The cold air rested on his skin when he awoke, looking out to the charred remains of the fire he had built last night. His stomach rumbled. He needed to gather food. He stood up, sliding out of his creaky wooden bed.
Skye awoke a moment later. She shivered, the fur blanket having lost the battle against the cold cave. She saw Keith stretching, and got up. "Good morning!" she said, smiling at him.
"Good morning." he replied. He rubbed his eyes. He looked at her, up and down. She had gotten skinnier. "Could you do me a favor?" he asked, glancing at Skye.
"Of course. Wh-What is it?" she stuttered, wide-eyed.
"Could you make me a rope within two days?" He picked up his spear, hoping he would kill a lot of fish. He wanted to make a feast tonight, for Skye.
"Sure." She smiled at him. She wished she could do more, but she knew she would get lost or fall if she left the cave. If only she could fix her glasses...
"I'm going out." Keith said, heading towards the entrance of the cave. "I won't be late."
"Be safe!" she said, waving at his blurry back. Sighing, she walked to the rope area, picking up a new vine. It was very lonely in the cold, lifeless cave. She hoped he wouldn't be gone too long...
The sand was hot beneath his bare feet. Washed up seaweed and small crabs littered the beach. These weren't enough. He needed to catch fish.
The ocean was a beautiful blue, a blue he was really tired of seeing. The blue ocean had become the walls of his prison cell. He wanted nothing more than to see Skye smile when they returned home, finally free from this island.
The white object on the horizon might just give him that chance. It was small, far away, but instantly recognizable as a ship. A ship. There was a ship on the horizon.
His eyes were glue to the ocean. There was really a ship on the horizon. They could get off the island.
"SKYE!" he screamed, stumbling backwards. Turning around, he ran full speed to the entrance of the cave. "Skye!" he exclaimed, panting as he stumbled onto the cold rock.
She stood up and faced him, her eyes wide with fear. When she saw the smile plastered on his face, relief over came her. This was good news.
"There's a ship!" he said, breathless. He grinned at her, his heart pounding a mile a minute, not from running, from excitement.
"What?" she asked. Had she heard him correctly?
"There's a ship! On the horizon! A ship Skye, a ship!"
She dropped the vines. They slumped on the floor.
A ship. On the horizon. A ship. His words seemed to echo off the walls of the cave. They went into her head and bounced around. The words didn't seem to make sense.
It had been a year since they had arrived on the island. Each day was a struggle, food steadily growing scarcer. The winter had been especially tough, with the lack of fruits on the trees and vegetables in the ground. There had been many times they thought they would starve.
And now...
Today...
There was a ship, on the horizon. There was a way out. There was an escape route. They could make it off the island. They could return to their homes, with their families. This nightmare could finally end.
"Come with me." He said, holding out his hand. She quickly walked to his blurry figure and slipped her small, cold hand into his strong, warm one.
Silently, he exited the cave, leading Skye towards the beach.
The ship was still there. It wasn't a dream. The ship was real. The ship was there.
"Can you see it?" he asked, pointing to the small white shape slowly moving across the horizon.
She squinted, her weak eyes desperately searching for the confirmation. She wanted to see it. She wanted to really believe that it was there, that there was hope. It was too small, too far away. She could only see the blue ocean.
"No..." she said, sorrowfully. Keith instantly felt terrible. He had forgotten how bad Skye's eyesight was.
"Don't worry," he reassured her, squeezing her hand. "You'll see it soon, when it comes to get us." He knew the ship would not see them if they just stood on the beach. He had to get their attention. "I'm gonna go make a large fire, to signal our location. You stay here. I'll be back soon." He smiled and released her hand, brushing a few strands of hair away from her eyes.
She wished she could go with him, be of use to him, but she knew she would only slow him down. "Be careful." she said.
He smiled, and turned away, sprinting back onto the grass. He shook every tree he came across, picking up twigs and ripping layers of bark. He stuffed his backpack until it was too full to close and so heavy it slowed him down. He picked up more, stuffing his pockets and the waistband of his worn pants. He had to have as much as possible to make a huge fire.
Running back into the cave, he grabbed a basket from the pile, shoving in as many twigs from the surplus as he possibly could. He grabbed a small handful and stuffed it into his mouth, carefully trying to keep them dry.
He was carrying as much as he could. He had even stuffed the edges of his shirt into his pants and filled his shirt with twigs and bark. He hoped he had enough to make the noticeable.
The cliff above the cave was the highest, most visible place he could get to in such a short amount of time.
The twigs and bark tumbled onto the ground in front of him in a messy, unorganized pile. He rushed to assemble a tool to make the fire and quickly rub the twig against the bark. The small amount of smoke coming off of it dissipated into the air above him.
A small kindling of a flame appeared, lighting up the bark. It quickly spread to the other twigs and the pieces of bark he had haphazardly piled around them. He backed away, satisfied as he watched the large flames climbing towards the sky, black smoke rising high above the rest. It grew in its dark column, darkening the sky above him. It was no match for the beautiful blue, however, and disappeared into the white clouds.
Keith watched the horizon. The boat was still there. There was still a chance.
He glanced down to the beach. He could see Skye, a small figure standing on the sand. He knew she was staring at the water, waiting for hope to appear in front of her blurry eyes.
The ship seemed to turn. It was small, but Keith could still perceive the change in its position. It had turned towards the island. He watched carefully. The small white shape grew closer.
The ship had seen the smoke. The signal fire had worked. The ship had seen the smoke. The ship was coming. The signal fire had worked. The ship was coming. They were going to be taken home. They were going to be saved. They were going to be taken off this island. They were finally going to be free.
He backed away from the fire. The grass crunched beneath his feet. The smoke blocked his view, but he knew what he would see. He knew the ship was coming.
Skye watched the horizon. She was watching a small white shape moving. She couldn't tell whether it was a cloud, a wave, or a ship. She wished she had her glasses. She wished she could see the same thing Keith saw. She wished she could share the hope and the excitement he had shown her when he led her out of the cave.
She turned around, glancing behind her at the large black strip that rose to the sky. Keith had made a fire. He would be back soon. He would show her the ship, if it was the white shape moving closer or if that was only a cloud flying low.
Keith ran. He ran across the cliff, sprinting on the grass. The wind rushed past him, creating a whistling in his ears. His legs were tired and he was weak, but he didn't care. There was a ship. He was going to be free of this island. He was going to bring Skye home at last.
There would be no more nights of sleeping in cold cave, with only a fire to bring a weak warmth. There would be no more dinners of hastily caught food that could barely fill them up. There would be no more days filled with hunger and exhaustion.
They would finally be free of all that.
He reached the edge of the cliff and turned, heading back towards the ledges he had climbed up. The grass was wet beneath his feet. His bare feet slipped on the cold, wet grass. His left foot slipped off the edge of the cliff. The air beneath him brought no support.
He couldn't balance. He couldn't return to the ground. He fell, the air rushing beneath him as the ground opened its arms to catch him.
He hit the ground. Hard. His arm hit first, then his head reached the ground. A pain spread through his head, resonating in his skull. Darkness swallowed him.
The ship was getting closer and Keith wasn't back. She could see it now, treading through the water, heading towards the shore. The ship was heading towards her.
Keith wasn't back. The signal fire was still strong. She looked towards it, searching for his blue shirt or his dark hair or any sign that he was there. She saw nothing. He wasn't there.
She surveyed the rest of the area. She didn't see him. He wasn't there.
The ship was coming. Keith wasn't with her.
The ship was coming. Keith was nowhere.
The ship pulled up on the shore. Keith still wasn't there.
A crew member dismounted. Keith wasn't there.
The crew member looked at her, surprised to see a girl with such a raggedy appearance standing on the shore. He looked at the signal fire. He looked back at Skye. She was looking away from him.
"Are you alright?" He asked.
She turned to him and blinked, her eyes wide and fearful. Where was Keith? "I-I..."
The crew member's eyes widened. "Aren't you..." He pointed at her, a picture flashing in his mind. "Aren't you one of the passengers from that boat that sank a year ago?" He asked. Her hair was longer and messy, her face was dirty and tired. She was considerably thinner than she had been in any of her pictures, to the point of being unhealthy, but she still looked like the girl who's picture had been played on the news, over and over again.
"Y-yes." She responded.
He looked at her for a long moment. The girl had somehow survived on the island the entire year, by herself from the looks of it. She must be dying to get home…
"Are you okay with boarding my ship?" he asked. "This ship won't be hitting mainland for another year but... Well, it's better than being here, right?" He paused. "You have to decide quickly though, I have to get back soon. This detour has made me really late already..."
She looked at him. He was older than her. Much older, probably in his late thirties. He looked kind, especially when he smiled.
She glanced at the ship. It was large, spacious, easily capable of taking her home, back to her town.
She looked behind her, squinting. She couldn't see Keith. He wasn't on the cliff. He wasn't near the cave. He wasn't anywhere.
"What's wrong?" the crew member asked. "If you're afraid of sailing, it's alright, this ship won't sink. It's sturdy, I guarantee you'll be fine. I'll get you home safe."
"But… Keith hasn't returned." She fiddled with the torn edge of her shirt. Where was he? Why wasn't he here? He should have returned by now. He should be standing beside her, boarding the ship with her right now.
Her voice was weak. "KEITH!" She yelled. Her voice was too soft. She knew he would never hear her.
"Hey, listen, I can send a boat out for your friend once I hit mainland." he said, looking back at his ship. "But... I have to go right now. I can't wait for your friend to return, if he'll return." He held out his hand. "Come on." he said.
Skye looked at his hand. She looked behind her, then back to his hand. It seemed so welcoming, so warm and welcoming. She could take his hand and go with him, returning home and finally being free from this island.
She backed away. "I-I can't. Keith isn't back yet." She looked behind her, wishing that he would appear in that moment, apologizing for making her wait and ready to leave. He didn't.
"What is he, your boyfriend?" The man reached out for her and wrapped his stubby fingers around her bony wrist. "I told you, I'll send a ship back for him. He'll be fine on his own." He tugged gently, urging her.
"No!" She said, louder than she thought her voice could go. She pulled her arm away from him. "Keith!" she yelled, praying he would respond.
The man moved forward, trying to take her wrist again. He was concerned for her safety; after all, she was so skinny and pale. He was afraid she would die if she was left on the island much longer.
She backed further away, evading his arm. Spinning around, she ran away from him, stumbling on the uneven ground.
He watched her run, sadly wishing he could help. He knew he couldn't force her to come with him, not when she was so determined to evade him. He had no choice but to leave and try to get back to the mainland as soon as possible.
He boarded his ship, watching her small figure getting further and further away. Before pulling the anchor up, he descended once more with a crate of food. He would have to ration out the food he had left, to make sure it would last him the rest of his trip, but he felt an obligation to help the poor girl.
The ship pulled away from the beach, returning to the vast blue ocean. All hope of escaping the island sailed away with that white ship.
Skye tripped over a ledge that reached halfway from her ankles to her knees. She knew this was the way up, after all, Keith had taken her out many times, always carefully leading her so she wouldn't fall.
She felt the ground in front of her before getting up. Carefully, she placed one foot in front of the other until she hit something. Slowly bending down, she felt to see if it was a ledge, and how far she should step. The ground was a blur, even from a few feet away.
Balancing on one foot, she stepped up, judging the height as best as she could. She found another ledge directly in front of her, and stepped up again.
She recognized the brown shape at her feet as a large log Keith had carefully positioned to aid her climbing higher. The bark was rough, but familiar beneath her cold fingers. She pushed herself up, reaching for the ledge above her. This should take her to where Keith set up the signal fire.
The plain in front of her was empty. Smoke darker than the night sky climbed high in the air near the cliff, but otherwise, nothing occupied the large meadow.
"Keith!" Skye yelled. He should be here. He should have started the fire, then returned to the beach and gotten on the ship with her. Where was he?
Taking slow steps, one in front of the other, she walked to the edge of the cliff. Kneeling down so she wouldn't lose her balance, she carefully peered over the edge of the cliff. There was nothing there. In fact, it was an area she had not been…
Crawled around to another edge of the cliff, and looked down.
Her heart stopped.
The blue shirt, the dark hair, the tanned, skinny arms. Those belonged to Keith. He was lying on the ground, on the cliff below her. He wasn't moving.
Was he dead? She shuddered at the question that forced itself into her mind. She forced herself to believe he was just unconscious, at least for now. He must have fallen…
"Keith!" she yelled. He didn't move. "KEITH!" Still no movement.
She had to get down to him, somehow, she had to go. She had to help him.
She had never been down to that side of the cliff, next to the river, without him. She didn't know if she could make it down there by herself…
Backing away from the edge, she stood up. She knew she would have to be very careful, if she got hurt, she wouldn't be able to get to him.
The descent seemed to take forever. She slowly sat and dropped her feet onto lower ground and onto logs, trying to keep them from moving as she stood on them. Thankfully, they were well rooted into place from the many times Keith had stepped on them, with and without her.
The ground was finally beneath her feet again, and he was lying a few feet in front of her. She couldn't see whether he was breathing or not, her vision was so bad she could barely tell he wasn't a part of the river.
She was a few feet away when she tripped, smashing her hands and knees against the ground. She winced, glancing at her palms and the sharp rock she had scraped them against. Blood seeped from the cuts in her palms, a deep crimson against her pale skin.
She ignored it, and moved over to Keith, crawling the last few feet to kneel by his side.
He was breathing. He was alive.
She sighed with relief. He was still alive, though knocked out. She turned him over. His left arm was bent at an awkward angle. He must have landed on it.
She sat for a moment, wondering what she should do. She didn't want to wake him, not before his arm was splinted and wrapped, and she couldn't leave him here, after all, he head mentioned seeing a few wolves while he was exploring… If one happened to wander into this area… She shuddered at the unfinished thought.
She had to leave. Now she was really scared. She couldn't defend herself against a wolf, and she would be powerless to protect him…
She slid her arm beneath his warm back, wrapping it around his waist. Using as much strength as she had, the lifted him up until he was sitting. Gently taking his arms, she slid them over her shoulders and slid her hands beneath his legs, picking him up piggy-back style.
She walked very slowly, trying to keep her balance as best as possible. In the moments she was carrying him, she possessed strength and balance she had never had before.
She had completely forgotten about the boat by the time she was back up on the cliff and gently lowered Keith. Panting, she sat down on the cold grass. It had been a long day, full of excitement, anxiety, and disappointment. She felt relieved when she saw Keith was unconscious yet alive, but worried once more when she noticed his broken arm. She had little medical knowledge, and they probably wouldn't be rescued for a year, or longer, if the guy forgets. What if it didn't heal properly? What if he lost use of his arm? How would they survive then?
She stared at his sleeping face, a new fear growing in her heart. What if he never woke up? What if he hit his head too hard and fractured his skull? What if he needed immediate medical attention? What if he died? What would she do then? What could she do without him?
She looked down to the beach and saw something strange there. A large, brown spot that was being approached by waves. She had to go investigate.
As gentle as before, she lifted him onto her back again and began the perilous descent to sea level ground. She slipped once, and nearly fell, hitting her ankle on a rock jutting out from the ledge. It stung, but allowed her to keep her balance.
She made it to their cave without falling, and gently laid him on his bed. She didn't want to leave, but at least he would be safe here. Besides, she had to see what was on the beach before the waves carried it away.
The flat ground was welcoming after all the climbing she had been forced to do. The grass was soft beneath her feet, cold and gentle.
The large brown spot became a square shape. When she was a foot away, she recognized that it was a large, wooden crate. She automatically figured out that the man from the boat had left it there.
She lifted the lid off the crate and looked inside. It was packed with food, cans and packages. She smiled. Food. She had food. She could make dinner for Keith tonight, a good meal to make him feel better.
She decided, looking out at the ocean to where she had first seen the ship, that she wouldn't tell Keith about the ship. She would go back to the cave, cook dinner and hide the rest of the food behind the oil drum, and she would keep the ship a secret. If he mentioned it, she would tell him he had been dreaming. She knew he would feel terrible if he found out they couldn't get off the island because he had fallen.
She smiled, suffocating the sadness that resided in her heart, feeling confident that he would be fine, that they would be fine. Somehow, they would make it off the island. Somehow, they would survive however long they needed to and make it off. She knew they would.