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Authors: W. S. Antony

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Slaves of Elysium (7 page)

BOOK: Slaves of Elysium
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Jeni was right behind Rebecca when she saw a wall of water emerge from the storm-lashed night. For a moment it seemed to hang suspended over the doomed yacht, then it crashed down with a roaring hammer blow that blotted out every other sensation.

The next thing Jeni knew she was breaking the surface supported by her lifejacket, retching and gagging and gasping for air. Lightning flashed, illuminating the
Galatea
twenty metres away, her stern lifting into the air. Ash was clinging limply to the handrail. To one side was the life raft, bobbing freely on the waves. Of Rebecca there was no sign.

Then the flash faded, leaving purple afterimages in Jeni's stinging eyes.

When the sky lit up again she saw nothing about her but rolling black waters laced with foam. She floundered about, lost and confused and sick with fear. A wave rose under her, carrying her up to its crest as though trying to toss her to the clouds. For a moment she thought she saw the raft's beacon flashing in the far distance, then it was gone as she was plunged back into a trough once more.

For an age it seemed that the ocean played with her as she struggled ever more feebly against its pounding waters, fighting to breathe air thick with spray. Finally, numbed by despair and beyond hope, Jeni gave herself up to the sea. It had won. She could fight no more.

The pounding faded as all sensation slipped away and exhaustion claimed her.

 

Jeni woke to the rhythmic swish and rush of waves breaking on a beach.

Gradually she became aware of other things; the sun on her back, salt drying on her skin, sand beneath her. There was also a throbbing ache throughout her entire body as though she had been mercilessly pummelled all over. She realised she was sprawled half on her face. Her lifejacket bulked awkwardly under her, but for the moment she did not even have the strength to open her salt-gummed eyes, much less to roll into a more comfortable position.

Fragments of memory returned. From out of her exhausted delirium she vaguely recalled the storm becoming a booming of breaking waves. Then had come rushing bubbles, dreadful pressure on her chest and the sensation of being rolled over and over.

But she had been washed up on a beach. Solid ground. She was safe!

But where was she? And where were the others?

With an effort she forced her aching limbs to move. Groaning she sat up, rubbed her eyes open, ignoring the salt-sting, and looked about.

A blue sea lapped about a beach of fine golden sand, backed by a green wall of palms rising over a tangle of lesser shrubs. From over this fringe of verdure the morning sun shone hot and bright from between a few puffy white clouds. A morning sun? Had it been that long since the
Galatea
went down?

Unsteadily, Jeni climbed to her feet so she could see further.

Judging by the sun, the beach ran roughly north/south in an almost straight line, broken only by a few scalloped bays, until it faded into the distant blue haze. It was quite beautiful, but completely deserted. Again she wondered where the others were. But above all, where was Ash?

Jeni tried to call out, but could only produce a strangled croak. Her throat and tongue were salt-burned. Before she did anything else she had to find fresh water.

With stiff fingers she managed to release her lifejacket, which she dropped to the sand. Then she headed unsteadily up the beach and into the cool shade of the palms. There were a few fallen coconuts lying on the ground and she picked one up. Now if only she could find a stone to crack it open. But the ground seemed to be a sandy soil mixed with nothing larger than pebbles. She must be able to find a rock somewhere! In desperation she pounded the coconut against a palm trunk, but it stubbornly refused to split.

Jeni stumbled on along the tree line feeling increasingly sick and light-headed. How much salt-water had she swallowed last night? She must open her coconut somehow or else find fresh water. It was ridiculous that she should survive a shipwreck only to die of thirst with sustenance in her hand.

Then she heard a splash of water from somewhere ahead that was distinct from the wash of the sea. Was she imagining it? No, it was real. She broke into a tottering run.

Cresting a slight rise she came upon a tiny inlet overhung by palms. A clear stream ran out of the forest over a pebbly bed and across a furrow cut in the sand to empty itself in the ocean. Jeni plunged into the stream, splashing and scrabbling her way up into the trees until she was clear of the salty beach. Then she cupped the water to her mouth and drank and drank. The finest champagne could not have tasted more wonderful.

For some minutes she lay still letting the cool water revive her. The stream had exposed and polished smooth a few substantial rocks, and against one of these she finally managed to crack open her coconut. Then sitting in the stream chewing the crisp white flesh she tried to get her thoughts in order.

Now she had established a supply of food and water her next priority, once she regained her strength, must be to search for the others. She thought despairingly of her last sight of Ash, but then told herself to be positive. Even if he had not made it to the raft he'd been wearing a lifejacket. He was a strong man. He would survive if anybody could. If she'd been washed up then there was a good chance he, and the others, had as well.

But where was she?

About her birds twittered and chirped in the trees, and insects flitted through the bars of sunlight, but there was no sign of any larger animals, much less human habitation. The sun was rising from behind the land, suggesting she had landed on the western side of a moderately large island, judging by the length of the shoreline. If they had actually been heading east instead of west whilst lost in the fog, might this be somewhere in the Azores or even the Canary Islands? But could they have travelled that far with the fuel they had? On the other hand, where else could it be?

As the water and coconut milk washed though her system, Jeni found herself needing to pee. She scrambled out of the stream and made her way cautiously into the shelter of the bushes until she found a spot where she could squat down. As she relieved herself she became aware of a lingering soreness in her vagina, reminding her of the strange events of the previous day.

Though she could recollect what had happened perfectly clearly, it all seemed like another world away now. She knew it had told her something important about herself and her darker desires. Where it might lead in time she could only guess, but for the moment she must put all that aside.

She made her way back down to the beach and looked about her.

If there had been any sign of habitation she would have made for that first to raise the alarm about the shipwreck. But the coastline as far as she could see was completely deserted, nor were any vessels visible out to sea. She could of course head inland until she found a road or settlement, but that might take some time. She felt she should make her own search first while there was a chance of finding the others close by.

Very well, then, the stream would be her base. With that as a focus she would search the shore methodically in both directions. If she had no luck by the end of the day she would think again.

But which way first: north or south? One was as good as another. And what if one of the others passed by the stream from the other direction while she was gone?

Gathering some dead palm fronds, Jeni laid them out in the shape of a large arrow in the sand, indicating the direction she was travelling, and wrote JENI beside it. She took another drink from the stream, wishing she had a container to carry more water with her, and then set off north along the beach.

She kept to the shade under the trees as much as possible while scanning the sand for any trace of the others. She saw no footprints or, what she most dreaded, bodies; but she soon came across inanimate evidence of the wreck. There was a sunbed cushion of the sort carried on the
Galatea
, a little further along some teak flooring slats and, rolling in the waves, a section of splintered superstructure moulding.

These sad remains of a fine vessel depressed Jeni and she plodded on with a heavy heart. If the storm had been powerful enough to smash the boat apart, what chance was there that the others had survived? Was she the only one left?

She had been walking for almost an hour and was wondering if she should turn back when, over the crest of a spit of sand, she saw a figure heading towards her. For a moment she hesitated, wondering if it was a local inhabitant. Then, as their steps brought them warily closer, she gave a shriek of relief and broke into a run.

It was Rebecca!

Rebecca, however, did not seem to take any notice of her calls. Jeni saw she was still wearing her lifejacket and was moving with a loose, shambling step, head down, lolling on her shoulders.

Jeni caught hold of her employer as they met, feeling her knees giving way. ‘All right, miss, I've got you.'

Rebecca mumbled something incoherent, turning her head sightlessly towards Jeni. Her face was red from the sun, her lips cracked and eyes crusted tight.

Jeni stripped off Rebecca's lifejacket and laid her down in the shade. No time to take her back to the stream. She needed fluid immediately. Searching through the undergrowth she found a suitable stone and cracked another fallen coconut across it. Supporting Rebecca's head she managed to get some of the milk between her lips. Rebecca spluttered at first, and then took it down greedily. With the hem of her T-shirt Jeni wiped Rebecca's eyes clean as best she could.

After a few minutes Rebecca recovered her senses enough to blink at her and ask thickly, ‘Jeni... is that you?'

‘Yes, miss.'

‘Mark?'

‘I don't know, miss. I haven't seen anything of him or Mr Ash since we were washed off the boat.'

‘Where are we?'

‘I don't know that either.'

‘Must have... water.'

‘I know where some is, miss. But I've nothing to carry it in. We'll have to walk there.'

With Rebecca leaning on her shoulder, Jeni headed back to the stream. It took twice as long as the outward journey and by the time they reached it she was almost as exhausted as her employer. But the cool fresh water rapidly revived them both. Evidently Rebecca had sustained no serious injury and was suffering nothing worse than sunburn, dehydration and shock. As she watched Rebecca gratefully washing the salt from her tangled hair, Jeni considered what they should do next. Like it or not, she knew she would have to make all the practical decisions.

When Rebecca was restored to something approaching her usual self once more, Jeni said, ‘I'm going into the forest to see if I can find something else to eat, miss. Its early afternoon by the sun and I don't think we can go anywhere else today. We should make the best camp we can here. And start a fire if possible.'

Rebecca frowned. ‘Why don't you find somebody to help us?'

‘I would if I could, miss, but so far I haven't seen anybody to ask.'

‘But there must be somebody,' Rebecca said flatly.

Jeni could find no answer to that baseless assumption. Rebecca still could not accept that the world might not always shape itself to suit her needs. People were always there to help her – as Jeni was doing even now.

‘It depends where we are and how far it is to the nearest town or village, miss,' Jeni pointed out as gently as possible.

‘Well go on, then. Do what you have to. But don't be long.'

It was too much to expect Rebecca to offer to help, of course, so leaving her resting in the cool shade, Jeni set off. She followed the course of the stream to ensure she did not get lost. The air got closer under the trees away from the sea breeze, but it was not humid enough to be oppressive. The general feeling was of a semi-tropical island and she wondered again where it was.

She found food with surprising ease. Several bushes carried berries she did not recognise and thought it best not to try, but in a small clearing were half a dozen wild banana trees with fruits in various stages of ripeness, and with a long stick she managed to pull down a whole bunch from one of them.

Close by she came across a clump of what were unmistakably tomato vines, growing from unusually stout main stalks standing higher than her head. She added a stem of a dozen ripe red tomatoes the size of small apples to her bananas and returned to the shore in better spirits. Wherever they were the land was very fertile and they certainly weren't going to starve.

Rebecca demonstrated her complete recovery on Jeni's return by accepted this addition to their diet without comment and asking instead, ‘Did you see any sign of life? I mean, civilised life.'

‘No, miss. I'd say if I had. There were no paths or roads or anything. This must be an uninhabited part of the coast.'

‘Maybe we can signal for help,' Rebecca said, beginning to think practically at last. ‘You said we could make a fire. Perhaps we can use that.'

‘Maybe, miss.'

‘Well get started, then.'

‘I will, miss, but I have to make a fire bow first.'

‘A what?'

‘You'll see, miss.'

BOOK: Slaves of Elysium
3.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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