Beside A Burning Sea Part 12

Joshua watched a gull glide about the beach. "Isabelle told me about that night. The night you saved them. And more than you'll ever know, I'm grateful for what you did."

"It was my honor."

"You . . . you saved my family. Which means that you also saved me. And because of that I'm going to trust you."

Akira turned back to the sea. "What, may I ask, will you do with the prisoner?"

"I don't know," Joshua said, sighing. "Nothing, I suppose. Just keep him tied up and hope that he doesn't cause any more trouble."

"He will not tell you anything."

"I agree. I'm through asking him questions."

Straightening his wrinkled shirt, Akira said, "I wonder what the emperor would think of this."

"Of what?"

"An officer of the Imperial Army talking with an American naval captain." Akira smiled, adding, "He would fall from his throne."

"Maybe we should send him a picture."

"Ah, I would like that. A picture, yes?" Akira grinned. "Thank you for that thought."

Joshua turned from Benevolence Benevolence. "It was my pleasure," he replied, his swollen lip forming a smile. "I like the thought as well."

WAIST DEEP IN THEIR swimming hole, Annie scrubbed her arms with sand. During the past few minutes she'd also tried seaweed and the husk from a coconut. She'd ultimately decided that sand worked best, that it actually removed the island's grime from her skin. A few feet away, Isabelle had come to the same conclusion. The sisters scrubbed in silence, each angry about the morning's events.

Not surprisingly, Annie was the first to speak. "It was wrong to gag him, Isabelle. You know that as well as I do."

Isabelle dropped the sand from her hands. "What was wrong was for you to openly debate Joshua."

"Debate him? Is he a king and I'm his subject? I was only trying to protect our patient. I was-"

"Do you have to be so naive? Is it really necessary, Annie? We're at war, remember? We're not on vacation in a tropical paradise, but at war. And in war unpleasant things happen."

Annie stepped toward her sister. "He saved us! He carried me on his back and almost died in the process!"

Isabelle picked up a handful of sand and began to scrub her legs. "I know that. For goodness' sake, don't you think I know that? I'm grateful for what he did, but it still doesn't change the fact that we're at war. Joshua was just playing it safe."

"If Akira had played it safe we'd both be dead!"

"Annie, that's not-"

"He'd be free on this island and we'd still be in Benevolence Benevolence."

"Fine. I'll grant you that. But would you rather that Joshua not play it safe? That he jeopardize lives just so a man's feelings don't get hurt?"

"Of course not!"

"He loves me. He loves you. He loves his unborn child. So he's going to do his best to protect us. Just like you're protecting Akira-a man, I should remind you, who you hardly know. Think about what you'd do if you were about to become a mother. Who would you protect then? What lengths would you go to so that no harm came to your child?"

Annie started to speak, then stopped. "I'm not . . . I'm not angry at Joshua for protecting us. I just . . . I'm just not pleased with how it happened. Akira didn't deserve that."

"He's a soldier, Annie. He understands."

Sighing, Annie sank deeper into the water. Though irritated that Isabelle couldn't see her point, Annie was mostly unnerved by the fight between Roger and Akira. "If Josh and Jake hadn't returned, Roger would have killed him," she said, glancing back toward camp. "That man's a monster."

Isabelle nodded, starting to scrub herself again. "Akira moved just as fast. But I agree; something's not right with Roger."

"He's crazy and evil; that's what's not right."

"But we've seen that before. We know how war turns good men into great men and bad men into villains. How many times have we spoken about that?"

"I don't trust him," Annie replied uneasily. "I've caught him watching me. And . . . and I didn't like what I saw."

Reaching for more sand, Isabelle resolved to keep a closer eye on Roger. She hated the thought of him watching Annie. "I'll talk to Joshua about him. I'll get him sent off to look for caves, and we can wash our hands of him. But just to be safe, stay close to someone, because I don't trust him either."

"I will."

"You hear me, Annie? Stay close to someone and you'll have nothing to fear."

Annie spotted a strand of seaweed in her sister's hair and leaned forward to remove it. The strand was tangled in Isabelle's locks, and as Annie pulled it out, she was reminded of untying her sister's braids in the bath. "I don't know . . . I don't know why I'm so protective of Akira," she said softly.

"You're a nurse, Annie. He's your patient. And he did save you."

"I know. But . . . he's more than a patient to me."

"What exactly is he?"

"I don't know exactly. But he's teaching me about poetry, and I . . . and I like spending time with him."

Isabelle flinched as a fish b.u.mped into her calf. "Why?"

"Because he doesn't judge me. And I . . . seem to please him."

"And he pleases you?"

"He does."

"And you don't feel guilty about Ted?"

"Why would I? I haven't done anything wrong. Can't I be friends with my patient?"

Isabelle shrugged. Though she didn't agree, she wasn't interested in further debating the point. "Well, I'm happy that he's put a smile on your face, that he's teaching you poetry. I'm sure it helps to pa.s.s the time."

"It's wonderful. It's . . . taught me to think in different ways. Kind of like painting did."

"He certainly seems to enjoy teaching you."

Annie plucked the last of the seaweed from Isabelle's hair. "As you know better than anyone, I'm unsure of almost everything. But his presence . . . it makes me less unsure."

"How?"

"Is that how you feel with Joshua? More sure of yourself? Of course, I know that's never been one of your bigger problems."

Isabelle swished seawater through her teeth. "You're right. I've always been confident. At least, ever since you got sick. So that's not why I'm with Josh. I don't need his . . . validation. But still, his company makes me happy. Sometimes I stop worrying about all that I have to do and instead, believe it or not, simply enjoy the moment. That's why I'm with him, I think. Because it's possible for me to relax in his presence. Because he lets me know that I'm not alone."

"But you've never been alone."

"Never? No, that's not true. There are degrees to everything."

"What do you mean?"

Isabelle smiled faintly, accustomed to Annie's questions, which at times seemed endless. "The love of a good man makes you feel less alone, Annie. Ted doesn't . . . he doesn't make you feel that way?"

Annie picked up a sh.e.l.l, bringing it into a light it had never seen. "He has a good heart. He makes me laugh. But at the end of the day, Ted is mostly concerned about Ted. And he has little faith in me."

Isabelle nodded, knowing that one of the reasons Annie became a nurse was to prove her fiance wrong. "No one else sees that in him."

"I know. To everyone else, he's the sports hero, the homecoming king, the future governor. And I'm just the lucky girl who will someday bear his children."

"Maybe the war will change him for the better. Maybe he'll see things differently."

"I'd like that, Izzy. I really would. But I think . . . I think people are less capable of change than we want to believe."

Isabelle sighed, taking Annie's hand. "We should go. We've been gone too long as it is."

Annie followed Isabelle out of the water, glad that their argument was over. She hadn't gone far when she wondered why her sister's footsteps were so easy to follow and her fiance's sometimes so difficult. Where did Isabelle lead her that Ted didn't?

DEEP WITHIN THE JUNGLE, Roger seethed. To release his fury, he threw rocks at geckos on a tree branch until he struck one and it fell to the ground. Grabbing the stunned creature, he crunched its skull between his thumbs and then leaned back against a boulder. Furious that he'd tightened his grip on the spear when the prisoner had spoken of attacking, and that he'd so completely lost his temper during the ensuing confrontation, he pressed his sweaty palms against his eyes, craving a cigarette. "G.o.dd.a.m.n j.a.ps," he muttered, picking up the gecko's body and hurling it into the jungle.

Roger had long known that his temper could undermine his missions, and yet until landing on the island, his rage had never created problems. But here, with the relentless headaches and heat, his rage had become almost unmanageable. His hate of the other survivors further fueled his fury, and sometimes it took all his mental fort.i.tude to not lash out at everyone around him. To not punish those who offended him was entirely contrary to his convictions. He felt helpless, painfully aware that his strength had somehow been stolen, that circ.u.mstances had reduced him once again to the young boy who was unable to silence his tormentors.

As if he didn't have enough pressure on him, Roger now had to worry about whether Akira had seen him tighten his grip on the spear. "Did the monkey notice?" he asked himself, slapping at a mosquito, his voice raw with fury. Roger didn't think that Annie's patient had seen him prepare to be attacked. But still, giving any hint whatsoever that he understood j.a.panese had been a colossal mistake-a mistake almost bound to be repeated, as with the two prisoners together, he'd be forced to endure more such conversations.

Roger debated the merits of killing either or both men. Even though he reviled Akira, he hesitated dispatching him immediately because the others would know that he'd done so. No, it would be better to kill him later, during or after the j.a.panese landing. He could then kill him in his own way-taking his time and savoring the moment. He could bury him neck deep in the sand and watch the tide rise over his pleading face.

Killing the airman first made more sense. The man was bound and already injured, after all. How hard would it be to suffocate him in the dead of night? And how could anyone suspect treachery when the j.a.p already had a head wound and could easily have died naturally?

His pulse quickening, Roger continued to plot. He could wait to kill the airman until the moon was hidden by clouds and the wind masked his sounds. Fortunately, the wind was often loud at night, flapping the giant leaves about them.

Or he could do the opposite. He could whisper to the airman of who he was. He could somehow set him free and rendezvous with him later. An ally could certainly be useful in the days ahead. With such an ally, he could easily kill all of Benevolence Benevolence's survivors.

Though intrigued by the possibilities of letting the airman go, the four scratches on Roger's face still burned, and because of those scratches, he decided that the prisoner would perish.

The Nip will die tonight, he promised himself. And though he'll die without a sound, he'll see me, and I'll make it hurt like h.e.l.lfire, and he'll know of my revenge. That G.o.dd.a.m.n monkey will know I won.

DAY SEVEN.

As Plato once said, Just the dead will see war's end.

Young flowers fear frost.

False Dawn

Beyond the harbor, beneath the swells to the west of the island, Benevolence Benevolence rested. After sinking, the ship had broken in two and each part had settled upon a virgin reef. For three days, oil had leaked from rested. After sinking, the ship had broken in two and each part had settled upon a virgin reef. For three days, oil had leaked from Benevolence Benevolence's torn stern, fouling the pristine waters. The oil had kept sea life away, but once the water cleared, turtles and sharks and dozens of varieties of fish ventured into the ruined infrastructure of the ship. Some of the turtles became trapped within Benevolence Benevolence , and soon their bodies mingled with hundreds of human corpses. , and soon their bodies mingled with hundreds of human corpses.

Scavengers now explored the lifeless ship, cleaning it of the dead. Already miniature barnacles had affixed themselves to ma.s.sive iron walls. And lobsters and moray eels had made homes within man-made caves. The bridge of Benevolence Benevolence was still intact, and a leopard shark had taken up residence beneath the table where Joshua once studied maps. was still intact, and a leopard shark had taken up residence beneath the table where Joshua once studied maps.

Not far from Benevolence Benevolence, scores of planes and smaller boats also littered the seafloor. These were burial grounds for men and homes to all forms of sea life. Soon other objects would sink from the world above-tanks, rifles, bombs, and ships that dwarfed Benevolence Benevolence. Thousands of soldiers would also fall beneath the surface-their bodies and memories forever lost at sea.

Staring out over the waves, Joshua was aware only of his ship. As he kneeled on the beach in the early morning light, he prayed for the dead. He offered such prayers every morning, praying that the dead were in heaven and that their families would someday again know peace. Though he believed strongly in G.o.d, his belief was not unshakable, and he often looked skyward as if seeking a reminder of a higher power.

After praying for the safety of his family and making a sign of the cross, Joshua returned to camp. Everyone was still asleep, or at least content to have their eyes closed-perhaps enjoying the coolness of the morning. Over the past few days, people had started to sleep farther from the banyan tree. Thus palm fronds, banana peels, and coconut husks were scattered about. Joshua began to collect such items and quietly place them into the fire. When he neared Isabelle, he paused, watching her sleep. Though her skin was speckled with sand and lined with grime, the sight of her sleeping was a beautiful thing, and he beheld her face as the sun climbed higher. He thought about the child she carried, and he marveled that a new life grew within her. Though he wasn't p.r.o.ne to such thoughts, Joshua wondered what it would be like to have life develop within him. Would men be so quick to kill each other if they experienced such creation?

Joshua licked his swollen lip and continued to tidy the camp. He would have never let Benevolence Benevolence fall into such disarray, but here he didn't want to order people around unnecessarily. After all, everyone was tired and hot and covered in bug bites, and yesterday's events proved that people were also on edge. Morale needed to be raised, he realized, though he was uncertain what to do to lift their spirits. Of course, Roger would be sent away, he knew that much. And without Roger sulking about, the mood around camp should improve. fall into such disarray, but here he didn't want to order people around unnecessarily. After all, everyone was tired and hot and covered in bug bites, and yesterday's events proved that people were also on edge. Morale needed to be raised, he realized, though he was uncertain what to do to lift their spirits. Of course, Roger would be sent away, he knew that much. And without Roger sulking about, the mood around camp should improve.

Nearing the airman, Joshua was surprised to see that he hadn't changed positions all morning. The prisoner's hands and feet were bound and a rope connected him to the banyan tree. He still lay on his side and rested his hands beside his belly. A cup of water and some nearby bananas were untouched. A fly landed on the man's face, and instinctively Joshua leaned down to chase it away. Only then did he realize that the airman's chest wasn't moving.

Joshua dropped to his knees and felt for a pulse. The man's flesh was cool and unmoving against him. "Oh, no," he whispered, placing the back of his hand before the airman's mouth. No breath came forward. Muttering to himself, Joshua ran his hands through his hair. He rose, moving quietly toward where Scarlet lay some two dozen paces away. She rested on her back and her eyes were open.

"I need you," he whispered. Wordlessly, she followed him to the airman. Joshua knelt and said, "I think . . . I think he's dead. I don't understand it, but I think he's dead."

Scarlet moved forward, checking the man's vitals. She turned to Joshua. "He's been dead for some time," she said quietly. "By the look of him, probably for hours."

"For hours? How?" he asked, untying the man so that she could more easily examine him.

She sighed and carefully moved his head. Blood trickled from his ears and his nose. The skin around his wound was bruised and swollen. "He must . . . he hemorrhaged in the night."

"Hemorrhaged? I didn't think his wound was life threatening. I thought-"

"Head wounds are always dangerous," she interrupted. "He must have been bleeding internally and we never realized it."