Page 9 of Stranded

“You awake?” I turn my head to see Bower watching me.

“Yeah.” I glance down at my watch, which was a failed prototype of sorts for a new technology our company had been working on. It didn’tdo what we wanted, but it still worked as a smart watch, and apparently it’s waterproof, too.

“Seven-fifteen.” I lift my head and glance out the hole to the calm ocean. “Looks sunny out, too. Ready to go see what this island has in store for us today?”

He groans as he gets on his hands and knees. “Not really, I’m starving though, where’s the breakfast buffet when you need it?”

I chuckle as I follow him out, pushing to my feet from the sand. I turn towards the island and gasp. “Holy shit, what—Where did all of this come from?” I ask, my wide eyes looking at an array of fresh fruit on the ground behind our raft in the shade.

“Maybe it was my little lemur buddy?” Bower asks, dropping to his knees and grabbing a mango. “Fuck this is good!” he mumbles around a mouthful. I sit with him and we feast on the food. I know we should probably ration it, but right now, I’m starving and don’t care. Besides, if fresh fruit grows here, I’m sure there’s more to be found.

There are mangos, something that look similar to a plum, guavas, prickly pears and lychees. We silently feast, watching the ocean for any sign of life.

“Should we build a fire, or make a giant SOS sign out of sticks or something?” Bower asks, as he grabs a fresh lychee and digs in.

“Probably. The fire would have to be huge to be seen from far away, though, and we don’t want to risk burning down the island. But if a plane gets close enough, it could work. We should set it up on the beach here. We could build it pretty big without risking the jungle,” I tell him, considering our options as I speak. “Why don't we investigate the interior a bit first? Hopefully, we can find fresh water and a place to set up camp. I’m not convinced the beach is the safest place to sleep in a storm.”

“I’m pretty stiff from laying in the sand. What are the chances there’s an abandoned five-star hotel out here somewhere?”

“It’d say your odds are slim to none,” I tell him, finishing off the last guava. “We need to thank your little friend for our breakfast.”

“Yeah, I wonder where he is?” Bower asks, turning his gaze to the trees.

When we finally finish eating, we start to gather all the wood we can find at the edge of the jungle. “Do you want to keep collecting more, and I’ll start laying out SOS?” I ask, realizing this is going to take some time.

“Sure, at least I can be in the shade a bit, it’s bloody hot out here.” He pulls off his shirt and throws in on his bag in passing and I do the same. I don’t want to get burned, but at least I wasn’t pasty white to begin with. My shirt was already drenched with sweat, anyway.

It takes us a few hours of hard work, but finally we have a large SOS sign and a giant stack of wood we can light if we see a plane. Not that we had a way to light it.

“I don’t suppose you have a lighter on you?” I ask, staring at it with concern.

“Fuck, no. I didn’t even think about that. Can’t we like, rub sticks together or something?”

“Haven’t you ever watched Survivor? Those contestants practice before going on that show, and most of them spend hours trying to light a fire. If we see a plane coming, we need a flame, fast. This whole thing needs to be blazing within minutes.”

“Maybe we can find something useful in there,” he says, pointing to the jungle behind me.

I sigh before scrubbing my hand through my hair. “We may as well take a look. I’m ready for some shade anyway, I’m gonna put a dry shirt on.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

I kneel down and open my bag, rummaging through, looking for my favorite shirt. “Hmm, where are you?”

“You can’t find a clean shirt?”

“It’s my favorite one, I can’t find it.”

“Do you need to borrow one, I have another?”

“Nah, I got a spare, I was just looking for that specific one. I must have left it… somewhere,” I mumble, frowning as a pull on a clean t-shirt. I know I had it with me, I wore it when we left San Francisco. Did I leave it somewhere in Perth?

I suggest we take our bags this time and Bower agrees. I look around, hoping to find a path that will miraculously appear, but in the end we decide we’ll just have to push through the dense jungle. “Fuck!” I swear, when I’m whacked in the face with a branch.

“Ouch!” Bower cries out, being attacked by the same foliage as me. A small thump to our side pulls us to a stop and we both look to our left. “What was that?” he whispers.

“I’m not sure, we should go look,” I whisper back, unsure of my decision. We carefully push through the hanging branches, vines and bushes and about twenty feet later, I step out into the middle of a path. Looking to my left, I can see it reaches the beach, only a few leaves covering the entrance. “Son of a bitch,” I say in defeat, realizing we missed the path and were pushing through the dense jungle for nothing.

Bower sees what I’m looking at and swears. “Shit. Well, at least we have a path to take now,” he says excitedly, looking in the other direction. It weaves around a corner so we can’t see very far, but we have no choice but to take it. I wasn’t eager to leave this path now we’ve found it.

---