ELLIOT
Delighted, I pull Hank up onto the raft, which easily accepts the extra weight. My body hurts, I’m constantly dizzy, and no amount of seaweed will cut this aching, constant hunger. I can’t catch a crab for the life of me, and dragging sticks has become an endless, tedious chore.
But I built a raft. And Hank agreed to join me for a float, which means he trusts that the raft won’t sink. It might be a minor thing, but for maybe the first time on this island, I feel truly competent and capable.
I lean forward and brush a kiss across his lips. “I’m so glad you’re risking life and limb to join me on the raft.”
Hank sits and gets himself in position. “We’ve earned a little pleasure cruise. And just remember the protocol if you’re ever caught in a current.”
“Swim parallel to the shore,” I say with a nod, glad to be reminded. “Got it. Thanks.” I take the driftwood and paddle, guiding us slowly out into the cove.
The drizzle picks up, the rain returning again, and Hank pulls his shirt off his head. As we float further out, the water grows darker beneath us, so I take care to steer us well inside the cove.
“Maybe we could use the raft to go fishing,” I offer. “Or to make our way along the shore more easily? There’s got to be some practical value in it. Can you think of any clever nature tricks that a raft would help?”
Hank stretches back, relaxing while I paddle. “Perhaps.” He trails a hand in the water. “It is surprisingly relaxing to float.”
Warmth floods me when I see him ease back and lazily smile to himself. The days have worn our energy down, and I’m glad to see he still smiles sometimes.
I set the driftwood down and get next to him, letting the raft float. “Very relaxing,” I agree, and when Hank turns to me, we kiss.
Our beards scrape together, his tongue swipes mine, and I let out a low, hungry moan of appreciation.
My body responds. Even through the hunger and exhaustion, whenever we press close, something stirs inside me. I cling to Hank, anchoring myself to him, safe in his arms.
Quickly, though, I pull back. Hank grunts softly, and I lift the paddle again. No way I’m letting us drift out to sea.
“Guess I should avoid the elephant seal beach,” I say as I steer us in a wide circle.
Hank sits up, steadying himself on the wet wood. “Actually, maybe we can cruise by? The seals won’t enter the water when they’re molting. They don’t even eat, in fact. It could be a fun opportunity to check them out without putting ourselves in danger. While still keeping a healthy distance, of course.”
“Can’t miss a chance to see seals shed their skin,” I joke as I paddle us straight again.
Hank laughs. “Mother nature’s miracles abound.”
“Regular Elliot might find it disgusting, and honestly so does castaway Elliot, but I’m intrigued, too. It’s like we’ve been so inundated with gross, I’m growing immune.” I paddle a bit more. “Bring on the cataclysmic molt.”
“Catastrophic,” Hank says, and when I glance, I see that he’s smiling at me.
“Catastrophic,” I agree, and when I do, a flash of movement catches my attention. I turn in time to see a killer whale rise up in the water behind us, no more than twenty feet away. Three more rise up behind it and spray water from their blowholes, screeching.
“Oh shit!” I yelp and stumble back, terrified. I nearly overturn the raft, but Hank catches me, steadying me in his arms.
“Okay, okay,” he says, whispering the words as he locks his eyes on the Orcas. “It’s unlikely that they’re here to target us.”
He’s barely finished the words before the whales dive in our direction.
“Fuck!” I yell. I grab the driftwood and try to paddle us away. Hank joins me, splashing in the water.
“Shore!” he shouts. “We need to get to shore.”
Before us, though, a thundering roar sounds out, bellowing across the water. I look up in time to see two of the molting seals at the beach’s edge. Upright, they throw their heads around and repeat the terrifying call.
“What the hell?” I turn to paddle away from the seals, and an Orca splashes immediately behind the raft, sending us rocking toward land. “We’re trapped!”
The killer whales call out to each other. Hank pulls me to the side as a smaller Orca brushes the raft. “Paddle!” he says, and his voice cracks. “Fast!”
I immediately start paddling as fast I can, my heart pounding. “The whales are hunting us!”
