The Tortured Rebel (6 page)

‘This way,’ he said decisively, moments later. ‘Follow me.’

The going was rough.

Steep and densely forested, trying to navigate across this craggy, subtropical island was a daunting mission. It might only be twenty or so square kilometres in area, Becca thought, but if you added the distances from rock-strewn gullies to surprisingly high ridges it was probably ten times as big.

Her legs were nowhere near as long as Jet’s and the steps he seemed to take with ease were a difficult scramble for her, especially with the lumpy bag of supplies she had under her uninjured arm. And trying to suck in enough oxygen through a now sweat-soaked surgical mask.

It seemed crazy to be still wearing the masks. Totally incongruous that the sun was out, filtering down through the lush forest of palm trees they were currently climbing through. A breeze from the sea, now well behind them, was ruffling the palm fronds high above their heads but, unfortunately, it wasn’t getting down to ground level. Becca was getting hotter and hotter, toiling behind Jet up the side of what felt like a sizeable mountain.

Her head ached, her arm hurt and she was extremely thirsty. How long had they been walking? An hour? Two, maybe. Jet was showing no sign of slackening his pace and Becca certainly wasn’t going to be the first to suggest a break. She’d keep going, dammit. She’d show him that she could keep up. That she was as tough as she needed to be, like she’d claimed.

He wasn’t talking to her and, for that, Becca was grateful. Not just because talking would have made it even harder to keep her oxygen level up. Did Jet share the weird feeling that they weren’t alone on this journey?

That Matt’s ghost was walking between them?

Oh … help … Becca needed to change the direction of her thoughts. Desperately.

‘Hey … Jet?’

The response took several steps to come.

‘Yep?’ He didn’t turn his head and he sounded vaguely surprised, as though he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone. Was this the soldier in Jet? Totally focussed on the mission and nothing else? If so, it was a new side to this man. He’d always been very aware of those around him. Too aware, in some ways, able to pick up on things that people might have otherwise left unsaid. Becca didn’t think he’d changed that much and that awareness was a more likely scenario. He was deliberately trying to blot out her presence because he would prefer her not to be here with him.

Well … tough.

‘Do you think we really need to keep these masks on?’

Another short silence fell as Jet appeared to consider her query.

‘The air looks fine.’ Becca almost stumbled as she took her eyes off the ground to look up at the bright green canopy of palm fronds. The bright flash of a bird she didn’t recognise flicked past and she could hear the calls of countless others around them. Patches of vivid blue could be seen and Becca couldn’t help giving an incredulous huff of sound. ‘It looks like such a gorgeous day.’

‘Yeah …’ Jet’s tone was wry. ‘We’re lucky. The eruption’s obviously over, for the moment at least, and we’ve got a good breeze behind us. Any volcanic ash is being blown towards the other side of the island. I’m hoping the settlement’s on this side, as well.’ He tugged at his mask. ‘You’re right. Let’s ditch them. We’ve got more if we need them later.’

‘Later’ was like a piece of string. It could be any length at all. At least it felt slightly easier to breathe without the covering of fabric on her face.

‘It’s a shame the coast was too rough to get around.’

‘Seemed like a good idea to get to higher ground and a bit farther away from the volcano.’

‘How long do you reckon it’ll take us to get to the others?’

‘We’re nearly at the top of this ridge. I’ll tell you then.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘You OK to keep going for a bit?’

She wasn’t, but something in his tone suggested he’d stop if she needed to, despite the urgency of his next goal. It made her want to ignore the aches that were getting bone deep and carry on. For his sake.

‘I’m good’ was all she said.

On they went. And up. Until, finally, the ground became less steep. The trees thinned and the landscape was changing. Becca recognised splashes of red amongst dark green grey foliage.

‘Good grief. Pohutukawa trees. I feel almost at home.’

Jet didn’t seem to be interested in the botanical features of this island. He did seem to be listening to something, however.

‘Hear that?’

‘What … the birds?’

‘No … sounds like water.’

Suddenly Becca was thirstier than she’d ever been in her life. And hotter. A mirage-like image swam into her head. A mountain stream. A waterfall and a deep, still pool in front of it. She’d rip her clothes off and dive right in. Oh … she could almost feel the deliciously icy embrace of that water on her naked body.

And Jet would peel off his clothes and dive in right after her. He’d be submerged and she’d wonder where he was until she felt a tug on her ankle and squeaked in fright. He’d come up then, laughing … and then he’d pull her into his arms and.

Laughing? Jet?

What an absurd flight of fancy. A real smile had always been at the top end of his happiest expressions. Laughing was far too joyous a sound to associate with Jet Munroe.

Had that always been part of the attraction? A recognition of an intensity that was part of her own soul? If so, they’d be the worst possible combination of personalities, wouldn’t they? They’d probably fight like demons.

Or make love with a passion other people only dreamed of finding.

‘Here.’ Jet’s voice broke into her wild fantasy ride like a bomb exploding. ‘Let’s stop.’

How had she not registered the increase in that sound? There
was
a waterfall. A fairly small one and there was no pool to dive into but at this moment it was almost a relief. The water bounced and splashed over rocks before disappearing downwards.

‘Where’s it coming from? Aren’t we on the top of this ridge?’

‘There’s a higher ridge. See? It’s like a stairway and we’re on a bit of tread here.’

Peering through the trees, Becca realised she could see more greenery instead of sky in the direction Jet was pointing. It wasn’t a matter of a flattish hike and then heading upwards again, however. The disappearance of the stream revealed that a gully lay between this ridge and the next slope. How deep was it? Would they have to scramble right back to sea level and start climbing again?

It was enough of a setback to feel almost like defeat.

It could take them days to reach their goal. They might get there and find the other occupants of the island had already been rescued by ship. Would they think to send a search party for herself and Jet or assume they had gone down with the helicopter into the sea?

Becca sank down, still clutching her bag of supplies. Jet had put the life pack down. He eased the straps of the pack off his shoulders, arched his back to stretch it and then strode towards the stream.

The fact that he didn’t even look tired made Becca feel even worse. The only muscles she had the strength to use right now were attached to her eyes and they didn’t have to move much to watch what Jet was doing.

He scooped up handfuls of water and splashed them onto his face. He raked his fingers through his hair and used another handful to rub the back of his neck.

‘That feels better,’ he said in a satisfied tone. He turned his head, eyebrows raised in unmistakeable invitation. ‘You should try it.’

‘Mmm.’ Her legs felt like putty as she tried to get up again.

Could she blame her weakness purely on exhaustion or did it have something to do with the image of Jet like that, with his hair in tousled spikes as though he’d just stepped out of a shower? With an invitation glimmering in his eyes.

He was in front of her now. Extending a hand to help her to her feet.

‘I wouldn’t drink it yet,’ he said. ‘I’ve got some sterilising tablets it might be prudent to use.’

The hand was irresistible despite the insistent voice in Becca’s head that told her ignore it and show him she was more than capable of leaping to her feet unaided. The grip was firm and warm and the upward tug made it so easy to stand up. Some of that heavy disappointment that they were still so far from their goal ebbed away. The touch of Jet’s hand was like being plugged into a current of strength. A power source.

The cold water felt wonderful, even when it trickled down her neck and into her flight suit. She splashed again and again as Jet filled a specially designed bag with water and added a tablet. He set it on a rock to process and Becca sat beside it to rest.

‘I’ve never broached the survival kit in this pack before,’ he told her. ‘It’s got a lot of useful-looking bits in it.’

She leaned forward to look. ‘Like what?’

‘These water-purification pills. A good multi-tool. A lighter for getting a fire going. And … let’s see what’s in here.’ He unzipped another waterproof pouch.

‘We won’t need a fire.’

Jet made a noncommittal sound. ‘We’ll have to see
how far we get by nightfall. Don’t think we want to be climbing near cliffs in the dark.’

So he was also thinking it could take them a long time to reach the settlement. He wasn’t at all defeated by the prospect, though. He was simply thinking in terms of coping with it. Dealing with whatever obstacles presented themselves.

Becca could do that, too.

‘Don’t suppose there’s any chocolate in there?’

‘Something even better. Muesli bars.’ Jet held up a foil-wrapped bar. ‘Might be a bit stale.’

‘It’ll be great. Thanks.’ Becca took the bar but didn’t open it. ‘I need a drink first, I think. Right now I’m so dry I wouldn’t have enough spit to swallow anything.’

Jet held the bag up to the light and examined the contents. ‘Should be done. There’s a valve at the bottom. Pull it out and suck on it. Like a drink bottle.’

It was the most delicious liquid Becca had ever tasted.

‘Take it slowly,’ Jet advised. ‘Don’t skull.’

With the intention of giving him a scathing glance to let him know she knew what she was doing, Becca let her gaze drift sideways as she kept drinking. She was startled to find him staring at her intently, his expression unreadable. Her thirst suddenly slaked, she lowered her arm and handed the bag over to him.

‘I’ll fill it up again before we head off,’ Jet said, accepting the bag. ‘There’ll be more later.’

She found herself watching him drink just as intently as he’d watched her. The way the muscles in his throat rippled as he swallowed. The way his lips were closed around the valve that her own lips had been touching only moments ago.

She should be getting used to this odd, unsettling sensation deep in her gut but it was getting stronger. What had Jet been thinking as he’d watched
her
drink?

And why did she have to be remembering that kiss yet again?

He’d been astonished. She’d read that in the tension in his lips instantly. Had relived it too many times in the weeks that had followed. But she’d also relived the sure knowledge that the surprise hadn’t been unpleasant. His lips had softened. Shaped themselves to hers and moved with what felt like the same kind of wonder she’d been feeling in every cell. The sheer magic that sparkled into existence and had been just about to explode when they’d both heard the sound of Matt’s voice in the hallway.

Becca ducked her head as she felt the heat in her cheeks. She busied herself unwrapping the muesli bar.

‘I hope you’ve got dinner tucked away in there,’ she said lightly. ‘Just in case we do end up stuck out here for the night.’

Spending a night with Jet. Who would have thought? Becca didn’t dare look up to meet his gaze because she knew he was watching her.

‘Does that worry you?’ he asked, a long moment later.

Was he kidding?

‘No,’ she lied. ‘Not really.’

The silence hung between them like an unexploded bomb. Becca searched swiftly for something that she could use to defuse it.

‘I did a survival course as part of my pilot training,’ she offered. ‘I can build a pretty good snow cave.’

‘Useful.’

‘I can make a brush shelter, too.’

‘How ‘bout a tree hut?’

That earned a glare. She was being at least partially serious here. Did he have to try and make her feel like a child again? That teasing note in his voice. Talking about things like Snakes and Ladders … tree huts.

‘In case you hadn’t noticed,’ she snapped, ‘I’m all grown up now, Jet.’

He still had a hint of a smile playing with his mouth but his eyes darkened perceptibly and became very serious.

‘Oh … I’ve noticed all right.’

It was just as well Becca had finished her muesli bar because her throat tightened to the point where it would have been impossible to swallow anything without choking. It was hard to breathe, even.

It took her back to that kiss again. To the tiniest moment when they’d peeled their lips from each other’s. A graze of eye contact that had lasted less than a heartbeat but she’d known the attraction had been mutual.

He might have denied it and ignored her. It might have been apparently destroyed by what had happened later, but it had been there.

It was there again now.

She couldn’t look away. This was far more than an acknowledgment that she was an adult. A woman.

He was letting her know that she was a desirable woman.

That
he
desired her.

It was a moment she’d once dreamed of but now it was here and there was no way she could go there. It was way too complicated. Too painful. It
wasn’t
going to happen.

Forcing herself to look away from Jet finally, Becca
stared over his shoulder. Eyes narrowed but focussing on nothing. Simply trying to breathe evenly. Trying to gather up what felt like fragments of herself and put them back into some semblance of order.

Jet’s voice seemed to come with the breeze that was making her skin prickle.

‘Yeah … he’s here,’ Jet murmured softly. ‘He always is.’

T
HE
second time she stumbled, Jet was close enough to turn and catch her.

‘You want to stop again?’

‘No. Not yet.’

It had taken them at least two hours to go as far as they could along the top of that first ridge. Now they were heading down into a gully and Jet reckoned that when they reached the next ridge they should be able to see the other side of the island and pinpoint their destination.

‘Ditch the bag. You’ll be able to keep your balance better without it.’

Becca shook her head. She’d carried it this far. She wasn’t about to give up now despite how badly her arm was aching. ‘You’ll need the supplies.’

‘They’ve probably got all that stuff in the first-aid kit at the station.’

‘If it’s not buried under rubble or mud or something.’

Something like molten lava? Their journey was bringing them closer to the volcano with every hour that passed. The blue sky had been left behind and it was a dense grey above the tree canopy and mountaintops
now. Cloud or ash? The air still felt clear enough that they hadn’t put masks back on yet.

Jet merely grunted in response, turning and moving on again. He had the harder job by far, choosing the path they were taking and pushing through any undergrowth. He got to test the footing, as well, and more than once a rock or rotten branch had proved unstable. Becca was sure she’d seen him limping for a while after one such incident and he seemed slightly more cautious now.

‘Watch your feet,’ he instructed.

That was precisely what she did need to do. She had to keep her mind on the job instead of letting it endlessly circle back to that gobsmacking comment Jet had made so casually.

He’s here. He always is.

So he
was
just as aware of Matt’s ghost as she was. And not just because she was here. The matter-of-fact delivery of the statement had been spine-tingling. It had been more than ten years ago but Jet made it sound as if it was still as much a part of his everyday life as. breathing or something.

The really piercing effect of the words, however, had been the whisper of sadness behind them. For the first time, it occurred to Becca that maybe she hadn’t been the one who’d been most affected by Matt’s death. The assumption had seemed justified. He was her brother, for heaven’s sake. He’d been the most important person in her life since she’d been old enough to realise that he’d cared more about her than her parents had.

But they’d both been sent to boarding school at the earliest possible age and holidays had seemed few and far between. By high school, Matt had been in Jet’s company day and night for months at a time. Well before the
end of their schooling, they had been spending holidays as well as term time together. They had been inseparable so for the past ten years of Matt’s life Jet had spent far more time with Matt than she had. And they had chosen their friendship, not had it there automatically because of family ties.

It was—astonishingly—conceivable that Jet had loved Matt just as much as she had.

That he’d been just as devastated by losing him.

She’d never allowed him that, had she? It hadn’t even occurred to her when she’d blamed him for Matt’s death. When she’d told him she hated him and never wanted to see him again.

She’d been wrong.

Just those few words and the eddies of emotion well below their surface had told her that. So convincingly it was impossible to stop thinking about them. Or to stop tears welling occasionally that were more than enough to blur her vision and make her miss her footing.

No one else in the world would have that connection. Even Max and Rick, while welded into the unit the four of them had made, had been a step removed. It was she and Jet who had been the closest to Matt and this new insight told Becca that Jet would understand how much the tragedy had affected her life. Still affected it.

How much else did they share as a legacy? The addiction to an adrenaline rush, perhaps, because it felt so good to still be alive when it was over?

Or maybe, like her, Jet’s heart was walled off from loving someone enough to make them a life partner because it was safer than risking having them ripped away from you.

Talking to Jet about such intimate things was not
going to happen. Even if she was prepared to expose her own soul, she knew that he never would. Not to anyone, probably, and certainly not to her.

Maybe he found it just as painful to be in her company as she had in his because of the memories it picked open.

Had.
She’d put that thought into the past tense. Had something changed that much because she felt guilty about how she’d treated Jet back then?

Oh … yes.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘What?’

Dear Lord, had she actually made that apology aloud? No wonder Jet was scowling back at her over his shoulder. She couldn’t tell him what she was really apologising for. Not yet, when she still needed time to get her own head around this shift in perspective.

‘I’m … not keeping up very well. Slowing you down.’

‘You’re doing great.’

‘You could leave me somewhere, you know … and send a search party after the ship arrives.’ Becca could hear her voice trailing off. The thought of being left alone and watching Jet walking out of her life again made her feel astonishingly desolate.

His huff of sound was reassuringly dismissive. ‘Not going to happen, babe. Even if I have to carry you.’

The thought of being carried in his arms to safety was the flip side of the coin with desolation on it. Happiness. Bliss, even? Becca didn’t want to try and analyse that reaction.

‘We’d better get there before the ship arrives or they might leave without us.’

‘Why would they do that?’

‘They might think we crashed into the sea and drowned.’

‘If the emergency locator beacon was functioning, they’d see that we reached the island coastline. Plus I sent a message.’

‘Really? When? How?’

‘You were unconscious. There was a light flickering on the radio panel before it got too swamped with seawater. I sent a mayday. I also relayed that we were going to head for the settlement.’

‘Oh … that’s great.’ Becca half crouched to slide down a steep bank between trees. Jet had paused at the bottom and was holding out a hand in case she needed help. She didn’t, but when she stood up straight again she was very close to him and she looked up.

‘Well done, you, on trying the radio. That makes me feel much better.’ Her lips curled into a smile. ‘Thank you.’

‘Hey … no worries.’ He was smiling back at her. ‘I was looking out for my own skin, as well, you know. I’m not here purely as your guardian angel.’

It felt like he was. He had pulled her from the wreckage. Tended to her wounds. Was prepared to carry her through the jungle and across mountains if she couldn’t make it alone.

She owed him a lot more than simply an apology for assumptions and accusations made so long ago.

Her head bent, as though weighed down with the heaviness of obligation, Becca trudged in Jet’s wake and did her utmost to keep up with him and not slow him down too much.
Something had changed.

Somewhere in the gruelling trek they had been on for so many hours, the atmosphere had changed between them. It had been a gradual thing, a bit like the way the forest species changed from the palm trees to the pohutukawas or the way the sky had clouded over and the air temperature had dropped. Imperceptible while it was happening but suddenly you could see the difference.

Jet had become aware of the change in the moment Becca had smiled and thanked him because that smile had reached right into her eyes and made them glow with a warmth he’d never thought he’d see in her face again.

He could feel that smile touch places inside him that he’d forgotten existed but there was a poignancy in the sensation that made it almost physically painful. The pain was welcome in a way. It spurred him on as he led the way down the gully. Pushing on and ignoring the edges of exhaustion and the real physical pain in his ankle that was getting steadily worse. Thinking about Becca and that smile was an excellent distraction.

A window back in time. To a place where life had been as good as it got. The future had promised everything and more because, for the first time in his life, Jet had felt secure in a family unit.

And Becca had been a big part of that unit. A bright, feisty kid who was becoming an extraordinarily beautiful woman who thought he was the second most wonderful person on earth.

Man, he’d loved that. Right from the start, when he’d seen how lonely she was, there’d been a huge gap in her life that he’d fitted into perfectly. That very first holiday,
when Matt had taken him home to the Harding estate, the parents had been absent the whole time. Off on some conference in Egypt, apparently, that had included a cruise down the Nile and had been too good an opportunity to pass up despite the fact that it had covered the entire school holiday period.

Becca and Matt had clearly been used to being under the care of paid staff like the housekeeper, cook and groundsmen. The vast house had an equally grand setting with stables where Becca’s pony had been kept, both an indoor and outdoor swimming pool, a home theatre and full-sized pool table in the games room. There had been trail bikes for the boys to play on in the surrounding countryside that had sparked the passion for motorbikes that had been the catalyst that had brought the ‘bad boys’ together.

Paradise for a teenage boy, in fact, as well as a chance to sample all the good things in life that Jet had only envied from a distance until then but, even as a confused and probably sullen adolescent, Jet had sensed the real gift he was being given.

Friendship and family.

The sense of belonging.

Of being looked up to as someone who mattered. Someone that people really cared about.

It had never been a hardship, giving up hours that could have been spent on the bikes or perfecting a game of snooker to entertain that small girl. Being teased had been a whole new experience for Jet. Being manipulated in a very unsubtle manner because someone was so determined to spend time in his company had been a pleasure all in itself. He’d learned to tease Becca back as he’d followed Matt’s lead. They would spin the process
out until nudging the boundaries of causing an upset but they would always capitulate. And she had always known they would.

At school, the bond had been with the three other boys and Jet had always watched their backs. Prepared to fight anything or anyone that threatened what was important to them.

Away from school that bond had been between him, Matt and Becca.

Fierce loyalty and an utter contentment when they’d been together.

He wouldn’t have called it love. Maybe he wouldn’t now, even. It certainly wasn’t the soppy, warm-fuzzy stuff that most people associated with the emotion. It was more like a life force. Like … sunlight and rain. You could survive without them but when they were there, things grew and blossomed and life was an oasis instead of a barren wasteland.

The downward slope of the gully was levelling out. Soon they would start climbing again and Jet’s instincts told him they were getting much closer to their target. Whether they could reach it before dark was another matter. They’d need to stop soon and drink something. Put their masks back on, too, because he could feel a change in the air they were breathing. Soon. But not quite yet because he wasn’t ready to concentrate on the present. He needed to gather up the random shreds of memory and reaction and file them safely away.

It wasn’t as though he didn’t still have a measure of that life force in his life. He got it from Max and Rick and now there were others contributing. Ellie and Sarah and the kids. Baby Mattie and Sarah’s boy, Josh. Jet wouldn’t have admitted it in a million years but the
addition of those kids to his inner circle of people was magic. The same kind of window back in time that Becca’s smile represented. But now that he’d seen it again, he realised they were just a pale imitation of the real thing.

And that was why it was causing this peculiar pain. Because you couldn’t go back in time. You couldn’t change something as fundamental as the destruction of hero status and being sacked from the position of being the most important person to someone. As he had been by being blamed for Matt’s death.

Becca had spent more than ten years blaming him. Hating him.

Why on earth would he think that one smile might mean that had changed? It wasn’t the memory that was painful at all, was it? It was hope that her opinion of him had changed and that he could find his way back to that feeling of family. Hope that he knew would get crushed if he gave it any credibility.

He didn’t even stop when the level ground was being left behind and a new and even tougher climb presented itself. It wasn’t that he was trying to punish Becca.

He was punishing himself. For hoping.

Daylight was beginning to fade but Becca barely noticed.

She was numb to everything but the need to keep putting one foot in front of the other and breathe often enough to keep the burning sensation in her chest to a minimum. Taking her sunglasses off would help but the air felt gritty now and her eyes stung. Jet had produced fresh masks for them both when they’d stopped to drink the last of the bag of treated water a while back.

For ever ago. Becca had long since given up trying to keep any track of time. Her brain was as numb as her body but she kept going because if she didn’t, Jet would pick her up and carry her and he had to be already hurting as much as she was. He was definitely limping and she’d seen the way he’d frozen for a moment to shut his eyes and deal with pain when he’d taken too much weight on that foot climbing over a rock not so long ago.

She’d have to see if she could help by strapping it up or something when they finally stopped.

If
they ever stopped. Surely they were close to the top of this ridge by now. They might see the settlement building then and it would be stupid to waste hours waiting for daylight if they were within visual range of the people who needed them. The need wasn’t one-sided, either. She and Jet badly needed the closest thing to civilisation on this island. They needed water and food and rest.