by Banks, R. R.
I felt like I was no longer in control of my body. Awareness seemed to wash over me for a few moments at a time, but never close enough that I could actually latch onto it and let it drag me up into full consciousness. I woke suddenly, gasping for breath, feeling like the water had seeped into the cabin and risen up over the berth to swallow me. My hands clawed at the pillow and I desperately breathed in the salty air, relieved that it had only been my imagination that made me feel like I was drowning. As soon as my lungs filled, the darkness took over again and I fell back to sleep, my pillow on the floor now so that it couldn’t try to smother me again.
The next time I awoke, I could hear what sounded like screaming. I felt too afraid to move. The boat tossed violently and I realized that the brief moment of quiet before I first fell asleep was just the eye of the storm. It wasn’t over. In fact, now it seemed even more intense than it had been before. Now the wind was whipping around the cabin with a terrifying ferocity. The wind beating against the fiberglass was sharp and loud, combining with the screams until all the noise combined into a chaotic dissonance that reverberated through my mind. I wanted to investigate the screaming, but I couldn't force my body to budge. As the darkness started to dim the edges of my mind again, I briefly wondered whether there was truly a scream at all or if it was just the harshness of the wind.
I didn’t know how much time had passed when a sudden jolt woke me from a deep, dreamless sleep. The boat was finally calm, and relief poured over me as I realized that the storm had truly passed this time and we were, at least in terms of being sucked down into the waves, safe. I didn't want to move. Outside, the world was deadly silent, and I wasn't ready to face the potential array of horrifying scenes that might be awaiting me outside of the cabin. I was very aware that neither of the men had come into the cabin during the night, which meant that unless there was some hidden Batman-style cabin somewhere else on the boat, they had weathered the storm out on the deck. With as aggressive as the wind and sea had felt from within the protection of the cabin, I couldn’t imagine what it had been like to actually be outside, exposed to it all, and was afraid that they might not have gotten through it.
The boat stopped moving and once again I could hear the individual waves breaking against the hull. They were far calmer now, almost like they were trying to soothe the boat after the assault. The analogy sent an all-too familiar shudder through me and I forced the thought out of my mind. After lying awake for a few minutes, curiosity finally overpowered my fear and I carefully moved off of the berth and started toward the cabin door. I paused again when I reached the door, hesitating to step out onto the deck. I didn't know what I was going to find there; or what I might not find. My hand trembled as I reached for the handle and pushed the door open. Ahead of me I saw the back corner of the boat crushed and tattered, pieces of the wood drifting away with the water.
"Oh, shit."
As soon as I heard Gavin cursing, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. It wasn’t the most delightful of early-morning greetings, but spewing profanity required being alive, so I was willing to go with it. I climbed up the rest of the way out of the cabin and rushed toward the sound of his voice. He was on the other side of the boat, crouched beside Hunter where he lay slumped on the deck. I ran toward them and dropped to my knees beside the prone man, my heart pounding in my chest.
"What's wrong with him?" I asked frantically. "Is he…"
"He's not dead," Gavin said, taking his fingers away from Hunter's neck where he had had them pressed to his pulse point. "I woke up and found him like this. He must have blacked out, but he's alive."
"Where are we?" I asked.
I straightened and looked out over the edge of the boat. The small vessel was stopped a few yards away from a sandy beach. Branches and leaves scattered across the pale sand told me that the storm had hit here was well, but I was grateful to see dry land. I wouldn’t be planning another cruise any time soon.
Gavin was unlatching Hunter from the harness that held him in place and didn't look up.
"My navigation system is destroyed. I can't tell where we are."
"Apparently, we’re at the beach," I said, too tired to laugh at my own bad joke.
I glanced down and watched Gavin straighten Hunter out so that he was lying on his back rather than being curled partially on his side. Water dribbled from the corner of his mouth and he made a gurgling sound in his throat before choking and gasping for breath. Gavin lifted him up by his shoulders and Hunter coughed out more water before finally drawing in a deep breath.
"Are you alright?" I asked, leaning down to look at him.
Hunter's eyes lifted to mine and he stared at me for a few seconds, but I couldn't decipher the emotion in the look. Without answering me, he pushed himself up off of the deck and stood shakily, gripping the side of the boat for stability. He gazed out over the side just as I had, his eyes locked on the beach.
“Oh, shit,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “That seems to be the general consensus about our current situation.”
I heard a grinding sound and looked up to see Gavin trying to start the boat again. He shook his head, tried again, and then kicked the wall.
Well, good. I’m glad to see that he utilizes only the most advanced mechanical techniques.
"The engine's shot. No engine. No navigation system. No communication." He gestured toward the destroyed portion of their boat. "The boat is destroyed. What in the sweet fuck are we supposed to do now?"
"This island isn’t too far away from the course of the cruise ship. It can’t be. We haven’t been sailing for that long. It’s probably one of the ones that the ships stop on. If we go around to the other side, I’m sure we'll find other people and they can help us," Hunter said.
Despite some shakiness in his voice, he sounded strong and in control, and I felt myself wanting to trust him even though the thought of giving my trust to anyone right now after being so relentlessly pursued by anonymous killers was terrifying. Hunter made his way to the hatch on the back of the boat and forced it open. I watched him climb down and realized that the sandbar where we had crashed was high enough that his head was still visible as he made his way toward the water in front of us. I followed, making my way gingerly down the ladder and into the inches of water. The sand sank and slipped beneath my feet, and for the first time I realized that I no longer had my shoes.
"Oh, dammit!" I exclaimed. "I lost my shoes."
"That is really at the bottom of our priority list right now, Eleanor, and besides, I really don't think that five-inch spikes are best option for wading through the ocean, or all that appropriate for a woman…”
He hesitated, but I knew exactly what was on the tip of his tongue.
A woman your age.
Right that instant the attraction that I had felt for Hunter from the first moment that I saw him faded a bit. There was nothing like feeling like a man thought your hoo-ha was as dried up as the floral sachet tucked in your lingerie drawer to take the edge off of your sex drive.
I shot him a glare and continued along the sand. I wasn't aware that I was approaching the edge until it gave out from under my feet and I slipped all the way into the water. Panic rushed through me again and I shot upwards, screaming as I broke through the surface, positive that this was going to be the moment that my life ended. After everything that I had gone through, death was going to come at the cold hands of the bitter bitch of the ocean.
"Swim!" Hunter shouted. “Stop flailing and swim!”
I could hear his voice and knew that I should be following his instructions, but I was paralyzed. My old fear of water, the very one that I had ironically overcome with repeated cruises, had rushed back in all its glory and I felt like I couldn’t get myself under control. The water pressed around me and I felt like I couldn't stay above the surface. Something was dragging my down, pulling me away from the air and threatening to pull me into the depths.
I knew it. I fucking knew it. M
yth, my ass. My obituary was going to read ‘Death by Sea Monster’
I felt like I couldn't fight anymore. I had been fighting for so long, and for so long it seemed that the harder I fought to climb up out of the darkness, the harder the fall when I couldn't fight any longer. Before now, though, I was the only one that could be hurt. This time I had pulled two men who had absolutely nothing to do with this down with me. I had a flicker of feeling as though I was trading them for myself and I didn’t like that thought.
I felt the sand beneath my feet again and realized that I had gotten toward the surface. I collected all of the strength and energy within me and pushed against it to force myself up. As I got closer to the surface, I felt a strong arm grab my waist and pull me up. We broke the surface and I turned to see Hunter holding me, paddling us both toward the strip of pale beach ahead. I heard a splash and turned to see Gavin coming up out of the water, apparently having leapt off of the side of the boat.
Well, good. Now we’re even.
Hunter released me as we came to within a few feet of the shore and I crawled forward for a few feet. My mind went to the image of slim, beautiful women in movies strolling out of the ocean and compared myself in that moment to them. I felt like the Creature from the Black Lagoon. I stood and walked until the sand was dry against my skin before dropping down to sit. I turned and watched Hunter coming out of the water, my breath catching in my throat as my eyes fell on the section of chiseled chest and stomach I could see through the tear in his shirt.
Oh, he was definitely being wasted on the advertising industry.
Chapter Six
Gavin
I climbed to the top of the rocky ridge, muttering as I went as if that would somehow convince the jagged edges to smooth out, or at least for the steep incline to have the decency to lessen for me. When I finally reached the top, I pushed aside the palm fronds that crossed my path, and discovered that I most certainly had not reached the top and that the trees had been concealing an even more treacherous path ahead of me. At the back of my mind I had been expecting to see a hotel in the distance, or at least the rope fences and small wooden signs that companies used to gently guide tourist exploration of the islands so that they could feel as though they were being wild and adventurous but didn’t become insurance liabilities. Instead I saw only more thick, untouched jungle.
Dammit all to hell. This is not what I signed up for.
I had been exploring the island since moments after we had first arrived, and so far, I had found no signs of human life. Hunter’s assumption that this island was one of the trail of little day stops on the cruise line tours had given me some hope. I figured he must be right. That storm couldn’t have jostled us so far away from the cruise ship that we would end up on an island that was totally uninhabited. There had to be at least a juice bar or tiki torch somewhere. But, no. Nothing. I had stalked my way through the jungle and along the rocks for what felt like hours and I hadn’t found anything but just more jungle and rocks.
Concerned that I would get myself lost if I tried to venture any further without something to mark my way, I turned around and started back toward the beach. I had the strange compulsion to thank the palm fronds as I walked away from them, thinking it was almost as if they had tried to protect me by shielding the view of how much further the ridge rose ahead.
Holy shit, I’m losing my mind already.
I was nearly back to the sand when I noticed that Hunter was back on the deck of the boat, moving toward the cabin. I ran toward it, shouting Hunter's name as I went.
"What are you doing?" I demanded.
Who did this man think he was climbing onto my boat uninvited not once, but twice? He was the reason we were stuck on this --- I can’t believe these words are even coming out of my mouth --- desert island, and now he was poking around on my boat trying to find…. what the hell did he think that he was going to find? Did he somehow know who I was and what I had been doing floating around in the dark water near the cruise ship?
Hunter stepped back away from the cabin door and glared down at me as if I had no right to be asking him about his actions. The fire in the look surprised me. My first impression of him had been that he was nothing but a nerdy little guy whose greatest concern was probably color coordinating his pens with his belt. Between the struggle with the storm and the way that he was looking at me now, though, I was wondering if there was actually more to him than just that.
"If you haven't noticed,” he snapped at me, “there is no one else on this island. Not a tourist. Not a researcher. No one. We have quite literally gotten ourselves stranded on a deserted island, and with a trashed boat and no communication system, we are essentially screwed for the foreseeable future."
"What does that have to do with you rummaging through my boat?" I asked as I crossed the water again and was climbing onto the deck to face Hunter.
"I was hoping to find some supplies that we could salvage to help us get through however long we are going to be here."
I forced my mind to calm and my heart to stop racing.
He didn’t know.
My papers were hidden far enough in the recesses of the cabin that no one would be able to find them without my help, and if Hunter knew about them, he would have already confronted me. All he was trying to do was find the things that we would need to help us through this situation. I gave a short nod.
"I'm sorry. You're right. Go ahead."
Hunter ducked into the cabin and reappeared a moment later with a large black trunk on his shoulder.
"What's in here?" Hunter asked.
"Clothes," I told him.
"That's it?" Hunter asked.
He sounded suspicious, but not as though he actually knew what was hiding in the cabin. It was more likely that he could feel the heft of the bag and didn’t believe that it was twenty pounds of underwear and socks.
"A couple of knives. Some cash."
"Well, I don't think that we are going to be hailing a cab out of here anytime soon, so the cash is probably useless. The knives could be helpful, though."
Hunter hoisted the trunk off of his shoulder and handed it over to me. I took it and carried it over to the side of the boat so I could toss it down into the water. The boat had created enough of a temporary tide pool near the sandbar that I wasn't concerned that the trunk would float away, and I knew that the water wasn’t going to seep through. I returned to the cabin and we spent the next several minutes tossing the cases and trunks that we could salvage down into the water. When we were finished, we both jumped down and started dragging the cargo up onto the sand. I was getting strangely accustomed to flinging myself off of the boat and I figured that could be just one more skill I would be able to add to the “special talents” section of my resume if I survived getting off this damn island.
The first crate that we opened was from the galley, and I spread the supplies out on the sand to evaluate them. Unfortunately, the crate that these had been stored in wasn’t watertight and many of the containers weren’t designed with an afternoon swim in mind, either. The food inside had been ruined, but we had basic cooking tools. Suddenly I was reminded of the fact that I hadn't eaten anything since well before I pulled up beside the cruise ship the night before and my stomach rumbled angrily.
"We should try to find some food," I said as Hunter came up beside me and pulled the first trunk up to open it. "It might take a while to prepare anything worth eating." I pulled my kit out of the crate and spread it out, pulling out my flint and feeling a shimmer of hope as I realized it was still intact. "I can get the fire started if you and Eleanor can go see what you can find in the jungle. I saw some fruit trees back there."
I could see Hunter bristle slightly, but then he nodded and stalked off toward where Eleanor stood in the sand, staring out over the water. She turned to him as Hunter approached and I saw them start off toward the trees together. I contemplated them as I watched them, wondering what had led up to them running along the deck of the b
oat together and tossing themselves down into the water. They didn’t seem like the type of people who would have any real reason to know each other, yet there was a somewhat tenuous connection between them that told me that they hadn’t just met when they were on the ship.
Could he be one of her little boy toys?
That didn’t strike me as being likely. Hunter didn’t seem exactly like boy toy material. Even with the anger and aggression that he had shown, there was still an aura of awkward, nerdy shyness around him that made him seem like the opposite of what I would imagine an exorbitantly wealthy divorcee would look for in a younger man she wanted to string along purely for entertainment purposes. And now that I thought about it, I hadn’t ever heard mention of her having any such relationships. They might be common among women of her age and means, and Eleanor was definitely beautiful enough to have plenty of willing participants, but it seemed that she hadn’t gone that direction since her divorce.
Could they actually have a relationship going?
That seemed pretty unlikely as well. While Eleanor and Hunter seemed to know each other on some level, there wasn’t enough between them to suggest that they had that level of connection. I thought that I had seen a spark of attraction between them, and there was definitely concern in Eleanor’s eyes when she thought that the younger man had been killed in the storm, but I wouldn’t jump so far as to say that she looked like she was in love with him. Besides, I was fairly certain that if there was such a relationship happening, I would have been told about it when I got my instructions for this job. Having a man around always made things like this more difficult, and I would think that I would have been told so that I could prepare my approach differently.