Echoes of The Past
~ Island – Pacific ~
Sunlight radiated into Tom’s face. Slowly he opened his eyes, blinking out the brightness as he lifted himself up and spat out a collection of sand and salt. His throat burned and his tongue was swollen; shaking his head sent needles shooting through his head.
Water was his first thought. Suddenly he remembered what happened last night. The shredded bits of timber which littered the beach around him were slamming him back into reality, shipwrecked. He looked about, panic setting in, searching for Martin. Relief. He spotted him lying face down on the beach a little further away, he tried to get up. Immediately pain seared through his legs, he looked down to find his jeans torn and his legs, scratched and bloody. For a moment confusion enveloped his mind, then he realised it would’ve been the corals as the waves flung him onto them. Looking out into the bay he could make out where the cruise ship got stranded, imprisoned on deadly reefs.
With effort he stumbled towards Martin. What if he is dead? What happened to the others, did they all die? Panic, over powering, started to surge through him again but quickly he saw Martin move and cough up seawater. Tom dragged himself across the last stretch between them and collapsed in silence next to him.
Martin’s brown hair was dishevelled and his square jaw looked like it’d been cut under his lower lip. His eyes were dark brown and mysterious, sitting in an angular face with a straight nose and thin lips. Martin was tall, a basketball player. He was exceptionally good, had been selected to play for an NBA team; the Lakers, no small feat for a high school grad to be selected for the junior squad.
‘I guess we’re alive,’ was all Tom managed, running a hand through his dishevelled dark blonde hair. His lean figure was laced with cuts, his slightly crooked nose looked like it had taken another beating and his hazel eyes were downcast and hollow; more so than usual.
Martin rattled a single word, ‘water,’ he croaked.
Tom could barely nod. ‘Let’s look for a stream. I think we’re on an island. The ship must’ve hit a reef.’ As he’d said it he realised he shouldn’t have, he’d involuntarily reminded Martin of the possibility that his parents could be dead, that they were the sole survivors.
‘Where’re my parents?’ asked Martin even though he knew the realistic answer.
‘I dunno, I think I saw them get into the dinghy, I’m guessing wherever they are, they’ll be better off than us. Let’s find that water so we don’t die of thirst.’
‘Sure, whatever,’ came the subdued reply.
They hobbled, supporting each other, all the way towards one end of the beach. They were in a small cove, and the direction they were walking towards ended in a headland which sloped upwards towards the sea. Next to it a stream ran into the ocean. Gasping in anticipation Tom limped faster, Martin just behind. They splashed into the stream drinking their fill, washing out sand from cuts and scratches and getting rid of the salty taste in their mouths.
‘I’ve never been more grateful for a drink in my life,’ Tom breathed out.
The two were resting under the shade of the forest which bordered the beach, the sun was beating down fiercely, sure to leave a ruthless burn.
‘Do you think they’re still alive?’ At first Tom had no idea what he was on about. Then it clicked.
‘I’m sure they’re fine, don’t worry!’ he replied reassuringly. Martin grunted in response. Tom’s stomach grumbled noisily, a fresh reminder of their predicament.
‘Yeah... same, I’m starved,’ commented Martin. The two stood up on shaky legs and began to forage around the area. Bananas hanging from a tree were their best catch and with great difficulty Tom managed to climb up and grab a bunch. He lost his footing and plummeted. The fall winding him painfully.
Sheepishly Tom turned round and picked up a bunch of very squashed bananas.
‘So much for this lot. You fancy grabbing the next bunch?’ Tom’s grin was apologetic.
‘Well I don’t reckon they’re going to taste like much, but we might as well eat them, better than nothing.’
The beach was a small cove, a cliff covered in vegetation with rocks around the bottom marked the opposite end. The stream they’d drunk from split the beach in two as it trailed into the sea. As they ventured further away from the waterline, a light forest with sandy soil took over. There the stream was narrow and the two managed to step across comfortably. They doubled back towards the waterline, walking parallel to the headland and as they did, they came upon a small cave. It was so low they had to crouch to get in. The cave mouth was wide and it was dark inside, a sandy floor making it dry.
‘This looks like it’s all we’re gonna find, Mart,’ Tom finished lamely as he looked out over the bay at the darkening sky. Reality began to sink in harshly.
‘If there’s a single spider, I’m not going anywhere near that place.’
Rolling his eyes so that Martin couldn’t see, Tom ducked inside and gave it a quick once over. ‘All clear mate.’
Martin crawled into the cave and lay down right at the back. Tom preferred a spot nearer to the entrance.
‘Everyone always dreams of being shipwrecked, like Robinson Cruiso, but I reckon its crap,’ said Martin, sleepily.
‘Funny that.’
‘Yeah well maybe there’s civilisation and an airport on the other side and we’ll be rescued.’
‘Yeah... Maybe.’ Tom didn’t have as much optimism. ‘I’m too tired to think, which is good cos if I could, I don’t know if I could handle it.’ A loud yawn escaped Martin’s mouth.
‘Catching flies now huh?’ Tom couldn’t help but grin, as he drifted off into a troubled sleep.
***
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