Feel Me Fall Read online

  Jacinto veered towards the jungle, and as he stepped into the overgrowth, we paused at the border. With no choice, we were once again swallowed inside the wall of green. Jacinto walked quickly and quietly, as if born to walk here. With him by my side, the jungle didn’t feel ominous. Instead, it took on the aspect of welcome, a secret garden, even a luminous playground.

  I tapped the man and mime-asked, “How…much…longer?” I used my two fingers to make a walking motion.

  He spoke and I didn’t understand a word. He pointed at the sun and then pointed a few degrees away from its location in the sky. He wasn’t talking distance; he was talking time.

  Molly asked, “What do you think, Emily?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a few hours? The end of the day?”

  Viv said, “I don’t care. A day or two is fine. We’re going home!” She suddenly cried. “I can’t believe it. Home. It’s real. It’s really real.”

  Derek dragged behind, his hatchet at his side. He said to Viv, “What are you gonna miss most about this place?”

  “Seriously? Not a damn thing.”

  Derek stopped. “What about the stars? Your star?”

  Viv gave him a oh, that’s so cute look and said, “They aren’t going anywhere. Like you said, they’re always there.”

  “But you’ll never see ‘em again. Not like this.”

  “Derek,” she said. “Believe me, that’s a good thing.”

  I turned to Molly, “What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get back?”

  “Sleep. I am going to sleep in my queen bed with a comforter and stuffed animals and just lie there forever and ever.”

  Viv said, “I am going to eat. Like, anything. Whatever it is. Chocolate cake, BBQ, ice cream, lobster bisque, the fattier, the better.”

  Viv was talking to me! She was talking normal!

  “I’m going to take a long, hot shower,” I said. “And stay there until my skin shrivels up.”

  “A shower! That’s right,” said Molly. “I’ll do that first.”

  “Actually,” Viv laughed, “I can’t wait to use a proper toilet.”

  I thought of all the things I looked forward to: Chapstick, a cozy robe and slippers, Kleenex and nail clippers. Not the sexiest list, but definitely the most necessary.

  I turned to Derek. “What about you, Derek? What’s the first thing you’re going to do?”

  “What?”

  “Home. What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you get there?”

  “I don’t know.” He seemed distracted.

  “Derek? You all right?”

  After a moment his eyes found me and he said, “Yes. I’m fine. Great, actually.”

  “Good.”

  With that, he got a bounce in his step, and I thought: there’s the Derek I’d come to know. He radiated happiness, and now we could all share the good news as a group. He picked up speed as he passed us, walking quickly towards Jacinto.

  Suddenly, Derek lifted the hatchet and with a wide baseball swing embedded it into Jacinto’s neck. It took a moment for me to process what I was seeing. Red spurted from the man as he toppled to the ground with the wild boar. The hatchet raised again and again, the sick sounds of watermelon being sliced echoing around us. The man who was moving only seconds before now lay still, a splash of red against the wall of green. And through it all there was a bizarre smile on Derek’s face; a happy grin that didn’t belong.

  It was only later I realized all of us were screaming.

  Chapter 26

  I ran. My feet moved beneath my legs and I rushed through the green, tree branches flying past my face, my heart pounding in my ears, my breath frantic and shallow. I was so turned around, I didn’t know where I was going, only away—faster, farther, gone.

  Behind me, I heard the calls of a monster: “Emily! Emily!”

  I was prey and though I darted every which way, I felt him gaining.

  The image stuck in my mind: the hatchet slick with blood. The strain it took for Derek to wedge it out of the man’s body before plunging it back. The piston-like repetition of the hatchet going up and down. A man’s body that didn’t look like a man anymore.

  I wanted to stop and heave. I wanted to bawl my eyes out. I couldn’t.

  I had to go. Any direction, anywhere.

  I ran and ran, panic infusing me. Panic confusing me.

  I wasn’t a person or name. I was movement.

  Suddenly, I tripped. The world whirled past in a sickening blur and then it went black.

  “Emily,” a voice whispered to me. I opened my eyes. It was dark outside, and I couldn’t see past a canopy of leaves. My vision blurred at the edges. Squatting next to me was Derek, his face calm and concerned. He rested his palm on my forehead. My head throbbed. I was lying down. Glancing at my sides, I was in a bamboo stretcher. Derek must’ve found me after I passed out. He must’ve carried me back here. Wherever here was.

  I moved my hand to his and there on my forehead was a knot, thick and round. It hurt to touch.

  “Gave yourself quite a lump. Looks like a small egg.” He used a shredded red cloth to pat my head. “You’re lucky I found you when I did. What if an animal found you first?”

  Then I remembered. The cloth, I realized with horror, was from the man’s Coca-Cola shirt.

  “You killed him.” My voice sounded disembodied.

  I wanted him to say what are you talking about? You must’ve dreamt that. He’s right over there. But all he said was, “It should heal in a few days.”

  I fell into a hole of sadness. For the native who died. For Derek who had clearly lost his mind. And for us, stuck in the jungle with him. “He was going to save us.”

  “I know.”

  “Why, Derek?”

  “Why would I go back to the way it used to be, Em? Who would ever choose to go back to that life, if that’s what you want to call it? I belong here. I fit. Do you know how that feels? To finally find a place where I can be myself?” Filth was trapped underneath his fingernails, and I wondered if the man’s blood was mixed in with it.

  “You belong back home.”

  “I killed a man. Back home, I’d go to jail, but here? It’s survival of the fittest.”

  “No one would blame you. You’re in shock. The crash, everything we’ve been through. You can still go home. It’s not too late. I’ll help you. I’ll say whatever you want—”

  “Emily.” He gently shushed me. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m not crazy. In fact, this is—how do I say it?—the clearest I’ve felt in a long time.” As if to illustrate his point, he took a long breath of air through his nose.

  I shut my eyes, trying to shut him out.

  “I know you don’t understand, Em. I don’t expect you to. But I want you to know something. Something I never told anyone. Remember the day after my prom videos went viral? All those porn pictures in my locker? I was going to kill myself that day. I’d had enough. I hated myself. I hated being Derek Wert. So I researched ways to…leave. I had the drugs. The plastic bag to put over my head. A motel room reserved. I had it all planned out. Even a note in my pocket. I went to school to say goodbye to my old life. But when you helped me, in the middle of all them laughing…it meant a lot. And then you went to prom with me. I couldn’t believe it. I’m alive because of you.”

  “Then that man is dead because of me.” Everything was tragic. So damned tragic. “Why didn’t you just run off and let us go without you?”

  “Because….” He paused for a few moments. “Whoever found you would never leave if they knew I was alive. My parents, they’d put out a reward. This place would be crawling with people, bounty hunters, fortune hunters. It’d never stop. But in a few days, the planes that are looking for us will stop. They’ll call off the search.” He looked up towards the sky. “Maybe they have already.”

  I couldn’t cry. I was empty of everything except one thing, and it spread through my entire body, my entire being. “I hate you, Derek. You sh
ould’ve killed yourself. We would’ve all been better off.”

  He gave me a sad smile. “Then you wouldn’t be alive today.” He left some grubs and they wiggled on my chest. “Eat. They’re good for you.” He stood and walked away and I thought this is what I get for being a good person.

  I stayed lying down, aware of my concussion, wondering where Viv was. Where was Molly? The jungle was loud and I couldn’t hear conversation, and all around me was a kind of leaf-tent that Derek must’ve pieced together. There was movement everywhere—insects and dripping leaves and I felt as if I was swaying on a boat at sea. I yearned for stillness; I needed the world to stop so I could think. I wasn’t hungry and let the grubs fall to the ground. I pushed myself up, feeling a vicious swell of nausea. It took a moment and the sensation passed. I stood on two feet and wobbled into the jungle.

  It was dark, and I didn’t like the dark. I saw the beds Derek had made, one for Viv and himself, the other for Molly. Molly saw me and got up. Derek watched lazily from his bamboo perch, totally unconcerned.

  We moved to some bushes and I squatted. From a distance, it looked as if I was using the bathroom. I spoke to Molly in whispers. “What happened?”

  “After you fell, he made a stretcher. And we dragged you here.”

  “What about the man?”

  “Derek took his spear and his clothes and left his body. He said the animals would get him. There wouldn’t be anything to find. Then he dug a hole, a deep one. And buried the clothes.”

  “And you guys? Has he…?” I didn’t want to imagine what he could’ve done.

  She shook her head. “That’s the weirdest thing. He hasn’t threatened us. He built the beds. Found us food. It’s like nothing ever happened.”

  I looked past her at Viv, lying on the bamboo, her face turned away from us. “And Viv?”

  “She hasn’t said a word since.”

  I wanted to go over and comfort her, but I didn’t know how Derek would react. Or Viv, for that matter.

  I asked Molly, “Where are we?”

  “I don’t know….”

  “I mean, how far are we from the road?”

  Molly’s face scrunched and she stopped herself from crying. “I don’t know. I lost my sense of direction, everything’s all messed up.”

  “Can you remember? Any guesses?”

  Molly shook her head, and that’s when the tears came.

  “I’m sorry, Molly,” and I hugged her.

  “I didn’t do anything. I was paralyzed. I couldn’t move. I just sat there and watched as he….”

  “There was nothing you could’ve done. Nothing.”

  She whispered even quieter, if such a thing was possible. “We’re trapped here.”

  “We’ll leave.”

  “We can’t.”

  I understood with frightening clarity. We really were trapped. We needed Derek. We needed a murderer to survive. And he would never leave. We would never leave. I was going to be sick.

  “We’ll be okay,” I lied.

  “Will we?”

  This would not be our destiny. We would not spend our lives here. I would make sure of that.

  “I promise.”

  That night, back on my bamboo stretcher, I couldn’t sleep. I plotted escape plans. There were always two things wrong: first, I didn’t want to leave Viv behind. Or Molly for that matter. One person might be able to sneak off, but three? Second, the plans weren’t really plans. They were the run-and-hope kind. Run and hope that I would find the road. Run and hope I would find the tribal village. Run and hope I wouldn’t starve to death. Run and hope I wasn’t going deeper and further into the jungle.

  I didn’t know what to do.

  At least in camp, I had food. A semblance of shelter. I was safe. I was safer with Derek than I was without him.

  Truthfully, I didn’t want to go by myself. The more of us there were, the higher the chances somebody, somewhere might find us. Alone, I could wither and die and end up as lost as Nico, Ryan, and Jacinto.

  I didn’t want to die.

  I didn’t want to die alone.

  Someone else, but not me.

  In the morning, we woke and got up like normal, and I hated that it was becoming ‘normal.’ We emptied our bladders, put on mud masks, drank water, and ate grubs. Except this time Derek made sure to dismantle the beds, scattering their pieces randomly over the jungle floor, erasing any evidence that we’d been there. Then we were off, hiking. I didn’t know where we were going, but Derek seemed to have a place in mind. I sensed wherever he was going was opposite the river, opposite the road, and opposite civilization. The noise amplified, the air seemed heavier, the topography denser.

  We didn’t speak.

  When I tried to talk to Viv, she ignored me. Not out of fear, as I would’ve expected; she just wasn’t there. Whatever used to be behind her eyes was gone.

  “Viv,” I said. “Say something.”

  She looked at me like a doll.

  I shook her. “Say something.”

  Derek turned and said, “Something wrong, Em?”

  Something wrong? I thought. Of course there’s something wrong! Everything’s wrong! But I held my tongue.

  “No,” I replied.

  “Good. Then let’s keep going. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”

  Molly, Viv and I followed, saying nothing. Whatever hope we had felt the previous day was inverted, our bodies little husks, drained, brittle and dry, as if we could snap and crumble.

  By the time night fell, we were deep under a canopy. There was no way to see the sky, nor for a plane to see us. Derek suddenly stopped.

  “What do you think?”

  No one replied.

  “Seriously, what do you think?”

  “Of what?” I said.

  “Your new home.”

  “You mean the jungle?”

  “No, I mean right here. We’ve been nomads since the crash. But this place is perfect. It’s on high ground, so no floods. It’s flat. We can clear out this area and I’ll build a hut. Something sturdy. Picture it.” He had the zeal of a prophet. “A roof over our heads. No more rain. No more wind. Hell, I’ll even make an outhouse, so you guys’ll have some privacy. There’s plenty of bamboo, plenty of water vines. Now that I’ve got this,” and he held the spear in his hands, “I can hunt. Even fish. What do you say?”

  “That’s nice, Derek.” It was the first thing Viv had said all day.

  “I’m glad you see the vision.” He turned to me. “This is living off the land, off the grid, no pollution. Eating fresh, eating healthy.” When I didn’t comment, he added, “I know this has all been a shock, but we can make this work. I promise, on my honor to make it work. So, what do you say?”

  I said, “On your honor as what?”

  “A Boy Scout.”

  “Was murder part of the Boy Scout creed?”

  Molly and Viv flinched. The air was heavy with silence.

  “Emily, this is about freedom for all of us. But the past is something I won’t tolerate.”

  I pressed him. “Won’t tolerate how?”

  Now it was Derek who tightened his hand around the spear. “Please don’t make me do something I don’t want to do.”

  I wondered exactly what that was.

  “Emily.” It was Viv. So she wasn’t completely comatose. Almost imperceptibly, she shook her head. I got the message. I took comfort that Viv cared about me, if only a little.

  Molly said, forcing cheer, “This place looks as good as any other.”

  “It’s lovely,” Viv said, and this seemed to get his attention.

  “That’s the spirit! So, who wants to help me build our home?”

  Molly and Viv raised their hands.

  We gathered bamboo, stalks and stalks of it. Making the home (I refused to call it ‘our home’) wouldn’t happen overnight; it would take days. What else was there to do but help?

  The more I watched the jungle floor transform into something approaching a stru
cture, the more depressed I got. I should’ve been grateful to get out of the constant drizzle; to have a safe place from everything that was outside. Yet, every piece of bamboo we stitched together, every wall we created felt like one more brick on a prison of our making. This was our tombstone, our mausoleum.

  I found myself wondering if Derek would devise a way to lock the door from the outside, trapping us when he went hunting. But he didn’t need a lock to trap us; he did that by keeping his survival skills to himself. In the past, he’d been happy to point out which mushrooms were edible or not, or how to bend and use bamboo. He was a fountain of information, spouting trivia about biology and tips he’d learned while camping. Now when we asked about what kind of plants we could eat, he said, “Leave that to me.” When we asked, “How far to the river?” He said, “Leave that to me.” Our ignorance was our cage.

  I said, “Let me help you get food so you don’t have to do it all the time.”

  “I don’t mind. It makes me feel more like a man.”

  “But I want to help.”

  “I appreciate it, Em, but I got it covered.”

  I battled the urge to sabotage the project. To slow us down. But the heat and humidity did that for us. Sabotage, I realized, would gain me nothing. If caught, it would only incense Derek.

  So work we did.

  And Derek rewarded us for it. Or punished us.

  One night, after a day where I straggled behind, he only gave me half the food as everyone else: three mushrooms to Viv’s six, (and because of her pregnancy, Molly’s nine).

  “Gotta earn your keep, Em.”

  The hours ran together because one was so much like the next. We didn’t talk; we worked. The only sense of time passing was watching the progress of the hut. Oftentimes, I felt like I was living a nightmare rather than living. When Derek would go out searching for food, I found I was actually worried. He provided food, knowledge and life itself. What if he got sick? Hurt? Attacked by an animal? The worrying made me ill, not just the worry itself, but that fact that I was worried about him. I laughed. I was worrying about a murderer.