CHAPTER SEVEN
ELLIOT
I shove my hand in my pocket, reflexively looking for my phone for the millionth time today. When it’s still not there, I punch the side of my leg while I scramble along the rocks.
My feet hurt. My legs ache. The breeze off the sea is chilly, and I keep slipping on wet rocks.
Even the beachy parts of the island are covered with poky stuff, shells and sticks.
Wind whips. I shove a couple violets in my mouth and keep going.
Thank god Hank recognized the flowers. They aren’t filling me up, but they’re something. And his idea to climb a tree was low-key brilliant, too.
I’d be royally fucked without him.
When I reach instinctively for my phone again, I let out a frustrated groan. Needing to vent, I bend and grab a smooth rock instead, which I hold in front of me as I continue toward the lookout spot that Hank identified.
“Hey, Taylor,” I say, pretending that I’m on a video call with my roommate. “Sorry I didn’t make it home last night. You’ll never guess what happened.”
I walk under some giant evergreens. After a second, I pitch my voice up a bit and slow it down to match Taylor’s. “Damn, Elliot. We were worried about you.”
I let out a low hum. “I’m okay. But I got lost at sea and stranded on an island with an accountant from my dad’s firm.”
How the hell did that happen?
I scoff. “It’s actually so ridiculous. There was a thunderstorm. Terrifying waves. We crashed into rocks and the raft got ripped to pieces. I’ve only eaten wildflowers.”
What kind of wildflowers?
I pop another one in and chew. “Violets. Navy blue violets, specifically. I think. They taste like perfume. Hank found them for us.”
He must be the only accountant on the boat who knows edible wild foods.
“Yeah, we’re making it work,” I admit.
You’re probably in serious danger, Elliot.
“I am.” I make my way up some rocks, not wanting to think about danger, although my subconscious is trying to insist on it. “How are you?” I ask, searching for a distraction. “I’m probably not going to make it to see your DJ set tonight.”
I don’t go on until after midnight. Maybe I’ll be lucky and you’ll return in time. I’m locked in my room spinning techno today to get ready.
I mange to smile as I picture my friend with her headphones on, bobbing her head as her long hair falls from side to side. It feels like she’s a million miles away, in a whole different universe, but imagining her lost in her passion gives me a boost.
I have a full life waiting for me, and I’m not about to let it end here. He’ll, I’m only halfway through my twenties.
“I should let you get in the zone. I’ve got to finish getting rescued anyway.”
Good luck.
After a quick call with Marko, too, I try to put the rock-phone in my pocket, but it doesn’t fit, so I tuck it under my arm instead.
As I scramble up the incline, I notice a large boat in the distance. An airplane passes, too, and I wave at it, although I know that’s useless. It’s so high in the sky. As far as I can see from here, the island itself is nothing but trees and birds and fish jumping in the water, no sign of civilization.
Hank’s side must be different. There is no way an island this beautiful is just sitting off the coast, totally untouched.
And we can’t have drifted that far.
I hope.
