Adrift

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Adrift Page 10

by K. M. Galvin


  I’m leaning over, scooping water into our pot, when I hear a whooshing sound. Standing up, I close my eyes to listen harder. It sounds like it’s coming from the south. Turning towards it, I shade my eyes and try to see what’s making the sound.

  When it crests over the trees, the pot falls uselessly to the ground, spilling water everywhere. I’m frozen in disbelief before I mentally shake it off and turn to run back to the beach.

  “East!” I scream anyway, knowing he can’t hear me, but maybe he can hear the helicopter. I wave my hands over my head, screaming East’s name as I run, trying to get the helicopter’s attention.

  In my haste, I trip over a branch and fall to the ground, hitting it hard enough to stun me.

  “No!” I sob when the helicopter disappears from my sight. I pull myself back up and take off running, now at a limp. I reopened the cut on my leg and my shoulder throbs where I landed on it.

  I run as fast as I can, my breathing coming out in desperate gasps as my lungs work harder than they have before. I’m so fucking far away. Please, East, see it coming. Use the last flare.

  Please, God, please!

  A whistle sounds and I see the red glare fly above the tree line. I skid to a halt, wincing as my threadbare shoes offer no protection against the ground, and hold my breath. My nails dig into the meat of my palm and I pray, something I’ve found consistently useless in my life.

  And it’s useless now.

  The glare sinks back down, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake. The buzz of the helicopter propellers fades away the further it distances itself from us. How? How did our last flare go unnoticed? How did they not see the sign on the beach?

  My stiff fingers unfurl and I hold my breath to fight the scream ready to rip out of my throat. I shove it all the way down, turning around to pick up the pot I dropped in my desperation. I cling to the numbness and return to fill our pot. If this defeat is weighing me down, I can’t imagine East right now.

  I take my time returning to camp. There’s no rush. A hysterical giggle erupts from my throat and I close my mouth, biting my lips to prevent another. It really wouldn’t do to start laughing to myself. People will think you’re nuts, Taylor.

  “I mean, look at everyone, Taylor!” I yell, furious tears running down my dusty face.

  No one is ever going to find us. No one. This is it. It’s just us and the sandflies. After…after last night, I thought maybe.

  Maybe!

  So stupid.

  My feet sink into the sand and my muscles burn as I head back. Dusk is already rushing towards us and I can see the flicker of our fire in the distance. Get it together, girl. If you’re mad, he’s furious. After all, he actually has something to go back to.

  I return to our camp and find it empty. Groaning, I set the water on the fire and go to our collection of firewood to put another handful of sticks on.

  “East?” I call out, but the sound of waves and the chirp of insects are my only answer.

  I push back the makeshift door of our tarp and find the shelter empty. Stomach growling, I throw some clams from our stash onto the fire.

  Hours pass, the clams are long gone, the sun is hiding behind the horizon, but I stay up. Waiting for him. I’m way past the point of concern and firmly in worried territory. I don’t go looking for him because I can’t see anything anyway; he took the fucking flashlight. I thought about making a torch, but everything would burn too quickly or is something we need too much to burn.

  My head rests in my hands and I lightly scratch my scalp, beyond exhausted. I doze in this position, knees bent, elbows on knees and head in hands when I hear rustling behind me. Tensing, I decide to stay where I am. Let him come to me.

  I can feel him when he enters our camp; it’s like this strange awareness of everything around me, but mostly I become hyperaware of myself. Wondering what he sees, what he’s thinking. If I didn’t hear him moments before, I’d still know the second he was near.

  “Taylor,” he says quietly above me.

  I stay still. I’m afraid to look at him. I don’t want him to see the loss of hope on my face, but mostly I don’t want to see it on his. He’s always maintained his belief that we would be found. It is only a matter of time. That’s what he always said. But someone flew right the hell over us, with all our attempts to draw attention and they didn’t see. They didn’t see. We’re invisible. No one knows we’re here; it’s been so long everyone probably thinks we’re dead.

  This is it.

  This is it for us. All we have until our bodies give up. How long can we live off small shellfish and fruit? It’s not enough; it’s not enough—

  “Look at me,” he says urgently.

  I gasp a breath and turn to look at him; he’s crouched down beside me, hands resting between his knees. The look on his face is wretched torment. My eyes burn with unshed tears, but I maintain eye contact. His eyes are glassy, red, and full of pain.

  “They flew right over us, East,” I whisper, “right over us.”

  “I wasn’t fast enough with the flare. I was taking a nap, waiting for you. I wasn’t fast enough—”

  “Stop,” I interrupt, grabbing his hand.

  “Next time,” he says in a rush, “next time I won’t screw up. I’ll be faster.”

  “We don’t have any more flares!” I rip my hand from his and stand up. East mirrors my movements warily. “There won’t be a next time, don’t you get it?”

  His face crumples, but Easton rallies. It’s like watching a war go on inside him. He moves closer but doesn’t touch me. “You cannot give up. You are not allowed to give up.”

  “It’s over!” I yell, shoving him away from me, but he’s right back in my face.

  “No, it’s not!” he growls in my face.

  “Easton, give it up!”

  He pulls me to him, mouth pressed to my ear. “You don’t give up until you’re dead. We are not done yet.”

  Our breaths echo loudly into the night as we glare at one another. I don’t know why I’m so mad. I expected him to be beaten, was ready for it. Ready for the devastation. He’s upset, sure, sad and mad at the lost opportunity.

  When he doesn’t back down, I fall into his arms. He’s like this wall of strength and I just take and take. He allows it. He almost begs me to lean on him, so when I finally do he pulls me into his arms so he surrounds every part of my body.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologize softly, embarrassed by my anger.

  “Don’t be sorry. You’re justified to feel this way.”

  “How do you keep going? How do you never stop hoping?” I whisper brokenly.

  East tightens his arms around me. “I have no choice, my family—”

  I pull away, turning my back to him. Of course. It’s easy to keep fighting when you have something to fight for. It’s also easy to give up when you don’t. East rests his chin on the crown of my head and pulls me back to him. “You’re not alone, Taylor. Not anymore. You have me.”

  For how long? I wonder, sinking into him again.

  THE NEXT MORNING, I STRETCH lazily and take in East’s naked body as he feeds the fire. He’s glorious like this, stripped of everything but himself. Skin bronzed, muscles clearly defined, black hair glinting in the early morning sunlight.

  “Morning.” I smile when he turns around, giving me quite a view from the front. Then he squats in front of the opening of our tarp and ruins it. “Easton, have some self-awareness. That is not a good look.”

  He glances down quickly and barks a laugh. “Oops.”

  Leaning over to his side of our makeshift bed, I grab his shorts and toss them at him before grabbing his shirt and shrugging it on. It falls just below my ass but offers enough coverage. Crawling out to join him, I see that he’s already boiled some water and prepared breakfast.

  “You didn’t go get water in the nude, did you?” I smirk, accepting the leaf of food from him.

  He shrugs and takes a seat. “Maybe.”

  “Since when did you get
so comfortable, Tarzan?”

  “A little over forty-eight hours ago.” He raises a brow as he pops a piece of fruit in his mouth.

  I squint at him. “Huh. Interesting because that’s about the time we—”

  “Yup.” He grins cockily, popping the P.

  “Strutting around in the nude might be a poor idea to tempt me. Especially considering you’ll get sunburned in some interesting places.”

  “Good point,” he agrees, chewing. “What are your plans for today?”

  Plans for today…it’s a very natural, enjoying breakfast together question. Well, it would be, if we weren’t deserted on an island.

  “I was thinking of hiking up to the creek, getting some water. Probably grab some firewood and then bathe.” You know…your basic survival things.

  East nods thoughtfully. “Would you mind helping me with something before you bathe?”

  “What is it?” I wipe my sticky hands on my leaf.

  “Since we have no more flares, I was thinking we could make another huge fire. Something that will give off a lot of light in the night and smoke in the day since our other one was killed by the rain.”

  I squint at him and sigh. “You never give up.”

  “Come on, it’ll be quick.” He smiles, jumping to his feet.

  Famous last words.

  It is, in fact, not quick. It is the opposite of quick. Instead it takes days. Four days, actually, if we want to be precise. East wanted it very large, which meant finding as much firewood as possible. Mostly finding small, dead, skinny trees to knock over or ones that have already fallen over. Lugging them back to the beach took us nearly an entire day, and that was only the first batch. For two days we collected wood.

  By day four, I’m glaring constantly at the little liar.

  “Taylor,” he drawls my name out, laying another log on the pile. We’ve worked hours to build this giant teepee-like structure.

  Ignoring him, I grab another big rock and throw it around the edge; working on my wall, I’ve been building to contain it.

  “Tay,” he calls again, annoyance clear in his tone.

  Grumbling under my breath, I walk up to the tree line and grab another rock. Like he has any room to be annoyed. It’s fucking hot, we’ve been in the sun all day, and we don’t have near enough food to be wasting calories like this. All arguments I’ve made, but he counters continually with, “It’ll be worth it.”

  It’s like he’s on this mission to make the Guinness World Record for biggest fire.

  What if it gets windy and the fire gets blown into the trees? We’ll burn the entire fucking island down. I’ve seen what happens with wildfires in the Northwest. Shit can burn quickly and hop over interstates with wind.

  Or…

  Oh my God, or what happens if it rains again? We are in the freaking tropics. It’s hurricane season.

  I throw the rock on the ground, kicking up sand everywhere. This all seems so fruitless. But I do it. I’ll do anything for him. Because he’s all I have and if getting him off this island will make him happy, then that’s what I’ll do.

  “Baby,” he cajoles, coming up behind me and wrapping me in his arms. It should be romantic, but we’re both covered in sweat and it’s a thousand degrees out here.

  “Leave me alone, Easton.” I wiggle, but he holds tight, turning me in his arms.

  “I hate when you say my full name.” He nuzzles my temple.

  “Easton. Easton, Easton, Easton—”

  He laughs before planting a kiss on my lips. I squeal in outrage and rip my mouth away from his. “Don’t kiss me when I’m mad at you!”

  “Why are you mad?” The confusion on his face has me sputtering. I try to pull away but he refuses to let me go. “No, you’ve been pulling away every day since the helicopter. What’s going on?”

  “East, you said this wouldn’t take a long time. We’re spending days on this idea of yours. Something that could be undone in a matter of minutes.”

  “At least it gives us something to do.”

  “East!” I yell in frustration before collapsing exhausted against him.

  He lifts me up in his arms easily, something that should be heartwarming but only shows how much weight I’ve lost. I’ve done my best to make sure East gets the most to eat. He’s much bigger than me and has, for the most part, taken all the hardest jobs. I skipped meals, ate smaller portions, and drank less water in order to make sure he had enough.

  I always had enough to survive, but even with that, my weight loss has been startling. Even Easton, with as much as I’ve sacrificed, has slimmed down from his once healthy musculature to a kind of lean that worried even him.

  “You weigh practically nothing, Taylor,” he observes as if he’s reading my thoughts.

  “Probably because I’m burning all my calories building a mountain of fire.” I pout.

  He looks down at me, concerned. “Are you sick?

  “No, I’m just hot, annoyed, and tired. I still haven’t had that bath I wanted. I’m so tired at the end of the day, I fall asleep the second I lay my head down.”

  Easton pivots from his path to our camp and walks right into the ocean. “You want a bath; you’ll get a bath. Anything you want.”

  He launches me into the water and I barely have time to inhale before my butt is bouncing off the sand at the bottom. I push up with my hands and come up sputtering, “Easton VanHouten!”

  East rips off his shirt and tosses it on the beach before joining me. “C’mere.”

  He lifts me slightly out of the water and I wrap my legs around his waist, arms wrapping around his as he lifts my shirt off, revealing my nakedness. Though the water is already warm this morning, my nipples harden instantly as they brush against his chest.

  He walks us out a little further so the water hits him almost mid-chest.

  “We should head back closer to the beach,” I worry my lip, remembering we aren’t the only ones in the water.

  “I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promises, dropping a quick kiss on my mouth.

  “That’s sweet, but if a shark comes and bites my ass I doubt there’s much you can do.”

  “Baby, relax,” he says quietly, adjusting my position so I can feel his erection against my ass.

  Nuzzling into his neck, I grin against his warm skin. “I see shrinkage isn’t an issue for you.”

  He grins cockily and spins me slowly in a circle. “Can you blame me? You’re sitting naked on my jock.”

  “Oh, ew!” I gag. “Don’t talk like that! You are an adult man with a kid.”

  He chuckles, but his eyes dim slightly at the mention of his son. Watching him closely, I kiss him softly. “You’ll see him again.”

  East gasps and I feel his chest expand rapidly as he tries to control his emotions. “I miss him.”

  I wrap my arms around him, holding on tight. “I know you do.”

  “I’m sorry, Taylor. I’m sorry I couldn’t get that helicopter to see us,” he says in a rush, squeezing me tightly.

  I lean back as much as I can with him holding me to close and frame his face before gently kissing his cheek. East’s chest expands as he inhales and I move to kiss his other cheek, but he tilts his head and captures my lips instead.

  I lean into the kiss, letting it move through me until I’m no longer of aware of the water lapping at our skin or the heat of the sun on my shoulders. All I can feel is his body and taste the salt on his tongue.

  It takes little effort to line up against his erection and I slowly sink down onto his cock. I rip my mouth away to get some air; the feel of him inside me has my head tipping back and I stare up at the sky. East takes the opportunity to kiss my neck, hands sinking into my hair.

  It feels different this time. The first time was all-consuming lust, hands everywhere, mouths fused together. The times that followed, similar, but this… Does he know he’s making love to me?

  He rests his hands on my hips and gently moves me up and down on hi
s cock. Overcome, I collapse against him, letting him do all the work as I rest my head on his shoulder. I lick the water and sweat off his skin, sucking harder as he increases his speed.

  The burn starts much slower than the times before. Everything about this feels different; it feels too much and I hide my face in the crook of his neck as my orgasm rises lazily and washes me away. I gasp his name against his skin as my body clenches around him.

  “Taylor,” he cries softly, squeezing my ass before pulling out and following me over the cliff.

  Boneless, I give him my entire weight and we stay like this for a while, only leaving when the shadows of the trees reach out to the water and our skin chills in the shade. Nothing changed, but everything feels different now. Following him out of the water, my eyes caress his back and I hope to hell I’m not the only one who’s feeling this.

  I WAKE TO THE SOUND of thunder. I lie there for a moment, confused, and roll into East next to me. The air in the shelter is thick with humidity, but there’s a cool breeze. I listen to the trees as the wind zips through them and—

  There it is again. I blink open my eyes, staring up at the tarp as the first drops of water begin. Shit, our campfire is going to go out. Freaking rain. We should have built a removable shelter for the fire. I don’t know how we’re going to relight—

  “Oh my God!” I yell and shake East’s shoulder. “East! Easton wake up! The signal fire! It’s raining!”

  I don’t wait for him and run naked outside. No point in clothes; it’s raining. I run towards the bright light in the distance, not sure what I’m going to do when I get there. Maybe if I throw more wood on, it won’t go out?

  Within seconds I’m drenched, the warm rainwater making it harder to run in the sand. I hear footsteps behind me, then a flash as East runs passed me in only his shorts. When he reaches the giant signal fire, he stands silhouetted against the weakening light and I slow to a walk, watching as he sinks to his knees.

  Goddammit!

 

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