Two men conversed in Hindi, letting me know they were Indian-Fijian descent. Their hands punctured their sentences as I skirted the perimeter, scanning the rudimentary graphs and diagrams of flight paths and other aeronautical paraphernalia.
Our driver pointed outside to the wet night, nodding as if it was a perfect evening to fly. The other man shook his head, waggling his wristwatch in his friend’s face, scrunching his nose with disagreement.
Goddammit, he had to take us.
If it weren’t important, I’d happily stay the night in some shitty backpackers. But it was important. I had to be there. I wouldn’t fail again.
Shoving my hands into my jean pockets, I approached them. “Look, we’re happy to pay. How long is the flight? An hour or so? That means you make some good coin and get home all within a couple of hours.” Forcing a smile, I pulled the wad of cash from my back pocket (it was all I had left). “Need to know we’re good for it? We’ll pay you up-front. How about that?”
The remaining US currency was convenient. I’d pay for all of us, and they could pay me back on the flight.
The driver cleared his throat, gesturing to his friend and the money in my hand.
I smiled. “See, a good gig.”
Frowning, the other man—who I assumed would be our pilot—came closer. Ignoring the money, he held out his hand waiting for me to shake. Transferring the bills to my left, I clasped his right, completing social niceties.
Letting our handheld introduction break, the man said, “I’m Akin. You are?”
“Galloway.”
“Mr. Galloway, you do realise a storm is threatening Fiji. It’s not safe—”
“The pilot on the flight here said the weather pattern was leaving.”
Akin paced around me, making me feel like a naughty student listening to his professor. The guy wasn’t old, but his face was lined with stress and hardship. “That might be, but these things create wind thermals and downdraughts. The cumulus nimbus of a thunderstorm can be deadly with turbulent air.”
My heart fisted at the thought of having this last chance stolen. I wasn’t an idiot. If a professional said it was risky...then what did I value more? My life or a job?
But I valued this second chance almost as much. It wasn’t just a job. It was the opportunity to find happiness again.
My fingers clutched the money. Words filled my mouth to argue, but I wouldn’t fight. I’d done my best. If it was too dangerous, then...fine. Yet another dream dashed. I’d have to change my flight to fly back to England tomorrow rather than in three months’ time. I’d have to admit to my father that I lied to him. I’d have to accept that I wasn’t worthy of what I wished for.
Goddammit.
Our driver struck up conversation in Hindi again. I left them to it. I’d tried and failed.
Heading down the corridor, my eyes met Estelle’s. The green and brown of swirling hazel warmed first with anticipation and then cooled with disappointment. She understood just by looking at me that we wouldn’t be going anywhere—not tonight. I hoped she had better things to go back to than I did.
Duncan moved away from his wife and kids. “What’s the update? When do we leave?”
I gripped the back of my neck, squeezing at the sudden headache building at the base of my spine. “We don’t—”
“How many people?” Akin interrupted me, shooting me a look as he appeared in entrance to the corridor.
“Huh?”
Estelle answered for me. “Six, plus luggage.”
Akin crossed his arms. “No. I have an R44 and maximum capacity is four people.” He scowled at the children. “I’ve stripped the cabin of all unnecessary gear so I can transport more supplies for work. It’s possible to squeeze in the kids but luggage can’t go.”
Amelia came forward. “But we need our bags. How are we supposed—”
“I’ll bring them over tomorrow when I fly my regular route to bring produce to outlying hotels.” Akin cocked his chin. “Those are my terms. Fly now and have a night with limited supplies or leave tomorrow with your belongings on a bigger service.”
My heart leapt. I didn’t care. I had most of my toiletries in my messenger bag and nothing of value in my luggage. “If we can take bare necessities, I’m in.”
Estelle cleared her throat, hugging her jacket.
Why the hell was she still holding that thing? She must be sweltering beneath the puffy weight—even if she wasn’t wearing it.
Glancing at her overstuffed suitcase, she sighed. “If I can bring my handbag, I’m okay with that, too. As long as my valuables like my laptop are safe to leave here overnight?”
“Very safe.” Akin nodded. “I’ll take great care of your belongings until I bring them to you.” Fixing his gaze on the Evermore family, he asked, “What’s it to be? I’ll agree to take you to Kadavu with my helicopter. But we leave now and you follow my every instruction.”
My eyes drifted to our shuttle driver. He stood behind Akin, leaning against the wall. What did he say to him to change his mind? Akin had been rather adamant about not flying in the storm.
“And you’re sure it’s safe?” I muttered. “After your unwillingness before?”
Akin glared in my direction. “Yes, I checked the weather and you’re right. The storm is heading away. I’m comfortable enough to do a quick flight.” His eyes flashed. “Believe me, if I didn’t think it was safe, I wouldn’t go. After all, it’s not just your lives on the line, is it?”