Gabe squeezed Damian’s hand as the man walked close, facing Damian off, holding his radio. “So? I need to verify who you are. Names.”
“Damian Bourne.”
The soldier looked up, surprised at that deep, composed voice. “You talk? Wonderful? And your friend’s name?”
Gabe spoke, holding Damian’s hand tight. “Gabriel Langston. We were on a plane…. It crashed…. Qantico airlines… six years ago… roughly…”
The man’s eyes widened a bit, whistling. “Fuck me! Do you hear this, guys? Six years on this shithole. Plane crash? I need to verify this. You’re crew?”
Gabe almost fainted from shock, his eyes roaming the men poking at their stuff, roaming their home. “I’m crew… flight attendant…”
“And ‘mister I don’t talk’ here?”
Damian’s eyes went to him, and the man averted his eyes. “Damian Bourne. CEO of Bourne Land Development.”
The man took his radio and spoke to somebody, dictating their names. “Now we wait whilst this is being verified. You’ve been here six years? Fucking hell! You don’t look too bad.” The radio buzzed, and he listened, holding it to his ear. His eyes going to Damian, a different light in them. “Alright… alright… fucking hell. Copy. Over.” He spoke to Damian, his tone tamed, that mocking edge gone. “Mr. Bourne… it is close to a miracle. Who can we contact to verify your identity?”
Damian blinked at him, but then a name popped up, almost forgotten. “Harold Weiner.”
“Family?”
“No. A friend.” The word tasted so foreign, it died in his mouth, sweat trickling down his back and face. A slight tremor as the adrenaline left his body. Holding Gabe’s hand, Walter asleep at his feet. Looking at the men standing, waiting, almost bored. The leaders exchanged a few words, more words on the radio.
“Alright. Let’s go. We can do the rest on the ship. Must be a relief, right? I’m quite proud we found you. Blind luck that we picked this shithole to do a drill.”
Damian froze, his heart icing over, his lips numb. “Go?”
“Yes, go. Leave. We need to leave now? Pack what you have and put something on. Underwear in this state will not cut it on the ship.” Light laughter from the men.
Damian looked at Gabe, both wide-eyed. That word ringing in their minds. Leave. Now. Pack.Their eyes roaming that life built during the years.Leave. Pack. What? How?
The man cleared his throat. “Hey, no offense, but we have other things to do. Hurry up? It’s not like you should take anything off this junk pile.”
Damian’s face darkened, and he almost turned to the man when Gabe grabbed his other hand, meeting his desperate, steel eyes. Shaking his head, in tears.
Damian stepped close, his hands going around Gabe’s face, his voice a soft whisper. “Our home…”
“I know… but we have to go, right?” Damian’s lips pinched.They had to?He was not sure. Not sure at all when this was all they had dreamt about for years.Madness.Gabe pulled at his hands, so he looked at him. “We don’t have a choice. They won’t leave us here, these men…”
Damian sighed, almost in shock, looking around one last time. He looked down at the sleeping pig and knelt in front of the animal, putting his hands around his large head. “Be good, Walter… be good to Gisele… and your babies. We won’t eat them anymore…” He could not talk, his tears rushing down his cheeks. Walter snorted, his eyes on the human, and he nudged his hand to get another caress. Damian scratched that sweet spot behind his ear and rose, steeling himself to turn away. He walked to the pen and opened the latch, the piglets pouring out, squealing. Gisele followed, puzzled a bit at that sudden freedom for her children.
Damian patted her head. “Good girl…”
His eyes roamed their home, his weapons lining the bottom of the hut, their life… Back to Gabe, who just stood there, in shock.
Damian walked to him and took his hand, turning to that vaguely bored man. “We can go now.”
“Your clothes?”
“This is what we have.”
“Fucking great… Ok, let’s go.”
They surrounded them, trudging down to the beach on the path, the leader on his radio. That moment, like a dream on that white sand, their beach. Climbing in a boat, pushed onto the soft waves. Sitting, holding tight as the boat turned, and they watched the island shrink, fast, like a vision. Their eyes wide at leaving, those moments they had imagined many times, suddenly reality. Seeing the island as it was, a tiny speck in that vast blue when it had been their whole world. Endless explorations and adventures, the smell of humans around them thick, huddled in that boat. Silent, when it sidled up to a huge battleship. They had to climb a ladder, but it was effortless, used to climbing trees and rocks. Into the ship, that soft rumbling everywhere, slight tremors in that cold metal. They were led down corridors to the upper deck, to somebody in uniform who was probably in charge.
He smiled, extending his hand, which Damian ignored. “Mr. Bourne… an honor to be your rescuer.”
Damian’s hand clenched on Gabe’s. “I’m not alone.”
