Stranded Read online

Page 14


  She could see he was losing his patience, but they’d almost reached the location. It didn’t make sense to turn back. They were only an hour from camp, surely they could suck it up just a little longer. She sighed heavily under her breath, and pressed on, in spite of his protesting.

  “Jesus, you’re a stubborn woman,” he groaned, shuffling behind her.

  She ignored his remark, too tired to react. She was on a mission and complaining wasn’t going to make it any easier. The sky was definitely going to open up, making the rest of the trek home miserable, but she was hoping they could at least beat the worst of it. She heard an ominous grumble, right on cue, as though the weather was definitively taking Grant’s side. She picked up her pace, in spite of the strain on her shoulders, hoping he was keeping up.

  “This is it, just around the bend,” she panted, allowing let him catch up.

  Grant did not look happy. They were soaking wet, both from the humidity and their exertion, but she was sure the breeze would cool them down before long. They could just grab the bananas and take a quick break before continuing on the last leg of the journey, she surmised. She knew they were taking an unnecessary risk, but the reward was worth it.

  “You okay?” she asked, noticing him grimace, as though his anger shifted to pain.

  He carefully set his bags down, grunting his displeasure. His answer was short, and he refused to meet her eyes. “I’m fine.”

  He was pissed, and beyond tired, but he wasn’t keen on the idea of looking like a chump in front of her. If she could do it, so could he. He welcomed the breeze on his back, but also worried about the quickly dropping temperature. There was a storm coming. She smiled at him but he was no longer in the mood for pleasantries.

  Joss just shrugged her shoulders and quickly looked away, unwilling to argue with him. She dropped her own load, stretching out her back, before retrieving her knife out of one of her bags. She tucked it into the back of her shorts, and with a quick nod, gestured him to follow her. He rooted through his own bags and picked up last bottle of their clean water, following her the last thirty feet.

  “They’re pretty high up. Do you think you can hoist me up?” she asked, stopping in front of the tree. “I think if you lift me past the first branch, I can shimmy up the rest of the way.” She wasn’t sure how much gas she had left in the tank, but she was damn well going to do her best. Failure was not an option, especially since Grant was already annoyed with her.

  He looked up, assessing the climb, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “This is a stupid idea, Joss,” he blurted, a little more sharply than he intended. He quickly adjusted his tone, noting the look of irritation on her face. He was annoyed with her, true, but didn’t want them to take a step backwards either. “I mean, it would be challenging to make a climb like that on a good day, but Christ, we’re exhausted.”

  “If you can just lift me up, I know I can do it,” she insisted. She took the water from him and swallowed a mouthful before handing it back to him. He took a long swig of his own, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking, as though he still thought she was crazy.

  “Hmmm,” he mumbled, offering her the last of the water.

  “Look we can stand here and argue about it or just work together and get it done. The faster we get moving the sooner we can get back. There’s definitely rain coming.” She offered, mindful of her tone. She swallowed the last of the water, tossing the bottle to the side.

  “Yeah, I know. That’s what I’m worried about. We should’ve just kept moving,” he scolded, more out of concern than anger. She rolled her eyes anyway, clearly taking his words the wrong way. He didn’t blame her, his patience was running thin too.

  “Well, we’re here now. Let’s not squabble about it,” she shrugged, carefully censoring herself.

  Grant chuckled softly, smart enough to know that she was far too head strong to take no for an answer. He bent down and cupped his hands for her to step into. She nodded at him curtly, allowing him to lift her. As soon as she was high enough, she held the trunk firmly so he could shift his body closer to the tree. She used his shoulders to hoist herself higher, then leveraged herself before shimmying up, leaving him to watch her ascend from below. In spite of his irritation, he was impressed with her skills. Climbing without gear wasn’t an easy thing to do, and those wild banana trees grew pretty tall. She was at least 15 feet off the ground.

  “I’m going to cut this bunch down, make sure they don’t hit you,” she called out, taking the knife out of the back of her shorts. She held the sheath in her mouth to ease the blade out, then started whacking at the thick stem.

  Grant moved to the side, holding his breath as she rocked dangerously on a limb, right above him. She made quick work of it and seconds later the bananas landed on the ground beside him.

  “I’ll be damned, she did it,” he whispered under his breath.

  Seconds later Joss dropped to the jungle floor with a deafening thud. He quickly dropped to his knees, terrified he would find her breathless. He anxiously pushed the knife out of his way. The damn thing had landed right beside her head. An inch to the left and it might have killed her.

  “Fuck Joss, what did you do?” he stammered, his heart pounding inside his chest. He crawled around to her side, listening for breath sounds, too afraid to move her. She was unconscious but breathing, barely, as though the wind had been knocked out of her. He ran his hands over her head and neck carefully, checking for blood or fractures, continuing the process down her body. She didn’t appear to have broken anything, but he couldn’t be sure and he knew enough not to move her. He sat on his knees, too shocked to even blink, trying to process the situation. He was dangerously close to losing it, but knew he needed to keep his shit together. He took a long, deep breath, before slipping off his shirt to cover her. This was always the worst case scenario, one of them getting injured, and it happened to Joss. On his watch.

  “Joss, I’m here,” he choked, wiping the mud away from her face and hair. “You’re okay, silly girl. It will be okay...” His tender words, meant to soothe her, offered nothing to convince himself. He was scared to death.

  He sat with her for a few more minutes, unsure what to do, listening to her shallow breaths. He was certain they were getting stronger, and hoped to god it wasn’t just wishful thinking. The wind was picking up, chilling him, but the adrenalin coursing through his veins made it barely noticeable. He knew it would be dark within an hour or two, sooner if the rain started. Even if she did come to, she would be in no condition to walk, and he couldn’t leave her alone to get help. He needed to make a shelter for them, and quick!

  He rose to his feet, picking up her knife, then searched for its sheath. It was several feet away, hidden under some ground fall. He was lucky he found it. He slid the blade inside before tucking it into his waistband, returning to where they had left their supplies. He carried everything back to the banana tree, as quickly as he could, before checking on Joss again. She was moaning softly under her breath, but still had not regained consciousness.

  Then he felt it, the first drops of rain. He couldn’t waste any time. If he didn’t build them a shelter, she would be exposed to the elements all night. If nothing else, he needed to keep her safe, until he could figure out what to do.

  Grant looked through their things for anything that might be useful to help him build a shelter but there was nothing, aside from the knife and his wits. The easiest thing to construct would be a lean-to, especially since he couldn’t safely move her. He could build it up against the banana tree using bamboo poles, then use the leaves for a roof. He just had to figure out how to secure it all together! A lean-to was a primitive haven, but at least it would protect them from the wind and rain, and with a little elbow grease, he could build it in less an hour. He lifted Joss’ arm to check the time. It was almost four o’clock.

  He looked at her watch again, a look of relief spreading across his handsome, mud stained face.

&nb
sp; “Atta girl,” he said, slipping it off her wrist. “You just saved me a ton of time.”

  He quickly pulled the watch apart, placing everything but the paracord into her bag. The rest of the survival items could possibly come in handy, especially the flint.

  “I’ll be right back,” he reassured, taking a moment to stroke her hair. He was still worried about her, preferring to stay near by, but he had to get supplies for the shelter.

  Over the next hour he came and went, bringing back bamboo poles and fronds. The thunder echoing in the distance, was creeping closer and closer to the island. He looked up through the canopy towards the darkening sky. The drizzle coming down a little steadier, warned him of the downpour to come.

  He quickly assembled the shelter, using the paracord to secure the largest pole between the trees closest to Joss. He tied each end securely before leaning the thinner poles side by side against the lean-to. He didn’t plan on being there long, so making it perfect was not his priority. He just needed to keep them warm and dry for the night. Hopefully Joss would be okay by the morning. He forced himself not to think beyond that or consider the worst. His needless worrying would serve no one.

  He left and returned several more times, his arms loaded with fronds. He was grateful he didn’t have to go far for those and was able to find enough to make the roof relatively waterproof. He was just glad she was finally out of the rain. Ideally he would have liked her off the ground, but it would have to do. He made a rudimentary curtain with the rest of the fronds, to protect the open side of the shelter. Without a fire, they would need it to keep out mosquitos, along with the rain and wind. Finally, he pushed away as much ground cover and debris as he could, clearing the area to make it less desirable for snakes, spiders and insects to cuddle up beside them throughout the night. It had already cooled off more than he liked. His best guess was it was that it was probably 68 degrees, and dropping. Once the storm hit, it would get much colder.

  He pulled their supplies into the lean-to, tucking them out of the way before settling in beside Joss. He wished he’d had a blanket to cover her, or at least the wrap she was always wearing around camp. He had worked up quite a sweat and it wouldn’t be long before he felt the chill himself, but he wouldn’t dare take back his shirt. She needed it more than he did. Grant slapped a mosquito off his forearm, before refilling an empty bottle with water they’d collected at the waterfall. He knew he was taking a risk drinking unboiled water, but he had no choice, he was dangerously dehydrated. He was fairly certain it was clean and fire was definitely not going to be an option that night.

  Joss groaned softly, unconsciously shifting her left leg. It was the first time he’d seen her move since the fall, and he let out a loud sigh of relief, as though he’d been holding his breath the whole time. Seeing her finally move almost made him cry; she could have easily been paralyzed. She wasn’t out of the woods yet, but at least she’d be able walk out on her own accord.

  He wished he’d brought his cell phone, for light, so he could continue examining her throughout the night. He hated admitting it, but he was nervous. He wasn’t thrilled being out in the middle of the jungle without a fire. As if on cue, the lightning cracked over head, lighting up their rickety little shelter. Oddly enough, it didn’t make him feel any safer.

  * * *

  The storm blew in quickly, soaking the ground beneath them. Grant surrounded Joss with leaves, and for several hours, tried to keep her as warm and dry as possible. It didn’t help much, but at least it was something. He thought he could hear her teeth chattering, laughing when he realized it was him. He cuddled up beside her to share her body heat. It surprised him how comforting it was, feeling her body so close to his own. It had been a long time since he’d held a woman, and being beside her reminded him just how lonely that had been.

  He’d done it to himself, the self-imposed exile. Plenty of women wanted to date him, he was a pilot after all. He liked to pretend it was his rugged features and charming personality (said tongue-in-cheek) but in truth, it was the uniform. The ladies loved it. When he’d drop into the local watering-hole after work, they would buy him drinks, slip him their numbers, even outright ask him to take them home, but he rarely did.

  If luck was his middle name, bad was his first. He’d told Joss earlier that he was cursed and he meant it. He’d always thought he was better off alone, at least then he didn’t have to worry about bringing harm to anyone else. Forget about falling in love. He could never let himself do that again.

  Joss groaned beside him, her breath shallower, more controlled, as though she was coming to. He sat up and leaned over her. Although his eyes had adjusted to the dark, he could only see the form of her body and face. She whimpered quietly, making him reach for her hand.

  “It’s okay, I’m here. Try not to move,” he urged, gently squeezing her fingers.

  “Wh...what happened? Where are we...” she asked, trying to shift herself. The pain was obviously too much. “Ow, fuck.” She raised a hand to her head, pressing it to the back of her skull.

  “We’re in the jungle. You fell out of the tree, hit the ground hard. Scared the piss out of me, you did,” he offered calmly, trying not to worry her. She tried to brush the fronds off of herself, but Grant stopped her, gently touching her shoulder. “Leave yourself covered, girly, the mozzies are biting pretty bad.”

  “Ah, we’re back to girly I see. How long have I been out?” she chuffed, still trying to get her bearings straight.

  “About four hours, I reckon.”

  She eased her hand away from his, and raised her wrist, as through trying to read her watch. Grant gently laid her hand back down on her chest, patting it warmly.

  “I took it apart,” he whispered, “to build the shelter. The rest of your watch is in a safe place.”

  “My lighter, it’s inside my right pocket. Did you find it?” she asked, her voice cracking from thirst.

  “No, Joss, I didn’t think you’d appreciate me feeling you up,” he teased. He’d actually never thought to check her pockets. Her lighter wouldn’t have helped much anyway, aside from offering a little bit of light. It was too wet to make a fire.

  “Grab it for me?” she pleaded, his flirty words missing their mark. He shifted himself so he could reach into her pocket, mindful not to caress her more than he had to. It wasn’t easy. Resting beside her had stirred something up in him, an arousal he’d been unacquainted with for a long time.

  “I found it,” he said, raising his hand.

  “Will you light it? I need to get my bearings straight.”

  He did as she asked and lit the space for several seconds, until the lighter got too hot to handle. He had to admit, as hastily as he had slapped the shelter together, it didn’t look too shabby.

  “Not bad,” she whispered. “Is there any water?”

  “Yes, but it’s not boiled. It’s the water we collected today.”

  “Have you been drinking it?” she asked. He could sense she was trying to rise up and slipped his arm behind her.

  “Yeah. Go easy, real slow, mate. I’m worried you might have really busted yourself up,” he pleaded, helping her upright.

  “I think I’m okay. Must have landed on my tailbone though. It feels pretty bruised.”

  “You scared me pretty bad.”

  “I don’t even remember falling,” she admitted. “I feel like an idiot.”

  Grant stroked her back, biting his tongue. He’d warned her not to do it, but reminding her of that wasn’t going to make her feel any better. Joss let out a deep breath and cradled her head in her hands. Her quiet sobs filling their tiny space, drowning out the nighttime cricket chorus. He held her awkwardly, wishing he knew the right thing to say. Comforting women was not something that came easy to him.

  “You’re alright, mate,” he soothed, hating how graceless he felt. “It’s gonna be fine.”

  “I can’t believe that happened. What was I thinking?” she sobbed, stiffening under his hug. He could tel
l she hated feeling so vulnerable. He was all too familiar with that feeling himself. He discreetly released his embrace, unsure what she wanted from him, what she needed. Was his touch unwelcome?

  She sighed, roughly wiping the tears off her face, staring at him through the dark. Neither of them moved, as though both were struggling with unfamiliar emotions. He wished he could read her mind. The silence was torture.

  “I need to pee,” she blurted, rolling away from him, pawing the ground for her boots.

  “Easy, slow down,” he insisted, reluctantly handing them to her. He didn’t like the idea of her moving around so much, especially since they didn’t really know the extent of her injuries. “I’ll go with you.”

  “I think I’m quite capable of peeing on my own,” she scoffed, pulling her boots on.

  “Girly, you fell fifteen feet out of a tree and have been unconscious for the last four hours. You have no idea what you’re capable of at the moment,” he pressed, doing his best to control his patience. He hated that she could be so bullheaded. “I’m going with you.”

  “I’m fine, Captain. I’ll be right back,” she offered sternly, pushing her palm into his chest, leaving no doubt she meant to go alone. He rolled his eyes, confident the darkness would mask his irritation. God, she was stubborn! Joss pulled his shirt away and handed it to him before slipping out of the shelter.

  The rain chilled her instantly, her violent shivers making her head ache worse than it already did. Her stomach dangerously rolled in her gut. She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle, willing herself not to vomit. She didn’t want to admit it, especially to him, but she was not in good shape. She was grateful that she didn’t break her neck, but she definitely didn’t come away unscathed, and on top of everything else, her ego was badly bruised.

  She’d made a mistake, climbing that tree. He was right, they were too exhausted to push themselves and she had insisted, refusing to look weak in front of him. Maybe she had been trying to prove something to him; that she deserved the respect the other men had given her, that same respect she needed from him. She wanted him to see how strong and capable she was, to be impressed with her, and it went horribly wrong.