The vibration of the helicopter had been a steady, hypnotic hum against Ren's skull, a far cry from the crashing waves and rustling palms of the island.
Between the physical exhaustion of the night and the heavy breeze from the helicopter, Ren hadn't even realized his eyelids were dropping.
He had fallen into a deep, dreamless pit of sleep, his body finally surrendering to the trauma of the last four days.
As the helicopter tilted for its final approach toward the Vane private hangar, the change in altitude caused a soft pressure in the cabin. Ren felt a gentle, persistent shaking on his shoulder and a low vibration against his ear.
"Ren. Wake up, wifey. We're here."
Ren's eyes fluttered open, blinking rapidly against the harsh, artificial light of the cabin. His vision was blurry, and for a second, he didn't know where he was.
He soon came to know he was resting his head, but on what?
