On This Island, I Make the Rules

Chapter 003

Ethan worked in the darkness, changing the cool compresses and keeping Brooke covered as best he could.

His hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Only a few days earlier, she had held his head under water. Now he was the only person here who could help her.

Anger stirred beneath the fear, but he pushed it aside. Whatever she had done to him, he couldn't stand by and watch her die.

When the water stopped feeling cool, he replaced it. Then he went out to search for coconuts, hoping to stretch what little drinking water they had left.

By the time he returned, the rain had eased.

He managed to give Brooke a little to drink when she was awake enough to swallow. He checked her again and again, until at last her skin no longer felt quite so hot.

Only then did he breathe properly.

Getting her wet clothes back into place was awkward and exhausting. When he was finally done, he collapsed beside her and fell asleep.

By morning, the sky had cleared.

A slap cracked across the quiet beach.

Ethan jerked awake.

Brooke was staring down at him, furious and flushed.

“What did you do while I was asleep? You disgusting creep!”

He held his cheek. “You had a fever. I was trying to help you.”

“You don't tell anyone about this. Ever. Do you understand?”

She checked herself over, then glared at him again.

“And don't expect me to thank you. After everything my family has done for you, you owed me.”

Ethan looked at her for a long moment.

“We need food and water,” he said finally.

He got up and walked away.

After a brief hesitation, Brooke followed.

They had been walking for some time when she spoke again.

“Where exactly are you taking us?”

“North. I think that's the direction the plane went down. Maybe some supplies washed ashore.”

He had been turning the idea over for a while. Food, drinks, emergency equipment—if they found even a small part of what the aircraft had carried, it might buy them time.

“How do you even know which way north is?”

Ever since they had arrived, the island had left Brooke hopelessly disoriented.

“I'm trying to follow the tree growth. Dad used to say the sunnier side tends to be thicker.”

It was a rough guess, and he wished he could get a clear view of the sun. At night, he might have been able to use the stars, if he knew their position well enough. For now, he was working with what he remembered.

Brooke looked at the trees. There did seem to be more leaves on one side of some of them.

When had he learned all this?

She glanced at Ethan, surprised in spite of herself. The feeling didn't last. He was still the same person she had spent years resenting.

“I'm hungry.”

Her steps were beginning to drag.

“There's food in the forest,” Ethan said. “Whether you'll eat it is another question.”

He stopped beside a dying palm and knocked along the trunk until he found a hollow patch. Then he struck the weakened wood hard enough to split it.

He reached into the opening.

A moment later, he withdrew a handful of pale, fat grubs.

“What are you doing with those?”

Brooke backed away. She had always hated insects.

“Palm weevil larvae. They're food.”

“You're doing this to disgust me! Put them down!”

“Don't eat them, then.”

Ethan gathered dry twigs. He intended to cook the grubs first; he had no ambition to turn this into an episode of Man vs. Wild.

Without a lighter or matches, he had to make a friction fire.

Brooke watched him arrange the pieces of wood.

“You seriously think that's going to work?”

She had seen people do it on television. Watching Ethan try it made her feel as if he were showing off.

But he kept working, and eventually an ember caught. He coaxed it into a flame and set the grubs beside the heat.

Soon they began to smell surprisingly good.

Ethan picked one up and ate it.

“You're disgusting.” Brooke looked as though she might gag.

“Then don't have any.”

Out here, food was food. They didn't have the luxury of a menu. Refusing what they could find wouldn't make something better appear.

Brooke slapped the next grub out of his hand.

“Go get me something I can eat.”

“This is something you can eat.”

“I said I don't want it!”

She raised her hand again.

Ethan's head snapped up.

“Quiet.”

The look in his eyes stopped her for a moment. He tilted his head, listening.

“There's something over there.”

“Oh, please. You're not going to scare me that easily.”

Then she heard it too.

A wet tearing sound, followed by a low growl.

Brooke went pale.

Ethan eased a branch aside and peered through the trees. She pressed close behind him, looking over his shoulder.

A man's upper body was visible beyond a patch of brush at the edge of the clearing.

Brooke's expression changed instantly.

“It's Logan! Come on!”

Logan Pierce. Their class representative, the good-looking guy everyone seemed to like.

At last, another survivor.