Page 8 of Stranded

RONAN

So far,my experience on Maple Island has only confirmed that I should never apply for Survivor.

I don’t know how to build a beach hut, start a fire, or swim more than ten feet without a hot lifeguard’s supervision. I could find a stranger in a random tent to ask for help… but that would mean taking the risk of serial killers all over again.

No way am I spending a night sleeping on the beach wearing nothing—or as close as legally possible to it, anyway.

I’m shivering in the cool ocean breeze, so I zip up my hoodie again, folding my arms tightly around my midriff.

“Okay, Ronan. Think,” I whisper aloud as I pick my way back up the rocky shore where it’s a little warmer. There’s always someone nearby—even in those stupid survival shows… “Oh! The ranger station!”

I rush back the way I came, toward the big, bird-poo-covered map at the top of the hill.

The rangers could give me a ride! Or an emergency blanket and a tent, at least. Even if they’re going to laugh at my whole story.

I came here on the last ferry for a hot Grindr date, but someone else turned out to be catfishing me…

My cheeks burn at how stupid it sounds, even in my head. I’ve gotta make up something better than that.

No fucking way can I tell them the truth.

It’s not that I’m ashamed of the hot Grindr date. Only that I was stupid enough to rely on anyone else—especially a stranger—to take care of me.

Well, I’ve learned that lesson.

I’m looking after myself from now on. And tonight, that means swallowing my pride and asking for help… even if it means making a total ass of myself.

I’ll find the ranger station, give them the saddest lost puppy eyes of my life, and then worry about how to kill my roommates?—

Wait.

I can’t see the water from the hill that leads to the wharf, but I just heard something. My heart leaps damn near out of my throat as I catch my breath and listen.

It’s an engine sound. And I swear it’s getting louder.

“Holy shit!”

I sprint up the hill, my thighs burning as I curse my allergy to the campus gym.

“Come on,” I breathe out when I finally make it to the top of the hill. “Please be my saviour.”

I can see movement. A candy-striped pink awning, lit up by the glow of a… headlight? Or whatever the fuck you call the lamp on the bow.

To me, it’s a beacon of mercy.

This isn’t the boat I took to get here… but itisthe ferry that goes to Sunrise Island. And at this point, I’d take a stand-up paddle board.

“Here! Come here!” I’m jumping up and down and waving my arms in the dark, yelling to someone who’s getting deafened by that old engine.

Real good strategy there. For fuck’s sake, Ronan. Just get your ass down to them!

Breathless with excitement—and, to be honest, that stupid hill—I fumble with the heavy iron gate. I wrench it open and trot down the steep ramp to the dock below as the gate bangs closed behind me.

I didn’t have to worry about flagging the boat down; regardless of the schedule printed on peeling white paint above the gates, it’s clearly heading straight here.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god,” I breathe out.

Silence rings in my ears as the engine suddenly cuts out, while the boat keeps travelling toward the dock with alarming momentum.

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