Anomaly; Stranded The Series (bxb)

Chapter 17: Return Home

The coastline blurred in the distance as the emergency rescue boat sped toward the mainland. The rhythmic thrum of the engine filled the heavy silence between Eli and Jonah, both lost in their thoughts as they sat side by side, their hands barely touching but still connected. The ride felt too fast and too slow at the same time—too fast because they weren't ready to face what was waiting for them, too slow because part of them just wanted it to be over.

The past few hours had been a whirlwind. After landing on the beach, they'd collapsed in exhaustion, too drained to do anything but breathe. They didn't have time to even think about what came next—until they saw the lights. In the early morning hours, a patrol boat had spotted them. The rush of relief they'd felt when help finally arrived was fleeting, quickly replaced by the realization that they were about to be thrust back into the real world.

And neither of them was ready.

The coast guard had been the first to find them, hauling them aboard and asking too many questions too fast—Where did you come from? What happened to you? Are you hurt?—questions that Eli and Jonah hadn't been able to fully answer because they didn't even know where to start. What could they say?

Now, as they neared the shore, the questions hung even heavier between them.

"We're almost home," Jonah said quietly, his voice barely cutting through the hum of the engine.

Eli glanced at him, his heart twisting at the sight of Jonah's tired, pale face. The makeshift bandages wrapped around Jonah's side were still stained with blood, but the paramedics had reassured them that Jonah would be fine. Physically, at least.

"Yeah," Eli muttered, though the word felt foreign on his tongue. Home. What did that even mean anymore? The island had been their entire world for so long—home was supposed to be a safe haven, but now it felt like a stranger waiting on the shore.

Jonah shifted beside him, his fingers brushing against Eli's. It was a subtle touch, but the weight of it sent a tremor through Eli's chest. "You good?" Jonah asked, his voice careful, like he wasn't sure if Eli would break under the question.

Eli swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I don't know. I'm not sure how to do this."

Jonah didn't say anything for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he leaned back, his head resting against the cool metal railing of the boat. "Me neither."

That was the truth of it. Neither of them knew how to go back.

The dock was a blur of chaos when they arrived. Reporters. Flashing cameras. Paramedics. Police. All of it swirled around Eli and Jonah in a whirlwind of noise and lights that felt suffocating after the quiet isolation of the island. Eli's head throbbed with the pressure of it all, his heart racing as he was bombarded with questions, demands, people shouting their names.

"Eli! Eli, over here!"

"What happened out there?"

"Jonah, how do you feel? How long were you stranded?"

It was too much. Eli could barely breathe as the crush of bodies surrounded him. The flashing cameras felt like they were searing into his brain, each question a dagger he couldn't deflect. He caught a glimpse of Jonah a few feet away, wincing as a reporter shoved a mic too close to his face, his body stiff with tension.

Eli's stomach twisted with guilt and fear. How were they supposed to survive this? They'd made it through the island, through the storm, through the danger—but this felt different. This was a different kind of survival.