She started out walking along the beach, but quickly realized that she could save herself some time by climbing to the top of the island, from which she ought to be able to see the entire thing. She turned and headed into the jumble of boulders that made up its middle. This place certainly made Dane's island look like a comfortable refuge, she thought, struggling to climb the broken, uneven rocks. With the addition of a few creature comforts, like electricity, running water, and chickens for eggs, Dane's island would make a lovely rural home.Thisplace was impossible to improve except by paving it and building a hotel.
She scrambled up a tilting slab of rock that got her to the top of the island at last. It really wasn't much. Mira thought that it looked like someone had pushed together a pile of rocks in the middle of the sea, in a rough oblong shape circled with a rocky beach very uninviting for sunbathing or picnicking.
Despite the unfortunate lack of luxury hotels or even comfy cabins, the island did have water. It wasn't a fresh, bubbling spring as on Dane's island, but rather, a fallen slab of rock that was cupped in the middle, forming a natural cistern that had collected rainwater. It looked pure and fresh. Mira climbed down to it, dipped a handful and sipped at it, finding it cool and clean.
The water refreshed her, soothing her dry throat and washing the salt off her lips. She stood up and looked around the island again, and this time she noticed that one of the boulders was oddly square.
Well, that's strange,she thought.
It was on the far side of the island, sitting on the beach at the bottom of the rock jumble. Mira picked her way across the boulders to it. The closer she got, the bigger she realized it was—and the squarer it looked.
Shortly before she got there, she could see that it wasn't stone, it was concrete. She was looking at some kind of bunker.
"What on earth?" Mira said quietly to herself.
The bunker was a concrete structure a little taller than Mira and about as wide as the length of a school bus. It had a flat top that tapered down on both sides. The front was open to the beach. Mira peeked cautiously inside, half afraid of finding someone there. But it was empty. She went inside. It was empty and weathered. There were the remains of old bolts embedded in the concrete floor and walls, as thick as her thumb and rusted away to smears of orange powder from years of salt and damp.
"World War Two," Mira murmured aloud.
Despite the loneliness and isolation of this place, this must be some kind of old gun emplacement or lookout. Maybe from the second world war, maybe from the Cold War. Whatever the reason, it must have been decommissioned long ago, any equipment that it had once contained having been retrieved. Now it was just a concrete box looking out on the sea.
It was, however, a great improvement over camping in the open on the beach.
Mira left the bunker, startling a small flock of seabirds who rose with screeching cries into the air. She watched them go thoughtfully, wondering if they might have eggs. Then she shook her head at herself. There would be time for that sort of thinking when their rations ran out—and hopefully it wouldn't come to that if they managed to get rescued.
She climbed quickly over the boulders, back to where she had left Dane.
"Dane!" she called. "Are you awake? I found some things!"
She jumped down into the sandy hollow where she had left him. It was empty. There was nothing but a neatly folded blanket and the emergency pack.
"Dane!"
Mira called his name, turning all the way around. There was no one visible on the beach, and no sound except the crash of waves.
He wasn't well enough to go anywhere, she thought wildly. And he was naked!
Could someone else have come here? But how? There were no signs of a boat, and she would have heard an airplane or helicopter.
Finally she thought to look for tracks. She found them easily, bare footprints in the sand, leaving the blanket and walking down to the rocky part of the beach. At that point it was impossible to follow them anymore, but at least she knew where Dane had gone: into the water.
He hadn't left her—had he?
"Dane!" she called again, plaintively.
Nothing answered her but the lonely cries of the gulls.
DANE
The water,as always, reinvigorated Dane. He was still weary and sore, but he felt better after he had hunted for breakfast. He could see no reason to use up the rations in the emergency pack when he could perfectly well feed himself from the ocean's bounty.
He had seen Mira on top of the rocks, so he knew she was all right. He was so shaky that he doubted it was a good idea to try to follow her in his human form, especially barefoot. A quick swim around the island to hunt and replenish his depleted calories would let him restore himself and also give him a chance to do a bit of recon from the ocean.
There was not much to see. Circling the island, he saw Mira find the old bunker and then disappear from view again. Dane swam out a little farther, using his echolocation to scout for boats, which might mean danger (if they belonged to the enemy) or a rescue. But he found nothing. It seemed that they were well and truly alone here.
He swam back to the island and breached the surf just in time to hear Mira calling his name.
"Dane!"
