“Could something toxic in the time capsule have caused this?”
“I guess we just have to find it first.”
He nodded and dug his shovel, pressing his foot onto it to get deeper into the ground. And he hit something. “Hey. I got it.”
Emma widened her eyes.
Slowly, carefully, he angled the shovel fully under the edge of what he’d hit and with all his strength removed the dirt, uncovering the edge of a wooden box. For several minutes, they worked in silent tandem until they uncovered the entire box. He insisted on pulling it out of the ground with the shovel, to be sure it wasn’t contaminated. But when he did, he saw nothing to indicate why the ground here was dead.
The small pine box was about ten inches wide and five inches deep. The exterior was discolored from water and dirt. But nothing glowed or oozed. Whatever happened to the ground above was years after the fact of burial and not related.
“Should we wait for Margaux to open it?” Emma asked at his side, so close her breath tickled his neck.
He wanted to say no. But he had no rights to the time capsule and whatever secrets it contained. Not without a warrant and jurisdiction.
“Sure. Good point.” He knelt on the ground, unzipping his pack and stuffing the box inside, covering it with the sweatshirt and journal. He still hadn’t shared those details with her either. But until he knew Margaux’s motives and location, he’d want more privacy before he felt comfortable doing that. “Let’s get going. We can catch her so she doesn’t have to walk all the way back.”
A shriek echoed in the air followed by the flapping of wings, like birds escaping a predator.
Fifteen
Emma jumped, dropping her shovel and launching herself into Daniel's arms. Her heart pounded against the front of her chest. She felt like she was going to explode. She hated the constant on-edge feeling she'd been dealing with all weekend.
Although maybe that wasn't fair. Maybe she'd been feeling this way, trapped forever in a fight or flight mode, since her sister disappeared and was found dead. Her mind sought relief with suppression. She never had to deal with working through the details. Until now as an even more painful moment caught up with her.
“Are you okay?” Daniel asked. He slowly extricated himself from her grip.
Only after he pulled away did she realize her nails had dug into his shirt like claws. Heat swept up her, she bent and grabbed her shovel. “Yeah, sorry,” she said. “Any sound makes me jump lately. Was that a cry?”
“I heard it too but it sounded like an animal.”
“Sure. Definitely. Yeah, you’re probably right.” She shivered, glad to lean on the shovel. Her mind had immediately framed the cry as human. Paranoia threatened her more than the elements. She had to get a grip on herself mentally and physically. “Shouldn’t Margaux be back? How long has she been gone?”
“I don’t think that was her.”
“I don't know why my mind went to Margaux being in trouble.”
“Because she might be, but I don’t think it had anything to do with the sound,” he offered. “I heard the cry, too. Let's take our time and go down this hill safely. Slowly. We will help no one if we tumble and injury ourselves.”
“Shouldn’t we move faster?”
He shook his head. “It’ll be okay.”
She wanted to push and ask him why it was okay. She nibbled the inside of her cheek. As far as she knew, it was only the two of them and Margaux on this island. Did he have backup? She’d learned to value the unspoken as much as what was said. With each passing second, her uncertainty increased exponentially. She was afraid to ask, worried his answer would be no.
And she didn't want to be out here all alone with Margaux. Emma trusted Daniel. She’d never felt safer with another person than she did with him. But Margaux’s increasingly erratic behavior set Emma’s teeth on edge.
Each carrying a shovel and under the weight of their packs, his carrying the time capsule, they slowly made their way back through the tree line. She manipulated her grip and used the shovel as a walking stick.
“Do you ever think what you would have done if your sister had been one of the teens you were helping?” he asked so softly she almost thought she imagined the question.
She was glad he led the way and couldn't see her smile behind him. It was part soft, part sad, part nostalgic. But all of it was grateful.
Because in spite of everything that had happened, they had come back together and found each other once again.
And part of her heart would always be glad for that. For the chance to say goodbye. She hated farewells and the finality implied in the act. She yearned for closure so she could go on to the next part of her life, serving others and seeking forgiveness.
“I do.” She sighed. “I'm not sure how much I could have done if she wouldn't have been honest with me. And that's the part that I keep coming back to.”
