Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59739 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59739 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“I hear what you’re saying,” Rachel throws back at him. “But if you’re wrong, we lose every chance we have.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Ace mutters. “It ain’t worth riskin’ our lives to assume it’s someone here to rescue us.”
“You expect us to trust any of you?” Rachel fires, her face getting redder by the second. “You’re the fucking reason we’re here. For all we know, you could have this all planned out.”
“Don’t fuckin’ start,” Kellen warns her, his voice low. “Now ain’t the time.”
“Enough,” Zeke snaps, throwing his hands up. “You two can sit out here and fucking argue if you like, but I’m not riskin’ my life for anyone. Let’s pack up, and assume the worst. We can have a lookout as the ship gets closer if it makes you feel better, and if it isn’t pirates, we will flag them down.”
“Good plan,” Tati nods. “Can we get moving?”
“I have always wondered what it would be like to meet an actual pirate,” Adrian ponders.
“Adrian,” I mutter. “Not now.”
He shrugs. “It could be fun.”
“Fuck me,” Ace grunts. “Let’s just get this done.”
Nobody argues after that. We all get to work, making the space look like we were never here, as quickly as we can. We find a place by the cliffs to stash our things, we cover the fire pit with sand and fronds, we take down anything we have hung, and we take anything away from the shipwreck that makes it look like we’re fixing a boat. We can’t do much about it laying there, and we all know it will likely draw them in closer, to see if anyone is here, but what do we do?
Pray and hope they assume it is just a wreck.
“We’re goin’ to miss something,” Kellen growls. “I just fuckin’ know it.”
I almost bite back at Kellen, but he’s probably right. There’s always something left: a loop of cord, a shard of glass, a footprint in the dirt. But the best we can do is try, so we spread out and sweep the sand, shoulder to shoulder. Aggie takes the lead, scouring for anything we might have missed, wrappers from the ration packs, the plastic bits off water bottles, hell, just a stray hair clip or shoelace is enough to set it all in motion. The guys keep their focus on the shipwreck and making it look untouched.
Footprints in the wet sand are the worst. I use a leafy branch to sweep them away as best as I can, back and forth, until my arms are burning. Every time I look up, my heart stutters—because there, on the horizon, the thin black mast is creeping closer, the shape growing more distinct with every heartbeat.
Then, we all make our way into the trees, praying we haven’t left anything behind.
Because if we have, being stranded on this island will be the least of our problems.
2
“CAN YOU SEE ANYTHING yet?” I ask Aggie, who has the scope up to her eye as she scours the horizon.
We’ve been at our cave hideout for about two hours now, and none of us have been able to put the scope down. Constantly checking, seeing if the ship is moving closer or further away. Kellen set us up so we can see the creek, because he thinks if they stop here, it will be looking for food and water. At least we can see what we’re dealing with.
I hope if they stop, they have no plans on staying, because if they do, we’re in big trouble.
We’re no match for pirates, not even if all the guys are great fighters.
A gun will outlast any fist.
“I think...” Aggie pauses, then puts the scope down. “It’s coming in this direction now.”
Kellen is on his feet in seconds, snatching the scope off her. Ace is quickly by his side. He looks out, then lets out a curse. “Fuck me, she’s right. They’re coming towards the island.”
“What if they saw us?” Rachel whispers. “We saw them on a scope, who’s to say they didn’t see us?”
We all fall silent, and my heart feels like it might just jump into my throat.
“We’re fucking dead,” Aggie hisses, crouched beside me. “We’re so, so dead, that’s what’s happening here.”
Which, for the first time in weeks, feels like it could be true.
“They didn’t see us,” Zeke answers, low. “If they’d seen us, they’d be hauling arse in this direction, no doubt blowing off cannons.”
I believe he’s right, mostly because we can only just make out their boat, so there’s a solid chance they didn’t see a bunch of people running around. Still, the thought makes me shiver.
“I’m just saying, we should be ready,” Rachel mutters.
Which, of all the things to say, is probably the least useful. Nobody here has had a single moment of comfort for forty-three days, but Rachel just likes to narrate the obvious. I peer down at the beach, through a gap in the rock. I wonder if they will just collect water and leave? That’s all we can hope for. I sit back down, bringing my knees to my chest and waiting, just like everyone else. What is there to do or say? We just have to wait. As painful and gruelling as that is.