“What the fuck?” she breathed, wiping the condensation off the window. In front of her, not a hundred yards away, was a beach. A fucking beach, with palm trees and everything! It looked like a fucking post card! She knew they’d been floating on the current for the past three days, but was certain they were somewhere out in the middle of the frigging Pacific Ocean. At one point they had talked about dropping the anchor but none of them knew if the water was shallow enough, or even how to safely do it. If they didn’t consider the tide or the wind conditions, they could easily be pulled under the sea. None of them had enough nautical training to risk it.
“I’ll be damned,” she whispered, feeling positive for the first time since the crash. Getting safely on land would give them a fighting chance to survive. She could make that work! “Daniel, look at this!”
Daniel leaned in, placing a hand against her back to support himself, looking in the direction she gestured. She pulled in her breath and quickly glanced at his profile, surprised by her reaction to his touch. After three days she could still smell traces of his cologne. It was pleasant. He turned back and smiled, a look of relief on his handsome, unshaven face.
“Well that’s the first stroke of luck we’ve had!” he blurted, offering her a quick hug.
“Actually, I think surviving the crash was probably our first stroke of luck,” she quipped, brushing a stray hair out of her eyes,” but this is definitely a close second!”
“What is it?” Ryan asked, gently patting Willie on the back to wake him up. Charles began to stir as well.
“We seem to have drifted to some land, boys,” Joss said, her mind racing as she formulated a safe exit strategy. They needed to get themselves and their provisions to the island while they had a break in the weather. They couldn’t afford to delay.
“Are you boys up for a swim?”
* * *
It was heavily raining once again but Joss didn’t mind. It was easier to collect rain water on land than it ever would have been tossing around in the ocean and she wisely set out several vessels to catch it, including some bamboo she had carefully notched out. She knew that you never took anything for granted and while it had been raining for days, it could stop at anytime and be absent for weeks. She wasn’t taking any chances. She had six souls to keep hydrated, six mouths to feed. Even though the island appeared deserted, she felt relaxed and more at ease than she had in days. They had a much better chance of survival on land than they would have had in the middle of the ocean, and maybe a better chance of rescue.
The men were busy collecting palm leaves, bamboo and tree limbs so they could start building a shelter. It sucked working in the rain, but at least it was warm. They were all strong guys, and many hands made light work. Joss glanced over at the captain. He was resting under a small lean-to they slapped together, somewhat protected from the rain, his head propped up with a life jacket. He was no worse than he had been, but not a whole lot better either. He’d stirred a little during the transport from the plane to the island, and again when she tucked him under the shelter. He even took a little water from her. She hoped that he would regain complete consciousness soon so that she could finally breathe a little easier. The gash on his head was healing and she was now confident he had not sustained internal injuries. If he had, she was sure he would have been in worse shape than he was. Instead, he seemed to be holding his own.
It had taken them several hours to unload the plane and take everything to the beach. They had to make several trips. Thankfully the water was not deep and they were able to wade easily to shore. Once she realized they were not in water over their heads, Joss suggested that they tie together all the life jackets, assembling a make-shift raft to help them easily transport the captain to shore. It worked perfectly and once he was safely on the beach, they used the raft to transport the rest of their provisions. They were even able to access the cargo hold and collect their suitcases, despite the fact that one of the plane’s floats was destroyed. It made sense now, why the plane had been sitting at such a weird angle.
Joss looked out, just past the lagoon, to where the plane was bobbing in the surf. No longer worried about their safety, Charles had dropped the anchor. They didn’t want the little plane to float back out to sea, in case it could somehow aid in their rescue. She was hopeful that Captain Grant, when he was stronger, would be able to tinker with the radio and get it working. They’d all tried at one point or another over the past few days, but the electronics seemed to be fried. Maybe he would know what to do.
“Joss, everything ok?”
She turned around to find Willie standing behind her, shirtless, his dark skin glistening from the rain. She looked him up and down, nodding her reply. He casually offered her his hand.
“Come on back, we’re ready to assemble the shelter. We thought you might want to offer us guidance on where it should go, and maybe show us how to assemble it so it doesn’t come crashing down on our heads,” he urged, chuckling softly.
Joss held his hand and allowed him to lead her. His hand was surprisingly soft, dwarfing her own, but it felt good. Safe. He turned back and smiled at her, and for a moment, she lost her breath. He was truly beautiful. Tall, dark, strong, a perfect specimen of man. He shook his head softly, as though wondering why she hesitated. Embarrassed, she laughed off her attraction and gave him a little nudge, urging him to keep moving. It had been a long time since she found herself that physically attracted to a man, and it completely caught her by surprise.
It suddenly occurred to her what it could mean, being the only woman on the island.
Chapter 10
“This morning we’ll go through our luggage and sort through what we have that can be used for survival. You might be surprised by the multitude of uses for every day items,” Joss offered, mindlessly stoking the fire, “and then we can do a little exploring, maybe find a sustainable water source and some food.”
She’d not slept well, but as exhausted as she felt, she knew she needed to keep pushing. It had been much better sleeping on the ground than it had been on the plane, but she still felt like she was rocking in the waves, her body suffering from disembarkation sickness. She wished she had some Dramamine, but there was none in the first aid kit. She planned to go for a long walk later, certain it would help recondition her to land.
No matter how lousy she felt, she wouldn’t let on. There was still much to do to make their camp and shelter secure. The men were looking just as weary. They were disheveled and dirty from a hard day’s labor, each of them sporting several day’s stubble on their tired, smudged faces. She was sure she looked just as rough as they did. There was soap in her toiletry bag and as soon as they were done sorting through their things, she planned to take an ocean bath. She’d not smelled fresh for days.
“Yes, food would be good. I’m famished,” Ryan grinned, “I’m jonesing for some bacon and eggs right about now.”
“Well, I’m not sure we can hook you up with that, but maybe we’ll find some edibles and some small critters to cook up,” Joss shrugged, appreciating his unwavering enthusiasm. Even after everything that happened, he still seemed relaxed, chill even.
“That’ll do,” he winked, sipping back his tiny ration of coffee. They were drinking the last of it, and Joss was going to miss it when it was gone, in spite of having had only a few mouthfuls over several days. She popped a jujube in her mouth, savoring the sweet flavor on her tongue. Their food was almost gone too, but she was confident the island would nourish them. Heck, once they explored, it was possible they might even find civilization, although she didn’t hold out much hope for that. If this island was inhabited, she thought, the beach they landed on would have been occupied. It was spectacular, and certainly valuable real-estate.
“I’d like to try catching some fish today,” Willie announced quietly, his feet casually digging a trench in the sand in front of him, as though lost in thought.
“Yeah, I’ll join you,” Daniel offered with a weak smile, “
if that’s alright with you?”
“Sure, man. We can sharpen some sticks and make spears,” Willie agreed, holding his fist out for a bump. Daniel looked at him strangely, as though not sure how to receive the gesture. Willie snickered and dropped his fist, “Dude, don’t leave a brother hanging. Next time bump that fist.”
They both chuckled easily, still feeling each other out. They were all still assessing one another.
Daniel shrugged awkwardly, “Sorry, mate. My bad.”
“No, no. We’ll get there, bro,” Willie assured kindly. Joss regarded him warmly, enjoying his sweet nature. He seemed like a decent guy. They both did.
“I have an idea,” Joss said, standing up. She shook the sand off her bum and walked towards her luggage. After unlatching the case she carefully pulled out a garment bag, allowing the suitcase to close with a thump. She brought it over to the fire and unzipped the bag in front of them, pulling out a tacky pink gown.
Daniel raised his eyebrow, “a dress?”
“Uh, as pretty as that is, I think it might be a little formal for the island,” Ryan teased, “besides, we left our tuxes on the mainland. Well, except for Charles. He might have one.”
He tossed Charles a cheeky wink, a young pup teasing the old dog.
“Very funny, kid,” Charles said back, unfazed by the good-natured ribbing.
“No, no. I was thinking that we could use the tulle crinoline to make a fishing net. See?” Joss lifted the material on the dress to show them the fabric underneath. “We could somehow remove the layers and then stitch them together!”
She grinned widely, thrilled with the idea. Of course it would work.
“Stitch it with what?”
Following his breathy words, they all collectively looked over to where Captain Grant was resting, completely in sync with each other, as though they were one person. He’d turned on his side and was looking at them curiously, as though confused.
“Oh, hey Captain,” Joss dropped the dress into the sand and made her way over to his lean-to. She gently placed a hand on his forehead but he quickly brushed her away, like one might shoo a mosquito. It was a gesture she had not anticipated and it completely caught her off guard. She inhaled sharply, surprised by his abruptness.
“Where the hell are we?” he asked gruffly, his Aussie accent cutting sharply through her concern. She sat back on her calves, and placed her hands in her lap, unsure what else to do with them.
“Well, we’re not sure. We drifted on the ocean for several days and ended up in a lagoon. Your plane is anchored about a hundred yards off shore,” she explained, watching him carefully.
“Can I offer you some water?”
She picked up the water bottle she’d left by his side, enticingly rocking it back and forth.
He gestured sharply for her to give it to him. Joss wasn’t impressed with his manners, but uncapped the bottle anyway, placing it in his hand. She would cut him a little slack and dismiss his rudeness, considering he’d just regained consciousness. He was allowed to be tense, she surmised. The captain snatched the bottle from her and chugged down half of it before taking a breath.
“Easy now, your stomach has been empty for days. I don’t want you to vomit. Nice and slow,” she urged sincerely, simply concerned for his well being.
“I’m fine. What the hell happened?” he barked, finishing off the remainder of the bottle. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tossed the empty bottle to the ground.
“One minute we were flying through a storm, and the next we were making an emergency landing. You couldn’t get anyone on the radio, we lost all power and communications,” she explained, carefully choosing her words. He looked confused and Joss wondered if the whack to his head was worse that she first considered.
“Jesus, it’s coming back to me. Last thing I remember was the aircraft touching down, then nothing.”
“Yeah, you took a hard hit to the head, and maybe even a chest impact. I’ve been monitoring you closely since the accident,” she explained patiently, hoping not to alarm him.
“What are you, some kind of doctor?”
Joss shook her head, “no, not a doctor. I have medical training though...”
“So how long exactly since we went down?” he interrupted tersely, cutting her off.
He tried to sit up and quickly reached out for her arm, as though fighting dizziness.
“Any casualties?”
“Easy,” she cautioned, assisting him as best she could. He glared at her as though it were her fault he felt so lousy.
She tried not to take it personally, and continued, “No casualties, Captain. You were the only one seriously injured. It’s been over 80 hours. My best guess is that we went down around 10:30 on Thursday evening. We made landfall yesterday morning...Sunday.”
She casually looked behind her, locating the man she wanted. He was the only one wearing a watch, hers still sitting in the bottom of her carry on bag.
“Charles, what time is it?”
He checked his Rolex. “It’s 9:15,” he said back, offering her a smile.
She nodded her thanks and turned back to her patient.
“83 hours, to be precise Captain.”
“Fuck, that’s a worry. Any chance the men were able to get communications working?” he asked flatly, one brow raised, as though the thought that the “little lady” could fix the radio had not even crossed his mind.
Joss shrugged, annoyed by the sexist assumption. She probably couldn’t have, she thought crossly, but that wasn’t the point. None of the men could either, and they were big, strong boys.
“I think it’s shot. Everything was dead. Maybe when you’re up for it, you could take a look.”
He regarded her with mild amusement, as though wondering who the hell put her in charge.
“Yeah, that would be the plan,” he replied arrogantly.
“Great,” she hissed through a tight grin, trying to stay cool.
Joss wondered if he was always such a jack-ass and suddenly wished he would fall back to sleep. She liked him so much better unconscious.
“Do we have any biscuits or something?” he asked, unconcerned that he might have offended her.
“We don’t have much, but I’ll bring you over some almonds and a little bit of the apple juice I saved for you. I’m going to do a little exploring and foraging later, and Willie and Daniel are going to try their hands at fishing. Hopefully we can offer you something more for dinner.”
“If yer goin’ on a walk-about, take a bloke with ya. Not safe for a sheila to be in the jungle alone. The last thing we need is for you to wander off and git yourself lost,” he cautioned, his tone just an inch to the right of condescending.
“I think Joss will be fine. She’s a smart lady and has been keeping all our sorry asses alive for the past four days. We’ve been in good hands.”
Joss looked up to find Charles standing over her, the can of almonds in his hand. She could easily handle herself, but she appreciated the support, nevertheless.
“Is that right,” Grant grinned, eyeing Charles up and down, as though quickly assessing his character, and possibly his strength too.
Joss sighed quietly to herself, all too familiar with men like the captain underestimating her. It happened frequently. Guys would sign up for survival courses, coming in all hot and tough, acting like wannabe marines, until they realized a woman was instructing them. Often she had to deal with derisive eye rolls and scoffing until she “proved” her worth, where her male colleagues were just offered the benefit of the doubt. It was frustrating to say the least, but it never took long for her to earn their respect. She was good at unsaddling macho men from high horses.
“My apologies, girly,” Grant offered flatly, taking the almonds Charles offered him, not sounding sorry at all. He opened the tin and cockily popped one into his mouth, laying his head back down, his body language dismissing her.
Standing up, Joss shook her head, unwilling to be rattled by hi
m. She knew she needed to reserve judgement. The rest of them had several days to settle in, process their predicament, whereas the captain was still in shock. There was a small possibility he really wasn’t a jerk. At least she hoped so.
“You had the good sense to ration our water, I hope?” he grumbled, just as she walked away.
Then again, maybe he was.
Charles caught her eye and smirked, gently placing his hand on her shoulder, his touch especially nurturing. She reluctantly leaned into him, surprised by how badly she wanted to be held. Instead she patted his hand and shied away, unwilling to show her vulnerability.
Chapter 11
Joss was grateful to have her botany book with her, the one she’d brought on the trip. She’d read it cover to cover during the flight to Fiji and was confident she could easily forage for edibles, but she brought it along as a resource anyway. Better safe than sorry. Ryan hiked behind her, Joss’ now empty carry-on slung over his shoulder, picking his way cautiously through the heavy undergrowth.
It was close to noon before they finally ventured out, having spent the morning sorting through their luggage and taking inventory. Ryan had a very expensive bottle of wine stowed in his luggage, which they all agreed they would save for the day they got rescued. Joss was pleased to see several items they could use for everyday survival, along with her hunting/survival knife. They had two pocketknives, a corkscrew, lighter and matches, nail scissors and tweezers (hers), razors, her survival watch, and eight condoms. Charles even had several hotel sewing kits tucked away in his carry on. She wished she’d known about them the night of the crash, when she needed to stitch Captain Grant’s head wound. Either way, a needle and thread was exactly what she needed to patch together a sturdy fishing net from the crinoline of her dress. It turned out just as she envisioned.
That morning she’d even taken some time to weave together a basket out of palm fronds so that Willie and Daniel could use it to haul back whatever fish they caught. She suspected that early dawn was the best time to fish, but if they wanted to try, what could it hurt? Charles agreed to stay behind and fortify the shelter, but mostly to keep an eye on the captain until he had his land legs back.
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