I zoomed in as Estelle stared at me with a thousand emotions in her gaze. The camera picked up flashes of brown and green, twisting my stomach into a hundred knots.
Slowly, she grinned. “I’d like that.”
“I’d like it, too,” Pippa said. “Will we be on TV when they find us? Will they use our movies?”
I stiffened.
Who knew what the footage would be used for? Perhaps, it would be used as evidence of how a bunch of ordinary, society-spoiled people endured the elements.
Or...
Maybe the videos would be found many years from now, washed up in a bottle, a message to the outside world of four castaways who didn’t make it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
...............................................
E S T E L L E
......
Don’t fret when fate forbids you. Don’t cry when life doesn’t listen. Be brave and trust that you will survive. Be strong and never give in.
Never give in.
Never...give...in.
Lyrics for ‘Never Give In’ Taken from the notepad of E.E.
...
FOUR WEEKS
(September bleeding into October)
COCONUT, CLAMS, AND water.
Coconut, clams, and water.
I’m sick to death of coconut, clams, and water.
We’d done our best to supplement our diet with insects and an occasional lizard but even starving, there were limits.
Despite the lack of variety, my body still functioned, my period came and went, the children grew, and life aged us.
I craved fish. Something robust and meaty. Up till now, no one had been physically able or skilled enough to catch any (and we’d all tried, on numerous occasions).
I sat with my arms wrapped around my legs, resting my chin on my knees as the world woke up.
Four weeks and counting.
We’d survived this long doing what we knew. But fear kept us from trying anything new. Along with our unsuccessful attempt to spear a fish, we’d done our best to catch a seagull that’d landed to inspect our quickly growing pile of clamshells.
But we’d failed.
We were slowly starving from sameness.
To make it worse, the clams were getting harder and harder to find. Every day, we had to dig a little deeper, wade out a little farther. We’d exhausted our supplies, and now, we didn’t have a choice but to push ourselves to find alternatives.
The sun appeared on the horizon, spreading its pink glow across the ocean. My eyes drifted to the sea. Below the surface existed plenty of food. However, we had no fishing implements, no way of catching the slippery devils.
We need to change that.
It was time for the next stage. Evolve or die. Life wasn’t kind to those who didn’t help themselves.
My ribs and chest were mostly healed and nowhere near as painful. Conner had taken the strap off his wrist and claimed he could use it with only a small twinge, and Pippa’s shoulder had scarred neatly.
Galloway was the only one still unwell. His ankle gave him grief. He couldn’t move without his crutch. He pretended he was okay, but I could tell he was lying.
He glared at his leg, cursed his disability, acted as if he’d sooner chop it off than wait for his body to fix.
For a week now, I’d had the horrible thought that perhaps his shin, ankle, and foot would never heal properly. What if his bones were crooked and no matter how they knitted together, he would always limp?
Don’t think that way.
I bit my lip, resorting to a habit I’d begun and couldn’t stop. I gnawed on the sides of my cheeks, too, slowly eroding the flesh with stress. My teeth constantly felt furry as the toothpaste had run out and our toothbrush bristles slowly softened with use.
Last week, I’d taught the others what Madeleine had shown me when we’d gone on a double date and a seed from dinner wedged into my teeth. When Madi had taught me, I’d been in awe of the simple (but frankly rather gross) suggestion.
Hair.
A girl with long hair could tweak out a strand and use it as dental floss. Every night, I pulled a few free and passed them to Conner and Galloway. Pippa used her own, and together, we did our best with dental hygiene.
Soap had become seawater and sand and the sun kept us so hot that we sweated freely without smelling. As far as cleanliness went, we’d adapted. Even my hair had balanced in oils and no longer looked greasy but salt-sprayed and crinkled with sun-encouraged curls.
Sunburn was also avoided as we managed to stay in the shade at the height of the day and covered up when we had no choice but to be at its mercy.
Our way of living had advanced, our friendship deepened, our family group wedged firmly in my heart.
I loved them.
I couldn’t deny it.
I loved Pippa with her steely temper and quick-fire questions.
I loved Conner and his teenage need to prove himself.
And...
I loved Galloway.
I loved the way he dropped what he was doing if the children summoned him. I loved how he watched them sleep when he thought I wasn’t watching. I loved the way he left hibiscus flowers for me in the mornings when I went to collect firewood. I loved the way he made me feel as if everything he ever needed dwelled right inside my soul.
And I loved the way he spoke of grand plans of building a raft and sailing us to freedom—even though we’d had many conversations about how suicidal that would be: leaving the safety of land to bob around an ocean with no navigation or propulsion.
Ignoring logistics, Galloway was adamant he would rescue us.
And because of that...I loved him.
But was I in love with him?
Was it love with a use-by-date? Would it fade the moment we were found and returned to separate worlds? Was it love born of survival or truth? Or perhaps was it our circumstances and the fact that I’d have no one without him? Or was it providence...fate?
Despite perpetual hunger pangs, my body constantly desired him.
I’d wake from a dream with resonating clenches from a sleep-enjoyed orgasm. I’d excuse myself and swim when my turned-on wetness threatened to be noticeable on my cotton shorts.
He drove me insane; he drove me happy. He made me want to care for him while accepting his care in return.
Was that love?
I’d lost everything and been dropped in the middle of nowhere with strangers. Strangers who’d become the most important people in the world.
I love them.
And because of that, I wouldn’t let them perish from malnutrition.
I had to do something.
Today.
Unwinding from my position, I shrugged out of my black t-shirt and slipped down my shorts. Skinny-dipping wasn’t normally done, but everyone was asleep and I didn’t want to wear wet clothes once I’d finished.
Wading into the warm tide, I exhaled as I dropped below the surface.
The current flowed around me, some cool, some hot, all of it gentle and protective. Swimming bare allowed the sinful sensation of water against my sex and nipples. I felt naughty. I felt turned on. I felt beyond ready to invite Galloway to take the next step.
He’d been the perfect gentleman the past few weeks. Never pushy, no matter how much lust crackled between us.
Swimming upward, I took a deep breath and floated a few metres before scooping a handful of sand and scouring my body. The exfoliation method kept my skin super soft, but without moisturizer, I had to accept the tightness of having no age-defying protection.
Along with growing closer to my crash-mates, the island had become a friend, too. A living entity that provided for us, sheltered us, and ultimately kept us trapped.
It was a prison and salvation all at once.
Why haven’t they found us yet?
Where were we? Was Conner right with how many uninhabited islands there were? Was it possible to vanish in this day and age?
Ob
viously, it was.
We were living proof.
In the month we’d been here, not a single boat or plane had passed by. The ocean was silent as if the world had ended and we were the only ones remaining.
Ducking for another handful of sand, I scrubbed my hair and reclined in the water to rinse it out as best I could.
Cleaned, I paddled back to shore.
Wringing my hair out, I left the sea and shook out my t-shirt to get dressed.
The air evaporated droplets from my skin, and I was ready to face the quest of finding more food.
Pippa barrelled down the beach just as I hauled my shorts into place. “You went swimming without me.”
I bent and hugged her. “You’re up early.”
“I know. I had to pee.”
I was probably the only person alive who loved the fact she had to pee. It meant she had enough water to drink and her body wasn’t dehydrated. “Well, you can always swim now. I’ll watch you if you want.”
She shook her head. “I’m good. I’m too cold.” Rubbing the goosebumps on her arms, she reminded me that sleeping on the chilly sand wasn’t preferable even if we did have a fire.
She cocked her head, her copper hair turning a light auburn the longer we lived beneath the sun. “What were you doing?”
“Ah...I can’t say. It’s a secret.”
Her childish face scrunched up in frustration. “Tell me. I won’t tell anyone.”
Another reason I loved the children: they made me make an effort rather than waste away begging for rescue.
If Pippa and Conner weren’t here, Galloway and I would probably have resorted to grunting barely uttered syllables, unwilling to converse.
We might not talk, but we’d have lots of sex. Lots and lots of sex.
We’d probably never leave our sandy beds, utterly addicted to indulging in an activity that felt so good versus a life of drudgery.
How do you know it would feel good with him?
I hid my smile. Oh...I knew. I’d seen him in his boxer-briefs. I’d stolen glances as he stretched in the morning and the delectable muscles of his chest rippled with power. And his kisses....no one could kiss like that and not be good in bed.
“Tell me,” Pippa moaned when I didn’t reply.
I pressed her button nose. “Well, if you promise to keep it a secret. You’ve caught me. I’m really a mermaid and just came back from visiting my father King Trident.”
Her mouth fell open, literally smashed into the sand. “Really?”
The childlike awe on her face made me happy and sad. Happy that I was able to grant some magic and sad that it was all I could offer.
“Yes, and if you’re very good, he said he’d come visit you someday.”
Suspicion chased away her belief. “Are you sure?” She poked my leg. “Where’s your tail? I’ve never seen you with a tail, and we swim lots and lots.”
I didn’t know if I should keep up my fib or shatter her imagination with the truth.
So I did neither.
Brushing past her, I headed up the beach. “Come on, time for breakfast.”
“Hey, wait.”
I cringed against having to tell her the truth but she shot in front of me and pushed out her bottom lip. “Can we have rabbit food?” Pointing at the camp, she added, “Puffin is sick of clams.”
The mention of her cuddly toy fluttered my heart. “Wait. He’s sick of clams, or you’re sick of clams.”
“I’m sick of them.” Her face brightened. “But rabbit food would be good.”
“What on earth is rabbit food?”
“That’s what Daddy used to call it.”
I frowned. “Salads and veggies and things?”
She nodded.
“What’s your favourite veggie?”
She contemplated before answering. “Celery sticks.”
I couldn’t hide my surprise. “Celery sticks?”
“Yep with dip and stuff.”
I pushed aside my dripping hair. “I would’ve expected you to say you hated veggies and wanted chocolate.”
Pippa made a gagging noise. “Eww, no. I’m allergic to chocolate. Makes me itch and swell.”
Allergic.
Allergy.
My brain exploded with what the word meant.
Of course!
An allergic reaction was the body’s way of saying we couldn’t eat something. It wasn’t packets telling us ingredients or companies manufacturing food.
It was millennia of trial and error. Eat something and see the results. Try something and...see if there was a reaction.
Grabbing the little girl, I kissed her. “You’re a genius.”
Dashing up the beach, Pippa followed.
I held up my hand. “Stay here. Tell the others I won’t be long.”
The fire crackled, smouldering a little as it begged for new wood. The A-frame we’d fashioned with branches and Galloway’s rope guarded our belongings on the forest edge. The shady shelter was handy during the day, but it wasn’t practical to sleep in.
It was too small.
Moving past Galloway, he continued sleeping. Conner, too. Along with getting used to sleeping outside, we also slept deeply. As if living in the wide open vastness drained us faster than elsewhere.
Not looking back to see if Pippa obeyed, I slipped on my flip-flops and dashed into the forest.
My feet had grown tougher the past weeks. The hot sand scorched my soles and pricks from twigs leathered my delicate skin. But today, I didn’t know how far I would have to go. And I didn’t want to have to turn around before I was ready.
This could royally backfire.
I shoved the thought aside. I didn’t worry that I might die if I chose wrongly. That I might suffer tummy cramps and embarrassing after-effects of eating something my body didn’t agree with.
Because if I did this and it worked...
Food wouldn’t be so hard to come by.
Dashing to the first bush that looked innocuous and tasty, I tore off a leaf and brought it to my mouth.
“You can always test food another way. Care to answer what way that is?” My old biology teacher’s voice popped into my head. God, it’d been so long since I’d done biology—ever since I changed my mind from being a vet because I couldn’t stomach the thought of cutting up animals even if it was for their own good.
What had Professor Douglas said? Something about not eating it but...
The teacher tapped the blackboard. “Don’t eat it. That’s entirely too dangerous. Rub it on your skin first. Your body will let you know if it’s safe or not.”
Of course.
Doctors did that for new drugs and ointments. Before full use, they recommended a scratch test and a twenty-four hour wait.
I straightened out my left arm and dragged my fingernail across the underside.
Pain flared but I didn’t draw blood. I scraped deep enough to make my skin pink but not deep enough to do damage. I crushed the leaf between my fingers and rubbed it over the scratch—dousing my skin with foreign flavours.
If I remembered correctly, if in twenty-four hours my skin was hot or puffy, my body had rejected the leaf and it wasn’t safe to eat. However, if there was no reaction, it was okay to take to the next level and sample by eating.
My stomach growled at the thought of devouring something new.
Drawing an X on the soft mulchy ground, I moved toward another bush. This one smelled vaguely of thyme. Repeating the process, I scratched the inside of my right arm and smudged the pungent leaf over the irritated skin.
This time, I left an X with the Roman numeral I beside it.
Let the wait begin.
It would be the longest twenty-four hours of my life.
I stared longingly at the other undergrowth. If I tested each one tonight, then by tomorrow, I could have a smorgasbord of things to cook. But then, I wouldn’t know which set off a reaction if I suffered.
No, this is the only way. Two at a time and no more.
Striding back to camp, Galloway and Conner had woken and Pippa had filled the water bottles to share. My adopted family looked up as I returned.
“Where have you been?” Galloway’s intense blue eyes narrowed. “Pippa said you just ran off.”
“Oh she did, did she?” I scowled at Pippa, faking annoyance. “I hope she didn’t tell you anything else.”
The little girl shook her head. “Nuh uh. I did what you said. I waited and told them you’d gone. That’s it.”
My lips curled at how literal she was. She hadn’t quite captured the knack of sarcasm yet. “Well, I’m glad that you kept my secret about you know what and where I was with you know who this morning.”
A smile split her lips, catching my mention of our magical moment of mermaids.
“Wait.” Conner poked his sister. “What secret?”
Pippa stuck up her nose. “Not telling.”
“Go on, Pippi. You can tell us.” Galloway joined in, tickling the girl, making her squeal. “Not going to stop until you tell us.”
I laughed, moving to sit close by.
Galloway didn’t let up, drawing giggles and happy noises from her. To her credit, she didn’t break and she managed to escape Galloway’s hands and run.
I opened my arms. She barrelled into me, her tiny body trembling with exertion. “Never. I don’t tell secrets!”
I kissed her cheek. “Good for you, Pip. You tell ‘em you’re not a tattler.”
Her happy smile undid me. The fact she’d found some sort of joy here...that was priceless. Suddenly, her arms wrapped around my neck; she buried her face in my hair. “I love you, Stelly.”
Tears instantly sprang to my eyes.
She loved me.
My hug turned to steal; I crushed her to me. “I love you, too, Pippi.”
My eyes drifted over her head, meeting Galloway’s. He stood with every complex severity of our situation along with a faraway wish on his face. His mouth pursed, eyes bright, chin cocked with emotion.
I fell.
Staring at him.
I fell.
Harder and harder, deeper and deeper.
The way he watched me. The way he made me feel.
I couldn’t deny what my heart and body wanted any longer. I couldn’t lie that I wasn’t terrified of what I felt for him. This wasn’t an opportunist fling because of our circumstances. It was a true connection between two people who happened to be thrown together by fate.