by Perrin Briar
“Breakfast,” he said.
The sun was high in the sky and blisteringly hot. There was little breeze to wick away their sweat, and so they went back to sit in the shade of the trees, away from the beach.
The berries were delicious, and though Bryan didn’t like to think about what effect they would have on his digestive system later, he couldn’t help but stuff them in his face. The kids gradually woke up as they filled their bellies.
“Is there any water?” Cassie said. “I’m really thirsty.”
“I haven’t found any,” Zoe said. “But there are a couple of coconut trees. There will be juice in them.”
They finished their meal and wrapped what remained in a small leaf package. They began to climb a hill that rose at a steady angle. The deeper they went into the wilderness the more wildlife they saw. Bryan’s heart lifted at the possibilities.
They could survive here, he was certain of it. He had read Robinson Crusoe and remembered the farming techniques to survive long term. There was no reason they couldn’t do the same. But it was a worst case scenario. Ideally they’d find a way to get back home.
The hill incline steepened, and soon the family was sweating. It wasn’t a large hill, but the family was tired and weak with their recent exertions. They took a break at the edge of the woods, where they would no longer be protected by the trees’ sheltering canopy.
They took a seat, and to Bryan’s surprise and good fortune, came across a coconut on the ground that had recently come loose from its nest. He picked it up and looked about for a sharp implement to smash it open with, but without spilling the juice.
He found a handful of likely candidates. He proceeded to sort through them, choosing the best one and tossing the rest aside. The one he selected was five inches long and shaped like a dart. It was sharp at one end. Bryan gripped it in his fist and checked to make sure none of the edges would slice his skin open upon each strike.
He placed the coconut in a slight dip in a rock, drew his hand up high above his head, and brought the shard down. It made a satisfying Thunk! noise. Within three strikes he was already dripping with sweat. He hacked at the coconut, the white interior flakes coming loose until a hole was formed.
Bryan picked up the coconut in both hands and turned it upside down. The juice dribbled from the small hole in its rent shell, down Bryan’s chin. He placed his lips over the hole, the rough fibers of the coconut’s outer shell poking at the soft flesh of his lips.
The sweet juice ran over his tongue and down his throat. He didn’t even like the taste of coconut, but the juice quenched his thirst. He stopped, gasping for oxygen. He wiped an arm across his lips and handed the coconut to Cassie, who pulled on it with relish.
Bryan picked up another coconut and began hacking at it as he had the first. He had to take another long pull to replace the sweat he’d expended to get the coconut open in the first place. He handed it to Aaron. Zoe drank what remained.
“Is it enough?” Bryan said. “Do you want more?”
Zoe shook her head and shut her eyes. She looked exhausted. They all did.
“We should wait till it’s less hot before going up the hill,” Bryan said.
“Then the fog will come in and we won’t be able to see far,” Zoe said.
“You think the fog will return tonight?” Bryan said.
He’d assumed it’d been a rare occurrence.
“Yes,” Zoe said. “I think there’s something about our location that produces the fog. But we’ll see tonight.”
No one wanted to talk about what they’d heard the previous night in the deep recesses of the sea. They left the subject unspoken.
Bryan inserted his rock knife into a now empty shell and pried at it left to right, working it loose so the shell split down the middle. He picked it up and smashed it on the rock. The coconut broke into a dozen pieces. Zoe and Aaron picked the pieces up and placed them in a broad leaf.
They repeated the process with the second coconut, keeping one shard for each of them to work at with their teeth as they left the safety of the sheltered area and began to ascend the hill.
They were dripping with sweat by the time they got to the hilltop. Here at least, there was a slight breeze. It was warm, but nonetheless pleasant. They cupped their hands over their eyes and peered into the distance, where the azure of the ocean met the sapphire blue of the sky, a band of hazy white sandwiched between them, the horizon.
To their north was another island, its land as black as charcoal. A tall mountain jutted from its center. There was but a sprinkling of dry wispy trees at its base. To their east were half a dozen large boulders, green with algae and lashed by the sea. There was nothing but blank ocean to their south and west.
“Well, that’s the end of that,” Cassie said. “We’re stuck here. Forever.”
“At least we have each other,” Zoe said.
“What are you talking about?” Aaron said. “There’s another island.”
“Yes, we can see it,” Cassie said. “But it’s not going to be much use to us. There’s even less on it than there is on this one.”
“Not that one,” Aaron said. “That one.”
He pointed in a northwesterly direction, in the distance. They all looked, but couldn’t make anything out.
“I can’t see another island,” Zoe said.
“It’s there,” Aaron said. “A dark smudge on the horizon. Can’t you see it?”
Zoe peered at the horizon again, but saw nothing. She frowned at Aaron.
“There’s nothing there, Aaron,” she said. “I understand you want to see something, but there’s nothing there.”
“No, he’s right,” Bryan said. “I see it too. It’s the sun. It’s bright overhead and makes it difficult to see, but it’s there. Cup your hands over your eyes and look again.”
Zoe did, looking in the direction they suggested, but still she couldn’t make it out…
And then she did.
It seemed to pop into existence, flickering in and out, a fly in the horizon’s milky ointment.
“How far would you say it is?” Zoe said.
“The Earth’s surface curves out at about three miles,” Bryan said. “Assuming the curvature is the same here, I would say it’s about that distance away.”
“So what if there’s another island?” Cassie said. “It'll be just like this one. And we’ll be stuck here. Still.”
“But it might not be an island,” Zoe said. “It could be the finger of a larger landmass.”
“If we can get there, we might find another island, or a tribe of people,” Bryan said. “We might even find the Passage.”
Cassie smiled, hopes rising.
“We might find the way out of here,” she said. “What are we waiting for?”
3
THE FAMILY spread out, keeping within sight of one another as they passed through the woods. Aaron stumbled into stinging nettles more than once, little white bumps rising on his exposed shins, but Cassie was on hand with a dock leaf, dirt, and more saliva than necessary.
As they descended the incline back toward the beach, the family knocked on each fallen tree they came to. They listened to the sound it made, most of the time shaking their heads. But not always. They were halfway back to the beach when Cassie called out.
“I’ve got one,” she said.
That wasn’t new. They’d found several trees that emitted the hollow noise they were looking for, but upon closer inspection Bryan had decided not to go with any of them, deciding the tree was either too strong or too rotten.
They wanted a tree that sounded hollow, that had fallen some time ago, but not too long. It meant the trunk would be rotten on the inside and save them a great deal of carving work, having to hollow it out for themselves. The boat they would build did not need to last forever, only the relatively short distance to the next island.
Bryan put his ear to the bark and rapped on it, moving down the trunk. A smile spread across his face.
&
nbsp; “This looks like it,” he said. “This is just what we’re looking for.”
“Now what?” Cassie said.
“Now we drag it to the seafront,” Bryan said.
They pulled vines from the trees and lashed them around the protruding branch stumps. Wild creatures and a chaos of bugs fled their home of safety as the family tugged, pulling on the tree and making it slide along the ground. The land here was flat and there was little resistance. Cassie screamed when a bug found sanctuary on her foot.
“Why are you screaming for?” Bryan said. “They’ll be our dinner one day.”
Cassie pressed her lips together and turned pale. Bryan smiled broadly.
“Come on,” he said. “We’re almost there. On the count of three. Ready? One, two, three.”
The family pulled on ‘three,’ and the trunk slid another yard. It was hard work, and within minutes Bryan’s shirt was soaked with sweat. It clung to his impressive straining muscles. Zoe could hardly keep her eyes off him.
“One, two, three,” Bryan said again.
The family pulled again on the vines, causing it to slide another yard.
They covered the ground quickly and got to the lip of the beachfront within two hours. The sun was kissing the horizon now. The relief from the heat it provided was refreshing.
“Look at that,” Zoe said.
On the horizon, but approaching fast, was the thick pea soup fog. It trailed the sun’s dying rays of sunlight like a blanket. The moisture was pleasant on their skin, soothing, and brought a welcome shiver through them.
“I’ll find something for dinner,” Zoe said.
“A steak, if you can manage it,” Bryan said.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Zoe said.
She put a hand to Bryan’s cheek. He had dark circles around his eyes and deep creases on his brow.
“You need to rest,” she said.
“We need to get out of here,” Bryan said.
“We will,” Zoe said. “But we’re not going anywhere tonight. Not with what might be out there. We can take our time.”
Bryan nodded.
“Three miles isn’t far,” he said. “But it’s far enough that if we get swept up in a strong current, we might not make it to the island.”
“Then we’ll have to paddle harder,” Zoe said. “But we can’t stay here forever. Not for the rest of our lives, never mind the rest of the kids’ lives.”
“I’ll make a fishing rod,” Bryan said.
“What good will that do?” Zoe said.
“Just in case we end up having to stay at sea longer than expected,” Bryan said.
“Fish every day for months…” Zoe said. “Sounds fun. But maybe we can think of something else to spice up our day.”
She kissed Bryan on the lips and gave his abs a lingering look. They were clearly defined through his wet shirt.
“Go make dinner,” Bryan said.
Zoe headed into the forest. Bryan turned to the log they’d dragged across the island. He ran his hand over it. It was in good shape. It had clearly fallen some time ago and become hollow, but its outer shell kept its shape and, he was certain, would hold across the water. They needed to strengthen its hull with natural resin they could fashion using mashed vegetation and tree amber. It would plug any holes and hold the hull together. The family would paddle across to the island Aaron had identified.
Bryan sat on the beach, his muscles pained and sore, flinching like he was an old man. He took a long stretch of pliable material off his back, something he’d found while descending the slope, and began to peel it into the shape he desired.
“What are you hoping to do with that?” Cassie said. “Hoping to catch one of those monsters?”
“Not if I can help it,” Bryan said, biting through tendons he’d found from an abandoned kill. Nature’s twine. “If there are big fish, there must be smaller fish to feed them. And us.”
“Fish?” Cassie said. “I’ve never heard a fish make that kind of noise before.”
She was right, but Bryan wasn’t in the mood to discuss it.
“We need to find a regular source of sustenance as soon as we can,” Bryan said.
There was a rush of water at the water’s edge as something waded through it. Bryan thought he caught sight of a shadow moving on the fringes of his foggy sphere. It was thick, with a slimy appearance. He blinked, and it was gone, leaving behind the swirling fog it had disturbed.
Another thrash in the sea, and a muffled squeal was cut short as soon as it had begun, cut short by death’s hand, Bryan thought. Whether it was the creature he’d seen in the shallows that had met its end, or a victim of it, Bryan couldn’t tell.
The beach returned to meditative silence after that. Blissful, terrifying silence. Terrifying because soon the predator would require another meal to fill its belly, and soon, if Bryan hadn’t missed his guess. It disturbed Bryan that he and the others were not all that far from its clutches.
They ate a meal of roasted nuts and leafy salad a little farther up the beach than the previous night. None of them took their eyes off the fog as they fed their faces with the berries and coconut fragments Zoe had made for dessert. It was a filling, if not delicious, meal.
They lay around the fire. None of them needed the heat, but the light gave them comfort. There was a slight chill in the moist air, a nice respite from the heat they had experienced on the climb up the hill. They were already beginning to drift asleep, their bellies full and the exertions of the day catching up with them.
SCREEAAAHHH!
The family shot up, peering at their surroundings, scrubbing the scene for any sign of a monster from their nightmares, but there was little to see through the thick shroud.
And then they heard it, what sounded like words, indistinct and unclear on the breeze.
Someone else was on the island.
4
“PUT THE FIRE OUT,” Bryan whispered.
Zoe was fastest to react, cupping the sand in her hands and tossing it over the flames. Aaron and Cassie were beside her, helping doubt the embers.
Bryan got down on his hands and feet and edged into the fog, in the direction of the voices he thought he’d heard. He slithered forward an inch at a time, the sand rough and coarse, digging into his soft palms. He listened attentively, turning his head side to side. He crawled forward again and froze.
The voices were close now, ahead and to Bryan’s left. They were rough, from the lower echelons of society, British, if he hadn’t missed his guess. There was a pair of them, perhaps three. He couldn’t make out their words. They stepped in his direction, and suddenly he heard every word. More than that, he could see them. Their profiles, in any case.
They were three vague shadows, shaded by the lantern light one of them carried, illuminating their profiles against the thick fog. Two of them wore hats of the old nineteenth century style that sat perched on the head, the brim curled up. The third wore no hat and carried the lantern. He had long hair that reached his shoulders. Bryan caught the strong smell of cheap alcohol as they passed.
“Hurry up, will ya?” a croaky voice said. “I hate being so close to the water like this.”
“Quit your complaining,” a deep voice said. “We’re on the island now. There’s no big monsters here.”
“But it can reach us with its arms,” a shaky, scared voice said.
“Tentacles,” the deep voice said. “They’re tentacles, not arms.”
“Tent’cles, arms, what’s the difference?” the scared voice said. “They’ll still snap off an arm or leg if they get the chance.”
“Or your head, if yer lucky,” the deep voice said. “You won’t even notice the difference.”
“Neither would we,” the croaky voice said. “He’ll still be talking out of his jacksy!”
The two deeper voices, larger men by the sound of them, cackled with mirth.
The lantern spun around to face them.
“Keep your voices down!” the scared v
oice said. “I don’t want to bring these monsters down on us! We shouldn’t be here. This is its home, its lair. And we came strolling right into it!”
“Under Stoneheart’s orders,” the deep voice said. “And what were you going to do exactly? Tell him ‘No’? I’d like to see you try.”
“I’d say this ain’t no job for a man of my station,” the scared voice said indignantly.
“Your station?” the deep voice said. “You’re a deck swabber. Now, shut up and bring round the lantern. We’ll get the stash and then get out of here. Are you okay with that, my lady?”
Undisguised snickers from croaky voice.
Judging by their coarse voices and general aroma, all three men sounded used to swigging at the bottle and making merry. Presently they were heading toward the center of the island for their stash. What stash they were referring to, Bryan could only guess. Money? Food? Alcohol?
Bryan was tempted to follow them, so he could take advantage of their supplies once they were gone, but he didn’t want to risk letting the men stumble upon Aaron, Cassie and Zoe as they made their way back to their boat.
Bryan gave a moment’s thought to the boat the three men must have brought to shore. It would be much better than the hollowed out tree trunk they needed to fashion. If they needed to stay at sea longer than they expected, this professionally-made boat would have been ideal.
But if there were three men, there was no reason to suspect there weren’t more. They would be residing on a large ship just off the coast, having sent this smaller ship to fetch supplies. They did not know the island was already inhabited, and Bryan intended on keeping it that way.
And if the boat went missing, it would only draw attention to the family. Bryan wanted the men gone as soon as possible. He turned and headed back toward where the others were waiting.
“Bryan?” Zoe said softly.
“Yes,” Bryan said. “It’s me.”