Please...how do we manage?

How do we drink and eat and create shelter when none of us are healthy enough to try?

Wading deeper into the water, I didn’t care the bottoms of my jeans grew wet. I’d wanted to change for hours. We all needed to change. We all needed a shower, a bed, and some subsistence.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

At least, no one you loved died.

No, that’d happened a year ago.

I’d had time to adjust.

I looked over my shoulder at Conner and Pippa. They sat together, locked tightly in mutual fear and sadness. However, they still talked, still smiled. And if they could chatter and share the occasional (if not entirely appropriate) joke, then I could definitely be there for them.

Scooping a handful of tepid seawater, I washed my face. The droplets smeared away some of the sticky sweat.

Feeling slightly less consumed with despair, I plodded back up the beach and resumed my position in front of the supplies.

Galloway groaned as he shifted higher, reclining against the fallen log I’d dragged (with help) from the forest edge into the shade of a leafy tree. The dense foliage acted like an umbrella and we’d found solace in the shadows while still able to enjoy the cooler air from the sea.

“Are you okay?”

My smile was brittle. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Galloway frowned. “I can think of a hundred reasons.”

“Yes, well. None of your reasons apply to me.”

I couldn’t deal with him. Especially after his honesty about how much he wanted me.

Who did that?

We were on a deserted island. I had enough to think about.

His eyes burned into me. “You sure?”

“Totally sure. All good.” I winked at Pippa.

She rewarded me with a smile.

“Okay, inventory time.” I pointed at each item—the only things saving us from extinction. “We have one Swiss Army knife, a clear polyethylene sheet, a small axe that I guess would’ve been used to chop out the cockpit window in case of an accident—kind of moot if a palm tree spears it instead.”

I shuddered as an image of Akin’s dead legs filled my mind. “A pair of sunglasses, a baseball cap, a small medical kit with antiseptic wipes and a flimsy needle and thread, a hand-held mirror, a wind-up torch, and a packet of dried jerky with a use-by-date of two years ago.”

Turned out Akin had a survival kit but hadn’t checked it in a very long time. I wished he’d had fishing hooks and painkillers and a lighter. Just those three things would’ve made our life a lot easier.

Galloway said, “So...what you’re saying is we’re fucked.”

“Hey!” My head shot up. “Language.”

Conner laughed. “It’s okay. We’ve heard worse from our dad.”

Pippa nodded. “He liked the word bollocks.”

Galloway chuckled. “I’ll have to add that to my repertoire.”

“Oh, no, you won’t.”

“Watch me.” He glanced at the kids; they shared a conspiratorial smile.

I struggled not to give in. The relief of laughing helped soothe our stress. If a few colourful words provided entertainment, then so be it.

Leaving them to joke, I scooped up the items and tucked them carefully into the black drawstring bag.

Galloway coughed, catching my attention. He didn’t speak, but his eyes confirmed my previous thoughts. How could two adults and two children survive in a world where we had nothing?

The obvious answer?

We couldn’t.

But we would try so damn hard.

I stood up quickly. I couldn’t stay there looking at our meagre possessions anymore. I had to keep moving.

Pippa left her spot by her brother and came to take my hand. “My back hurts and my head feels funny.”

My stomach flipped.

Oh, no.

I’d tended to Conner’s wrist, but I hadn’t looked after Pippa. How could I forget about her bleeding shoulder?

Ducking to her level, I smiled as brightly as I could. “I know how to fix it.”

I don’t know how to fix it.

“Salt water is good for cuts.”

Maybe not seawater though; what with so many critters and algae and germs...

But what was the alternative?

Looking at Conner and Galloway, I forced away my concerns. “Let’s go for a swim. We all need a bath, and it will make us feel better.”

And, depending on how bad Pippa’s wound was, I might have to use the needle and thread a lot sooner than I wanted.

Nausea rolled through me at the thought of stitching up the little girl with no anaesthesia.

“Come on.” Not waiting for replies, I untangled my fingers from Pippa’s and stomped toward Galloway. I hadn’t braced his leg yet because he’d refused to take off his jeans.

Idiot.

What was his problem? He’d pressed himself against me in the woods, he’d come within a whisker of kissing me, and now, he’d gone too shy to let me strip him so I could help.

At least, he’ll have to undress to go swimming.

I held out my hand. “I won’t ask again. A swim will be beneficial.”

Desire glowed in his eyes (I didn’t know if it was for me or the thought of the ocean), but he glared at my hand as if it offended him. “I can’t stand.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No. I can’t.” He glowered at the horizon. “I won’t do it.”

Crouching, I ignored my ribs and dropped my voice so the children didn’t hear. “Throwing up is natural. Your system can only handle so much pain—”