I snort out a laugh. “Careful,” I call back. “I’m sure some of the branches remain slippery from the rain.”
Elliot moves swiftly, and I track his climb with my eyes, somewhat anxious that he’ll fall. When I catch my gaze lingering on his firm butt, I rub my hand over my face, scolding myself to pull it together.
From near the top, Elliot peers off in the distance. When he finally climbs down, he yells to me on the way.
“Fantastic! I saw a cargo ship.” He swings down a couple of branches, and I widen my stance like I might have to catch him. “What looks like a big land mass in the distance. And best of all?”
He jumps the last bit and lands in a squat.
“You were right. There’s definitely another island like, right there! Beyond swimming distance, but I bet we could figure out a way to reach it.”
I blink, processing. “That is fantastic. We’re not completely fucked. If there are multiple nearby islands, I even have a guess where we are.”
“Really?”
The sun pours on me. Measured optimism seems logical.
“Our penis-shaped island is probably in the Strait of Juan de Fuca, the Salish Sea,” I say. “Near one of the San Juan Islands, maybe. Although clearly outside of the Olympic Rain Shadow.”
“Thank you for finally acknowledging that the island is shaped like a penis,” Elliot replies.
I half-smile. “Sure. It’s phallic. And proximate to civilization,” I tell him. “Whether the search party is looking here or not, someone will see those fires.”
Elliot’s spirits visibly brighten. “Great,” he says, and we continue back toward the wood stacks.
“We’ll put these clams on to cook,” I say. “Give ourselves a protein boost ahead of our impending rescue.”
“If this were a game show, you’d be a great partner.”
“A game show?”
“Naked and Afraid. Survivor.I watched a lot of survival-themed reality competitions one year in high school when I was having a hard time. The knowledge from all the old episodes hasn’t really come in handy yet, but it would eventually if we were stuck here long enough. Or if you tried to melodramatically betray me.”
“Let’s try to not spend any more time than we already have naked and afraid.”
Elliot scoffs. “Afraid, no. But we don’t have to be so quick to shoot down the other part.”
My cheeks warm, but I manage an awkward laugh. He’s likely just joking. I don’t need to think about him naked.
I notice that Elliot is still carrying the small, flat rock with him, tapping it with his finger.
“Are you pretending that rock is your phone?” I ask, curious.
“Yes,” he answers immediately. “But it’s just a fidgety thing.”
I shrug. “Whatever works.”
Elliot turns the phone-rock again and shows the face of it to me. “I got some great shots of the Orcas.”
“Very nice. Good framing, too. You have the lighter?”
He pulls it out, and we arrive to the stacks. They’re just how they should be, the wood carefully arranged.
Grateful, I lay my hand on Elliot’s shoulder. “Perfect.”
There’s ease with him now that we’re on the same page, and it makes survival feel possible.
He turns to me, smiling beneath his tired eyes, and our bodies are close for a moment before I step back again.
