“We’re going to get you to a hospital as quickly as possible, I promise. Just rest easy.”
Lincoln muttered something inaudible. Rory signaled to Bjorn to take his place so he could move in closer, his ear hovering over Lincoln’s face. It was still hard to make out what he said, but Rory guessed he was worried about his med kit again.
“I have it. Don’t worry about a thing.”
“No,” Lincoln managed.
“No…what? What do you mean?”
“No hospital. Not safe. Nowhere safe.”
Well, crap.
22
The rescue crew got back to the camp after dark. They were all exhausted, but so full of adrenaline that they couldn’t sleep. Neither could the folks who had stayed at the camp. They’d all stayed up in case a search party had to be sent after the first group.
Everyone except Lincoln, who was unconscious again, and Philip Phelps, who had left that afternoon, gathered around the lava ring fire pit to “talk story,” as Hawaiians called it.
Mathilda fed guava wood into the fire as Rory told them about the helicopter crash. He had deep shadows under his eyes and his shoulders drooped from fatigue.
“My theory is that they lost power and oxygen, and the crew passed out.”
“How does something like that happen?” Sasha wanted to know. Her hoodie was pulled over her silver hair to fend off the occasional sprinkles.
“It shouldn’t. I don’t know without a closer inspection and we didn’t have time for that. Mechanical failure, sabotage. Hard to say.”
“So there’s four dead bodies out there in the jungle?” Cody pulled out a flask of his favorite vodka and took a shot.
“Yup. I plan to hike out tomorrow and notify the authorities.” Rory accepted the flask Cody passed him. “I still don’t know if we’re all safe here. We should probably post a guard. Take shifts, all that.”
They all exchanged glances, then Mathilda spoke for the group. “We decided to close down the camp for a week. We’re low on supplies anyway. We’ll take a break, do some shopping, check in with our departments. Let things settle down a bit.”
Rory nodded slowly. “I can understand that. I’m really sorry about all this.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Diane said softly. “Your plane crashed. None of this is on you.” She put a hand on Rory’s knee. Mathilda felt every muscle in her body go tense. Diane didn’t warm up to just anyone. She was a sensitive person who needed time to adjust to new people’s energy—or that was how she put it. She’d kept her distance from Lincoln/Rory until now.
You’re being ridiculous, she scolded herself. She and Rory weren’t real, or exclusive, or official in any way. But still, that hand…she didn’t relax until Diane removed it so she could drink from the flask.
“What will you do?” Robert asked Rory. “Not sure old Lincoln Log will be able to walk with us.”
They all burst into laughter at that nickname—even Rory, who laughed until his eyes teared up.
“Oh man,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I needed that. I’m going to see how he is in the morning. With any luck, he’ll be coherent enough to help me make a decision. If not—” he shrugged. “I’ll let tomorrow’s wind blow tomorrow. It’s something my grandmother says,” he added.
“We’ll help you carry him out of here if need be,” Robert said. “You’re ohana now.”
“Ohana?”
“Kind of like family,” Mathilda whispered to him. “Part of the crew. Didn’t you ever watch Lilo and Stitch?”
“Uh, no.” He didn’t look like he’d ever even heard of it. “Kids movie?”
“So much more. Anyway, he just means that you’re part of our group and we’re not going to just abandon you and Lincoln.”
The others had launched into a heated conversation about whether or not to shut down the solar system while they were gone. She used the opportunity to scoot her lawn chair farther from the circle so she and Rory could talk privately. He followed suit, and she leaned close to whisper to him.
“What about the you-know-what? Do you know anything more?”
