Chapter Two
Hannah
There are two packs. One for me, one for Mich. They each contain food for two weeks, and mine has the tarp in it. Also our spears, daggers, etc. We’re leaving the gun with the camp, we can’t leave it defenseless. My nails are chewed to a stub from nervousness. We hug each person in turn. We are off. Mich and I set off along the beach, the long way around the jungle. We stop momentarily at the Coconut Tree. All the coconuts are gone.
“We go all the way around the beach and then cut across the jungle on the way back,” Mich says.
I cringe at the mention of the jungle. It is late afternoon. We have been walking a long time, at a slow pace.
“Let’s walk a bit more and find a place to sleep,” I suggest. Mich nods. His scar twitches slightly. He gives me a strange look. I am staring. I blush and look away.
We walk, maybe, five or six miles. I hate to admit it, but I am tired. The sun begins to set. We find an adequate spot. I take the tarp out of my bag and drape it over a tree. A tent. A cool breeze makes me shiver.
“I’ll guard first,” I offer.
“You sure?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Yeah. you must be tired, you were up before me,” I say.
“Barely,” Mich mumbles, but he lies down in submission.
It is hard to imagine him as Michael now that he is Mich. The island has changed us all, in a way. I am no longer Hannah. Sar is no longer Sarah. Jos is no longer Joshua. We are different people than we were three, now four months ago. Slowly, I walk around the tent. It is different than the cabin. Jac gave me his watch. It is just after midnight. I will switch with Mich in an hour. Swatting mosquitoes, I sigh, clearly bored. Suddenly, Mich is beside me.
“Can’t sleep?” I ask.
He nods.
“We’ve been here for so long, I can’t sleep without someone beside me,” he replies comprehensively. “That sounds wrong…”
“Sorry, It’s only me here,” I say.
I see his eyes, pleading, looking into my own.
“Until you fall asleep.” I feel like a mother talking to her child. Mich lays down on the barren earth. I feel uncomfortable, sitting beside him.
It is morning. I am laying down. I hear Mich’s snores behind me. His hand is on my arm. With a jolt, I sit up. Mich groans and rolls over. To my shocked expression, he says, “what?”
“‘What’!? Why didn’t you wake me?” I exclaim.
He shrugs.
“You looked comfy,” he says.
“‘Comfy’!? What is a predator attacked us? We would be good as dead,” I say, rubbing my temples.
“Sorry,” Mich replies.
“We could have died!” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m sorry,” Mich says once more.
I wipe tears away with the heel of my palm.
“Let’s go,” I say, and begin to pack up our things.
We eat a simple breakfast of flax seeds. We’re not full. We never are.
Realistic Fiction
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