Page 88 of Shipwrecked

“Cillian.”

“I asked if they were pissed off at me.”

Seán groans. “Why on earth was that your response? Jules wouldn’t have been asking if he was!”

In retrospect, Seán has a point. But I’m struggling to get my head around it. They’re not annoyed at all? After I dominated them like that? Sure, Jules explicitly said he felt de-stressed, and Mathieu wears his heart on his sleeve and looked perfectly content, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t secretly pissed off.

I can tell I’m looking for anger that isn’t there at all.

“Do you want to say yes?”

“Of course,” I admit gruffly.

“Then say yes. Now, I’m not willing to spend all day in the jungle, so let’s up the pace.” Seán moves on ahead, quickly gaining distance. I push myself to keep up. I’m tired after the late night, and my muscles quiver their objection.

By the time we reach the glade, I’ve never been more tempted to crawl my way up that path into the hill and step off the cliff edge, falling into the crystal-clear water. I’d better not. I don’t have the energy to tuck my limbs. Based on the trampled path leading up, someone has, if not jumped in, at least explored the upward path.

If I had to suspect someone of jumping in, two particular individuals come to mind.

◆◆◆

I stay in camp, boiling the water to buy myself time. I puzzle over what words I’m going to use with Jules and Mathieu, and I’m so tired from the night before and the walk to the water that I don’t realise I’m shivering until I find myself huddling as close as I can get to the fire. My fingers are inches from the flame, and I’m flirting with a burn by pressing the back of my hand to the metal pot for a split second at a time. The itchiness across my body isn’t bugs; it’s sensitive skin from a flu.

“Great.” I dig out flu tablets from the medical bag and take two. I’m guessing the late-night shower and the dip this morning brought my temperature low enough for this to creep up on me. My nose isn’t runny yet, but my throat is tight.

When Charles and Mary come into camp to prepare lunch—fish and figs—I take the packet of flu tablets and a bottle of water and go in search of Jules and Mathieu. I’m dragging my feet through the sand all the way to our hut, and I’m ready to collapse when I reach it.

There’s no sign of them.

I remember Jules said he was going to be doing something with Willow and Yasop today… What was it again? Something that needed my knife, now permanently strapped to Jules’s waist. That’s all the way back to camp, and further past it again. A daunting distance. I stand in the doorway, willing my feet to move. They refuse. Instead, I put down the bottle and tablets on the ground and flop onto the bed.

I feel around for the blanket and groan in annoyance. It’s hanging outside to dry. I lie there for an hour shivering before gathering the energy to retrieve it. I lie back down with it, still shivering. Yesterday I decided not to build a campfire by the hut, thinking we wouldn’t need the heat. I’m regretting that now.

The blockiness in my head blooms into pressure, and my throat becomes dry. My tongue hurts. An intense itch pulses through my forearm every few seconds. I rouse myself to slap the skin several times, feeling like something is eating me. There’s never anything there.

I drift in and out of sleep, waking when someone sits down against my back.

“You scared me,” Jules says. Fingers card through my hair, soft and heavenly. I lean into his touch. “Are you shivering?”

“I’ve got a cold,” I manage to get out. I push through a heavy fog, trying to concentrate on my surroundings. Touch is concrete. Thoughts and everything else are filmy, drifting on a breeze. “There are flu tablets for you and Mathieu. Do you two feel alright?”

Cool fingers press against my forehead. “Jesus Christ. Mathieu? Get Seán. Quick.”

I can’t make out what Jules says next. All of a sudden Seán is there, even though I’m just after leaving him.

There are more fingers against my forehead.

“His temperature is way too high.” Seán’s voice is tight.

“I’ll get water and cloths.”

I feel the presence of more people than just Seán, but he’s the most immediate, hovering over me.

“I took flu tablets already.”

“What’s he saying?”

“I don’t know. He’s been mumbling the whole time. I got him to open his eyes for a few seconds, but he couldn’t focus on me.”