Stranded with the SEAL

by Elana Johnson

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I knew lots of guys who believed in God. They said it was easier than not, especially seeing some of the stuff we see.”

  “I don’t think anyone’s going to find us,” she whispered, true worrying running through her now.

  Several long seconds passed before Justin said, “I don’t think so either.”

  She twisted in his arms. “We should go as soon as the boat is ready.”

  He looked down at her, and now the starlight glinted in his eyes. He was gorgeous, and she believed him when he said he could get them back to a populated island. “You think so?”

  “We could work all day tomorrow and set out at night,” she said. “Less time in the sun.”

  “Yeah,” he said, but doubt resided in his voice. “I’m worried I won’t be able to navigate as well at night.”

  “Sea, air, and land, right?” she asked. “You didn’t learn how to navigate by the stars.”

  “I did, yes,” he said. “SEAL training is two and a half years.”

  “Wow,” she said. “That’s crazy.”

  “It was intense,” he agreed. “Let’s see how tomorrow plays out. We need to make sure we have enough food and water, as well as adequate shelter.”

  “Okay.” She cuddled into his chest, his arm a much softer pillow than the logs. He pressed a kiss to her temple, and finally, she slept.

  The next day felt like water slipping through her fingers. She felt an inexplicable need to get off the island, so she worked at a feverish pace. Weaving fronds together for the whole morning left her with a canopy big enough to stretch from pole to pole, but then she and Justin couldn’t get it to stay up. The boat was too long, and it needed a pole in the middle.

  Justin worked on that, but there was nothing to lash it to. Not really. The bench where he needed to sit to row didn’t provide any height. They pulled it tight, thinking maybe if they just got it taut enough, the four corners would keep it up.

  As a few of the fronds ripped, he said, “Stop. Stop, stop, stop,” in his barking, military voice.

  Frustration roared through Iris. At him. At the stupid palm fronds. At this idiotic island.

  “I’ll fix it,” she said, dragging the canopy up the beach to the shade. Justin had been weaving bark into holders for the coconut shells. She didn’t see how they’d make it over the break with any water in them at all, but she didn’t say anything.

  Justin wasn’t stupid. He knew what it took to get over the break, and that they’d have only the filtration kit to make more water.

  She worked in the shade while he went for food. She ate when he told her to, the canopy still not ready. And when he said, “Let me do it for a few minutes, Iris,” she wanted to rage at something. Someone. Anyone. Anything.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said through clenched teeth. She walked away, her feet sinking into the looser sand along the tree line. When she was far enough away, she sank against a tree and let her tears come.

  She wasn’t even sure what she was so upset about. She’d been the one who wanted to wait until day seven. Something had shifted though, while she looked at those stars, and she needed to get off this island.

  Her mind wandered, and she wondered where she and Justin would be had he not hauled her over the side of the ship and into that lifeboat. She knew these were dangerous waters for her thoughts, but she let them swim around anyway, gaining momentum, until they had a whirlpool going in her brain.

  It was his fault they were out here. Everyone else was probably safe in Getaway Bay, rebooked onto a different cruise. And she’d been eating rambutan and dragon fruit for three days with sand everywhere, and very little drinking water. Honestly, if she never saw another piece of fruit again, she’d die happy.

  Her stomach cramped at the thought, and she wiped her eyes. Crying wouldn’t get her anywhere. It hadn’t when Eden was stranded up on the mountain. It hadn’t when her father had been diagnosed with cancer. It hadn’t when Orchid’s husband had died.

  She’d been through hard things before. She could do this too.

  You can do this, she told herself as she stood up and brushed sand from her shorts.

  Back at the shelter, Justin wrestled with the fronds, a look of pure determination drawing down his eyebrows. “How’s it going?” she asked, somewhat relieved they were giving him as much trouble as they did her.

  “I had to go back a bit,” he said. “I think if it’s a little longer, we can pull it tighter and have a better grip.” He wove faster than she did, and she decided not to take it personally. Soon enough, he stood up and glanced at her. “Let’s go try it.”

  She went with him down the beach, and positioned herself in the boat the way she had before. He moved to the back, because he was taller and could reach the tops of the poles even though the boat was slanted down.

  “You put yours in,” he said, and she fitted the poles through the holes in the palm fronds he’d made.

  “Okay,” she said, thinking they were getting a lot of practice doing things they probably wouldn’t have to do until they were married. She wasn’t sure what she thought of that, but she was pretty sure she could handle putting together an entertainment center with him after this.

  “I’m going to pull hard,” he said. “You push against the poles, okay?”

  “Okay.” She braced one had against each pole and pushed. He pulled, and he was so much stronger than her that the poles still bent. “They’re bending.”

  “It’s okay,” he said. “That’ll make it tighter when I let go.” He grunted behind her, and then he said, “Got it. You can let go.”

  She did and carefully ducked under the canopy and stepped out of the boat. “This is only going to give us shade when the sun is directly overhead,” she said, wishing she’d thought of it before.

  “I’m going to use the emergency blanket as a shield,” he said. “We can move it wherever we need to.”

  “Oh, okay.” Foolishness hit her, and she wanted to cry again. She wasn’t even sure why. She was grateful Justin was there with her, doing some of the hard work.

  He stretched his back and looked up into the sky. “Let’s load the food.”

  She helped him carry all the fruit they’d gathered to the boat. It was easily enough for a few days, and if she had to live on that boat with him that long, Iris wasn’t sure what she’d do. But she knew being on the water wasn’t as easy as living on the island, and she hoped he was right in saying they’d only be confined to the boat for twenty-four hours.

  Iris collected the water filtration system while Justin brought down the drinking water they’d collected. “We should drink this now,” she said. “I don’t think it’s going to make it over the break.”

  “Probably not,” he said, and he lifted one of the coconut shells to his lips. She drank as much as she dared to, and then she climbed in the boat, sitting where Justin told her to.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She nodded, sending up another prayer to whoever was listening. Justin pushed them into the water, and jumped into the boat, splashing warm water on her legs.

  “Here we go,” he said, setting his hands on the oars. She wished he didn’t sound quite so fatalistic, but as he rowed out into the waves, she understood why.

  It would be a freaking miracle if they got over this break without capsizing, losing all their food, and busting up their boat.

  A complete miracle.

  Chapter Ten

  Justin refused to focus further than ten feet in front of him. He didn’t want to see the way the waves crashed over the break, couldn’t stand to let himself doubt that they couldn’t get away from this island.

  Guilt pulled through him with the sharpness of a fishhook, and he had to make things right. He had to get them back to civilization.

  He pulled against the water, wishing it would just relax for one minute. Sixty seconds. Then he could get them over the break and back out into the open ocean. He’d have to row a lot t
o get them back where they needed to be, but he could do it.

  Sure, his muscles burned already, and the four days without adequate nutrition certainly wasn’t helping. But he was going to do this. He’d been in difficult and trying situations before. He’d spent two days in a hole in the desert, for crying out loud. He’d spent sixty hours confined in a submarine.

  He could get them over this break and back to Maui. He could, and he would. Justin had a mental space where he went when things were tough as a SEAL. He just needed to get inside that space, and he’d be fine.

  So he only looked ten feet in front of him. He took each swell as it came, and he ignored the pain in his shoulders and arms. There would be time for pain later. Right now, he needed to get them over the break.

  “Get in the bottom of the boat,” he commanded when he saw the whitewater ahead. The break. “Now.”

  Thankfully, Iris didn’t contradict him. Didn’t argue. She just got down. She held onto two of their coconuts and steadied herself in the boat. He dug his feet into the bench in front of him, using every ounce of strength he had.

  “One time,” he grunted. He would get them over the very first time. If he didn’t…well, he wasn’t sure he had the strength to try again.

  The water pushed him back violently, and he stroked against it, coming up to the break before the next wave. Halfway there, the waves pounded the boat back again. He groaned as he strained against an ocean full of water, but he could see paradise just on the other side of the break.

  Three more strokes. Then two. Then one.

  He made them quickly, pulling, pulling, pulling them over and into the open water.

  Relief hit him, and Iris said, “Justin, you’re a beast,” but he didn’t stop. The waves were still coming, and he didn’t need them shoved back into the rocks and getting their boat smashed to smithereens.

  He yanked on one side, putting the boat parallel to the break and he rowed as quickly as he could. He didn’t realize how much noise he was making until Iris said, “We’re clear, Justin.”

  “We’re not,” he said, still desperate to get farther from the break. “Those waves can take us right back to it.”

  “But we won’t go over.”

  “We could lose our boat,” he said, still positioning the boat where he wanted it. He pulled again, and then again, until he was satisfied they wouldn’t be taken back to the break and get smashed up.

  He relaxed, his fingers tight on the oars. He uncurled them, letting the pain flow through him now.

  “Did I keep us pretty much straight out?” He needed a drink, but he didn’t dare ask for one quite yet. Twisting, he looked over his shoulder to see the island behind him. Their beach was more or less right behind him, and he glanced up at the sun. It was after noon, as the sun was off to his right—to the west.

  “So I’ll keep the boat moving south,” he said, ducking back under the palm frond canopy. “The sun needs to stay on our right. That’s west.”

  “And at night?” she asked.

  “We keep moving away from the north star.” He said it so confidently, but it had been a while since Justin had had to use the stars to navigate. Even then, it had been a training mission, years ago. Over a decade.

  The boats and subs the SEALs used were equipped with all the latest technology to help them navigate to within inches of their targets.

  But he didn’t say any of that.

  He was the one who’d jumped off that cruise ship, maybe a bit prematurely, despite what the captain had said. And Justin was going to get them back to safety.

  By nightfall, their drinking water was gone. The sun wasn’t out to evaporate more, but Justin leaned over the side of the boat and filled the filtration bag anyway. Then, as soon as the orb came up in the morning, they could be making water.

  He settled back in the boat next to Iris, who hadn’t said much for the last several hours. Feeling humble and foolish, he put his arm around her. “I’m sorry I got us into this mess.”

  She looked up at him, and in the last rays of light, he saw that she had indeed blamed him for their tropical island adventure. But hadn’t she said she thought it was romantic about those people who’d gotten stranded and fallen in love?

  She had, but Justin knew they weren’t in love. He leaned down and kissed her anyway, and she let him. Seemed to enjoy it. She tucked herself into his arms and said nothing.

  He didn’t like it. The usually chatty Iris surely had something to say. But she remained silent, so he decided he could talk.

  “Remember how I told you about Heath? Well, one time, he was manning our rig, and a storm came up. The Indian Ocean can be cruel, though I suppose they all can be.” He gazed at the undulating water, keeping one hand on the oar on his right. He had the urge to check the stars every few seconds, but he refrained.

  The white tips of the water encouraged him to keep talking. “Anyway, before we knew it, we were in the midst of the squall. He had everyone hunker down, and as engine after engine went out, we thought that was it for us.”

  He chuckled, and Iris looked up at him. “I wasn’t laughing then,” he said. “But Heath did some crazy stuff. And he didn’t hesitate. He just acted. He gave orders. We followed them.” Justin was almost desperate for her to understand. “That’s why I grabbed you and took you overboard with me,” he said. “I really thought that cruise ship was going down.”

  “I know,” she said, her voice deathly quiet in the night surrounding them.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “The captain said to evacuate. I mean, I have hearing aids, and they were turned down, but I heard him.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, stretching up to kiss him. Justin took his time, exploring her mouth completely before pulling away.

  “You have hearing aids?” Iris asked, her lips catching on his.

  “Just keep an eye on the stars. I can keep us going in the right direction in the morning so you can sleep.”

  “Okay,” Justin agreed, but he knew one thing. He would not be sleeping until they were back on a populated island.

  The night passed, and Justin adjusted the foily emergency blanket to keep the sun off their east side. He felt sure they’d get somewhere in only another hour.

  Then another.

  Then another.

  Hopelessness filled him, choking off his vocal chords. He couldn’t help the path his thoughts took, and that was down the same trail that had kept him single all this time. His job had been too dangerous for a family before.

  But maybe it was him that was the curse.

  He made Iris drink as much as he dared, until she realized what he was doing. “You have to drink too,” she said, wiping her hair off her forehead.

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  “Justin.” She shook the cup toward him. “You really have to. I can’t row us to an island, and I don’t need you passing out from dehydration trying to do it.”

  He looked at her miserably, trying to glare but too thirsty to do it. He took the cup and drank the rest of the water, filled up the bag and set it on the stern so the sun could start baking it—the way it was baking him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, though it wasn’t the first time.

  Iris gave him a smile that didn’t exactly say it’s okay and turned back to the front of the boat. “I’m sure we’ll be there soon.”

  Justin wanted to agree with her, but he was starting to doubt they’d ever get somewhere safe. Maybe they should’ve stayed on the island. Maybe he could’ve learned to like eating fruit for every meal.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have leapt off that cruise ship quite so fast.

  The sun arced across the sky, and he moved the emergency blanket to the other side of the boat, wondering why he’d liked Hawaii so much previous to now. The sun was brutal, and relentless, and he blinked and he swore he saw land ahead.

  “Is that…?” He didn’t dare finish his question, because he didn’t want to be wrong. Again.

  Iris didn’t stir, and
alarm pulled through him. “Iris?”

  She groaned, and Justin left the oars for a moment to check on her. She’d curled up in the bottom of the boat between the seats in front of him, and he bent over. “Iris? You okay?” He wanted to add sweetheart, but he didn’t need to add more emotion than necessary.

  Her eyes fluttered and opened, and she nodded. “I’m just tired.”

  He didn’t see how that was possible, but he went back to his place, made sure they were still moving south, and started praying.

  Night started to fall, and Justin didn’t dare blink. He’d seen a light in the distance, he was sure of it. “Iris,” he said again, but she didn’t move. The sun sank completely, leaving them in dim twilight, and there were definitely lights ahead.

  “Iris,” he barked. “There’s land ahead.” It was hard for him to tell how far away it was, especially the way his head swam around like it had been dunked in the ocean.

  “I’m going to have to take us over the break in the dark,” he said, true fear coming into his voice and mind and heart. “Iris, I need your help.”

  She still didn’t move, and Justin really wanted to share his relief with her. “Iris.” He leaned over to check on her again, and she looked passed out.

  Because she was.

  “Iris.” Justin leapt over the seat as quickly as he could, knocking his head against the woven canopy they didn’t need anymore. “Iris? Sweetheart, I need you to wake up.”

  He cradled her in his arms, the heat from her skin far too warm. He didn’t understand. She’d eaten fruit all day. Drank most of the water. Stayed out of the sun.

  “Iris,” he said again, so tired of saying her name. “We’re almost there, sweetheart. I need your help to get across the break.”

  Still, she didn’t stir.

  Justin didn’t know what to do.

  Focus.

  Get the job done.

  Complete the mission.

  And he needed to get them over the break and to solid ground. Then he could call for help.

  In fact, he might be able to call for help right now. He went back to his spot in the boat and pulled his phone out of Iris’s hip pack. It seemed to take forever to power up, and when it did, he had two bars of service.