He’s quiet for a moment before speaking. “I don’t know when they’re coming.”
“What?” I ask again because, surely, I’m mistaken, and he’s not saying what I think he’s saying.
“I don’t think he had a chance to send a distress signal.” The explanation seems logical, but I refuse to accept it.
“The captain?”
“Yes.”
The mention of the nice captain willing to lend me a hand sends ice down my spine. I really hope he’s okay.
“Well,” I start, “they’ll notice we went missing and come find us.”
“Are you planning on sitting here the whole time you wait?” He folds his arms over his giant chest.
“You told me I need to give my body a rest.” I quirk a brow.
“You swallowed half the ocean and vomited even more. You’ll be dehydrated soon. You need water.”
“Rescue will have water,” I counter stubbornly, and stare at the ocean, expecting a rescue boat to arrive any minute.
But there are no helicopters or motorboats. The high waves, beating the sand in front of us, are the only sound. There are no whistles or cries of people looking for us. But I’ll wait. It’s the twenty-first century, and we don’t leave people stranded on islands. Besides that, someone might actually come from the depth of the island itself. The chances of us landing on an uninhabited island are slim.
“Suit yourself.” With that, he completely turns away, leaving me to myself and my misery.
“Where are you going?” I cry out, suddenly not liking the idea of being here alone.
“To check the island,” he replies without turning back.
I make a move to stand up but don’t follow through. “But what if someone comes for us?”
“Tell them I’m around.”
“Nope. You snooze, you lose.” That should bring him back, right?
Wrong.
“Works too. I’d rather be stuck on this fucking island.”
The wind picks up as he says those last words, and I’m not quite sure I hear them correctly. If I got it right, that’d bea really odd thing to say. No one wants to stay stranded. Right?
Looking at his figure disappearing in the dark, the idea of staying here alone in the storm with no one around doesn’t seem so good anymore, but what if someone comes looking for us, and no one is here? I chew on my lip, contemplating on what to do. But as I’m thinking, he keeps walking, indeed leaving me here alone.
I don’t have a choice. I put my big girl shorts on and walk to the nearest tree. It doesn’t provide much coverage from the elements should they decide to rain on me, but it gives good support for my aching back. I slide down, leaning on the palm, and wait for the rescue to come and save us.
12
Maeve
When I open my eyes, rescue is still not here. Neither is the storm. The sky is bright blue; the crystal-clear ocean is a picture of peaceful paradise from TV commercials.
I stretch my aching body and stand up.
The island doesn’t look so hostile during the day. The sandy part of the shore doesn’t take much space, giving in to the life of the land with all its blooming greenness. The grass and palms start growing about fifteen feet away from the water, so I’d suspect this is where the high tide ends. Good thing I chose the tree far from it, or waking up would have looked much different.
And I know we’re on an island because we’re in the middle of an ocean in French Polynesia, an absolutely beautiful place that consists of numerous islands separated from each other by a massive body of water. And we were headed from Bora Bora to Maupiti Island which was supposed to bean hour and a half away by speedboat, according to what the nice captain said. So we could end up anywhere, including any number of habitable islands. It’s time to stretch my legs and go find some people. My unfortunate neighbor has probably found humans and left me here, alone and thirsty.
The more I walk, the thirstier I become. And the more desperate. It pains me to say it, but King was right—rescue hasn’t come yet, and I’m probably dehydrated. My head hurts, my skin hurts, my tongue is like a cotton ball in my mouth made of cotton disks. I don’t know if he ended up in some nice house and already called for help, but all I want right now is some water.
