Survivors (Stranded) (9 page)

“Are you guys seeing this?” she asked.

When Buzz finally answered, it wasn’t what she expected to hear. “Carter?” he said. And then, “Carter!”

Now Jane did turn around. Her brother was swaying on his feet, almost as if he were in a trance.

“I think I, uh . . . need to lie down,” he said.

Buzz sat up fast, but Carter was already falling. By the time Jane reached for him, Carter’s eyes had rolled back in his head. His knees buckled and he dropped, passed out right there on the rocks.

C
arter’s mind felt like gray fuzz. The fever kept him in a sweat, while the rest of his body seemed to prickle with goose bumps no matter how close to the fire he stayed.

“I think he’s awake,” someone said.

“Was I asleep?” Carter asked. He remembered stumbling back to the ship, but not much more. “What time is it?”

“The sun’s going down,” Vanessa said. “Here, we saved you some fish.”

“I’ll have some later,” he said.

“Don’t be stupid,” she told him. “You have to eat. It’s the only way you’ll get stronger.”

“I’m not being stupid. I’m just not hungry.”

“Are you kidding me?” Vanessa asked. She actually seemed angry. Buzz and Jane were sitting across the fire from him, and they noticed it, too. They both looked over now, with scared, wide-eyed expressions.

When Vanessa spoke again, her voice shook. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re all in this together,” she said. “We’re a family, Carter. How many times do I have to say that before you get it? Now eat the stupid fish before I kill you.”

Carter reached over and pinched off a small amount of the flaky white flesh. When he put it in his mouth, it was warm and comforting. But even so, it was hard for him to swallow. His appetite was gone, and he had no desire to eat more. That was as scary as his swollen hand, which was up to twice the size it had been that morning. A line of dried yellow pus showed along the original wound, and it was impossible to unbend his fingers anymore.

Their long day in the sun, and the swim back, had wrecked him. He’d never felt worse, even on the night he’d spewed his guts out after drinking bad water. The difference this time was, he didn’t expect to feel better anytime soon.

“Have some more,” Vanessa said. She fed him several mouthfuls of fish. Carter took the food, chewed it, and swallowed—but not because he wanted to.

He did it for the others. Right now, that was the most he could manage.

“Buzz, can you give me a hand down here?” Vanessa asked. “I want to pull together whatever bamboo we have.”

“There isn’t that much,” Buzz said.

“Will you just come here, please?” Vanessa asked, more bossy than usual.

She left the deck and dropped to the ground, leading Buzz around the bow to the water’s edge, out of earshot from Jane and Carter. All the salvaged bamboo from the raft sat in a pile on the ground against the hull of the ship.

“What’s going on?” Buzz asked. “I thought you wanted to—”

Vanessa raised a finger to her mouth to quiet Buzz. “What do we do about Carter?” she whispered.

Buzz shook his head. “What
can
we do?” he whispered back.

Neither of them seemed to have an answer for that. They stared silently at each other. Finally, Vanessa asked the one thing she’d been trying not to bring up for the last three days. She’d been trying not even to think about it, but there was no avoiding the question.

“Can you die from an infected cut?” she asked. The words caught in her throat, followed quickly by a sob. It felt like bringing the possibility to life, just by naming it.

“I don’t know,” Buzz answered, clearly fighting back his own tears.

“Nobody ever said anything about infection on those million shows you watched?” Vanessa pressed him. “Come on, Buzz, think. There has to be something we can do.”

“I don’t know!” he said again, in a fierce whisper. “I wish I did, but . . . I don’t.”

“Is Carter going to die?”

Vanessa turned to see Jane standing there. She’d always had a way of moving around so as to not be noticed. Now she stood in the shadow of the ship’s hull, staring at them as if she were afraid to come any closer.

“I hope not,” Vanessa answered. Two weeks ago, she would have tried to hide the truth from Jane. Not anymore.

The sound of cicadas filled Vanessa’s ears, while horrible thoughts poured into her mind. Would there be a new grave on the island before it was all over? How would they ever be able to take that if it happened? How could they live without Carter?

She shook her head then, as if to expel the thoughts. Up till now, it had been impossible even to imagine something like that happening. But there was also nothing left to say. Nothing they could do, and very little they could even hope for.

Except maybe a miracle.

T
he next morning, everyone quietly went about his or her business. Vanessa came outside to find Buzz laying pieces of bamboo side by side for a new raft. He’d already split one piece for a new paddle and had begun sharpening another into a spear.

“How long have you been awake?” she asked.

Buzz shook his head. He hadn’t slept, she realized. He’d been up all night, sitting with Carter by the fire and working by torchlight.

It swelled her with a melancholy pride. Her little couch potato of a brother had probably changed more than any of them out here. He certainly wasn’t a couch potato anymore. And he wasn’t giving up, either.

As sad as she felt, she was also glad to have Buzz here, more than ever.

“I don’t think we’re going to be able to fish today,” he said. “What if you and Jane tried to reach the old camp? We could definitely use some coconut to get us by in the meantime.”

Vanessa nodded in agreement. There was so much she wanted to say, but Buzz looked as much on edge as she felt. It seemed best to keep moving and try for the coconut. She put a hand on his shoulder, for just a moment, and then turned to go get Jane.

A few minutes later, she and Jane set out through the woods, following the blazed trail back toward the old camp. They were quiet as they walked, each one busy with her own thoughts. Carter still wasn’t eating, and had drunk barely any water that morning. When they left him, he’d been dozing fitfully by the fire. The image of his pale, sweaty face haunted Vanessa in the silence.

Soon, they came to the place where the mudslide had been. Water trickled down the slope, and a long muddy scar cut right through the middle of the woods. It didn’t take long to figure out that the mud was still too deep to pass.

“Let’s check down by the water,” Vanessa said. “Maybe we can get over the rocks now.”

They cut left and headed downhill. Keeping to the edge of the gully where the mudslide had torn away most of the vegetation, it was an easy pass straight down to the ocean. It only took a few minutes to reach the water.

Coming out into the open, Vanessa stopped again. The warm sunshine felt good on her face. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“Can we sit for a minute?” she asked. “And maybe imagine we’re somewhere else?”

“Where?” Jane asked.

“
Anywhere
else.”

Even though there were a million things to do, it felt to Vanessa like more than just a good idea. Right now, it felt necessary. Her mind hadn’t stopped running since she’d opened her eyes that morning.

Jane didn’t say a word. She sat down on a rock, pulled her knees up tight, and rested her head there.

Vanessa sat down next to her, cross-legged and facing the ocean. She thought about her room back at home. It was strange to imagine it, just sitting there, exactly the way she’d left it, like some kind of movie on pause.

Did her friends even know what was going on? Were the four Benson-Diaz kids in the news? Did everyone think they were dead by now?

This wasn’t helping, Vanessa realized. Maybe it was best just to keep moving.

But then Jane sat up all at once. She looked quizzically at Vanessa.

“What is it?” Vanessa asked.

“Do you hear something?” Jane asked.

“Hear what?”

Jane didn’t respond right away. She was zoned in, clearly catching something that Vanessa couldn’t. Her head was cocked to the side. Her eyes shifted from left to right as if she were trying to envision the image that went with the sound.

“I think that’s an airplane!” she said, and jumped up.

Vanessa leaped up as well. She scanned the horizon but didn’t see any sign of a plane. It seemed as if Jane were imagining something she wanted to hear.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jane,” she said. “There’s nothing there—”

“Shh!” Jane said. “Just listen.”

And then, Vanessa heard it, too. The sound was so small, so faint, they might not have even noticed it if they hadn’t stopped for a moment of quiet on this piece of shoreline. But there it was, growing clearer as Vanessa listened.

“Where is it? Do you see anything?” Vanessa asked. The sky still looked as empty as the air had sounded a moment ago. But the faint engine sound was undeniable. It had to be somewhere.

“There!” Jane said. She pointed south and west, down the shore.

Vanessa squinted that way—and sure enough, Jane was right again. There it was. How had she seen something so small? It looked like a tiny insect just floating in the distance. But there was no denying what it was. A plane.
A second chance at a rescue.
Something she’d begun to think they’d never see.

And maybe this time would be different than the last time.

“We have to light the signal fire!” Jane said, just before they both turned back toward the woods.

Even as Vanessa scrambled uphill, headed for camp, she was screaming Buzz’s and Carter’s names.

Buzz was sitting with Carter on the deck of the ship when the girls came tearing into the cove.

“Buzz! Get a torch!” Jane yelled. “Now! There’s a plane!”

“Hurry!” Vanessa yelled. They were climbing down past the spring and gesturing at him frantically.

Buzz didn’t fully understand, but he’d heard the only thing he needed to know.
Plane
. Immediately, he was dipping a new torch into the fire.

Even Carter was up now, looking around. “What do we do?” he said, half slurring.

“We have to light the signal fire!” Buzz said. The oily rags seemed to take forever, but they finally burst to life. He grasped the flaming torch, jumped off the ship, and ran out toward the mouth of the cove.

“Go grab as much wood as you can!” he yelled at the girls, who had started to follow him. “Anything that’ll burn! Bring it out to the fire. I’ll get it going!”

Jane and Vanessa turned and headed for the ship. Carter was on his way down, already carrying a few logs under his one good arm.

“I’m not even sure if it’s coming this way,” Jane called back. “But it’s definitely out there.”

Buzz could hear the hum of the engine as he came to the place where the cove opened up and gave way to the rocky shoreline of the island. In a flat clearing at the top of the rocks, their signal pyre sat waiting.

“Bring the knife!” he shouted back toward the ship. “We need to cut some fronds!” Fresh green fronds made bright white smoke, he knew. Maybe that would help.

He knelt down and pushed the head of the burning torch into the center of the pyre. The ball of dry grass and kindling there sparked up and started burning right away. That was a good sign, but it had a long way to go if there was any hope of catching the plane’s attention.

Buzz looked up along the shore. He could see it now. The plane was far off but definitely headed their way.

“BURN!” he yelled at the fire. It seemed to be taking way too long. He could see Jane and Vanessa carrying one of the old wooden pallets together out toward where he stood. Carter came behind, much more slowly.

Buzz left the fire to burn and raced to the ship. When he reached the deck again, he grabbed the bucket of oil and another load of wood and headed back.

“Do you still see the plane?” he shouted as he ran. The signal fire was burning well now, but it didn’t look like enough. His heart clenched at the thought of losing another chance at rescue.

“It’s coming!” Jane said. “Hurry, Buzz!”

He reached the others and immediately poured the oil around the base of the flames. The heat of the fire singed his arms, but adrenaline kept him going.

The oil sizzled and smoked for several seconds, then ignited with a burst. It let off a trail of dark smoke, but still, it wasn’t enough. The plane was well within sight now. He could see the shape of it. But the real question was—how did they make the plane see
them
?

“We need it bigger!” Buzz yelled. “What else have we got to burn?”

“I’ll cut some fronds,” Vanessa said. She took the knife and scrambled up toward the woods.

Carter tore off his shirt, wiped it around in the oily bucket, and threw it in. Buzz did the same.

“What else?” Buzz asked. It felt as though the clock on their very last chance was ticking down . . . ticking down. . . .

“I have an idea!” Jane shouted. “Come on, Buzz. Right now!”

She grabbed the torch Buzz had been using and headed back toward the ship. Buzz had no clue what she was thinking, but he took off after her. As he left the signal fire behind, Vanessa was throwing fronds down from the woods, and Carter was doing his best to pile them onto the blaze. Just like everything else, it seemed like too little, too late.

Whatever Jane’s idea was, he hoped it was a good one.