She trembled beneath his touch. He broke his kiss but his lips lazily explored the contours of her face and neck while his hands continued to caress the softness of her form. She felt flushed, scared by the small flame leaping through her, and scared even more when his hand reached to the small of her back, pressing her against the hard length of his desire. She stiffened dramatically, instinctively knowing and yet not knowing. "No..." She tried to twist away. "No... please, I—"
"Shhh, sweetheart," he whispered, keeping her gently to him as he looked into the terrified gray pools of her eyes. "Yes I want you, perhaps more than I ever wanted a woman but no," he almost smiled, "I'm not going to take you amongst twenty other people. Nor," he added, brushing his lips over her forehead, "will I have you with this fear in your eyes."
She bit her lips, waiting helplessly, afraid he was going to kiss her again, but suddenly Beau raced up from the forest. Excited, the dog stopped in front of Justin and dropped a dead bird at his feet, obviously as an offering. The first sign that life would not be as she had known it. He barked again, pleased with his catch and Justin stood to his feet as everyone else began to wake up.
The first day began.
Christina pulled herself into a tight ball to hide her naked figure. The torn chemise and torn petticoat, all made of thin cotton material, barely covered her thighs. She had nothing on beneath. While her hair was still partially braided, it fell in a mass of disastrous tangles. She noticed various cuts and bruises and she felt hungry and stiff. She first looked around to find something to cover herself in.
The men gathered around Justin, while Hanna and Elsie came immediately to her side, joyously exclaiming over the fact that she was well, that they had all survived.
"Christy, you had us worried so when you wouldn't wake, but Justin kept sayin' you would be fine, but that 'ead injuries sometimes take time and to leave you be, but—"
"But we didn't know," Elsie broke in. "Kept thinkin' that a wrap in the 'ead kin do a soul in—you know, leave 'im without their wits but you're fine now, aren't you
Christina smiled at their concern, nodding. "Yes, I'm fine. I don't even think I really did suffer a head injury." A hand reached to her head and, save for a certain heaviness, she felt no pain there. "I think I just fainted."
"Well, little wonder. 'Twas a terror! Never thought we would live to see this day, but 'ere we are!" Hanna spread her arms to embrace a day she never thought to see.
A smile lifted to Christina's eyes and suddenly she laughed too. "Yes, we have been spared!" The same joy at having survived certain death suddenly filled her; she was alive and she was glad! "But how are you? You two look—"
She was about to say awful. Hanna had on only a tattered chemise and petticoat too, though the full skirt of her petticoat was still intact. The young lady's plump figure was noticeably thinner from the ordeal and various cuts and bruises marred her exposed skin too. The thick red curls clustered in a riot of tangles.
"—like we've been through 'ell!" Elsie finished for her, looking every bit as bad as Hanna, though she had both a petticoat and a chemise in one piece. "But we 'ave. There's a stream back there," she pointed. "We should wash up first thing."
The two women jumped up and Hanna reached a hand to Christina. She shook her head. "I can't," she whispered, glancing down at her bare form, once again acutely conscious of her nakedness. "I can't... I would just die..."
"Oh, Christy, we're all 'alf naked. Even the men. There's nothin' to be done. Jacob says first thing Justin will do is try to bring up as much of the ship out there as possible and maybe then we'll 'ave some clothes but now—now we're all left with w'at nature gave us."
Christina shook her head. She simply could not walk among all these people without clothes. She would die...
"Come on, Christy, 'twon't kill you, I pro—"
"You 'ush," Elsie suddenly said to Hanna. "She's not like us. She's a lady and she's 'as a lady's modesty." Christina started to protest but Elsie stopped her. "I have my chemise, you kin 'ave me petticoat."
"Oh no, I couldn't." She shook her head.
"Yes ye can and ye will."
Christina was too poor to turn down Elsie's generosity. She was a good deal taller than Elsie and so once the petticoat was on, it fitted midway between her knees and ankles but a least she could move about now. She knew she looked a curious sight but then they all looked curious, each person wore signs of having survived a holocaust.
There was much work to be done. Justin ordered two men on a journey around the circumference of the island in opposite directions to ascertain its size. Five men were ordered into the interior of the island, each taking different directions. These scouts were to report back on what they found, with the further instruction to keep an eye out for places that would make a good camp, perhaps caves or an area with natural barriers and protection, and one near a fresh water supply. The rest of the men were ordered to gather foodstuffs, whatever could be found. Which was no problem, for the beach was littered with debris, much of which was edible fish.
The arduous task of retrieving things from the sunken ship would begin as soon as the water calmed, probably on the morrow. The venture's success would depend on the depth of the water in which the ship had sunk. Justin was hopeful, for the ship had crashed on a barrier reef, probably in thirty or forty feet of water, perhaps less. They would soon see.
Single file, the three women walked along the narrow bank of the stream and Christina's eyes widened in stages to take in the surroundings. She had never seen anything like it. Washed by frequent rains, the island gave birth to lush tropical foliage: trees, ferns, and plants so dense as to render much of the island impenetrable. Crowding every space, ivy clung to anything with height, hanging like blankets from branches of trees. Exotic plants and ferns fought for sunlight and grew higher than her head. A haunting dark green shaded everything and the air was thick and moist with the scent of the fecund earth. She had never heard such sounds either, exotic jungle sounds from every direction seemed to rise from the very earth itself.
Following Jacob's instructions, they continued along the bank of the stream until they came to a small clearing at the foot of a steep cliff. A small waterfall fell into a deep pool of water. Huge granite boulders surrounded one side of the pool while trees almost hidden in vines and ferns grew on all other sides.
" 'Tis paradise, like... like 'eaven," Hanna whispered, afraid to break the sanctity around them.
"Yes," Christina whispered too. "Like the original Garden of Eden."
They had passed fallen trees, torn vines, and ferns on their way, and debris floated in the pool, but even the fierceness of the storm could not destroy the prolific garden life on the island.
Elsie, too afraid of water, remained on the bank but Hanna and Christina removed their clothes and stepped cautiously into the shallow pool. "Oh, it feels so good." Christina smiled, lowering, then disappearing beneath the surface to wash away the sticky saltiness on her skin and hair. Hanna followed bravely while Elsie watched on nervously, contenting herself to remain on the safe shore of the bank and merely splashed water on her skin.
The quick bath was invigorating and, once out, Christina quickly struggled back into her chemise. There was nothing to dry off on and thin material clung to her wet frame like an extra layer of skin. She wrung out her wet mat of hair, twisted it tightly as possible into a knot on her head, and secured it with a small twig. It fell loose with her first movement. She gave up.
Many things occurred to her as once. They had no comb or brush—surely she would have to cut her hair—but that was hardly the extent of the things they would live without. There were no pots, pans, baskets, or buckets, no tools of any kind, save for the men's swords and knives—no shelter, clothes, medicine, or even bandages and, as her stomach reminded her, no food either.
They would be like savages. Four women and almost twenty men. The ratio gave her a moment's fear, for instinctively she knew it bode ill. What was it her
father used to say... "Man is separated from his savage roots only by a thin veil of civilization..."
Was it not civilization that protected women?
Yes and now there was no civilization.
Elsie and Hanna were each lost to their own musings and Christina, on her hands and knees, stared intently into the dark pool of water, suddenly seeing an unpleasant future.
Justin wanted her as a man wants his wife. She was helpless to stop him. How could she fight such a man? How could she fight a man who owned the strength to break a man's legs, to fight dozens of equally strong and able-bodied men? A man who tossed her hundred or so pounds over his shoulder as though she were but a feather pillow. A man who led hundreds of hardened men already living by the savage rule of might?
No, she could not fight him. When he held her she very nearly swooned by the strength radiating from his tall frame, the power in his muscled arms, that warmth of his. And even if she had equal physical strength, she would lose the battle with him. The sheer force of his will would overwhelm the most formidable opponent...
Oh, she hated her helplessness! She was a pathetic creature indeed, too timid to raise her voice yet alone her fists. Not that any action would prove anything but futile pitted against him. How she would love, though, to tell him what she thought of him. She had fallen in love with him, she knew, but only a small part of a much larger picture. The real Justin was forceful, cruel and—
"Mean!" she said out loud, suddenly slamming her fists into the water.
Elsie and Hanna exchanged confused glances. "Christy?" Hanna asked.
Christina looked at her two friends, both startled by her outburst. The haunting sounds of the jungle seemed to dim, sounding like an eerie echo and nothing but nothing stirred. Apprehension caused fear and her fear looked for a concrete source that wasn't there. Alerted, Christina looked past them and stared into the forest beyond. It was not real, yet real, and she imagined she could see him. Elsie and Hanna turned around too and stared, feeling the exact same thing. A ghost was watching them from the forest.
"Who's there?" Elsie asked after a frightened pause.
Only the breeze echoed in the silence.
"Jacob?" Hanna ventured. "Jacob, is that you teasing us?" Her realization that it was not Jacob came as a chill up her spine. She felt it; they all felt it, a certain wrongness... like evil. She turned frightened eyes to her friends. "Me bones are chilled to the core like... like I've seen a—"
"Ghosts!" Elsie put to words what she felt as she jumped to her feet and grabbed both Christina's and Hanna's hands. They never considered it, and, acting as one, they were suddenly running, running as though a demon from hell chased them.
The jungle flew past them, ferns and branches grabbed at them, scratching and cutting their bare feet and still they ran, knowing only a collective fear that caused the instinct of flight Hanna stumbled and Christina fell into her, recovering quickly to help Hanna up. Elsie stopped just ahead and turned. From the dark shadows behind them came an imagined sound of laughter, mocking, echoing with the sounds of the jungle.
Christina froze as blood pounded in her temples. She looked at her friends to confirm her terrified senses. And Elsie did so with a panicked, "Run!"
Looking like madwomen, they burst on the beach and dropped to their knees, breathless and panting. Christina could not catch her breath, but suddenly she started laughing and laughing. Fear melting into near hysterics, the situation suddenly tickling her funny bone to the core of her being. "I don't believe it! Here we are, marooned on a deserted island, a thousand miles from the nearest civilization, from the nearest person and we—we think we're being watched by—"
"Ghosts!" Hanna added and suddenly laughed too. "I even imagined I heard a wicked laugh but 'twas you, Elsie." She turned an accusing finger. "You thought it was—"
"Me?" Elsie cried in incredulous protest. "Hanna May Haley, in all my days I've not ever seen a soul run as fast as you, like you was chased by the very devil, you were..."
The men stared at the women curiously. Justin turned over a piece of fish cooking over a fire and rose, moving quickly to them. Christina had turned onto her back, staring up at the gray sky, simply amazed at how ridiculous she had been. Beau, feeling their excitement and thinking it as a signal of play, half bounced, half ran to her and lowered to his haunches, barking and licking her face affectionately, causing more peals of giggles as she tried to fight him off.
Justin stared at the sight of her like that. It was not just that her dark gold hair spread like fire around her flushed face or her figure lay before him like an offering; the wet cotton material all but transparent. It was her laughter, the most innocently seductive sound he had ever heard.
He bent over and lifted her to her feet. "Christina?" he asked curiously.
"Oh, Justin!" She clutched her bosom dramatically. "You wouldn't believe what happened. We were washing by the pool back there." She looked into the forest, then back at him. "And suddenly—I don't know why—but we thought someone was watching us through the trees—"
"Like the devil or a ghost," Elsie added, "and then we started running, like... like it was chasin' us!"
Justin looked from Christina to the two others. Cajun had come behind him, and with a nod of Justin's head, Cajun turned and disappeared into the forest.
"Did you see anything?" he asked Christina.
His seriousness instantly subdued her. "Well no. How could we if there's no one on the island except us? That's what was so funny—"
"It's not funny," he interrupted. "I've assumed the island was uninhabited—most of these islands are— but I won't be certain until my men report back." He stopped short of sharing the rumors of cannibalistic savages and said instead, "Until I'm certain, none of you are to go anywhere without someone with you. Understood?"
Christina nodded, as did Elsie and Hanna.
"Good. There's plenty of fruit and fish over there," he said. "I'll be back in a while. In the meantime, see what you can do for Marianna. She's still in shock, and if you can't get her to eat, we'll have to start force-feeding her."
Justin followed Cajun into the forest. Christina turned to see Marianna still lying beneath the lifeboat. She had forgotten Marianna.
"Marianna?" she asked as she came to her side and knelt. Marianna lay perfectly still but with wide-open eyes that stared blankly ahead. "Marianna, can you hear me?"
"She's been like that since the storm," Elsie said, coming alongside Christina. "The poor girl. I daresay 'twas from seeing her friend die. Katie was her only friend, like a relation. So sad how many people died..."
The two fussed over Marianna for some time, trying to get a response but to no avail. Christina tore off a strip of her petticoat, soaked it in the stream, and gently washed Marianna's lifeless form, talking sweetly to her all the while, whether or not Marianna heard. Marianna's lean figure remained limp, the wide hazel eyes stared straight ahead, seeing nothing or seeing everything. So lost was Christina in her concern, she failed to notice Elsie had left to join the gathering by the fire.
"Oh my, she will get well again, won't she?" Christina asked out loud.
A deep male voice startled her from behind. "As with all of us, she rests in God's hands."
Christina turned to confront Cajun. He stood with his feet apart and his hands on his hips, an unnatural ease in his towering frame and wisdom in his dark liquid eyes. She thought again there was something so majestic, even magical about Cajun, a man who looked part savage, part the genie of her imagination.
"But surely with care and in time..." She stopped and, not understanding why she needed his confirmation of her hope, she searched his features. He remained silent, though, incapable of answering what was not known, incapable of condescending to lie to ease a woman's concern.
Finding no answer, she rose to stand next to him. "Is he also not well?" she asked, looking at a man curled up in a tight ball and still sound asleep under the lifeboat.
"No, he is not
well."
"Is there something we might do for him?"
"No," Cajun replied as a strange sadness filled his voice. "What must be done can only be done by Justin."
She looked at Cajun curiously, waiting for an explanation.
"For he," Cajun's gaze dropped to the pitiful sight, "is Justin's curse."
Christina's eyes shot to the man too, as though to see evidence of this, and when they returned to ask another question of Cajun, he was gone. She looked back at the sick man and felt a twinge of apprehension. What did he mean by that? Was this ill, helpless man Justin's enemy? Had he wronged Justin in some way?
She shivered and turned to join the gathering, suddenly not wanting an answer to her questions. A huge pit in the sand had been dug and filled with logs and branches and sizzling on the logs were a variety of different kinds of fish. She had had precious few opportunities to taste fish, and had never cared much for it, though now her mouth watered at the sight. She at once became acutely conscious of her hunger.
Jacob, Hanna, Elsie, and two other men, a blond-haired man named Eric and a dark-featured man with an Arabic name she could not pronounce, all speared pieces of the fish with twigs, plopping it sizzling into their mouths. Cajun, at her side, handed her a twig and smiled encouragingly.
"Go on, Christy, it's good," Hanna said.
"What kind is it," she asked, pointing to a flat piece of whitefish.
"I don't know," Jacob replied. "Tastes like bass, but it's not. This here is shrimp," he pointed, "and this is what one finds on a victor's table—it's called crab. These waters must be rich, for this is just what had washed up on the beach. No tellin' what we'll get once we set up some fishin' traps and nets."
It was absolutely delicious. She would have thought so even if she had not been so hungry but, because she was, the food was the finest fare she had ever enjoyed. The men had also gathered these orange melons or fruit—she did not know which—larger than a hand and sweeter and juicier than a peach. There were smaller green fruits, too, not as delicious but just as satisfying. And everything was washed down by the delicious coconut milk, which seemed in abundance.
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