Survivors (Stranded) (5 page)

Or maybe more like oil.

F
or the rest of the afternoon, everyone kept busy, exploring their new home and bringing any useful items up onto the main deck. Jane catalogued it all in her journal, and everyone set to making what they could out of what they’d found.

Now, as the sun dipped to the west, Vanessa stood on the rocks at the mouth of the cove, dangling her homemade fishing pole in the water.

The pole wasn’t much—a willowy branch from the woods, a piece of the plastic line Carter had found, and a wire she’d sharpened against the rocks to make a hook. With a snail for bait, she felt ready to catch some dinner.

Or more like desperate for it.

Up to now, Jane had proven herself to be the brain of the group. Buzz was the one who knew the most about survival, and Carter was the muscle. All Vanessa knew about herself anymore was that she was the oldest. It didn’t seem to be adding up to much lately.

Nobody had said whether or not they wanted her to be the group leader anymore. Not since she’d run off that morning, before everything had gone so wrong.

And maybe that was for the best, Vanessa thought. Maybe they didn’t need a leader anymore. What they needed right now was fish.

Back at the ship, she could see Buzz, busily working on the campfire. He’d brought up several bucketloads of sand to make a big fire pit right there on the ship’s steel deck, surrounded by a ring of flat stones from the beach. It hadn’t taken him long after that to find a broken glass bottle he could use to refract the sunlight and get a flame started, like he’d done before. Already, he had a good blaze going near the ship’s bow.

Meanwhile, Carter was up in the woods, crashing around and scavenging for anything they could use, or eat. And Jane sat on a rock near the water’s edge, scribbling away in her new journal.

“Any nibbles yet?” Jane asked, for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Not yet,” Vanessa said. She was trying to be patient. It had been at least two hours, and she hadn’t even gotten the tiniest pull on her line.

It was frustrating. They’d all been swimming in this water and seen a million fish just under the surface. But that was farther out, where the coral reef seemed to attract endless numbers of them.

The reef was where they needed to go, she thought. Somehow, they’d have to get themselves out onto the water. There was plenty of bamboo around. Maybe she could figure out how to make a workable raft.

But not today. The sun was already on its way down. It would be getting dark soon.

“I’m going in,” she said to Jane. “Do you want to come back with me?”

Jane closed her journal, using her finger as a bookmark as Vanessa came near. “Not yet,” she said. “I’m going to write a little more.”

Vanessa looked to the horizon, where the sky had just started to dim. She could hear the bugs, warming up for their all-night chorus in the jungle. She could even smell the cool night air coming on.

It was all strangely familiar now, as if her senses had gotten sharper out here. She could spot the hermit crabs in the sand even when they weren’t moving, and she swore she could tell the different calls of the cicada, the loudest insect she’d ever heard. Or maybe she was just imagining it.

She looked down at Jane again. “Don’t . . .” she started to say, but then changed her mind and headed toward the ship.

“Don’t what?” Jane asked after her.

“Nothing,” Vanessa said. It was tempting to tell her not to stay out here too long. The mosquitoes always got worse around sunset, and it was important for the four of them to stick together after dark.

But Jane knew that. Even more, Jane could make her own decisions around here. She’d proven that by now.

They all had.

Jane sat quietly, waiting until Vanessa had gone back to the ship. Then she opened her new journal and silently read what she’d written so far.

Dear Mom and Dad,

First of all, I’m not going to call you Mom and Eric anymore. Just Mom and Dad, if that’s okay with you. I miss you both so much! I wish like anything you were here.

Wait. No, I don
’
t. I wish WE were THERE . . .wherever you are. When I think about it, I like to imagine you on a plane, somewhere just out of sight. Like you
’
re almost here to pick us up and take us home.

I probably shouldn’t even think about that. It hurts when I do. But I also can’t help it. I know you’re out there—SOMEWHERE. And I know you’re looking for us.

You’d probably want to know that we’re taking care of each other.Vanessa’s a really good older sister. I’m glad she’s here with me. Buzz and Carter, too. I wish you could know that, because I’m sure you’re worrying about us. You’re probably even wondering if we’re still alive.

Well, we are.

And we all love you.

And we MISS YOU. Huge, like the ocean.

xoxoxoxo, Jane (and Vanessa and Carter and Buzz)

P.S. If anyone finds this note, PLEASE send it to Elizabeth Benson and Eric Diaz at the address on the bottom of this page. It’s more important than you can ever know. Thank you!

Jane carefully tore the page out of her journal. With another quick look back, she made sure she was still alone. Then she reached down between the rocks and pulled up the old bottle she’d found in a corner of the ship’s galley. It smelled terrible on the inside but still had a screw cap to keep the whole thing watertight.

Standing with her back to the ship, she quickly rolled the letter into a tight scroll, slid it into the bottle, and sealed the whole thing up again.

It was stupid to throw a bottled note into the ocean. It was babyish, and impossible to think that the note might actually reach someone out there. If Carter, Buzz, or Vanessa knew she was doing it, they’d probably laugh her right off the island.

But none of that mattered. Above all, she kept thinking about something her mother liked to say.
If you don’t try, you’ll never know
.

It couldn’t hurt, anyway. Even just writing the letter felt good, like making a tiny connection to the real world back home.

Looking toward the horizon, Jane held the bottle in both hands. She gave it a quick kiss for good luck and threw it as far as she could. It splashed into the ocean, several yards offshore, and bobbed there, not going anywhere for the time being.

Jane watched for a few seconds more, then turned away and headed back to the ship. She’d done what she could. The rest was up to luck.

Carter stood perfectly still.
Don’t move, Benson,
he told himself
. Not even so much as a twitch.

It was dim in the woods. The sun had started to go down, and everything was washed in the pale blue color of dusk. But one thing stood out. It was the tan-and-black-banded snake, slithering off the tree in front of him.

It moved slowly off a low branch, taking its time. Carter wondered if the snake was aware of him or not. If so, it didn’t seem to care. The thing had never seen a human before—that was for sure. It was just going about its business, heading for the carpet of leaves and brush on the forest floor.

Carter’s heart raced with adrenaline, but there was no fear. He was too hungry for that. He’d heard of people eating rattlers before. Why not this one, too? It was at least three feet long, and thick. Which meant
meaty,
Carter thought. Its tiny black eyes were barely visible on either side of its flat, triangular head.

That was what he’d aim for—the head. But first, he needed a weapon.

Keeping his feet planted, he looked around for anything he could easily grab. A gray fist-sized rock sat in the weeds just a few feet away. It was smaller than he would have liked, but it would have to do. Moving slowly, he crouched down and picked up the rock with his good hand, never taking his eyes off the snake.

Now, he waited. The snake paused and advanced, paused and advanced, working its way toward the base of the tree trunk. Eventually, it slid onto flat ground, where it stopped again.

This was his chance. Any doubts he might have had were drowned out by the sharp, empty ache in his stomach. In one fluid motion, Carter dropped and brought the rock down on the snake’s head with all the strength he had.

It was a direct hit. But the snake reacted with a speed of its own. Its tail and back half kicked up, coiling around Carter’s leg. He felt a squeeze on his thigh as he jumped back. His fingers wrapped around the snake’s leathery body, and he whipped it off his leg, dropping it to the ground again. Without pause, he stepped forward and pinned the thing with his sneaker.

For a full minute or more, the snake’s body continued to move. It writhed under his foot, slowly curling and uncurling, until finally, it went still.

Carter looked down at his kill. He prodded it with his toe to make sure it was dead. Then he picked it up and turned to go.

It was only as he headed back to the ship that his nerves started to kick in. His hand trembled as he walked, with the lifeless snake hanging in his grip. He realized he’d barely breathed the whole time, and his lungs worked to catch up.

I can’t believe I just did that,
he thought. Some animal part of him had taken over. It all happened in a blur.

But now, one thing was clear above all. He knew what was coming next.

Dinner!

O
ther than microwave popcorn, Vanessa had never been much of a cook. But since Carter had made the kill, and Buzz was keeping the fire, she volunteered to do something with the snake. She only wished she could have brought back some fish to go with it.

Everyone was so hungry, there was no talk of how disgusting this might have been in any other situation. Not even from Jane, who could barely stomach the snails. Now, even she was excited at the prospect of something new to eat.

The first thing they had to do was use a knife from the galley to cut off the snake’s head. Jane said that if the snake was venomous, that’s where the poison would be. She didn’t know what kind of snake it was, but offered that it looked like a boa of some kind.

“Looks like snake steaks to me,” Carter said, and pitched the severed head way back into the woods. “The rats can have that part.”

With the head gone, Vanessa was surprised at how easily the skin came off. It was like peeling a sock away from a long tube. It made sense, actually. Snakes were built to shed.

After that, everyone agreed that it was best to slit the whole thing open and clean out the insides, the same way they’d seen Joe Kahali clean fish on the
Lucky Star
. For that, Vanessa took the snake and climbed down to the water’s edge. After she’d sliced it along the belly, all the insides pulled out in one long, slimy piece. If she weren’t so hungry, that part alone would have made her sick, Vanessa knew. It was amazing how easily it came to her now. She dropped the innards in the water without a thought and climbed back onto the deck with the snake meat dangling in her hand.

“Let’s cook this thing,” she said.

Buzz already had a pot heating over the campfire. The pot sat on a broken metal frame that Carter had torn out of the nav station for a cooking grate. The whole setup was kind of pathetic-looking and brilliant at the same time.

Vanessa cut the meat into small pieces so they’d cook quickly. Within a minute of dropping them into the hot pot, the smell reached her nostrils, and her mouth started to water.

As soon as the pieces felt firm to the touch, she passed one out to each of them. She blew on hers, trying to cool it, but quickly lost patience and popped the hot little nugget into her mouth.

The meat was chewy and full of tiny bones, but nobody cared about that. Even the flavor, like a cross between unsalted fish and dark-meat chicken, tasted as good as anything Vanessa had ever eaten.

For a long time, nobody said much. There was plenty to eat, and they all dipped back into the pot for another piece, and another, and another. Nobody even counted or kept track of who was getting how much. For once, it didn’t matter.

Finally, Vanessa sat back, amazed at the tight feeling in her belly.

“I can’t believe it,” she said. “I’m full.”

“Me, too,” Buzz said. “When was the last time that happened?”

“Best. Snake. Ever!” Jane said.

And when everyone laughed, it was a little bit like getting dessert, too.

After the snake was gone, Buzz had one more idea for the day. He’d gathered up a few supplies, and now pulled them out of the wheelhouse.

“What are you doing?” Carter asked. He, Jane, and Vanessa were stretched out around the fire, keeping warm as the cool of the night came on. A chilly breeze from the ocean blew around the deck, and a sky full of stars had started to show overhead.

“I want to make a torch,” Buzz said. “If I can.”

He picked up a long thin piece of firewood and a bag of old oil-stained rags he’d found in the engine room. The rags hadn’t seemed good for anything at first. Not until this idea had come to him.

He wrapped a thick, triple layer of material around the top of the stick. Then he bound it up with a long piece of wire he’d pulled out of a dead console in the wheelhouse. It worked like metal string, which was exactly what he needed.

“And now, the secret ingredient,” he said, grinning at the others. He turned the would-be torch upside down and dipped it into a pot of the dark, oily sludge from the tank they’d found.

“How do you know that’s going to burn?” Jane asked him.

“I don’t,” he said. He swirled the cotton rags around and around, getting them good and soaked.

“How do you know it won’t explode?” Vanessa added.

Buzz shrugged. “I don’t.”

The others stood up and took several steps away. Buzz set the oil-soaked head of the torch on the ring of stones around the fire. Then he stepped back, too. Using another stick, he slowly pushed the torch toward the flames. Jane put her hands over her ears. Buzz squinted, waiting for whatever might come next.

The fire burned bright orange all around the rags, but nothing happened. Buzz pushed the torch farther into the fire and waited again. Then, with a hollow popping sound, the whole thing quietly burst into flame.

Carter, Jane, and Vanessa erupted in a cheer.

“Sweet!” Carter said.

Buzz was already feeling high after a full meal. Now, a wide grin spread across his face. He’d done it.

He reached over and took the torch by its handle, stood up with it, and stepped away from the campfire. It burned on its own beautifully—a bright yellow beacon against the dark sky.

This was amazing. It was like holding a giant flashlight. It was security on a dark night. It was
power
. Not just for him but for all of them. Already, Jane, Vanessa, and Carter were picking up sticks of their own and starting to assemble more of the homemade torches.

Within a few minutes, everyone had one. It felt like the Fourth of July, with a warm glow lighting the deck of the abandoned ship.

“Come on,” Buzz said. “Let’s test these things out.”

“Where are you going?” Jane asked.

“For a walk.”

Buzz went to the ship’s rail and dropped his torch onto a dry patch of ground below. It hit the dirt and kept right on burning.

Soon all four of them were off the boat, headed toward the mouth of the cove. The torches lit the way as they climbed out onto the rocks to look at the endless stars and bright half-moon overhead.

Buzz could feel the warmth of the flames on his face. It was an amazing sensation—and, strangely, one of the most secure feelings he’d ever had.

“I think we can do this, you guys,” he said.

“Do what?” Vanessa asked.

He gestured, sweeping his arm at the ocean, the shore, the cove—all of it.

“This,” he said.

For a moment, no one said anything. They all seemed to be taking in the power of the idea. They could do this. They
were
doing this.

Vanessa was the first to break the silence. “What do you think Dad and Beth would think if they could see us now?” she asked.

“You don’t have to call her Beth,” Jane said. “You can call her Mom. I bet she’d like that.”

“I’ll bet you’re right,” Vanessa said. For once, nobody seemed sad at the mention of their parents. “So what do you think Mom and Dad would think if they saw us now?”

“They’d think we were wild animals,” Carter said, and let out a howl.

Then Buzz joined in. Jane and Vanessa, too. Soon, all four of them were laughing and baying at the moon, making as much noise as they pleased.

Why not?
Buzz thought. This was
their
island, after all.