“Cyrus, about last night…” She hesitated a little. “With what happened between us, and then… Peter.”
Cyrus took a deep breath and exhaled. He knew what must be going on inside her heart. From her perspective, it probably looked as though she’d broken up the friendship between him and Peter, and in the process, their entire group.
“Amy, if it hadn’t been him getting upset over how you feel or don’t feel about him, it would have been something else,” said Cyrus. “Hell, he was dead set on leaving on the raft almost from day one.”
“He was your best friend, Cyrus,” said Amy. “And you pretty much told me how it was with him and the way he felt about me.”
“He still is my best friend.” Cyrus looked out into the ocean, trying to see beyond the edge of the horizon. “We’re just… taking different approaches forward, for now.”
Amy didn’t seem satisfied by that, but Cyrus was sick of talking about it. He made as though to check on something in the shallows and splashed water in Amy’s direction as he stood up, eliciting a shocked gasp out of her in reaction.
“You…!” Amy glared at him, though she couldn’t hide the smile on her lips under it. She set her vine down and immediately started splashing him back.
Cyrus took his shirt off and flung it back onto the sand. His scratches from the night before were already starting to heal up nicely, which was a small miracle, given their limited options when it came to medical treatment. He ran into the water until he was up to his knees and unleashed a torrent of splashes in Amy’s direction, laughing as she counterattacked each one.
“We’re supposed to be fishing!” shouted Amy. Despite her protest, she was smiling at him. Her lips were so pretty, and the expression made her blue eyes seem like gentle, crystalline portals into a softer, sensual world.
Cyrus pulled her into what was half hug, half wrestling as he attempted to dunk her underwater. Amy laughed and began tickling him under one of his armpits, wiggling free. She crouched underneath his legs and pulled at his waist, knocking him over backward into the water.
Cyrus surfaced, and Amy was against him, their play having built to its inevitable conclusion. He kissed her deeply and ran a hand through her soft blonde hair. He felt her big breasts pushing against his chest, and found himself wondering if it had really been such bad fortune for them to end up on the island, after all.
“Cyrus…” Amy said, staring at him with those sensual eyes.
“What?”
She shook her head as though she didn’t know why she’d said his name, or rather, that it didn’t matter. It was because of him, a simple statement of fact. He was there, and he was who he was, and those two facts brought a deep happiness to her heart.
“Cyrus, what are you doing here?”
It was late in the afternoon on a Wednesday night, and Cyrus was waiting outside of Heaven’s Gallery, at the edge of the street. Amy had just finished for the day, and wore her hair tucked up into a baseball cap as she left the strip club’s premises.
“You weren’t at school today,” he said.
Amy’s expression was bleak and emotionless, and it stayed that way even as she shrugged with feigned nonchalance.
“I had to work,” she said.
She started walking as though to continue past him. Cyrus fell into step beside her, feeling a strange obligation to make sure she made it home alright. She was the same as him, except in her case, the situation and the shame of it was even greater. She was trapped, the hope of a better future stolen away through essentially no fault of her own.
“Here,” he said, reaching into his backpack. “I got you something.”
He pulled out a pink wig, along with a pair of matching aviator sunglasses. Out of context, the gift would have seemed ridiculous, and even knowing what she’d use them for, it still bordered on being over the top.
But Cyrus could tell from Amy’s eyes, or more accurately, the tears on the verge of reaching them, what the gift meant to her. He knew her secret, and instead of doing what a man of lesser character might in the situation, he was going out of his way to help her keep hiding it.
“Thanks,” she said, in a quiet voice. “Cyrus, you probably shouldn’t have come here, though.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
It was more than just empathy that had brought Cyrus there, that afternoon. Krysta had called him again, promised him that she had a new buyer for some of the product he’d been sitting on all week. She’d asked him to meet him in the parking lot of Heaven’s Gallery, wary of what had happened las time, and Cyrus had showed up and done the deal without hesitation.
“It’s the same for me, you know,” said Cyrus. “I’m trapped here, too. In this shitty town, with shitty circumstances.”
Amy frowned at him.
“Do you want something from me, Cyrus?” she asked. “Is that why you’re here? Just sucking up to me and making it seem like you care, so you can-”
“Do you remember what you said to me when we first met?” he asked, interrupting her. Amy give him a puzzled look.
“What?”
“Never mind,” he said. “To answer your question, no. I’m just being a good neighbor and trying to help you out.”
“Nothing short of a new life would really help me at this point, Cyrus,” said Amy. “And fresh starts aren’t something that exists in the real world.”
Cyrus shrugged.
“You never know,” he said. “Fate works in mysterious ways.”
“Fate can go fuck itself.”
“When did you develop such a dirty mouth?”
Cyrus meant the question as a joke, but when he turned to look at Amy, he saw tears streaking down her face. He thread an arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze.
“What am I going to do, Cyrus?” whispered Amy. “There are already rumors going around… And the patrons at the club, they just… keep wanting more, and more from me.”
Cyrus ran a hand through his hair. He knew why he cared so much about Amy and her situation, and it had nothing to do with him being a good neighbor, or a good person. He needed to help her because he didn’t have the courage to help himself anymore. She was his distraction from facing his own reality, his missing mother and drowning prospects.
“I’ll get you out of this, Amy,” he said. “Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. I promise.”
It took a couple of minutes for Cyrus and Amy to refocus their attention on fishing. Seeing Amy in a bikini was more than enough to get Cyrus excited and thinking of other things, but Amy voiced her concerns about what the others would think if they came back in tandem that afternoon without anything to show for it.
The line that Cyrus had made for himself, baited with a fishbone and scrap of fin, hovered on the surface of the empty water. He understood why the iconic image of fishermen was always a man sleeping in his boat, or a group of men drinking beer while they waited. It wasn’t a fast process.
Amy was actually the one who got the first bite. Cyrus was almost dead on his feet, so bored that he worried he might tip back over into the ocean, when Amy made a noise of surprise.
“Cyrus…” she said. “I got something!”
He resisted the urge to charge over and give her a hand, fearing that it might spook the fish or affect the line. Instead, Cyrus turned to watch, shouting words of encouragement.
“Good!” he said. “See if you can pull it in! Just go nice and slow, and get it onto the sand.”
Amy was standing waist deep in the water and heaving at the line with all her strength. Cyrus watched for a moment before noticing how strange it looked, her leaning back as though something genuinely huge had taken the other end of the line.
“Help!” Amy stumbled forward. “Cyrus! Grab onto me!”
He plashed deeper out into the water and pulled Amy into a tight hug from behind. She laughed in triumph as the two of them slowly began to step backward, toward the beach, taking whatever had taken the bait along with them.
They made it out of the water, and with a final heave, they pulled a fish the length of Cyrus’s arm onto the sand, collapsing together in a heap as they did. The fish was energetic, and looked as though it might flap its way across the sand and back into the sea. Amy fell on top of it and Cyrus fell on top of her, both of them laughing in triumph at their catch.
“Yes!” shouted Amy. “We did it!”
“This thing is going to taste so good!” said Cyrus. “WE get to eat fish tonight!”
Both of them were distracted, and neither of them saw it approach. Cyrus heard the growl too late, and by the time he looked down the beach to the source of it, the panther was already on the move.
It was the biggest of the ones that he’d seen, large enough to kill a person on its own with ease. Large enough to kill Candace. Cyrus shot up to his feet and took a step forward, trying to create space for Amy.
“Cyrus!” she screamed. “Oh my god!”
He’d brought his club with him, but it was out of his reach now, up by the tree line. Cyrus locked eyes with the cat, watching it sink into a crouch, like a snake coiled and ready to strike.
“Amy, start heading down the beach,” he said. “Get away from here.”
“No.” Amy’s voice stiffened a little. “Cyrus… maybe it just wants the fish?”
He considered it for a moment before pushing the idea aside with primal possessiveness. Amy had caught the fish, and it was hers to eat or to share with the rest of the survivors. Cyrus wasn’t going to let anything, not even a massive killer cat with claws the size of his fingers, bully him into submission.
The panther let out a low roar and a deep, instinctual fear seized Cyrus by the gut. He balled his hands into fists, sure that he was staring into the face of his own death. He didn’t let himself back down, not when doing so would mean death for both him and Amy.
Another noise came from the tree line, followed by a high pitched, precocious roar. Shadow trotted over to where the standoff was happening, his fur puffed outward in an attempt to make himself look bigger. He stood in front of Cyrus, against the other panther.
The bigger cat made an odd noise and lost most of the fight in its posture. Shadow seemed to relax, as well, and closed the distance, licking the fully grown panther’s paw. He received a lick from the large cat’s massive tongue in return, and then both panthers walked back over to the trees and disappeared into the jungle.
“Wow.” Cyrus shook his head. “Amy, did you see…”
He turned to look at her, only to find that somewhere in the chaos of catching the fish and the appearance of the panther, her bikini top had slid down to a dangerously low angle. Cyrus saw the pink edge of her areola poking out on one side and was utterly hypnotized by it.
“What?” Amy frowned at him and then looked down, her cheeks turning bright red. “Cyrus!”
CHAPTER 25
They both tried their luck at catching another fish with what was left of the afternoon, with no luck. The sun was slowly sinking over the horizon when they started walking back, heading along the beach the long way instead of cutting back through the jungle.
Cyrus carried the fish they did manage to catch, mentally sketching out what they’d have to do to get the meat off it as they walked. Without a proper knife, or any sharp tools, he’d have to take his time to properly fillet the thing.
“There’s Kyoko,” said Amy, as they approached the camp.
“Yeah,” said Cyrus, with less enthusiasm. “There’s Kyoko.”
Kyoko’s smile imparted different meanings to each of them. Cyrus saw the look in her eyes, which under different circumstances, would have probably excited him. After this morning, and her blackmail, it just made him feel like he was getting played.
“Looks like the two of you had some luck, after all,” said Kyoko. “Maggie and I almost placed bets on whether the two of you were really ‘fishing’ out there.”
“Oh, stop!” said Amy. From the tone of her voice, it sounded as though she enjoyed hearing that the other girls were talking about her and Cyrus, or more accurately, acknowledging their relationship openly.
Is that what the two of us have? A relationship?
The camp had been greatly improved since that morning, and Cyrus was impressed, though he tried not to be. Kyoko had stopped building up the fence evenly and focused on the corners, but she’d done more than just raise them up higher.
Kyoko had built the corners of the fence into small, triangular shelters, placing branches down in the manner of a roof. There was still work to be done, as the shelters would leak in the rain, and were all open on the side facing the camp’s interior, but it was a fantastic start.
“Good work, Kyoko!” Amy offered the other woman a high hive, and Kyoko grinned as she slapped her hand. “Looks like we both had good days.”
“Thanks,” said Kyoko. “What about you, Cyrus? Are you impressed by my work?”
Cyrus hesitated.
“…Yeah,” he finally said. “Great job.”
“You can give her more credit than that, you know.” Maggie poked her head out of one of the shelters, frowning at him. “Between the fence and collecting the wood, she’s been working on this for days now.”
“Right, sure,” said Cyrus. “Kyoko, your work is incredible. Really, it’s more than any of us could have asked for.”
The sarcasm in his voice was a pointless protest, as it only irritated Amy and Maggie, while making Kyoko grin back at him. The girls let it drop, however, and Cyrus fished Darius’s lighter out of his pocket to get started on the fire.
Darius, thought Cyrus. What would he think, if he could see me now?
There was still a substantial amount of leftover, half charred wood in the fire, and it only took Cyrus a minute to coax it into flame. He had to admit, Kyoko’s handiwork went a long way toward making their camp feel like a real camp. For the first night on the island, he felt like they were safe.
“Wait, say that again?” Maggie’s voice pulled Cyrus back into the moment.
“We were attacked by one of the panthers,” said Amy. “And Shadow came to our rescue.”
“Wow,” said Kyoko. “Cat’s got some courage, I’ll give him that.”
Next, Cyrus moved to assist Maggie with getting the meat off the fish and removing the bones. True to what he’d expected before, it was a drawn out and difficult process. He used a shell that was sharp on one edge to make the cuts, trying to neatly slice out what they could eat from the rest, while also trying to keep too much sand from getting into it.
“It’s going to be worth it,” said Maggie. “I don’t even like fish and I’m dying to get a taste of this.”
Cyrus nodded.
“Anything interesting happen on the farm, after I left?” he asked.
Maggie shrugged.
“I saw a bird? That’s… about it. Nothing like your encounter with the panther, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Cyrus looked up at her, smiling at the expression she had on her face. Darius’s death had wounded Maggie, and each time he’d looked at her over the past few days, he’d see a shadow of the pain. Now, it was almost muted, more an undertone than a predominant force over her emotions. She was strong, and that was incredibly attractive, but he did what he could to slip by the thought.
He eventually left the fish to Maggie and moved back over to the fire, helping Amy and Kyoko crack open a few of the coconuts they’d collected that day. Maggie brought the fish over to the fire once it was ready to be cooked, placing it on a thin rock and positioning it over a section of hot coals, rather than direct flame.
It smelled amazing, better than anything Cyrus could remember, and the survivors weren’t the only ones who thought so. A small, desperate meow came from outside the makeshift door that Kyoko had installed into the fence. When none of them made it over in time to slide it open, Cyrus heard scratches on wood, followed by a soft thump as Shadow hopped down into the sand on the other side.
“The hero
of the afternoon,” he said. “Let’s make sure he gets whatever scraps we have left over.”
Shadow rubbed his body against Cyrus’s leg, purring and looking expectantly at the fire.
“I don’t know,” said Maggie. “I think he might try to fight you for your share.”
Dinner ended up being the most varied and grandiose of any the survivors had had since arriving on the island. They each got a steak sized portion of fish, including Shadow, along with a chunk of delicious coconut, a handful of berries, and a leafy green kale salad.
They talked normally as they ate, none of them feeling the need to dwell on whether they’d be rescued or what would happen the next day. It was nice, and Cyrus found that halfway through the meal, he was smiling for no real reason that he could put his finger on.
“What do you miss most?”
Kyoko’s question came after a short lull in the conversation. She asked it in a way that made it into an innocuous query, rather than something born of lamentation.
“That’s… a tough one,” said Cyrus. “I miss lots of things from back home.”
“Okay, let me rephrase it,” said Kyoko. “Outside of people, what do you miss most?”
“It sounds like you’ve given it some thought, so why don’t you go first?” he suggested.
Kyoko smiled.
“Sure. Two things. Netflix and beer.”
Cyrus couldn’t contain his laughter, despite the wariness he still held in regard to Kyoko’s intentions.
“Oh, Kyoko,” said Maggie. “That answer is so typically you.”
“Seriously,” said Kyoko. “Netflix and beer. I never realized how much I enjoyed curling up in front of my laptop, sipping at a cold beer and being totally unable to decide what to watch. It was such a nice feeling.”
Cyrus shrugged, his smile creeping wider across his face.
“I actually understand that,” he said. “I think I miss the mall the most.”
“The mall?” Maggie shook her head. “How is that something that you miss? You never seemed much like a materialistic person, at least not to me.”
Survival Island: Last Man Standing Page 14