The Island

***

Somewhere over the Pacific. 32,000 feet and falling.

***

Nothing can prepare you for the terror of knowing you're about to die, of being certain there's nothing you can do about it. You can watch all the movies you want, play all the games you want, there's just no way you can know what it actually feels like when your plane is about to crash until it's happening to you.

Somewhere in his mind then, Kenny Philips managed to note that it didn't feel at all like he expected as the small but luxurious private jet, the first he'd ever been on, hurtled more or less uncontrolled towards its watery end. Elsewhere, in that part of the mind that people go to when death is near, he thought of his twin sister Kate. Thought of how much he loved her. How much he wished the last year might have been different. Hoped that, somewhere behind him, she was strapped into a seat the same as he was. Maybe she'd have a chance.

It was an odd feeling but, with no way of knowing how long their surely lethal downward lunge would last, the longer their creaking, screaming fall went on, the more Kenny found he wanted it to end, even though he knew it would be his end as well. It was just too terrifying to live through. He thought of all the ways he'd heard and seen and read about that were used as methods of torture and couldn't imagine any of them feeling this bad. He wanted it to be over. Hoped it would be quick. But maybe Kate would have a chance.

By the time he realized that, from where he sat towards the forward end of the cabin, he could just see in through the open cockpit door, the Pacific already loomed far too large through the window. He could just about make out, although he couldn't possibly understand, the frantic babble going back and forth between the pilots but it seemed obvious to him that they were fighting it, trying desperately to save the plane, save themselves. To his admittedly untrained eyes and ears, it neither looked nor sounded like it was a fight they were going to win.

As the ocean came to fill the window, he screwed his eyes tightly closed and tried to prepare himself for death. He wasn't surprised to find that the image that filled his mind was not the awful imaginings of what the final impact would be like, the terrible violence it would do to his body. It was Kate. The sweet, smiling face of his sister. The way she had been, before.

"I love you Katie!" he screamed, but there was no time for a reply. The moment the final syllable of her name had escaped his lips was the same moment they made contact, terrible, violent, catastrophic contact with the Pacific.

***

Northern California. A Year Ago.

***

"I'm putting on some laundry, you got anything you want to throw in? Kenny?"

Kenny, his long body stretched out on the couch, made some more or less involuntary and entirely unintelligible sounds as he woke.

"Hmm.... wha...?"

"Laundry. You got anything?" Kate repeated. As Kenny's eyes adjusted to wakefulness, he noted the wry smile on his sister's face.

"Laundry? Why'd you wake me for laundry Katie, shit."

"Because it's the middle of the afternoon Ken. I don't want you to be up half the night."

He leaned up on an elbow and rubbed his eyes as Kate's wry smile turned to a sympathetic one and she sat down on the edge of the couch.

"You can't go on like this Kenny," she said, her hand almost absent mindedly moving to softly rub the bottom of her brother's right leg.

"It's OK... it won't forever Katie. And I'm OK. Really."

The well of Kate's affection for her twin brother had always been deep. Their father had left them when they were barely walking and their mother, despite support from friends and extended family, had struggled ever since, had never really recovered from being left. For reasons they'd never been able to get to the bottom of, both siblings understood that their mother somehow blamed them for the sudden departure of their father. And while she was never callous or cruel, she was certainly cold. A perfunctory parent at best. So for much of their lives, they'd relied on each other for the kind of love and care and support that parents usually provide.

As soon as they turned 18, having planned it for years, they moved out of their mother's house. Their small but cozy apartment had been home for a little over a year.

Kate was enrolled in a Biology program at the local community college, which had links with the State University and they were hopeful of a scholarship in a year or two, with some luck and if her grades were good enough. To help make that happen, Kenny was working two jobs to support them so Kate could focus full time on college.

Of course, this sacrifice alone wasn't the reason Kate loved her brother so much. It wasn't just that he was putting himself through the ringer for her, there was also the fact that he never let her see it bother him and, more than that, that she honestly didn't think it did bother him. Sure, he fell asleep a lot, but he was never anything but positive and encouraging. Despite all the challenges they'd had to face, still had to face every day, he was never dour or sullen, never angry or mean, never made her feel bad about herself for what she was doing.

"By the way," he said, the memory returning as his mind continued it's journey toward alertness, "I ran into Sarah today on the way home."

"Oh yeah?" Kate knew where he was going and tried to steel herself.

"I think you should give her a call and tell her you changed your mind."

"Ken...I... I can't. I'm not going out partying, spending money we don't have, when you're here barely able to keep your eyes open between shifts of your two fucking jobs. Jesus. What kind of sister would I be Kenny?"

As she expected, Kenny just smiled as he lifted his legs over her to plant them on the ground.

"That's sweet of you sis, but we've had this conversation before. I want you to have a real life Kate. Go out with your friends, enjoy yourself. You're nineteen for god's sake."

"But it's not fair Kenny. We're the same fucking age. How do you think I could just go out like that, with money that you earned and... and know you were here alone or... or working. Jesus Kenny."

She almost felt angry with him. Almost. But when she saw Kenny's smile widen, heard him sigh and move to sit closer to her, take her hand in his and hold it tightly, she knew he'd win the argument. Like he always did.

"Kate, think about it like this. I want you to go. Look at me. Do you think I'm just saying that? You know I want you to go. You know it'll make me happy. Besides, I go out for beers with the guys all the time."

"Come on Kenny," Kate scoffed, "when was the last time you went out for beers with the guys?"

"Like a couple of weeks ago. Anyway that's not the point. The point is Kate, when I do go for beers with the guys, I don't feel guilty about it. I know you're happy that I'm with my friends, that I'm having fun. And it's the same for me. Please Kate. I know I'm working a lot of hours but... I mean... what's the point of it if we can't have a little fun sometimes?"

"Jesus Kenny... really?"

"Really. Please Katie."

"Fuck. OK... I'll... I'll call Sarah."

"Great. But you have to do me one more favor."

"What?"

"Promise?"

"Kenny! What? For fuck's sake."

"Promise me you'll have fun."

"Ken-"

"I don't want to hear it Kate. No moping, no feeling guilty, and absolutely no coming home early. A night out is a night out, right?"

"I'll see what I can do."

"Promise?"

"I promise," Kate said finally, her defenses well and truly conquered, unable to resist her brother's wide, generous smile, now reflected back to him on her own face.

"Thank you."

"Shit. What the fuck am I gonna wear?"

"Funny you should mention that actually."

Kenny got up from the couch, an eager smirk on his face, and collected a paper bag by the door. Kate wondered how she'd missed seeing it.

"You remember last week we were downtown? You were waiting on the street while I went into the post office? Anyway, when I came back out, your eyes were glued to the window of some store..."

From the bag, he pulled a hanger from which hung a red dress that she recognized instantly. And she remembered the moment he was describing too, remembered trying not to think about how good she'd look in that dress while she stared at it because she couldn't bring herself to spend money on it.

"Oh my god... you didn't..."

"Well, you know what it is? After I ran into Sarah today I, prescient and wise older brother that I am..."

"By five fucking minutes Ken."

"Lot of prescience and wisdom in those five minutes. Anyway, I anticipated your 'oh, no, what will I wear' conundrum and it occurred to me that I couldn't remember the last time you bought yourself something nice. And then I remembered this dress you'd been starting at and... voilà."

Kate stood up slowly, her eyes unable to avoid their focus on the dress, her mind unable to avoid picturing herself in it.

"Kenny... oh my god. I can't believe you bought this. I can't believe you remembered that... jesus I... I didn't even realize you'd noticed what I was looking at..." She could feel tears in her eyes as they moved from the dress to her brother's beaming smile.

"Aw... Katie, don't..." he started to say but she cut him off by making short work of the distance between them, throwing her arms around his neck and embracing him tightly.

"I love you so much Kenny."

"I love you too sis."

Kenny felt his heart swelling with the tightness of his sister's grip on him and his smile widened. He'd never found anything that compared with the feeling of making Kate happy. It might not even be going too far wrong to say that he lived for that feeling.

"Now, go, you have a call to make and you gotta get ready," he said when she'd finally released him, holding the dress for her to take. "I'll fix us something to eat before you go."

"OK... thanks..." Kate said, wiping the tears from her joyful face. Moments of joy were a rare enough experience for her but she was still able to recognize this as one of them, standing there, smiling stupidly, feeling both excited at the prospect of a night out with her friends and an irrepressible happiness that Kenny was a part of her life.

"Kenny..." she called after him as he made his way to the kitchen, not really knowing how she was going to verbalize what she felt, but knowing that she wanted to, to tell him somehow how much he meant to her, how happy she was that, no matter how hard or complicated or unusual their situation was, that they were in it together.

But he just looked back at her and smiled and she knew, in that smile, and as was so often the case, that there was no need to say anything. That he knew already.

"Go!" he said.

So Kenny rustled in the kitchen while Kate got ready. He took his time but he knew she'd be a while, although he hadn't counted on the nearly two hours it was before he saw her again.

In her room, finally happy with everything, with her hair, her make-up, with how the dress hung on her slender frame just the way she wanted, Kate paused to take herself in as she looked in the mirror. She couldn't help grinning. She couldn't remember the last time looking in the mirror like this had actually made her feel good about herself and that flush of affection for Kenny and his thoughtfulness struck her again. Somehow, he'd known her size perfectly and the roughly knee-length dress seemed to hug her body in exactly the way she'd imagined it would when she'd seen it in the store window, the square neck giving just the right amount of exposure to the tops of her firm, round breasts.

"So... whaddya think?" she said a little nervously as she came back into the living area finally.

Kenny had his back to her, putting a forkful of pasta into his mouth and he turned when he heard her, his fork instantly clattering to the floor. Some of the pasta went down the wrong way and he coughed hard a couple of times.

It wasn't that he didn't know his sister was a beautiful woman but, until that moment, he'd known it in the kind of way brothers are able to acknowledge that their sisters are beautiful women.

In that moment, for the first time in his life, he saw her as other men saw her. And it didn't feel good. Every time a word entered his mind to describe how she looked it felt instantly inappropriate, at best. The comparisons with famous women his mind was automatically making were with women who were obviously objects of desire for him. He tried to shake it off, to tell himself it was pride he was feeling, but he couldn't deny that he was unsettled.

"What...?" Kate asked tentatively. "Is it... OK? Do I look OK?"

"Holy fuck Kate," he said at last. "OK?! Jesus... you look... I... you... you look fucking incredible..."

Kate felt herself start to blush and automatically moved to brush a strand of her long, blond hair behind her ear, that wide, uncontrollable grin returning.

"Here," she said, holding out her phone, "will you take a picture of me?"

"Sure... of course," Kenny said and, as Kate took up her best sultry pose for the picture she intended to put on Instagram, Kenny swallowed hard and became conscious that he was worried that Kate would notice him looking at her long, soft legs or her firm breasts as they peeked out from her dress.

"Thanks," Kate said, taking her phone back. "Here, come on, let's get one together," she said, moving over to her brother and putting her arm around him for a selfie.

For the first time he could consciously remember, Kenny hesitated to put his arm around his sister. He didn't know why, but he noticed it. And, somehow, she felt different. Still, it wasn't hard to smile for the picture. It wasn't just the dress that made Kate look good, he knew. She was positively beaming. It'd been quite a while since he'd seen her this happy.

"Now go on," he said, "get out of here. And remember your promise."

"I will," she said, putting on her jacket and moving back over to him, laying her hand softly on his chest. "Thank you Kenny," she said, leaning up to kiss him softly on the cheek before running her fingers lightly over the spot in case she'd left and lipstick on him.

"Get out of here, will you."

"Don't wait up."

Involuntarily, Kenny shuddered just a little as his body reacted to the warm, firm impression that his sister's body had left on him. When the door closed behind her, he closed his eyes and shook his head and tried not to think about how fucking incredible she smelled.

***

Somewhere in the Pacific. A Year Later.

***

Later, Kenny couldn't really recall the violence of the impact as a single event. It seemed to happen incredibly quickly and last forever at the same time. Somehow his seat belt managed to keep him tethered while all hell broke loose around him and he felt no pain despite his body being flung back and forward against the restraint as the catastrophic g-forces of the impact hit. Catastrophic for the plane certainly.

He felt an odd tinge of regret when he realized both that the plane was no longer in the air and that he was still alive at the same time. Nothing quick and painless for me then, he thought. But this regret quickly turned to a kind of panicked euphoria as he realized that not only was he still alive but more or less unhurt as well. And then other realizations hit as the adrenaline began to course through his body. The cockpit was gone. Most of the plane forward of him was now just a gaping, jagged hole with nothing to hold back the waters of the Pacific.

"Katie!" he screamed, fumbling to unbuckle himself. He clambered out of his seat and turned around. There wasn't much left to recognize of the cabin. Seats and tables and everything else had been dislodged and thrown around by the force of the impact and the tail was gone, the plane's aft end evidently having suffered the same fate as the forward one, with just a wide, jagged hole remaining. And he couldn't see her.

His panic grew as he finally became aware of the water, almost up to his knees and very obviously rising.

"Katie!" he screamed again, and again, desperately, trying to force his way aft, struggling through the water, heaving bits of luggage and furniture aside. His body felt slow and cumbersome and he couldn't understand why. He had to find her.

He felt a surge of energy when his eye thought it saw legs peeking our from under an upturned seat. He pulled at it, totally unconscious of its weight, and half heaved, half threw it to the side. And she was there. Evidently, another chair, freed from its moorings by the violence of the crash had landed on top of her. Her eyes were closed and he could see a trickle of blood running from a small gash on the left side of her forehead.

He never entertained the possibility that she was dead, not even for an instant. He clawed at her seat belt as he felt the water continue to rise, above his knees now. With the front and the back of the plane gone, he knew the remaining cylinder they now inhabited had surely only seconds of buoyancy left. So his movement was frantic.

He didn't bother trying to wake her, simply heaved her limp body over his shoulder and turned back the way he'd come. The door at the front of the cabin, the only one there was, was still intact. The jagged holes at either end of the cabin looked just too dangerous to use as their exit. It was his first time on a private plane so he'd listened intently to the briefing from the lone flight attendant, now presumably lost with the tail, about what to do in case of a water landing.

He lifted the door handle and felt the locking mechanism give way and was surprised at how little force he had to apply before the door started to move from the top until it finally fell down and open with a heavy splash. With Kate still over his shoulder he turned again, hoping that the life raft the flight attendant had told them about was still in the cabinet on the other side of the rapidly flooding cabin.

There was a surge of relief when he found it but it was too big and cumbersome for him to open with Kate where she was so he set her down on the seat he'd vacated as gently as his fevered state would allow and manhandled the heavy canvas sack to the door, struggling to read the auto-inflate instructions.

The familiar 'do not inflate your life jackets until you are outside the cabin' warning rang in his mind as he heaved the flaccid raft through the door, pulling hard on the red toggle as he did until he was rewarded with a loud, stunning gush of air as the raft inflated itself in seconds just on right side of the door.

He struggled to keep hold of it with one hand while he shimmied against the force of the rising water for Kate and had to make do with grabbing and pulling her as best he could towards the door and the raft just outside it, somehow managing to tumble her unconscious body into it's relative safety.

With the door open, the unrelenting waters of the Pacific now had a new means of entry and he felt it rise along his thighs. He released the raft, pushing it away from the door and spun around, casting his eyes over the wreckage of the cabin for anything that he might take with them, anything that might help them survive. He pulled recklessly at the cabinets that were closest too him, almost laughing when he found a first aid kid and a six-pack of two liter bottles of water along with a torch. He shoved the torch in his pocket and flung the first aid kit towards the open door, gripping the water under his arm as best he could.

The waters of the Pacific were above his waist when he finally pushed for the door but he felt no relief when he was at last free of the sinking cabin. The raft had drifted ten or fifteen feet away and with the bottles under his arm it was a struggle to make his way over to it. He heaved the bottles over the side and then swam back to gather the first aid kit before it sank. Just as he grabbed it, he became aware of a strange gurgling noise and he noticed that the water had finally reached the top of the cabin door but he didn't stay to watch the spectacle. He kicked himself back toward the raft, back toward Kate, tossing the first aid kit aboard before gently pulling himself in too, trying to be careful not to swamp their last hope for survival and when he turned around the only sign of the plane that remained were a few ripples on the surface of the otherwise calm ocean.