On This Island, I Make the Rules

Chapter 007

Brooke stayed tucked against Ethan in the hollow, as if the narrow space beside him were the only safe place left in the world.

He barely moved. His arm was going numb, but shifting would only frighten her again.

For once, she understood that he was all she had.

The howling continued for hours, then finally faded. Neither of them slept well, but the creatures never came onto the beach.

At dawn, a gull pecked Ethan awake.

“Get lost!”

He flapped a hand at it. Brooke stirred beside him.

“I'm starving.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “And so thirsty. I could drink a gallon of water.”

She stared at the ocean and swallowed.

“Not that water,” Ethan said. “Unless you want to make things worse.”

But the sight of the sea reminded him of something.

The animals in the forest had to get water somewhere. There must be a freshwater source on the island.

Finding it mattered more than finding another meal.

He collected a few oysters and other shellfish from around the rocks. After they had eaten enough to quiet their stomachs, he told Brooke he was going into the forest.

Dangerous or not, he couldn't avoid it forever. Staying on the beach and waiting to run out of water wasn't a plan.

“Take your spear,” Brooke said.

She didn't argue. She seemed to understand what was at stake.

Ethan picked up the sharpened branch. It was little thicker than his thumb. Useful for a few things, perhaps, but hardly a weapon he wanted to trust his life to.

“Stay hidden here. If something comes after you, get onto the sand and shout. If I'm close enough, I'll hear you.”

He didn't say what would happen if he wasn't.

Brooke nodded, pale and tight-lipped.

“Come back.”

“I will.”

He knew better than to mistake her fear for affection. Nobody wanted to be the last person alive on an island like this. Alone, with the forest at your back and nothing but empty water in front of you, fear could swallow you whole.

Ethan crossed the sand and watched the tree line for a while before stepping into it.

The growth was thick and towering. Once he passed beneath the canopy, the world grew dim and strangely quiet.

He moved carefully until he reached the place where they had found Logan.

The body was in worse condition than before. Ethan looked away, fighting nausea.

Nothing moved nearby.

He waited. Then he waited a little longer.

Finally, he approached, covered his nose with the crook of his elbow, and searched Logan's pockets.

He hated doing it. He also knew that leaving something useful here wouldn't help Logan and might cost the living their lives.

He found a powerful flashlight with several settings, including a flashing mode, and a small packet of crackers.

For a moment, he simply stared.

Light after dark. A possible signal. Food that hadn't been pulled out of a tree or scraped off a rock.

It felt like a fortune.

There was nothing else in the pockets, but as he searched the grass nearby, he spotted a metal head beneath the leaves.

A crash axe.

The kind carried aboard an aircraft.

He pulled it free, hardly believing his luck.

Logan must have found some of the wreckage. Where else would he have got it?

But Logan was dead, and the answer had died with him. Ethan couldn't go blundering across an island this size without knowing what was waiting in the trees.

He tested the axe's weight.

For the first time since the crash, he felt something close to confidence.

He could cut wood. Clear branches. Build something sturdier than a pile of palm leaves. And if another one of those creatures came at him, at least he would have more than a flimsy stick.

He cut a straight branch about as thick as his forearm and sharpened both ends. Then he found two coconuts and decided not to push his luck.

Brooke climbed out of the rocks as soon as she saw him.

“You're back!”

Her gaze dropped to what he was carrying.

“Are those coconuts?”

The last time he had opened one, he had spent ages battering it against a rock and nearly injured his hand. With the axe, the job was much easier.

They drank the water and dug out the flesh.

“Oh my God,” Brooke said after a long swallow. “That's so good.”

With her thirst eased and some food in her stomach, she almost seemed like a different person.

“You did pretty well.”

“Not bad,” Ethan agreed.

Then he took out the crackers.

Brooke's eyes lit up.

“You found crackers? Give me some!”

“Emergency food.”

He put the packet away again.

“We save it until we need it.”

It was sensible. Still, he couldn't deny the small, mean satisfaction of having something she wanted and saying no.

“All right.”

For now, Brooke had no better ideas. She had to trust his.

By evening, their stomachs were growling again.

“Ethan...”

“Try to ignore it.”

He knew what she wanted. They had eaten enough to keep going. He wasn't about to wander into the jungle at night because she didn't like feeling hungry.

“Please find me something. I'm really hungry.”

She leaned close and pleaded with him, making an effort to sound gentle that felt almost stranger than her shouting.

“What's gotten into you?” he asked suspiciously.

“Dad has always been good to you. You know he has. You can't just let me starve.”

Ethan shut his eyes.

Of course. David again.

The memories softened him despite himself.

“I can look for more shellfish. Maybe a crab or two. That's it.”

Being tired was one thing. Risking the forest after dark was another.

“Again?” Brooke started to complain, then stopped. “Wait. You can make a fire, right? If we collect some dry wood, we could cook it. Like a beach barbecue.”

She looked suddenly hopeful.

“It has to be better than eating everything raw.”

Ethan's stomach growled at the thought.

Why hadn't he done that sooner?

“Stay here.”

Finding a few fallen branches along the edge of the woods shouldn't be too hard.

He picked up the axe and set off.

He was still a hundred yards or so from the trees when someone ran out of them.

“Who's there?”

The figure slowed.

As it came closer, the moonlight revealed a woman, tall and slender, a little taller than Brooke.

Someone else had survived.