

"Took them home," she said. "We all did, all our personal stuff. My old wardrobe at home is a good deal smaller, which kinda —"

"I do not understand. Why would you —"

"No use leaving them here, since —" Gi stared for a moment, cottoning on to reason for Linka's confusion. "Oh God… we went home, Lin."

"What?" Linka's blood ran cold. She dropped her mug to the counter, sloshing tea over the surface. "You all went home?"

Gi's mouth opened and closed a few times. "We left," she finally whispered, her cheeks aflame. "We packed up and left Hope Island, Lin. Took our belongings with us. It was —"

"Why?"

"You never made it out of Blight's lab," she said, trying to explain and turning redder by the minute. "Kwame and I saw you disappear. The lab exploded."

"You all left the Planeteers?" Linka was dumbfounded. In all honesty, the thought hadn't even occurred to her.

"No one was willing to continue on without you."

"Oh God, I had not even realised —"

"I'm so sorry, Lin. I know this must be —"

"Ten weeks, you said?"

"Yeah."

She blew a harsh breath outwards, rubbing her bandaged wrist. The remnants of mosquito marks were still present on her skin, dotting her arms like a random patchwork. They were no longer bothering her, but it was small comfort knowing she was unable to dredge up the circumstances behind them.

"Where was I? What happened to me?"

"I don't know." Gi shook her head miserably. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"It is…" Her face tightened, trying to draw forth something. "I remember Alaska."

"Do you remember the compound in Vegas?"

"I remember Sludge's computer. I remember MAL."

"Do you remember going out to —"

"I think I…" Linka's face tightened as she tried to recall the sketchy details. "Ma-Ti was shot?"

Yeah," she said, clutching her hand and careful not to disturb the fresh bandage. "We think — I mean we assumed that Blight had been after you all along. You were the target. Bleak and a new guy — Krud, or something? Big, ugly dude. They dragged you away."

"Oh?"

"Weird looking machine and a big silver wobbly hole on the floor. All four of you just disappeared. No trace. Explosion destroyed the room and the rest of the equipment."

"Really?"

"There was even a public memorial," Gi said, squeezing Linka's fingers. "They were talking about dedicating a statue."

"A statue?"

"Hate to break it to you," Gi said, smiling through the tears. "Don't think you're gonna get one now."

A bubble of laughter escaped Linka's lips. "Looks like my legacy will have to be put on hold."

"How disappointing for you," she laughed, embracing her awkwardly from their position on the stools. "Missed you so much."

"I am sure I missed you too," she breathed. "Three months of limbo."

"It's been three months of hell."

Linka sipped her tea with trembling hands, processing this new information.

"First couple of weeks were really bad," Gi said softly, wiping her eyes quickly. She let out a heavy breath, glancing at Linka and touching the scarf wrapped loosely around Linka's neck. "Nothing's coming back to you about your time —?"

"I don't remember anything." Linka's gaze settled on the boys who were in the process of cutting the foliage back outdoors; an attempt at making the place liveable again. "You have had to move on without me?"

"Didn't want to," Gi said, her voice rising slightly, as if feeling the need to justify herself. "Didn't have much of a choice."

"Nyet," Linka said quickly, wanting Gi to understand. "That is not what I meant. You obviously left Hope Island. Left the Planeteers?"

"Yeah," Gi said cautiously. "We —"

"You started new lives without me. New jobs? New living arrangements?"

"Yeah."

"What has everyone been doing?" She bit her lip. This conversation was bordering on surreal. "What did you all —"

"I went home. Back into research and marine study with my parents."

"All right." Linka flicked her gaze to the boys working outside. "What about —"

"Kwame was offered a position in landscaping near Johannesburg, I think. Ma-Ti went back to his village."

"And Wheeler?"

Linka propped her chin in her good palm, twisting and watching Wheeler's head bobbing past the window. He was bare-chested; sweat glistening in the heat, hair mussed up and flattened into place by a New York Yankees cap. His Brooklyn twang resonated over the others as they talked back and forth.

"Don't know, in all honesty."

Linka arched an eyebrow, surprised. "Why don't —"

"He was pretty cut up," she said, lowering her voice. "I know he was back with his parents for a few weeks, but Kwame said that didn't last. Not really sure."

"Oh."

Gi shrugged. "It is what it is."

"What if you or they do not wish to remain?" she whispered, motioning towards the others and wiping tears away with the back of her bandage. "It is not fair to expect you all to drop everything and return when you have established —"

"Are you serious?" Gi looked gobsmacked. "You —"

"Three months is a long time," she said, pushing her hair back from her face and slumping in her chair. Her knees bumped Gi's. "I… oh, I do not know. I am so confused. It does not seem real."

"I know." Gi smiled reassuringly, rubbing her shoulder. "I can assure you, it's been very real for us."

Linka nodded, watching Ma-Ti pushing a wheelbarrow across her line of sight. He waved, giving her a small smile and she raised her bandaged hand in return.

"You don't understand," Gi said softly. "Our world literally stopped. We thought you were dead. The Planeteers fell apart. Ma-Ti struggled. Could barely get a word out of Kwame. Refused to talk about it. Blamed himself. Wheeler was a complete mess, shut himself off from the rest of us."

"I am so sorry," Linka whispered, leaning forward and resting her forehead against Gi's. "I had no idea."

"There's no Planeteers without you," she said, smiling through her tears. "You're our backbone. You're the voice of reason. You tie us all together."

"I am feeling anything but together right now," she lamented. "I feel like I am missing so many links in the chain —"

Gi's eyes widened. She snapped her fingers, hopping off the stool and dashing away from the kitchen.

Linka sat quietly, unsure what was going on. She wasn't in a position to follow Gi, needing constant help from one of the boys to move from place to place. She sipped her tea instead, watching Kwame standing just outside the window — rake in hand and talking to Ma-Ti.

Hurried footsteps returned. Linka looked up as Gi dashed in, holding a small, crumpled bag.

"Here."

"What is it?" Linka reached for it. "What —"

She opened the bag and peeked inside, pulling out an assortment of weird odds and ends. It was a thin, chain necklace that caught her eye, however. Old and rusted, discoloured. A pretty 'belcher' type clasp connected the ends and she ran her thumb over it, intrigued.

"Bleak gave it to Wheeler and Ma-Ti just after they found you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," she said. "I guess Bleak assumed they belonged to you."

"Really?"

"Probably stole it."

"I do not recognise it," she said, turning the chain over in her hands. "Or at least, I do not remember…"

"Maybe it'll come with time."

"I hope so."

"So glad you're back, Lin," she whispered, pressing a kiss to Linka's cheek. "You were missed. More than you'll ever know."