Holiday In Cambodia

Amber had been hoping that, with the culprit exposed, the tensions within the group would be forgotten, now that nobody was under suspicion. But it wasn't long before she realised how naive that was.

Mia didn't return to their beach that night, and the group settled down for the night with the same coldness that had governed the rest of their day. It seemed that simply knowing everyone was innocent wasn't enough. Not now. Bonds had been broken and trusts betrayed and Amber fell asleep thinking about how she could mend them.

Billie Joe woke up early the next morning, and blearily surveyed the sleeping bodies strewn across the sand, through the pinprick holes in the mosquito net. He looked down at Maggie, who was sleeping soundly, her arm draped across his middle, and thought of his wife. A painful twinge of guilt stirred in his stomach, but he pushed it away. Why should he feel guilty? It wasn't like he was doing anything wrong. It wasn't like they ever did anything but sleep. It was nice to sleep with someone. It was a comfort. He needed comfort right now, and so did she. And just because she happened to be an attractive girl didn't make it any more of a crime.

He slipped out of Maggie's arms and sat up, groaning as a heavy ache suddenly hammered its way into his head. He tried to swallow, but his throat felt dry and sticky. He didn't think he'd ever felt so thirsty. Crawling out from under the net, he staggered sleepily across the sand, stepping over Amber and Jack to get to Tre, and kneeling down next to his sleeping form.

He reached out to testingly touch his forehead, which felt cold and clammy. His skin was deathly white, masking the tan he had started out with, and there were dark circles under his fluttering eyelids. If Billie Joe hadn't been able to see his chest moving up and down, he would have forgiven someone for thinking he was dead.

Billie Joe sighed, rubbing his hand against his own forehead as he turned back to the beach and realised for the first time, that Mia was still missing. He didn't blame her. If he was in her shoes, he wouldn't have come back either. Everyone was still pretty incensed, and she deserved everything she got. Right then, he didn't care what happened to her, he was just glad they got their malaria pills back.

"Bill?"

Billie Joe turned his head back to Tre, offering him a weak smile.
"Hey," he said, "How you feeling?"

Tre attempted to sit up, then thought better of it.
"Not so good... how about you?"
"Not so good either... but probably better than you are."
"Is there any water left?"
"No man... we had it yesterday."
"I'm thirsty."
"So am I," Billie Joe sighed, quietly.
"I don't know how much longer I'm gonna be able to cope without water, Billie..."

Billie Joe reached out and squeezed his shoulder.
"You'll go longer than you think," he said, with more confidence than he felt, "Don't worry."
"How long have we been here?" Tre asked.
Billie Joe rested his head on his knees.
"This is day seven, dude."
"Day seven? So the boat might come today?"
"I hope so, man."

A week had been their deadline. Telling themselves that they would only be here a week is what had gotten them through up until now. If a boat didn't come, the time they had to spend on the island became indefinite, and the thought of that made Billie Joe feel sick. Time was running out now. They needed to get off the island.

On the other side of the beach, Jason was lying awake with the very same thoughts. His insides twisted in anxiety as he cast his eyes over to a sick-looking Tre, before he noticed Jack moving from the spot where he had been sleeping on the sand next to Amber and bit his lip, before going over.

"Hey... Jack," he said, nervously, kneeling down next to him on the sand.
Jack wearily rubbed his eyes.
"Alright, Jase."
"I was thinking."
"Anything in particular?"
"I was thinking about the situation... We've been here a week, right?"

Jack sighed. He had been wondering how long it would take for his week-long prediction to come under scrutiny that day, and he'd only been awake ten minutes. He was surprised he'd managed to get some peace for that long.

"Right," he said, turning to face Jason.
"Do we have some kind of plan if we don't get picked up today?"
Jack chewed his lip.
"I'm sorta out of plans now, Jase," he admitted, "Why... do you?"
"I can't cope with this any longer, man," Jason told Jack, his voice shaky, "I can't fucking do it. I'm scared. I'm... I need to get off before... "
"I know, man," Jack reassured him, "But... I can't think of any plans right now."
"Can't we like... build a raft or something?"
Jack shook his head.
"The currents around here are crazy, Jason," he told him, "You need a motor. It would take a lot of manpower to aim a raft towards Ha Tien, and look at us... we're all fucked. We'll end up floating out in the Gulf of Thailand somewhere, it'll be a disaster. Not only that, you've got your hammerheads, great whites, Portuguese men of war... Jase, there's no way we'd all make it back, if any of us at all. The only time I'd consider trying would be if... "
Jason looked down, feeling sick.
"... If you knew we wouldn't make it here, either," he finished, quietly.
Jack nodded.
"I'm sorry, man," he said, "I don't know what else to say, I just... don't wanna lie to you."

Maggie felt a twinge of disappointment when she woke up to the empty space beside her, but she guiltily shook it from her mind as she pulled the mosquito net over her head, allowing the pleasant rarity of the cool breeze to run through her hair.

She looked up the beach to where a worried-looking Billie Joe sat watching a sleeping Tre and she bit her lip. Then she turned her head the other way to see Mike lying on the sand, his head resting on his hands, looking terrible. She wished they'd just make friends again. Life on the island was tough enough without a twenty-three year friendship being on the rocks as well.

Mike looked up as Maggie shuffled over to him, her face full of concern.
"Are you okay, hon?" she asked.
Mike frowned.
"Isn't this like... consorting with the enemy?"
Maggie sighed.
"You aren't the enemy, Mike," she said, wearily, "Why would you be the enemy to me? I'm not in some team with Billie Joe, playing against you."
"My mistake."
"Mike... "

Mike sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.
"I'm sorry," he surrendered, his voice hoarse, "I just feel like shit."
"Are you sick?"
"I'm sick of this," he said, and for a moment Maggie thought she saw the tears in his eyes, before he quickly blinked them away.
"I feel like shit," he continued, "I'm hungry... I'm thirsty... And I don't think I have the energy to even make it as far as the water today."
"I feel shit too," Maggie whispered, reaching over and taking his hand. He squeezed it, gratefully, biting his lip in an attempt to hold back his emotion, and Maggie noticed.
"I'm going to go see if I can help Amber and Jack with anything," she said, quietly, "Will you be okay?"
Mike nodded.
"Thanks," he said, and Maggie smiled, before standing up and leaving him on the sand.

Mike felt a warm tear edge its way down his dirty cheek as he watched her leave, and he brushed it away. Tears were something he couldn't afford to lose.

Nobody had the energy to make the trip to the plantation that day, but it was that or starve, and Billie Joe couldn't stand the tension on the beach a moment longer. Between the state Tre was in and the looks he was getting from Mike, he didn't know which was unsettling him more.

"I'm going to go and get us some rice, okay?" he told Amber, picking up the bag that was next to her on the sand and slinging it over his shoulder.
"That would be awesome," Amber sighed, "But you aren't going on your own. It's dangerous, the way everyone is right now. You have to take someone with you to watch your back."

Billie Joe nodded, casting his eyes over the group that was spread out on the beach and trying to gage who had the energy to make it as far as the plantation. Jack and Rick had already gone fishing, and he didn't even want to bother asking Jason or Mike to accompany him.

He sighed, wiping the sweat from his aching head as he turned to where Lara and Maggie were sitting in the shade of a palm tree.
"You going somewhere?" Lara called.
"Yeah... " he muttered, ambling over, with his hands in his pockets, "Someone needs to go to the plantation... I volunteered... either of you guys joining me?"

Lara groaned, resting her head in her hands. She didn't think she could muster up the energy to actually stand up, let alone walk all the way to the plantation. Billie Joe smirked, glancing up from Lara to Maggie.
"Look's like you're up," he stated, and Maggie smiled, letting out a tired sigh.
"Okay... " she groaned, as he pulled her to her feet, "With any luck, this'll be the last trip we need to make anyway... "
Billie Joe nodded, nervously.
"Let's hope so... " he muttered.

"So where do you think she went?"

Billie Joe shrugged, as Maggie followed him along the pathway that had been trampled into the jungle, as a result of their week-long inhabitance of the island.
"There are plenty of places she could hide."
"But... how will she get by on her own, I mean... she has nothing and..."
Billie Joe turned to look at Maggie over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised.
"Are you worrying about Mia?"

Maggie bit her lip.
"It's just... Look, I know what she did was really shitty and I'm not excusing it... but the thought of being alone on this island is fucking awful, Billie. It's bad enough with you guys here."
"Yeah," said Billie Joe, slowly, "But she brought it on herself. I'm not gonna feel sorry for her, and I don't want you to either."
Maggie considered his words for a moment before she continued.
"I just can't help thinking, we're all under a lot of pressure right now. I mean, we're being pushed to our limits physically, emotionally... maybe she was just pushed too far."
"Exactly," Billie Joe replied, "And did anyone else sink that low?"
Maggie sighed.
"No," she agreed.
"And being on her own can't be any worse than being in the group. I mean... let's be honest. We aren't exactly pulling together, right?"
She nodded.
"You're right. I'm just being stupid."
Billie Joe shrugged.
"I don't think that. I just think you're more forgiving than I am. Hell, I don't know, maybe I'm not forgiving enough. I just... I took a lot of shit from people in the past and I ran out of patience."
"Yeah," Maggie sighed, "Me too. But I guess I just like to think that, underneath it all, no one's really all that bad."
"Well... I guess that's kind of cool," said Billie Joe, with a small smile, "And I hope you're right. Just don't let anyone take advantage of it cause you really don't deserve it."

Maggie smiled, feeling warm as she momentarily lost her concentration. She didn't notice the wiry tree root that had caught on her foot until she was already falling forwards and she cried out, swearing loudly as a startled Billie Joe turned around, managing to catch her in his arms just before she hit the ground.

"Woah..." he said, laughing a little, "... You alright there?"
"Uh... yeah..." Maggie breathed, her heart thumping as the adrenaline rush subsided and she looked up.

Billie Joe smiled as his green eyes met hers, holding her gaze for a few moments before she blushed and they both looked away quickly.
"I... um... thanks..." Maggie stammered, nervously, as she steadied herself on her feet once again.
Billie Joe hurriedly took his arms away from her.
"That's cool," he said, awkwardly, "...uh... we should get a move on..."
Maggie dropped her eyes back to the ground, nodding fervently, as he turned back around.
"Yeah," she said, "Yeah, we should."

Back at the beach, the group's morale seemed seemed to be lowering more and more by the hour. Tre seemed to be spending more time unconscious than he was conscious, and Amber was getting increasingly worried not only about him, but about Mike, who hadn't moved since waking up that morning.

After finishing up fishing, Rick and Jack had moved up onto the rocks, where they spent the majority of the afternoon frantically scanning the ocean for anything that might resemble a distant boat, so far to no avail.

When Billie Joe and Maggie returned from the plantation, they collapsed on the sand in exhaustion pretty much instantly, and Amber and Lara went about preparing some food while they rested.

"Tre needs to eat something," Lara said, softly, stirring the rice over the fire, "I haven't seen him take anything for a couple of days now, it's no wonder that he's getting weaker. We have to make him eat some rice or something."
Amber nodded.
"I know," she said, glancing over in his direction. "And Mike's looking bad today too. He hardly ate a thing yesterday and he looks like shit. I think the dehydration's affecting us in different ways."
"I wish he would eat some fish," said Lara, "The protein would do him could. You think he could be persuaded? You managed with Billie and Maggie."
"I don't know," Amber replied, doubtfully, "He was pretty stubborn last night."
"Amber, if he doesn't eat... he is not going to be able to make it through this. He's scaring me. I don't want anyone else getting sick like Tre. Can't you try and talk to him?"
"Why me?"
"People listen to you. Besides, Mike and I had words the other day and it's still a little awkward."
Amber rolled her eyes.
"Who hasn't been having words?" she muttered, standing up, "I'll do my best."

Mike opened his eyes as Amber approached and he felt her shadow cover his body.
"Hey," she said, softly, kneeling down next to him and reaching out to touch his hair, "Are you holding up okay here?"
Mike let out a breath.
"My throat hurts," he whispered, shakily, "And my head..."
"I know," Amber nodded, sympathetically, "It's the dehydration."
"I've had enough."
"We all have, Mikey. But you know... you have to keep strong, cause you have to get through it a bit longer."
"I can't..."
"You can. I know you can, but you have to eat something today, okay? We have some rice, and we have some fish..."
"I can't eat fish."
"Mike... sometimes you have to do things you don't like... you have to weigh up what's important. I know you have your principles, and I respect that but... right now, it's more important that you keep yourself strong, cause I don't want anything happening to you."

Mike bit down hard on his lip and pressed his hand to his forehead. The tone of Amber's voice chilled him to the bone. He knew this was serious. He knew she was telling him that if he didn't get something to eat then his body could give up altogether. He knew that, in a few more days, that might happen anyway.

Amber leaned closer.
"You have to do this, Mikey," she said, softly, "If you don't do it for yourself, you have to think about the people at home that are waiting for you to come back. Think of Estelle... she needs you to come back. You have to do this for her."

At the mention of his daughter's name, something painful and overwhelming swelled inside his chest, and he let out a dry sob into his hand.
"I miss her so much," he choked up, "Thinking of her... not knowing where I am and if I'm coming back... and not knowing if I'm gonna see her again and-"
"I know," Amber said, shakily, feeling her own emotions come to the surface at the sight of him crying. She took his hand and held it tightly, "I know, Mike, but we can do it alright? We're gonna eat what we have, get through however long we have to get through...and everyone is going to keep strong. Because it'll be a cold day in hell before I leave anyone on this island."

Amber's words must have left their mark on Mike, because later that evening, he sat by the fire with the rest of the group, and he ate everything that was offered to him. Tre put up a pretty good fight, but Jason eventually managed to persuade him to eat something as well, telling him that if he didn't he was going to get Rick to hold his mouth open while he pushed the rice down his throat with a twig.

Nobody said a word as the sun began to sink in the sky, and the familiar dusky twilight settled onto the beach. Nobody knew what could possibly be said, because everyone knew that the cold fear and gutwrenching disappointment they were each feeling was far too intense to be alleviated by words. As the sun disappeared behind the horizon and their seventh night drew in, they knew no boat would come.

"I saw my mermaid again."

Rick managed a smile, pressing a wet t-shirt back against Tre's feverish forehead, which was lit by the warm glow of the fire.
"Unreal... what did she say?"
"I can't really... lotsa stuff... I don't remember..."
"That's okay, mate. I'm sure she'll come back, right."
"...Yeah, she said she... she said I was being a brave little - Hey, Mike?"
"I'm Rick, mate."
"... Sorry."
"No worries. What were you saying?"
"I was... I don't know. You think we're gonna get home?"

Rick nodded, turning the t-shirt around so that the cooler side was against his skin.
"Yep," he said, "For sure. You're gonna be okay, Tre. You'll get better. We're all gonna be okay. Things for me... they don't end on this island. I have to go back to Oz. I have lot of records to set straight... a lot of things to lay to rest. And you... you have a fucking heap of people waiting for you our there, mate. And you have to get back to the states for Ramona and Frankito."
Tre closed his eyes.
"I miss them."
"I know you do."
"This island sucks."
Rick couldn't help but smile at the understatement.
"No shit," he agreed, "It's amazing how much you can hate something so beautiful, right?"
Tre nodded, letting his eyes close again, and thinking of Mia.

Rick's heart thumped hard as he watched Tre slip back to sleep. He could feel the panic rising inside him, and suddenly he felt like screaming and punching something, anything that would release his frustration and anxiety. Right then, he could have sworn he'd jump right into the ocean and start swimming, not caring if the sharks had a go or not. At that moment, ending up sharkbite seemed preferable to spending one more minute on that island.

"Jack," he whispered, hurrying over to him, on the verge of tears of frustration, "I'm going crazy, man, I'm going fucking crazy. I can't do it. I can't do this anymore, mate, I'm fucking serious. I need to go home and-"
"Woah," said Jack, with a frown, taking hold of Rick's wrists and holding him still, "Rick, man, calm down. I know how you feel, we're all desperate to get out of here now, it's okay..."
"Do something," Rick begged him, desperately, "I'll take any risks now, I'll fucking swim it if I have to. Just... please!"

The sight of Rick quite clearly losing his cool didn't do anything for Jack's nerves.
"I'm thinking, Rick, I'm thinking," he assured him, "I'm trying to work out what we do if no boat comes along in two days."
"To fucking days, Jack, look at us! Look at Tre! He isn't gonna last two more days!"
"Rick... I just need some time to work through this in my head, okay? This is stressful for me too!"
Rick brought his hands, shaking, to his face.
"I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I know, I-"
"Rick," Jack groaned, reaching over and pulling him into a hug, "You have to stay sane for me... alright, kid? That's the best thing you can do for me now."

Rick wasn't the only one who reached his wit's end that night. When their hope of a rescue was lost, Jason felt the resove that had gotten him this far begin to crumble. Now that a whole week had gone by, there was no knowing how long they would be stuck here and as he walked down the beach towards the shore, he wondered what it would feel like to die of dehydration.

He felt hot tears of fear and frustration sting his eyes as he sat down on the sand, cutting himself up with thoughts of how different everything could have been if Tre had arrived at the airport in San Francisco just ten minutes earlier, or if Billie Joe had been able to get the payphone to work on his first try, or if they'd spent that night in Phnom Penh sleeping off their jetlag.

With his face buried in his arms, he didn't even notice anyone approaching, and the sudden presence on the sand next to him startled him, not nearly as much as it did when he lifted his head to see who it was.

He stared at Lara for what felt like forever, his heart rate climbing along with his confusion. What the hell was she doing? Coming all the way across the beach to sit down next to him? She had never even acknowledged that he existed before.

Lara's heart was beating just as fast, and it was thumping in her chest so loud she could have sworn he'd be able to hear it. She dragged her eyes away from his, feeling a painful ache in her chest when she saw the tear tracks on his cheeks, and chewed her lip, looking straight out at the dark water. She knew now was the time to say something, but it was difficult to know what to say. The fact that she had never uttered a single word in his direction made her feel like whatever she said, it had to be particularly profound, because she didn't even deserve for him to be listening to her anyway.

Jason simply watched her, his eyes searching her face for any clue of why she was here, all of a sudden, and what she was planning to do. He said nothing as she brought her hand down to the wet sand in front of them, and squinted a little in the darkness as he watched her forefinger drag a wavy line through the white powder. He held his breath as the lines formed letters, his eyes flicking from her hand to her nervous face and back again, until she took her hand away and wrapped her arms around herself, resting her chin on her knee as they both stared at the word that was written on the sand in front of them.

Sorry

Jason turned to look at her, suddenly remembering to start breathing again, but her eyes were still looking down at the sand.
"Why?" he whispered, his voice catching a little in his throat, "Why did you... why don't you like me?"
Lara closed her eyes for a moment, tangling her fingers in her matted hair and biting down hard on her lip to stop it shaking. She swallowed down the lump in her throat before she replied.
"It was never that."

Jason looked at her with intrigue, partly because he was confused by her words, and partly because of the novelty of them being directed at him. He looked back down at the word in the sand, and she continued.
"It was never that," she continued, "It wasn't that I didn't like you as much as the others. That was never the problem. It was that I liked you so much more."

Jason stopped breathing again, and his eyes widened. That was definitely not the explanation he had been expecting. He tried to speak, tried to question her, but he found that his voice had got lost completely, and before he had managed to form words, she was speaking again.

"You know you make that band," Lara whispered, her mouth twisting into a small smile.
Jason stared at her.
"I don't know if people realise that... but I do. I don't know if people notice what an incredible guitarist you are. Better than Billie... I can't tell. But there's something about the way you play as if it's nothing, as if what you're doing doesn't matter... as if you know that they could carry on without you... when really they would fall apart."
Jason swallowed.
"I would... the others... they're awesome..."
"I know," Lara nodded, her eyes still cast downwards, not trusting herself to remain in control if she raised them to his, "They are awesome. But they're no more awesome than you are. And I don't think you realise that. And that's what makes you different."
Lara bit her lip, picking up a handful of sand and letting it rain down through her fingers.
"You don't get enough credit," she said, quietly, "You do all the most complicated guitar stuff on stage... it's amazing... and your voice is awesome... "
Jason felt himself blushing.
"Thanks."
"I went to see the Influents four times," she whispered.

Jason's mouth fell open a little, trying to let her words settle in his mind. He could feel a sense of tingling warmth starting in his toes, and slowly working its way up through his body.
"You did?"
Lara nodded, glancing up to quickly meet his eyes for the first time.
"You guys were incredible," she smiled, shyly, before dropping her eyes back down. "... So you see... when I met Billie Joe in that riverside bar in Phnom Penh... it was kind of exciting, what with he and Mike and Tre being so famous and all... but that didn't even compare to how fucking star struck I felt when I saw you sitting there."

The warmth was getting more intense now, and Jason let in a breath, leaning a little closer to Lara, his eyes widening in amazement. Nobody had ever told him he'd had them star struck before. Suddenly, Lara let out a quiet, nervous laugh.

"I do know how stupid that sounds," she whispered, "... but that's how it was. I just... couldn't believe that you were really there... and I was too nervous to look at you, let alone actually talk to you. I was terrified you'd think I was an idiot... but obviously I know how dumb that is. Thinking I'm an idiot is preferable to thinking I'm a complete bitch."
Jason wordlessly shook his head.
"Why didn't you... Lara, I... It's been a whole week and you... I was so fucking confused, I - I thought you hated me and all the time... why didn't you just say?"

Lara let out a long sigh, her heart racing with nerves.
"I was planning on talking to you... of course I was... at first... I just wanted some time to think of what to say... but then time went on, and it became harder... and I only became more nervous around you because... as time went on, I... I mean, I only grew to like you so much more... too much more..."

To Lara's embarrassment, she felt a few pesky tears behind her eyes, and covered them with her hands.
"... And it's just killed me," he mumbled, shakily, "Yesterday when we were all fighting... and you said I always ignored you... I... It killed me that I'd been stupid enough to let you hate me..."

Jason swallowed back his emotion, reaching out and gently taking her arm away from her face, letting a tear escape down her cheek. Sliding one of his hands into hers, he leaned his head on his other and looked at her.
"Lara... I don't hate you. I never hated you... I guess I kind of resented you, but only because you confused me so much. And I resented everyone else, because... seeing how lovely you were with them... I could tell how much you were letting me miss out on."

Lara's breath was shaky as she turned her face towards his.
"I'm so sorry," she told him, tearfully, "I'm so, so sorry, Jason..."

Jason smiled a little, laying his hand against her cheek. He leaned closer, gently kissing her forehead, and making her feel as though all of her insides had crumbled into mush. Her breath caught in her throat as he pulled back slightly, and she felt his warm breath against her skin.

"I don't hate you," he whispered again, as their eyes met, "I can't remember the last time anyone made me feel as special as you did just now."

Lara felt a flutter in her stomach as he moved closer, his lips catching her by surprise when they softly pressed against hers. Suddenly, they both knew that there was nothing more to say, that this kiss said everything and anything that still needed to be said. Jason was overwhelmed with shock and emotion and part of him wanted to just sit up all night getting to know the girl he had been denied all this time, but another part of him just wanted to keep kissing her forever, because it felt so damn good, and when he moved closer and her arms wrapped around him, he almost stopped breathing from how comforting and amazing it was just to be held. As Lara's hand went to his hair and their kiss deepened, both of them were thinking the same thing: They would never have expected that anything could have made them feel happy that day.

"This is a new beginning... right?" Lara whispered against his lips, as they slowly pulled away.
"Yeah," Jason whispered, with a small smile, "A new beginning."