“I don’t know, I don’t know if I can...” I manage.
“Yeah, you can. You already did the impossible, survived.”
I nod.
He’s right.
We survived. I can’t give up on them now. They’re my team, and we have to stick together.
“You’re right,” I croak. “I got this.”
“Yeah, you do. Now come on, let’s find us some water, so we can make it through another night.”
Another nod.
We got this.
We do.
We have to.
WE FIND WATER.
Well, Adrian finds the water and yells until we find him.
It is a decent hike into the middle of the island, so it won’t be easy to get, but it’s here and that’s something. We will have to fill every water container we have on the boat and probably take turns coming to get it. Ace, Adrian and I fill what we have, which is three water containers in his backpack. I am thankful, at the very least, that we packed some essentials.
If we hadn’t, this would be a very different story.
“Do you think there will be food?” I ask him, squatting down beside the water, which is a fairly decent size, with a small waterfall trickling, meaning it probably comes from above the cliffs somewhere.
It’s mostly clean, but we will have to boil it. We can’t risk getting sick out here. Thankfully, one of the water containers is stainless steel, so we are able to put it on the fire. It’s the small things I am starting to realise are the most meaningful.
“Where there is water, there are animals, and where there are animals, there is food,” Adrian points out.
I press my lips together.
The thought of hunting animals does not make me happy.
“What about fish?” I ask, screwing the tap on my water container.
“If we can find any of the lines on the lifeboat, we should be able to catch enough to get us through while we’re here.”
A small glimmer of hope washes through me.
“Before we go, I’m washing off. The salt water and blood needs to go,” he murmurs, standing and reaching for the hem of his shirt.
I watch, trying not to stare too intensely as he pulls it over his head.
Oh my word.
Here we are, stuck on an island, and I’m gawking at a man.
Maybe I have lost it.
Ace’s body is ripped, and full of scars and stories. I try to look away—don’t stare, Grace, god—but how could I not? As I stare, I see bruising, the streaks of half-dried blood, muscle stitched tight over his ribs, a whole heap of tattoos across his chest and arms. There’s a skull grinding into roses, a pin-up girl riding a comet, a snake devouring itself, curling up the side of his neck. I’ve seen tattoos before, but never like this. Each one looks like a wound and a badge at once.
He glances at me, catching the full force of my gawking. His mouth tugs up at one side and my cheeks burn red.
