Stranded Page 7

  “You ok?” Joss asked, stopping for a break. He reached out for her but she shied away, unsure how to navigate their new intimacy. He didn’t seem to notice the subtleness in her body language and grabbed her hand.

  “Yes, but I need to say something,” he began tightly, his eyes dropping to the ground.

  “Ok, what is it,” she coaxed, “talk to me.”

  He smiled nervous, hesitating for a moment before asking, “any regrets?”

  Joss shook her head slowly, curious about where he was going. She’d been thinking about their urgent, spontaneous love-making herself, trying to process her feelings, but regret wasn’t amongst them.

  “Good, good. Listen Joss, that wasn’t like me. I mean, it is, but...well, I don’t usually bang women I hardly know...” he stammered, as though searching for the right words. Joss squeezed his hand, surprised by his obvious discomfort. “And when it does happen, I’m usually a lot more careful...” He brushed his free hand across his forehead, wiping away the perspiration.

  Reading his face, it took Joss a moment to register his concern. Was he worried about STDs?

  “Ah,” she acknowledged, feeling a little foolish herself. She’d been so caught up in the moment, condoms never even crossed her mind. She was rarely that careless, especially when it came to safety, but he didn’t need to worry about her. She could count her lovers on one hand, and Ryan happened to be one of them. She slowly looked him up and down, suddenly wondering if she needed to worry about catching something from him.

  “Right,” she breathed, dropping his hand. She uncapped the water bottle and took a quick swig, then offered it to him. He declined, gently waving it away. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m clean as a whistle,” she assured, recapping the lid.

  He cocked his head and smiled at her.

  “Me too. Listen, I’m sorry, I should have been more considerate,” he apologized, clearly irritated with himself. “That was stupid...”

  “Please, don’t. We were impulsive and horny. I wasn’t really thinking straight either. You have to admit, we’ve been under a lot of stress. Let’s just move on, ok?” she insisted, trying to get past the discomfort, her earlier confidence waning.

  He nodded, still not convinced, then paused for a moment before adding, “Joss, is there any chance you’re on the pill? Birth control?”

  She wasn’t. Of course he would worry about that, but the thought had not even crossed her mind.

  Joss couldn’t get pregnant. Not ever again.

  “No,” she answered quietly, clearing her throat. It was hard to talk about it. Ryan looked at her nervously, brows raised.

  “I can’t get pregnant,” she whispered, dropping her eyes. “It’s a long story...so if you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk about it right now. Ok?”

  “Oh,” he sighed, clearly caught off guard, “I’m sorry, Joss. Of course it’s ok.”

  She glanced up into his concerned eyes and nodded, grateful for the understanding, but he still looked like he needed something else from her, something more. She wasn’t sure what to say.

  “If you ever want to talk about it, Joss, I’m a good listener,” he promised, taking her hand again. His concern moved her and she leaned in, kissing him softly.

  “Good looking, good in bed, and a good listener. You really are a triple threat, aren’t you?” she teased, hoping a little humor would help them move past it.

  “I’m also a good cook,” he bragged softly, pulling her closer.

  She rolled her eyes playfully and grinned, “Jeepers, you are a keeper, aren’t you?”

  “Tell that to my ex,” he blurted, a little more sharply than he intended.

  She raised her brows, surprised, and a little curious, by the reveal.

  “Oh?”

  “Never mind,” he lamented, kissing her forehead. “Let’s keep going, the others will be worried.”

  Joss nodded, slipping out of his embrace, but he quickly drew her back.

  “Listen, I know we need to be discreet. The situation we’re in calls for it, but I just want you to know that I’m glad this happened,” he assured, casually gesturing between them. “You’re an intriguing woman, Joss.”

  She smiled sweetly at him, flattered by the compliment, and in total agreement about the discretion. She wouldn’t chance upsetting anyone, she thought, her mind drifting to the captain, suddenly annoyed that she gave a damn what he thought.

  “One more kiss for the road?” he asked. She stared thoughtfully into his eyes for a moment, then raised her chin for his kiss.

  * * *

  “We just got lucky,” Willie exclaimed, recounting their fishing expedition. Ryan caught Joss’ eye, and stifled a naughty grin, as though recalling how ‘lucky’ they had gotten too. Joss gave him a stern warning look, before turning back to her task. She was sorting through the bag, taking stock of everything they’d foraged for supper.

  “We tried the homemade spears for a bit, but just couldn’t get the hang of it. After a while the fish seemed to catch on that we were trying to kill them and they just disappeared, so we took a break. When we went back in with the net, I tied one end off to a spear and held the other end while Daniel steered them my way. It worked! I was able to snag two of these suckers!” he continued, pulling a fish out of the handmade basket. It looked two, maybe three pounds.

  “That would be a mullet,” Captain Grant drawled, gesturing towards Willie’s catch. “Nice job, mate.”

  “Thanks man. How are ya feeling?”

  “Better than this morning, I reckon. I might even be able to help you clean your catch,” he assured, gesturing for Willie to bring over the basket. “And please, stop calling me captain, all-a-ya. It’s Grant.”

  Joss looked up from her task, surprised by his change in demeanor. He did seem a lot kinder than he had earlier that day. Maybe he did need time to get his bearings straight, just as she suspected.

  “And what about you, Missy? What did you rustle up?” Grant asked, catching her eye. He looked down at the wrap she’d spread on the ground, to the assortment of edibles she and Ryan had found, an amused expression on his face.

  “A few different plants we can eat, berries. The mango might taste really nice with the fish,” she offered, proud of the offerings they’d worked so hard to find.

  “Not sure it’s safe for us to be eating some of that, girly. Unless you know exactly what you’re doing, there are plants in that jungle that can be fatal,” he scolded, waving his hand, a flippant gesture that dismissed their efforts. She felt steam rising up her neck, once again irritated by his patronizing attitude, but she would be damned if she’d show it. She needed to keep a cool head. Men like him loved to get a rise out of women just so they could tell them to calm down. She could hear him already, ‘No need to cream yourself, missy...settle down now, settle down.’

  “Thanks, Captain,” she sneered, “I think we’ll be fine.”

  He rolled his eyes toward Willie, as if to say, ‘who are you going to trust, me or this sheila, mate?’. Willie just grinned and put his hands up in front of him, his body language denoting a clear ‘leave me outta this one’. He winked as soon as he caught Joss’ eye, though, letting her know he had no issues.

  “I don’t know about you guys but I’ll eat whatever Joss brought us,” Charles endorsed, crouching down beside her. He glanced over at Grant and slowly nodded, as if to say, ‘be cool, man’.

  Joss was beginning to understand that men had a subtle language all their own, conveying so much with their simple gestures. They didn’t need a lot of words to understand each other. Fascinating creatures, she thought, smiling to herself. She was sure it wouldn’t take her long to blend with the natives. She was already picking up on their kinetic dialect.

  “I’m just saying, it’s best to be careful,” Grant smirked, “none of us can afford to get sick. We’re a long way from a hospital.”

  “True enough,” Charles agreed, “but I think Joss knows what she’s doing, don’
t you, Joss?”

  She turned to him and smiled, offering a quick nod of the head.

  “You bet. I’ve been studying plants a long time, haven’t killed anyone yet,” she replied, a little more sarcastic than she meant to. “Plus, I’ve been studying this manual,” she smirked, recovering quickly. She pulled the book out of her bag and held it up so Grant could see it, ‘Vanna White’ style. “I’ve got us covered,” she said, smiling brightly at him, hoping to win him over. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and snorted, dismissing her once again. It took everything she had not to throw the book at him.

  Chapter 12

  Five days on the island had passed, a full week since the crash, and they had not seen any sign of rescue. No passing ships, and no planes overhead. Not a sign of civilization anywhere, aside from ocean plastic and random garbage washing up on shore.

  Grant, once feeling better, had waded out to where his plane was moored, so he could inspect the damage. He didn’t have good news to report. The communication system was completely fried, as well as the electrical. Given the dire nature of the situation, he was lucky he’d been able to land the plane at all, and not kill everyone on board.

  “Well, the aircraft is cooked, I’m afraid.”

  Grant sat down at the fire, placing his tool box in front of him. He was shirtless and soaking wet, his uniform slacks clinging to him. His dark hair, curling from the humidity, gave him a tousled, boyish appearance. If Joss didn’t know him better, she would have almost thought him charming.

  “A canoe would be more useful at this point,” he continued, taking the dish of food that Daniel offered him. On it was a tiny bit of crab, some greens and mango, and some sort of protein he couldn’t identify. “What’s this then?” he asked, holding up the well cooked meat.

  “Breakfast. Just eat it man, you don’t want to know,” Ryan teased. He smiled cheekily at him and popped the mystery meat into his own mouth, chewing with great flourish. Grant shrugged and took one bite, and then a second.

  “It’s actually not bad. Tastes like chicken.”

  “Sure,” Daniel chuckled, “let’s go with that.”

  “Joss brought it back this morning. The traps she set up yesterday worked. She’s amazing!” Ryan boasted, patting her on the back.

  Joss smiled nervously but didn’t respond, glancing up from her journal for just a moment to acknowledge the compliment. She’d found herself offering very little when the captain was around, and not because she was intimidated by him, but because she just didn’t like him. He always seemed to find a way to undermine her when she was around, so she found it safer to keep her mouth shut, rather than risk telling him what she really thought. The last thing any of them needed was more stress. That kind of conflict would only distract them. They needed to focus on staying alive.

  “So what is it?” Grant asked, taking another bite.

  Ryan smiled broadly and blurted, “Rat!”

  “Yup, apparently there’s no shortage of them on our little island. As long as we can keep catching them, we won’t starve,” Willie interjected, taking a sip of water.

  He handed the bottle to Charles, who took a mouthful of his own.

  “Forgive my ignorance, Grant, but what about radar?” Charles asked, getting back down to business. “Wouldn’t the air traffic controller be aware of our location through radar or the flight plan? And what about the transponder?”

  “Nah, mate, it’s a good question. These little commuters hop from one island to another, and we fly in class D or E airspace. That means we stay out of flight paths reserved for commercial airlines and such. We typically don’t talk to Air Traffic Control or share our flight plans. Some of the other larger island commuters do, but being independent, I don’t make a habit of it,” Grant patiently explained. “Either way, radar has very limited range.”

  “And the transponder?”

  “Well, that’s where we have a problem. The transponder on my aircraft is connected to the electrical system. Something caused the system to short-out. My best guess, we got hit by lightning. Some transponders have a back up battery as a fail safe, but mine didn’t.”

  Joss, who had been following along, discreetly taking notes, suddenly chimed in, “What about the E.L.T.?”

  Grant looked over at her, brows raised, as though he’d forgotten she was there. She held his gaze, her expression flat, passively waiting for a snarky come back. He smiled slyly at her, and shook his head.

  “What’s that?” Charles asked thoughtfully, looking back and forth between Joss and Grant. He was well aware of the strain between them.

  “It’s the Emergency Locator Transmitter,” Grant offered, breaking gaze first. Joss couldn’t help feeling victorious, even if it was in just a small way.

  “It’s a piece of equipment that broadcasts a distinctive S.O.S. signal on designated frequencies,” he continued, “It’s usually activated by impact. In this case, that didn’t happen. The plane is still intact.”

  A man of few words, Willie sat forward, clearing his throat, “is there a way to manually make it trigger, set the beacon off?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid not. There are different types of E.L.T.’s, and the one on my aircraft doesn’t have a manual option.”

  “So basically we’re buggered,” Daniel sighed, glancing at Joss for support.

  All the men had started relying on her for comfort or reassurance. Maybe it was because she was the only woman there, or maybe she seemed the most at ease in the middle of no where, but either way, they seemed to need her. Grant caught the look and screwed up his face. It was quick, and the others probably missed it, but not Joss. She was acutely aware of his disdain toward her, and discreetly watched his body language. She wished she knew why he disliked her so much. She couldn’t think of anything she’d done, or had not done, that could have triggered it. She didn’t want to admit it, but it bothered her, even made her uneasy.

  “Looks that way,” Grant offered, more directly than unkindly. “Without our coordinates, it’ll be like trying to find a teardrop in the ocean, mate.”

  “But they are looking for us, Daniel. Our families are seeing to that,” Joss assured, reaching out to pat his knee. “Ryan’s a famous actor! Hell, the paparazzi are probably out looking for him! He’s headline news for sure! And Charles? Big business tycoon? Surely when you didn’t make it to your destination, your team sent out the calvary, right?”

  She nodded hopefully, her expression begging him to offer them something, anything, reassuring.

  “Well, I wish I could say yes, but no one really knows where I am,” Charles admitted solemnly, disappointed he couldn’t reassure her more. Instead, he smiled weakly, hoping it would suffice.

  More puzzled than surprised, Ryan said, baffled, “No one? How is that possible?”

  Charles cocked his head and sighed, wishing he’d been more trusting with his team, or in the very least, his personal assistant. He felt foolish for not providing his itinerary to someone.

  “It’s sounds stupid now, but I came to the South Pacific to view some real estate. I didn’t want anyone to know my whereabouts because I was afraid someone would alert my competition,” he shrugged, catching Joss’ eye. He saw the disappointment on her face, for a fraction of a second, and felt horrible.

  “But surely you had the information somewhere. When you don’t show up for work soon, they’ll go digging through your desk looking for clues to your whereabouts, ransack your office or something, right?” Daniel implored, doing his best to control his own nerves. He wondered how his own family had reacted to the news of the crash. Surely they would have used their resources to try to find him, he thought, reserving the hope that in spite of his recent rebellion, they still cared enough to send out a search party.

  “I’m sure they will,” Charles agreed flatly, feeling less than hopeful that they’d find anything. He had covered his tracks well. Maybe his business partners would hire a P.I. to track him, look into his phone records and such. Of co
urse they would, he surmised, more or less convincing himself.

  “Certainly they will! The captain would have registered his passenger list, right?” Joss looked his way and received a quick, affirming nod. “See? It’s likely the world already knows we’re missing. All of us. They are coming!”

  “That’s all well and good,” Grant began, not even trying to be supportive, “but Fiji is an archipelago of more than 330 islands, of which over 200 are uninhabited, and more than 500 islets, amounting to a total land area of over 18,000 square kilometers, For you Yanks, that’s 7000 square miles. We are lost on one of those two hundred islands somewhere inside those eighteen thousand kilometers. Presuming they think we haven’t crashed to our deaths, it would take a mad stroke of luck for search and rescue to find us.”

  All eyes were on him, each of them wrestling with their own emotions, ranging from denial and fear, to unwavering faith and hopefulness. If Joss was on the side of faith, then Captain Grant was way on the other end of the spectrum. The man was clearly not an optimist. Joss presumed that the rest of the castaways were somewhere in between, and she meant to convert them to her side. They needed to stay positive.

  “That may be so, but miracles happen every day. Guys, don’t worry, we’re going to be ok. We’re actually quite fortunate that we had so many useful things in our luggage, and the island has plenty to forage. I know there is water somewhere. There has to be. We will find it any day now, I promise,” she insisted, deliberately looking each of them in the eye, including Grant. He smirked at her, as though amused by the ramblings of a silly woman, at least that was how she interpreted it. She quickly shifted her gaze back to Daniel.

  “We’re not buggered, not by a long shot. Okay?”