Shipwrecked

by AngstyBob

Mick and Beth are shipwrecked. This is the story in its complete form - ten chapters.

Shipwrecked

Josef, Mick and Beth stood on the dock next to the huge sailboat. The 58-foot Tayana cruising yacht rocked gently on the dark water, its shape illuminated by the arc sodium lights. The boat belonged to Josef, and he was letting Mick and Beth borrow it for a week.

"Josef, this is really too generous of you," Beth said. "Are you sure you don't mind us using your lovely boat?"

"Not at all," Josef said, "and you two deserve some time alone together. Plus this thing practically sails itself."

"And don't forget, I do have some experience at the helm of boats similar to this one," Mick reminded them.

"Is there anything you don't have experience at?" Beth asked jokingly.

"Well…" Mick began. Josef cut him off.

"Here are the keys to get you into the cabin and to start the engine." Josef handed Mick a ring of keys. Like most large sailboats, this one had a big diesel motor that could be used to navigate in and out of ports, and when the wind died down to next to nothing. "Just promise you won't run into anything with her."

"We promise," Mick said. He noticed Beth was looking disapprovingly at the ship's stern, where the name was painted. It shouldn't have surprised anyone that Josef had named his boat "Booty Call", but that didn't mean Beth had to like it.

Mick looked at Josef and shook his head. He and Josef shook hands, and Josef gave Beth a hug. "You two have fun," he said. "Remember, the boat has a satellite phone, GPS, a marine radio and an emergency locator beacon, so you'll be in good shape. And I'll see you back here in a week."

Mick and Beth climbed aboard. Beth went below decks to take a look around while Mick took the helm, starting the powerful diesel. Josef cast off the lines holding the boat to the dock and gave Mick a salute. Mick returned the salute, pushed the throttle forward, turned the big wheel and guided the boat out of the marina.

Once the boat had cleared the breakwall at the mouth of the harbor, Mick cranked the diesel motor up to three-quarter speed and locked in the cruise control. The GPS system would keep the boat on course, and radar would alert them to anything that might cross their heading. Mick climbed down the stairs and through the door into the cabin.

Beth was sitting in a plush recliner with her feet up. "This is like a floating condo!" she marveled. "Entertainment system, flat screen hi-def TV, a gorgeous couch, recliners, a bar, a kitchen, it's incredible!"

"Yeah, it's got all the comforts of home," Mick said, walking into the kitchen. Beth climbed out of the recliner and followed him. She stopped in front of the big side-by-side refrigerator. The doors were locked. Mick used one of the keys on the ring to unlock the fridge.

"Why the locks?" Beth asked as Mick swung the doors open. What she saw inside answered the question for her. The left half of the refrigerator was stocked with eggs, milk, vegetables and other food items. The right half was stocked with plastic pouches and glass bottles and vials of blood. "Ah, I see," Beth said. "All the comforts of home, eh?"

Mick shrugged. "How did you think I was going to survive a week on the high seas? Drinking fish blood?"

"Good point," Beth admitted, closing the refrigerator doors. They moved from the kitchen toward the bow of the boat. Mick opened a pair of sliding doors made of the same dark polished wood that highlighted the rest of the cabin. The doors opened onto the ship's bedroom. Mick flipped the light switch.

A king-size bed was centered on the back wall of the room, Tiffany-style lamps sat on top of small tables to either side of the bed. Another huge flat-screen TV occupied the opposite wall. Mick pointed to the ceiling, and Beth saw that it was covered with a huge mirror.

"Figures," she said. A side door led to the bathroom, which included a large tub complete with whirlpool jets. "This is absolutely amazing!" Beth exclaimed. "My apartment isn't anywhere near this nice!"

"I'm just trying not to think of all the things that must have happened in here with Josef and his numerous floozies," Mick said.

Beth slipped her arm around Mick's waist. "Then maybe we'll have to make some of our own memories to erase all that other stuff," she purred. Mick pulled Beth around to face him and kissed her.

"That sounds good, but not just now," he said. Beth pouted. She was clearly disappointed. "I have to raise the sails before we get too much farther out," Mick explained. "Then we can shut off the engine."

Mick and Beth went back up on deck. The mainsail and jib were already rigged, and Mick hoisted the mainsail with a few quick tugs on the halyard. The halyard also raised the boom a couple of feet, until the sail reached the top of the mast. Mick secured the halyard with a cleat on the starboard side of the mast. Next he raised the jib, securing its halyard with a cleat on the mast's port side.

"Could you grab the mainsail sheet and pull it taught?" Mick asked Beth. He got a blank stare in response. "OK, could you grab that rope that's wrapped around that spool thingy and pull it tight?"

"Oh," Beth said, "Sure." She gathered in the sheet until the mainsail filled with wind and the sheet became difficult to pull in. "Now what?"

"Now secure the sheet with that cleat there," Mick said. Beth guided the rope between the two spring-loaded teethed halves of the cleat and locked it in place. "Now do the same for the jib." Beth set the jib sheet just as she had done the mainsail. "Excellent!" Mick said, "We'll make a sailor out of you yet." Beth blushed as Mick went back and turned off the boat's diesel engine. He returned and stood at Beth's side. The boat's forward progress slowed a bit, but then a larger gust of wind caught the sails and the boat leaned to port. Beth wasn't prepared for the shift, and she stumbled into Mick's arms. She looked up into his face.

"I could get to enjoy this," she said with a devilish grin. "And I don't quite know how to put it, but there's something very sensual about the way the boat rocks on the waves."

"If this boat's a-rockin' don't come a-knockin'!" Mick said. Beth gaped at him in surprise and punched him in the shoulder.

"Mick St. John, you're a pervert!" she said.

"You're the one who said the rocking was sensual," Mick complained.

Beth took him by the hand and led him below decks. "Let's see just how sensual it is."

Beth watched their joined reflection on the mirrored ceiling; the steady rocking of the boat, and being able to watch Mick's tight muscles flexing as he loved her thoroughly, lifted the experience to a level she had never felt before.

Chapter Two

Beth awoke to find Mick's side of the bed empty. She threw on a silk robe and went up on deck. Mick was sitting with his legs dangling over the starboard side of the boat. Beth sat down beside him, and Mick put his arm around her. The moon reflected in ripples off the ocean's surface.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," Mick answered. "It's just so peaceful out here with nothing but us, the night and the water."

"It is wonderful," Beth agreed. She looked around, and saw that they had sailed far enough out that all she could see was water around them. Still, she felt a tinge of unease, as well. "How far out are we going?"

"I didn't have anything specific in mind," Mick said. "It'd be nice to sail to Hawaii, but that's over two thousand miles. Tough to cover that kind of distance and make it back in a week." Mick pulled Beth closer. "I thought maybe we'd just stay on a westward heading for three days, see where we end up, then turn around and head back."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Beth said. "But it already feels like we won't have enough time together."

"We'll just have to make the most of the time we have," Mick said, smiling. He leaned over and kissed Beth, and she kissed him back. She put her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn.

"I hope that's not some kind of commentary on my kissing ability," Mick joked.

"No, no, nothing wrong with your kisser," Beth assured him, "I'm just kind of tired. It's been a busy day."

"Why don't you turn in, and I'll keep watch?"

"Sounds good. Good night, Mick," she said, kissing him lightly.

"Good night," Mick said. He squeezed her hand, and she stood up and went back below deck.

The smells and sounds of brewing coffee and sizzling bacon drew Beth out of her sleep. Morning sunlight filtered in through gaps in the dark drapes that covered the portholes. The bedroom doors were open, and Beth could see Mick standing at the stove, a spatula in his hand, wearing nothing but his boxer-briefs. She admired the view in silence for a while.

"Am I getting breakfast in bed?" she called out finally.

Mick turned around. "Morning, sleepy-head," he said. "I was hoping to lure you out here so I could take your spot in bed and catch a few winks."

Beth pulled on her robe and walked out into the galley and dining area.

"How do you like your eggs?" Mick asked.

"Scrambled, please," Beth answered, adding, "I didn't know you could cook."

"I spent some time as a cook a while back," Mick said.

"Of course you did," Beth said, rolling her eyes. "You must have a heck of a resume."

Mick shrugged his shoulders, and removed the bacon from the griddle and placed it on paper towels to drain. He cracked two eggs into a mixing bowl, added a dash of milk, stirred, then poured the mixture into a frying pan. "Toast?" he asked.

"Please," Beth said.

"White or wheat?"

"Wheat, please."

"Butter or jam?"

"Both, please. You're going to spoil me, Mick."

"Probably." He smiled and moved the eggs around with the spatula. He placed a couple of pieces of wheat bread in the toaster and pushed the lever down. "What have you got planned for today?"

Beth thought about it for a moment. "I've got a book to read," she said, gesturing to a copy of "Duma Key", Stephen King's latest novel, on the living room table. "Then I thought I'd catch some rays."

"Rays – bad!" he shivered as the toast popped up. "I'll stay below while the sun's up, if it's all the same to you." He covered the toast with butter and jam, as Beth had requested.

"Suit yourself," Beth taunted, "but I brought a brand new bikini along with me. It'd be a shame if you never got to see it."

Mick filled Beth's plate with eggs, bacon and toast and set it on the table, along with a steaming cup of coffee and a tall glass of orange juice. "Perhaps you'll model if for me privately?"

"Perhaps," Beth said with a wink. Mick held her chair out and Beth sat down to breakfast. Mick kissed her on the top of her head.

"I'm off to get my beauty sleep," he said.

"Sweet dreams." Beth watched him walk into the bedroom, admiring the way the muscles in his legs flexed and relaxed as he walked. He closed the doors behind him. Beth shook her head, and turned her attention to her breakfast.

It was mid afternoon when Mick surfaced. He shielded his eyes as he poked his head above decks. As long as he stayed under the canopy that covered part of the deck he could tolerate the sunlight for brief periods of time, just as he could spend time outdoors on land, as long as he avoided direct sunlight.

Beth had just set her book aside, and she smiled and kissed Mick as he reached the top of the short flight of stairs.

"Did you get enough rest?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah," Mick answered, admiring her. He'd been a little groggy when he first came up on deck, but he was completely awake now.

Beth was wearing sunglasses and her new bikini, a skimpy thing that left little to the imagination. Her skin glistened with sunblock. Beth turned and walked toward the bow of the boat. Her hair was tied back in a pony tail. She was carrying a large beach towel, which she spread out on the deck. She lay down on her stomach on the towel.

Something in the distance caught Mick's attention. He glanced toward the horizon. Dark, threatening-looking clouds had gathered in their path. Every few seconds lightning flashed inside the clouds. Mick frowned. The storm was still a good distance away, but it looked like the kind of storm you wouldn't want to sail into.

Mick went back below deck and over to the screen that displayed what the radar was picking up. A line swept around the green circle of the screen, and a thick green band appeared in the direction they were heading. The line swept around the circle again, and the green line of the storm inched closer. The difference was barely perceptible, but the distance between the boat and the storm was definitely growing smaller. Still, it appeared the storm was a hundred miles or more away. Mick judged that while it bore watching, there was no need to take any action. He figured they probably had an hour or more before they'd have to turn around and head away from the storm.

Mick climbed back up on deck, carrying his own book, a paperback copy of Anne Rice's "Interview with the Vampire." He sat down in a chair under the canopy and began to read.

The ocean breeze and the heat of the day had a lulling effect on Mick, and the next thing he knew Beth was shaking him.

"Mick! Mick! Wake up!" Mick opened his eyes, and his first thought was that evening had arrived. He sat bolt upright in his chair as he realized that the darkness was due not to the lateness of the day, but because of the storm. They were practically upon it. How long had he slept? How could they have gotten so close to the storm? Then Mick noticed how the wind had picked up, and was pulling the boat toward the dark clouds at an alarming pace. The storm was literally sucking them in.

Chapter Three

"We need to get this boat turned around fast!" Mick said.

"What can I do?" Beth asked.

"Go over to the starboard side of the boat and get ready to pull in the mainsail sheet when I tell you to."

Beth moved across the boat and grabbed the sheet. Mick moved back to the boat's wheel. Normally the maneuver he was about to perform would require warning shouts of "Prepare to come about!" and "Helms Alee!" Mick decided it was best to dispense with the formalities this time.

"We're going to tack…uh…turn the boat to try and get going in the opposite direction." Beth nodded. "You'll want to watch the boom, because after we turn the wind will catch the sails and haul the boom across to the other side of the boat. It'll happen fast, and if you don't duck out of the way you'll wind up in the water. When the boom is across, pull the sheet in tight. Ready?" Beth looked terrified, but she nodded again.

Mick checked to make sure everything was ready for the turn. "Here we go!" Mick yelled, spinning the wheel to the left until it wouldn't turn any farther.

The boat began to turn, and had made it about halfway around when a huge gust of wind caught the sail and whipped the boom across the deck. Beth was barely able to duck out of the way before the boom flew over her head. The boom was designed to travel in a half circle, 180 degrees behind the mast. The wind gust pushed the boom past its stopping point and snapped it off the mast. The sail flailed in the wind, boom still attached, swinging back and forth over the deck, dangerously close to Beth's head. Mick ran to the mast and released the halyard holding the sail up. The sail came crashing down, just missing Beth as it fell. Beth looked up and saw the mast was beginning to tilt.

"Mick! Look out!" she screamed. There was a flash of lightning, and Mick saw that the mast was coming down and dove for cover under the boat's canopy. The mast crashed down on top of the canopy, obliterating it. The noise it made as it came down wasn't quite drowned out by the thunder. Beth rushed over and began digging through the debris.

"Mick! Are you all right?" she asked as she frantically picked up shattered pieces of fiberglass and tossed them aside. Then she heard Mick's voice from beneath the rubble.

"I'm ok," he said. She saw his arm push out from under the mess, and she grabbed his hand and helped him up. Mick was disheveled, but otherwise unharmed.

"Thank God you're all right," Beth said, pulling Mick to her and hugging him tightly.

"I'm fine, but help me clear the debris from the cabin so I can get at the controls. I need to get us going on diesel power if there's any chance of getting away from this storm."

Mick and Beth worked furiously to clear the mess of the decimated canopy as lightning flashed and thunder rolled all around them. After a few minutes, Mick had enough room where he could reach the controls he needed to start the engine and steer the boat. Mick turned the key in the ignition, and the engine rolled over, but didn't start. He turned the key again and moved the throttle a little father forward. The engine cranked, but didn't start. Mick could now smell diesel fuel, and knew that he had flooded the motor. He'd have to wait a few minutes before trying again.

Mick went back up on deck. The boat was again pointed right into the storm, and they were drifting slowly in that direction. The waves were much larger now, tossing the boat back and forth like a toy boat in a bathtub. He could see heavy rain pelting the ocean surface and knew that it was heading their way. Mick went back below and turned the wheel hard to starboard. Slowly the boat turned. It felt like forever before they reached the point where they were parallel to the storm. Gradually the boat turned so it was facing away from the menacing clouds. The rain started just as Mick went back down to try the engine again. He turned the key, and the engine coughed, caught, coughed again and then roared to life. Mick shoved the throttle forward as far as it would go, and the boat began to cut forward through the waves.

"Beth!" Mick called out. Beth came to his side. "I need you to hold the wheel and watch the compass. Keep us heading in the direction where going while I radio for help!"

Beth looked terrified, but she took the wheel. Mick went father back in the cabin to the marine radio and picked up the microphone.

"Mayday! Mayday!" he yelled into the mic. "This is the "Booty Call", and we need assistance!" Even in this desperate situation Mick realized how silly that would sound to anyone listening to his broadcast.

Mick let go of the button on the mic and listened. Nothing but static. No answer. He tried again.

"Is anyone listeneing? We need help! Mayday! Mayday!" Again, nothing but static in return. Then Mick realized that the antenna for the marine radio was most likely located at the top of the mast, which was now probably at the bottom of the ocean. He threw the mic down and went back to the wheel. Beth was quite a sight, clutching the wheel, her knuckles white, a determined look on her face, wearing only her bikini. Mick couldn't help but smile as he took the wheel from her.

"Any luck?" she asked.

"Afraid not," he said. "The radio isn't working."

"Wonderful," Beth said. She thought for a moment. "What about the satellite phone?" Mick's face lit up.

"Great idea!" he said. "I think it's in the cabin on one of the tables next to the couch."

Beth went into the cabin to search for the satellite phone, and Mick steered the boat. The motor was roaring, but it was clearly having some difficulty pushing the boat through the now enormous waves generated by the storm. Mick glanced at the radar screen, trying to get an idea if they were making any progress at out-running storm. Had the radar been located on top of the canopy, which was destroyed when the mast fell, he would've been out of luck. Fortunately, the radar was at the stern of the boat, and for the time being, intact. The radar screen indicated that their position was right on the leading edge of the storm. As the line swept around the circle of the screen again, Mick was disheartened to see that they were not making any progress. In fact, they were losing ground. The storm was overtaking them.

Beth returned from the cabin, holding the satellite phone up triumphantly in her hand. She handed the phone to Mick just as the boat crashed into the largest wave they had encountered so far. The boat pitched up sharply, and Mick was thrown backward, arms flailing. The satellite phone flew out of his hand and skidded along the deck toward the side of the boat. It stopped a couple of inches short of the side. Mick crawled after it on his hands and knees. Just as he reached out for the phone the boat crested the wave and pitched forward. The phone slipped over the side and into the water. Mick pistoned his arm forward, but it was too late. The satellite phone was gone.

Mick returned to the cabin. Beth had watched the scene unfold, and looked to be on the verge of tears. Mick drew her too him and held her close.

"Don't worry about it," he comforted her. "We'll be ok." Had Beth seen the look on Mick's face she would've known that he didn't really believe was he was saying.

Chapter Four

The churning sea wanted to turn the boat sideways, which undoubtedly would have caused it to capsize. Mick held onto the wheel with all his strength, fighting to keep the boat headed straight. The diesel engine roared, but the boat didn't seem to making much forward progress. The storm continued to envelope them.

Mick began to feel the change come over him as he struggled with the wheel. He could suddenly feel every drop of his blood coursing through his body. The blood grew hot, almost scalding, and he could feel waves of heat course outward from his heart into his extremities. His face grew warm; his vision sharpened. He could now hear every raindrop as it landed on the boat's deck; he could smell the salt and sensed the many living things beneath the ocean's surface. His eyes turned yellow, his pupils contracting. His open mouth revealed teeth that were lengthening into fangs. Beth watched his transformation with a mixture of horror and fascination.

"You'd better get down below," Mick urged her.

"I can't leave you here alone!" she protested. Mick spun around to face her. The movement was a blur to Beth, who suddenly found his changing face poised just inches from her own.

"Don't argue, just do it!" he bellowed. And then softer, "I'll be fine. Let me handle this."

Beth gave Mick one last look, kissed him on his cheek and turned and went below. Mick returned his attention to the wheel, which seemed to be alive in his hands. He had changed completely now, and yet the sea seemed bent on proving that he was no match for it, either in human or vampire form. He put all his strength into the effort to hold the boat on course, leaning into the wheel. He wouldn't have thought it possible, but the waves were growing taller. The boat was tossed this way and that, cresting each huge wave and seeming for a moment to float on the air. Mick's stomach leapt as the boat pivoted on the top of each wave and then surged down the other side. The bow of the boat briefly plowed under the surface as it reached the bottom of each wave, and each time this happened Mick was sure the rest of the boat would follow, plunging down to the bottom of the ocean. But somehow the bow returned to the surface each time to begin the process all over again.

Below decks, Beth felt helpless and terrified. She was trembling, and she realized she was still only wearing her bikini. She went into the bedroom to find some jeans and a t-shirt to throw on. As she walked through the door a massive wave pitched the boat to one side, knocking Beth off her feet and through the open door of the bathroom. Beth threw her hands out in front as she fell, but her head crashed into the rim of the toilet. She crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Up on deck, Mick remembered that Josef had mentioned that the boat had an emergency locator beacon. But where was it? He couldn't go looking for it and leave the boat at the mercy of the sea. He'd have to wait until they got through the storm to find it. If they got through the storm, that was.

The storm was now delivering its full fury. Lightning crashed all around, and thunder rolled almost non-stop. The wind had grown even stronger, blowing Mick's hair back from his face, pelting him with needle-sharp raindrops. The creaking and cracking noises Mick heard coming from the boat were not encouraging. Still, he kept the boat pointed forward.

During an especially bright flash of lightning, Mick thought he had seen a section of coastline of the port side of the boat. He blinked the water out of his eyes and them on the place where he thought he had seen land. When another bolt of lightning lit up the sky he saw it again. It was land, all right! But the in direction the boat was headed they were going to pass right by it. Mick leaned his shoulder into the wheel, forcing it to the left. The ocean protested, and the wheel slipped in his hands. Mick cursed and regained his grip on the wheel. Again, he put everything he had into cranking the wheel around to the left, and gradually it began to turn in the direction of land.

The ship was now pointing toward the strip of land Mick had seen, but the waves were now pounding it from the side, rocking it dangerously back and forth. There was no other choice. It was either get to land, or be blown out to sea to face a furious Mother Nature who had laughed as she sent boats much bigger than this to the bottom of the ocean.

Mick struggled to hold the boat on course, but he could tell that even though the boat was pointed toward land, the storm was also pulling it sideways. Realizing that they might still miss the shore, Mick found strength he didn't know he had and turned the wheel even farther to the left. The diesel engine struggled, but the boat slowly turned.

Another brilliant flash of lightning, and what Mick saw this time sent a cold shiver through his heart. The boat was now heading straight toward what appeared to be a reef. A sharp outcropping of rocks lay between the boat and the shoreline.

Mick wiped the water from his face and looked ahead. Another lightning flash revealed a narrow gap in the reef. Mick realized that aiming the boat toward that gap was their only chance. There was no more room for maneuvering. He grunted and adjusted the wheel to point the boat toward the gap. The boat drifted into the space between two jutting sections of rock. Mick heard a terrible ripping sound as the boat ground up against the rocks. He guessed that the keel had been ripped off. The boat almost lost its forward progress, but a large wave lifted it up and propelled it the rest of the way through the gap.

Mick roared in triumph, still fighting the wheel to keep the boat pointed toward a shoreline he could now see without the aid of lightning. The engine began to gurgle and sputter just as the boat finally reached land. The boat rode one final wave, shooting up onto the shore, grounding to a stop on the sandy beach. The boat began to roll onto its starboard side in the sand and Mick leapt clear, landing landed on the beach. The boat came to a rest on its side, and Mick, exhausted and returning to human form, passed out.

Chapter Five

Mick woke up with a splitting headache. The sunshine felt like a couple of ice picks gouging in his eyeballs. And he was being dragged through the sand. Mick looked up, and saw Beth had a hold of his arms and was trying to pull him. "Whaaaa…" Mick mumbled. Beth let go of his arms and kneeled down at his side.

"Mick! You're awake!" she said.

Mick had never felt so weak. It took all of his energy to lean up on one elbow. "More of less," he said. He saw that Beth had a large bloody gash on her forehead. "What happened to you?"

"I fell down after I went below decks last night. I hit my head and I guess I was unconscious for a while."

Mick tried to sit up, but couldn't do it. He flopped back down on the sand.

"We've got to get you out of the sun," Beth said. "You've been lying out here for a while already. There's a shanty or a shed or something just a little ways farther up the beach."

Mick looked around. He was lying on a white sandy beach. Up toward the tree line he could see several rudimentary shacks and buildings built out of what looked like bamboo poles and palm branches. He didn't see any people, though.

Beth slipped her arm around Mick's shoulders. "Let's see if we can get you standing," she said. Mick did his best to get to his feet, and was just able to with Beth's help. The two staggered to the nearest shack and collapsed in the shade.

After catching his breath, Mick said, "I'm going to need some blood." Beth held out her forearm to him, wincing. "No, not from you," he said. "Remember, there's blood in the fridge on the boat."

Beth looked relieved. "I'll go get you some," she said, and went back toward the boat. From here, Mick could see that the boat was in pretty bad shape. The mast was gone, and the reef had torn a large hole in the rear of the hull. It looked as though "Booty Call" had made its last trip.

Beth returned from the boat with several clear plastic bags of blood. Mick hungrily drank them down one after the other, and felt better almost immediately.

"The electricity is out on the boat, so the fridge isn't very cold any more," Beth said. "How long does blood keep if it's not refrigerated?"

"Not very long," Mick answered. "I'm guessing maybe a day." Mick needed to take a look around and assess their situation. "Help me stand up."

Beth again put her arm around Mick's waist and helped him to his feet. He was much steadier now, and took a few steps on his own. He seemed fine. He reached down and picked up a large palm frond. As he stepped back out into the sunshine he held the palm above his head like a parasol.

Looking up and down the beach, Mick saw several other ramshackle buildings. They had the look of buildings no one had used in a while. "Have you seen any people?" he asked Beth.

"No, not a soul."

Mick walked toward the boat, which lay on its side on the beach. "We'll need to unload some of our stuff and bring it up here on the beach," he said. "And I need to find the emergency locator beacon Josef mentioned." Thinking of what Josef would say when, or if, he saw what had happened to his boat made Mick shudder.

Mick and Beth carefully climbed into the boat, grabbing things they thought they might need. Mick found the emergency beacon almost right away. It was hanging from a chain next to the useless marine radio, a small red plastic box about the size of a garage door opener with a simple on and off rocker switch and a light that flashed when the unit was operating. Mick took the device down and pressed the switch to the "on" position. Nothing. The light was dark, staring at him like a blind eye. He flipped the switch back and forth a few times. Nothing. Mick cursed and reared back, ready to throw the useless beacon out into the sea. Beth grabbed his arm.

"Don't do that," she said. "Maybe we can fix it or something."

"It's useless, Beth," Mick said angrily. "The thing doesn't work. It's not going to work. We're screwed."

Beth took the box out of Mick's hand. "Then you won't mind if I hold onto it," she said.

"Suit yourself," Mick answered. He grabbed an armful of supplies from the boat, climbed out and stomped up the beach. Beth brought the beacon and a few other necessities from the boat and began to follow him, stepping out onto the deck. Mick was watching her from the beach as she slipped on a glob of seagull guano and plopped unceremoniously down on her butt. Mick broke out in laughter.

"That wasn't funny, Mick St. John!" she yelled, feeling hurt and embarrassed. Mick's laughter continued as she picked herself up, grabbed the items she had dropped when she fell and climbed down off the boat and onto the beach.

"You know," Mick said in between peals of laughter, "that's why they call it the 'poop deck'!" He laughed so hard he doubled over and had to hold onto his aching stomach.

"Very funny." Beth was not especially amused, but she was glad to see Mick's mood improving. Soon she was laughing, too.

Mick walked back to the boat and brought another armful of supplies back to the beach. He was humming the theme from "Gilligan's Island" under his breath.

"Must you hum that particular song?" Beth asked, glaring at Mick with her hands on her hips.

"It seemed appropriate," Mick answered, smiling. They made a few more trips to the boat and back. "I think if I had been on 'Gilligan's Island' I would've been the professor," Mick said.

"Why the professor?" Beth asked. "You strike me more as the 'Gilligan' type."

"No way," Mick protested. "I'm not that dorky. You, on the other hand,. Would definitely have been Mary Ann."

Beth frowned. "Why Mary Ann? Why can't I be Ginger?"

Mick considered this for a moment. "No," he said, "you're definitely Mary Ann. Plus I always thought Mary Ann was way hotter than Ginger."

"Oh…" Beth said, a smile spreading across her face. "OK, then. I'll be Mary Ann." When they returned to the job of transferring items from the boat to the beach they were both humming the "Gilligan's Island" theme.

Chapter Six

It was nearly sundown by the time Mick and Beth had transferred everything they needed from the boat to their shack on the beach.

"We'd better start looking for some firewood," Mick said. "It's going to be dark soon."

"I'll build a fire pit," Beth offered. She went to work looking for stones to line the pit with, while Mick headed off to find firewood. There weren't a lot of stones or rocks on the beach, but eventually Beth was able to collect enough so she could arrange them in a circle about four feet across.

The sun was setting as Mick returned with an armful of logs and branches. As the sun dipped below the horizon it seemed to set the ocean on fire with colors of beautiful bright red and orange. Mick dropped the wood into the fire pit.

"I found something interesting," Mick told Beth. "Want to come and see it?"

"Sure," Beth said, following him back into the woods.

"Let's go before it gets too dark to see," Mick said.

They walked into the woods, which could probably be more accurately be described as a jungle, given the tropical nature of the vegetation. After about five minutes of walking, Mick held up a hand. "Here it is'" he said.

In front of them lay what appeared to be a piece of fuselage from an airplane. It looked like it came from a big passenger jet. There was insulation, wiring and parts of passenger seats strewn all around it. Weeds and vines were growing over everything

"Looks like a plane crashed here a while ago," Beth said. She surveyed the area. "But where are the bodies? You'd think there'd be skeletons or something."

Mick looked around. "Good question," he said. He walked up to a row of five passenger seats that had been thrown free of the fuselage. He examined the seats, checking the pockets on the backs. He found a few in-flight magazines, air sickness bags and laminated cards that indicated where the plane's emergency exits were located. Sticking out of one of the magazines he found a rectangular piece of paper. There were words printed in the paper, but the paper was moldy, making if difficult to read. Mick examined it closely, and his eyes widened in surprise. He handed the piece of paper to Beth.

"Looks like an airline boarding pass," Beth said.

Mick nodded. "It is. Can you read what it says?"

Beth squinted. "I can't make out the name of the airline, but the flight number is 815."

"And it says it was a flight from Sydney to Los Angeles," Mick added. "Ring any bells?"

Beth thought for a moment. Then it was her turn to look surprised. "Oh…you mean this is part of Oceanic flight 815?"

"Looks that way," Mick said, "which might explain who built those shacks on the beach."

"But there were no survivors from Oceanic 815," Beth remembered.

"Then how do you explain the shacks?"

Beth thought for a moment. "Well, we don't know fore sure that we're the only people on this island. We don't even know if it is an island. All we've seen of it is the beach."

Mick considered this. "That's true. But there are no bodies, either. Pretty strange"

"No doubt," Beth agreed. She looked around. "We should be be heading back. It's getting dark."

Mick and Beth returned to the beach. They had found a butane lighter in the boat, and used it to get the fire started. Once it was going, Beth and Mick spread a blanket on the sand and sat down together. Mick put his arm around Beth's shoulders.

"This could be a pretty romantic moment if we weren't shipwrecked," Beth remarked.

"I don't see why being shipwrecked should change that," Mick said. He looked into Beth's eyes and shook his head.

"What?" Beth asked.

"You're amazing," Mick answered. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Beth blushed. "I could say the same thing about you," she said.

"You saved my life," Mick reminded her. "If you hadn't helped me off the beach, I would've shriveled up and died in the sun."

"It was no big deal," Beth said, looking down. Mick lifted her face up with his hands.

" And I haven't thanked you properly for saving my life." Mick leaned forward and kissed Beth. She closed her eyes, relishing the feel of his soft lips on hers, the prickly stubble of his growing beard on her face.

Before they realized it they had helped each other out of their clothes. As they made love, the fire cast a flickering orange glow on them, their writhing shadow stretching long up the beach.

Afterward, Mick and Beth lay entwined beside the fire, the flames bathing their faces in a warm glow. The flames also reflected briefly in a pair of eyes hidden just inside the tree line. Mick sensed a presence and lifted his head, looking toward the jungle. Whatever it was turned and was gone before Mick saw it. He closed his eyes and tried to draw in a scent. Nothing.

"What's wrong?" Beth asked.

Mick shook his head. "Probably nothing," he said. "I thought I sensed something in the trees, but if there was anything there it was probably just some kind of animal."

Beth pulled Mick closer. "What kind of animal?" Her imagination produced visions of ferocious tigers with long fangs dripping blood.

"Nothing to worry about, I'm sure," Mick reassured her. "Probably just a wild pig or something that's just as scared of us as we are of it." Still, Mick was frowning. He stood up. "I'm going to grab a midnight snack before we turn in." Mick started walking toward the boat. Beth followed him.

Mick and Beth climbed aboard the boat, and Mick went to the refrigerator. He opened the door and took three pouches of blood. The air inside the fridge was no longer cool, and the blood was room temperature. He opened one of the pouches and drained it, wincing.

"Has it gone bad?" Beth asked.

"Not yet," Mick answered, "but I think by tomorrow morning it will be." He drank down the other two pouches, and he and Beth climbed off the boat and walked up to one of the shacks on the beach.

They had brought blankets from the boat, and had put together a makeshift bed. They climbed into bed, Mick's chest resting against Beth's back, his arms around her, holding her close. He lifted his head, closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose for one last check of anything, or anyone, in the area. He sensed nothing out of the ordinary. Beth was already breathing the deep breaths that come with sleep, and soon Mick joined her.

Chapter Seven

Mick was awakened from his doze by the sense that someone, or something, was again watching them. He slipped his arm from around Beth and crawled out from under the blankets. He darted out through the door and into the vegetation behind the shack.

He inhaled deeply, and could tell that the person – it was definitely a human being – was crouched in the brush about twenty yards to his left. Mick moved soundlessly through the overgrowth until he was directly behind the snooper. When he pounced, he caught the intruder completely off guard.

Mick grabbed the interloper around the throat, cutting off his windpipe, and pulled one of his arms up behind his back, immobilizing him.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Mick demanded. The snooper only gurgled in response.

Mick turned the man around to face him. He was short and stocky, probably in his early thirties, with long, greasy black hair and a goatee. Gold earrings dangled from both lobes. He spit in Mick's face.

Mick's eyes changed, taking on their vampire appearance, and as they did, his prisoner's eyes grew large in disbelief.

"Are you going to tell me what you're doing here," Mick said, "or am I going to have to beat it out of you?" Mick's teeth lengthened into fangs, which he flashed in a wide grin.

"I tell you anything you want to know!" the man blurted in broken English.

"Who are you?" Mick asked. "Why are you here?"

"I am pirate," the man said. "I am with group of pirates on island." He tried to squirm out of Mick's grip, but Mick held him tightly.

"A pirate? How many of you are there?"

"We are having twenty-two, counting me," the pirate said.

"Why are you here?" Mick asked.

"We use fast boats to catch other boats and rob them," the pirate said.

"How many boats do you have?"

"We have three boats."

Mick thought for a moment. "And what kind of weapons?"

The pirate turned his face away from Mick, refusing to answer. Mick grabbed his head and spun it back around. "I think you'd better answer my question," Mick said, fangs glistening in his mouth, his eyes glowing yellow.

"We have pistols, rifles, some machine guns," the pirate confessed, "and hand grenades."

Mick held the pirate at arm's length. "When you leave here, you're going to back to your people and tell them not to bother us," he instructed. The pirate looked clearly relieved that he wasn't going to be killed on the spot.

"Yes, yes, I tell!" he said.

"Because we're not the kind of people you want to be bothering," Mick snarled, baring his fangs.

"I understand!" the pirate said. Mick let him go, and the pirate ran off into the jungle without looking back.

Mick returned to the shack on the beach. Beth was still asleep, but he was wide awake. He walked along the beach, trying to think their situation through. There was no way he could match a couple of dozen heavily armed pirates, whether he was in vampire form or otherwise. He knew it would only be a matter of time before they came back. And next time, it wouldn't be just one of them. They'd all come.

He was heading back toward the shack when he started to feel strange. He felt light-headed, and he had begun to drag his feet along the sand. He barely made it back to the shack before collapsing onto the bed.

Beth woke up. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Mick rolled weakly onto his side. "I'm not sure," he said, "but I think I'm getting weak from over exerting myself without taking in enough blood."

"Over exerting yourself?" Beth asked. "What have you been doing?"

Mick told Beth about the pirate, and what he had found out from him. "We need to get off this island," he said. He rolled onto his back, panting, staring at the ceiling made of palm fronds.

"You're in no condition to go anywhere," Beth protested. She held her forearm out to him. "Go ahead," she said, "you know you need it."

Mick turned his face away, but Beth was right. There wasn't any other choice. Unless she could go out and catch him a wild pig or something. He turned back to Beth, taking her arm in his hands.

"At some point…" he began.

"…I'm going to have to stop you," Beth finished. "Been there, done that." She barely felt it as Mick's fangs dug into her soft flesh. He drank deeply. After a time, Beth eased her arm away from Mick, feeling a little light-headed herself. Mick wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Slowly his fangs retracted and his eyes cleared up. He lay back and fell into a fitful sleep. Beth bandaged her arm using gauze from the ship's first aid kit and watched over him.

When Mick awoke the sun was starting to rise. He saw Beth sitting beside him, fidgeting with the emergency locator beacon, trying to get it to work. He took one of her hands in his. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it softly.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, setting the beacon aside.

"Much better," Mick answered. It was the truth, but he was also feeling useless. He had no idea how to get them off the island, and he had to rely on Beth's blood to survive. He wasn't used to feeling so dependent. He was supposed to be the protector.

"How long do you figure we have until the pirates decide to pay us a visit?" Beth asked.

"I don't know," Mick said, "but I don't think they'll wait long. I wouldn't be surprised if they decided to come tonight."

"That doesn't give us much time," Beth said. "Should we try to head farther inland and find a place to hide from them?"

"I suspect they know this island like the back of their hand," Mick said. "If there's a hiding place, I'm sure they know about it. They've probably used it before." He stood up, pacing in the sand, his hands on his hips. He had never felt so much like things were out of his control. He kicked the emergency beacon, then jumped on one foot, swearing as pain spread through the foot he had kicked the box with.

Beth paid no attention. She was staring at the beacon. "Mick, look!" she said.

Mick looked at the beacon. The light on the box was flashing. "Whoo-hoo!" Mick shouted in joy, the pain in his foot forgotten. He picked ran over to the beacon, taking it gently in his hands and holding it up. "We may make it off this island yet!" he said, smiling at Beth. Beth smiled back, but she wondered how long it would take for someone to notice the beacon's signal.

Chapter Eight

"We have to get ready to defend ourselves," Mick told Beth, "in case the pirates get here before our rescuers do. And I think we need to assume that they will."

Beth frowned. "How are we supposed to defend ourselves?" she asked. "I mean, you have your vampire thing, but what else are we supposed to do, kick sand in their faces?"

Mick smiled. "Ah, I see you underestimate the power of improvisation," he said. He reached around to the waistband in the rear of his pants and pulled out a pistol.

Beth was amazed. "Where did you find that?"

"I took it off the pirate I questioned. I think he was a little preoccupied with my dental work at the time."

"I must admit, that was pretty slick," Beth said, "but one gun against a couple dozen armed pirates? I don't like the odds."

"We may have another trick or two up our sleeves. Don't' forget, I'm 'the professor'," Mick said, flashing a big grin. "Remember the flare gun from the boat?" Beth's eyes widened as she recalled that they had brought the flare gun and three flare rounds off the boat when they'd first arrived on the island.

"Ok, that could be useful, but still…"

"We'll be fine," Mick reassured her. "It's pretty hard to sneak up on us here, so we have that working for us."

Beth nooded. "What do you need me to do?"

"Come with me to the boat. We have to set up a little surprise for out pirate friends."

Mick and Beth stood on the boat, Mick shielding his eyes from the sun. "We need to make it look as though we've been living in the boat," Mick said. "Do you have some extra clothes we can hang off the lifelines as if it's drying laundry?"

"I have some of the stuff I've already worn down below," Beth said. "I'll go get it."

Beth went below decks and returned a few moments later with an armful of clothing. She hung a blouse here, a pair of slacks there. She tossed a bra and a pair of panties over one of the lifelines, glancing at Mick, who was smiling. He was hanging some of his own clothing over the lines.

"Ok, next we need to grab the gas tank for the small outboard engine in the back."

They climbed through to the stern of the boat and found the five-gallon tank. Mick disconnected the hoses and hauled the bright red tank up on deck. It felt like it was full. The boat had built-in fuel tanks in the stern for the big diesel engine, and Mick set the gas tank down near where he judged the internal diesel tanks to be. He grabbed some palm fronds and other debris and covered the gas tank.

"Shouldn't we try to make it look a little more 'homey'?" Beth asked.

"Yes, we should," Mick answered, "and I think I know just how to do that."

Mick went back into the boat, and returned carrying several seat cushions and a couple of fishing rods. He leaned the cushions up against a nearby palm tree, and stuck the fishing poles into the sand. He made another trip into the boat, and came back with a bottle of champagne and a couple of flutes. He set these down in the sand as well. Now it looked like a nice little fishing beach party for two.

"Pretty tricky," Beth said, smiling. "I hope they buy it."

"You and me both," Mick said. He walked out to the shoreline and looked back, hands on hips. He thought it might just work. "Let's get back to the shack."

Mick stepped into the shack and plopped down on the bed. Beth saw that he was tired again. Being out in the sun was taking a lot out of him, and it didn't help that he wasn't getting as much blood as he usually did. Beth, meanwhile, was surviving nicely on the canned goods and bottled water that they had pilfered from the boat's galley. She looked at Mick uncertainly.

"Do you need more…" she started.

"No, no," Mick said. "Not yet, anyway. I just need to rest a while." He lay back and closed his eyes. Beth lay down next to him and stoked his hair. Aside from the gentle lapping of the waves on the beach and the occasional singing of some tropical birds, it was quiet on the island. Quiet enough that there was no mistaking the rising sound of a powerful outboard engine. Mick sat up quickly. By the sound of it, the boat was still a ways off, but it wouldn't take long to get to where they were. It was time to get into position.

"Let's get back into the tree line," Mick said. He grabbed the flare gun and the three flare rounds and ran with Beth a short distance into the jungle. He found a spot where he judged they couldn't be seen and where he had a relatively clear sightline to the beach. The noise of the outboard motor was louder now. The question was, how many boats would he see appear from around the corner? Mick doubted they'd send all of their men in one assault.

Suddenly, the sound of the motor cut out. A few anxious minutes passed as Mick and Beth watched silently. Had the pirates landed farther down the beach? Were they planning to approach the rest of the way on foot? That would leave Mick and Beth as easy targets, and Mick cursed himself for not thinking of that possibility. He was relieved when a single boat drifted around the corner. It looked as though there were seven men on the boat, all appeared to be carrying rifles, and several were using paddles to propel their boat along. When the pirates saw the shipwrecked boat, they crouched down and continued paddling the rest of the way to the beach. The first two men in the boat quietly leapt out a few yards away from the shoreline and pulled the boat up onto the sand. The others then jumped out, and they all sprinted the twenty or so yards to the nearest of the abandoned buildings, taking cover behind it.

Mick took the flare gun, and loaded a flare. He handed the pistol to Beth, who held it tightly.

"You've got six rounds in that pistol," he told her. "Be very careful how you use them. And remember, a pistol isn't very accurate more than twenty-five yards away."

"'Don't shoot until you see the whites of their eyes'?" Beth joked, nervously.

"Something like that," Mick said.

The pirates were making their way to the boat in pairs, moving quickly and quietly from one shack to the next. The first pair got to Mick and Beth's shack. They were only a few yards away from them. Beth raised the pistol, but Mick eased it gently back down.

"Not yet," he mouthed. Beth nodded.

The pirates went inside Mick and Beth's shack, rummaged around inside and then came back out. They signaled to the rest of their group that no one was inside, and pointed toward the boat. The others nodded, and they approached the boat as a group. Anyone inside the boat would've been unable to see them coming, since the boat was lying on its side, and the bottom of the boat was facing the pirates. Still, the pirates ran in a crouch, darting this way and that as they went, trying to make themselves difficult targets. They reached the boat and kneeled down, one of the men peering into the whole were the keel had been. Another of the pirates had noticed the pile of palm fronds and debris near the stern. He kicked at it, revealing the gas tank. The pirate turned and stared toward the tree line. He was looking right at Mick and Beth. Mick pulled out the flare gun, aimed and pulled the trigger. The pirate realized what was happening and yelled to the others to take cover, but it was too late. The flare soared across the sand from the trees to the boat and struck the gas tank. There was a flash, and a loud explosion and an orange-red fireball as the gas tank erupted. Two of the pirates who had been nearest the tank were set ablaze, and they fell rolling to the sand. The others were still running when the big diesel fuel tanks ignited with a blinding light and a shockwave strong enough to send the remaining pirates tumbling head over heels through the air. Mick and Beth ducked as debris from the exploding boat whizzed through the air over their heads. Mick re-loaded the flare gun.

Once the debris had quit falling Mick and Beth stood up. The boat was now a blazing, smoking wreck. Thick, dark smoke rose into the sky. Mick could see four pirates in the immediate vicinity of the boat were clearly dead. One of the men who had been set on fire by the first explosion was still writhing in the sand. Mick bent down and took the man's charred head in his hands and twisted it, snapping his neck. Mick looked around. There were two other pirates to be accounted for. He found them quickly. One was about thirty yards from the boat. He had been blown into the air with enough force to kill him instantly. The other lay motionless a ways further up the shore. Mick walked toward the burning boat, straining to hear if any more pirate boats were coming. He didn't hear any motors. As he approached what was left of Josef's boat, the pirate who had been lying unmoving on the beach quietly stood up, raised his rifle and took aim at Mick. Mick turned around just as a shot rang out. A surprised look appeared on the pirate's face as he lowered his rifle and then fell to his knees in the sand. Beth stood behind him, the muzzle of her pistol smoking in her out-stretched hands. The pirate fell forward face first. Beth went to the pirate and kicked his body to make sure he was dead.

"I couldn't see he eyes, but…" Beth started. Then she noticed that Mick had collapsed on his back in the sand, his body trembling, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, struggling for breath.

Chapter Nine

Beth ran over to Mick and knelt down beside him. Her first thought was that the bullet she had fired at the pirate had passed through him and struck Mick. Or maybe the pirate had shot Mick at the same time as she shot the pirate. A close examination of Mick showed that neither of those things had happened. Mick was simply wiped out from a lack of blood.

Beth dragged Mick back into the shade of their shack. Mick was only partially conscious, but he was able to help her move him. His eyelids fluttered, and he mumbled incoherently as they went. His survival instinct was stronger than ever, though, and when they reached the shack and Beth offered her arm, he took it greedily. Beth lay down and closed her eyes as he fed.

Beth awoke to find Mick sitting next to her. The day had grown late, and the sun was drifting down toward the horizon. She felt strange. Not bad, just strange. She noticed that she was suddenly able to see the smallest details of things – the pores in her skin, the grains of sand on the beach. And she could smell…everything. The salt of the ocean, the trees and plants, and decay. She closed her eyes, turned her head to the side and inhaled deeply. It was Mick she was smelling. The smell of decay coming from him should've been revolting, but it wasn't. It seemed perfectly normal. In fact, it turned her on immensely. Beth's eyes grew wide as she remembered the only other time she had felt anything close to this. It was when she had tried the black crystal. She turned to Mick.

"Did you turn me?"

Mick looked at Beth's face closely. She didn't appear upset, just excited. And a little frightened "Yes," he answered, "I had to. You fell asleep while I was feeding, and by the time I got my senses back I had drained you to the point where if I hadn't done something you would've died."

Beth saw the concern and apprehension in Mick's face. She reached out to him with one hand. He flinched. She ran her hand along the side of his face. "It's all right," she reassured him, smiling. "It's all right."

"I had to feed you my blood back, or you would've died. And I would've been the one who killed you." Mick was crying now. Tears ran down his face as he took Beth's hand in his.

Beth's tears began to flow, too. "I understand, Mick," she said. "I'm glad you did it." She leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. She wasn't sure if the salty tears she tasted were hers, or his, or a combination of both.

Mick and Beth heard the sound at the same time. Boats heading their way. There was no question it was more than one boat this time. They could hear the roar of two distinct motors.

"You still have your pistol?" Mick asked.

"Yes," Beth answered, pulling the gun out of her waistband. "You still have the flare gun?" Mick held the flare gun up, loading one of the two remaining flares.

"We're going to have to play this by ear," Mick said. Beth smiled at him, and Mick thought he saw the slightest hint of fangs in her smile.

"We'll be fine," She said.

The remains of Josef's boat were still belching thick, black smoke on the beach, so the pirates certainly wouldn't have any trouble figuring out where they were. The smoke also served to screen Mick and Beth from the approaching boats. There were two of them, each with seven or eight men on board. Mick waited until the closest boat was about twenty yards from shore and then stepped out from behind the smoldering boat. He raised the flare gun, aimed it at the boat and fired. The flare shot across sand and water and struck the boat. Mick could hear the pirates on board yell in surprise as the flare turned their boat into a fireball. He saw flaming figures tumbling off the boat and into the water. Then the heat from the flare reached the boat's gas tanks and the boat exploded, sending debris and the pirates unfortunate enough to have still been on board flying into the air.

Mick motioned for Beth to follow him, and they disappeared into the jungle. Beth felt the wind blowing through her hair as they ran with super-human speed, easily able to avoid the roots and branches that threatened to block their way. They darted in between the trees, all the while able to sense the progress of the second pirate boat behind them.

The boat roared toward the shore and skidded up on the beach. The pirates leapt off the boat and ran toward the tree line.

Mick and Beth reached the old piece of airliner fuselage. It was lying upside down, with the seats hanging upside-down. The piece of wreckage was open at both ends. They went in, and Mick opened one of the overhead compartments, which were now at their feet.

"Climb in," he said to Beth, holding the lid of one compartment open. Beth gave him a look as if to ask if he was serious. "Go ahead," he repeated, "climb inside. I know what I'm doing."

"I hope you do," Beth said, lying down inside the compartment. It was a tight fit, but she was able to curl up inside.

"If this door opens, shoot whoever's on the other side. It won't be me," Mick said. Beth nodded, and he closed the lid. Mick moved to the far end of the section of fuselage and crouched behind a jumbled pile of seats and other debris.

Shortly afterward, the first of the pirates reached the wreckage. After peeking around the corner to see if anyone was waiting for them inside, two pirates ventured into the fuselage, weapons at the ready. One of the pirates motioned for the other to wait, while he bent down and started checking the overhead compartments. One after another he found them empty, save for a few airline pillows and blankets. Then he reached the compartment that Beth was hiding inside. He reached for the latch, and pulled the compartment door open. He had just enough time to register surprise at the woman in the compartment pointing the gun at his face before Beth fired. The pirate's face imploded, and his body fell limp to the ground. The other pirate turned to run, but while Beth was dispatching his buddy, Mick had sped around the outside of the fuselage and was now blocking the pirate's exit. The pirate practically ran right into Mick's arms.

"You're not going anywhere," Mick said, grabbing the second pirate by the neck. With a twist of his hand he snapped the pirate's neck like a twig. He dropped the body as Beth joined him near the entrance. She could sense another group of pirates approaching. She tilted her head and breathed in deeply. She detected five distinct scents. They were about to have more company.

Mick had also sensed this, and he took Beth's hand and led her through the fuselage to the opening at the far end. He pointed up, signaling to Beth that they could hide on top of the section of airliner. She nodded. Still holding hands, they leapt up together, easily clearing the fifteen feet to the top of the piece of wreckage. They lay down and waited for the other pirates to arrive.

The five pirates in this group had obviously heard the gunshot, and approached the fuselage with caution. One by one, they approached the wreckage. One of them would dash from one hiding spot to another, while another pirate covered him. The first pirate in the group reached the section of airplane and went inside. He noted his two dead comrades and signaled the body count to the others. He then slunk through the rest of the wreckage, making sure no one was hiding inside, then went back and waved for the rest of his group that it was safe to come inside.

Mick closed his eyes, and concentrated his senses on the pirates below them. When he was sure that they had all moved inside the fuselage he helped Beth up, and together they ran along the top of the wreckage, leaping off when they got to the end that the pirates had gone in through. They spread their arms and glided down to the ground. Mick quickly had the flare gun out, and while Beth ran back toward the beach Mick turned and fired a flare into the fuselage. The pirates had not time to get out. The flare exploded inside, igniting the insulation, seat cushions and other debris inside, turning the interior of the fuselage into an inferno. Mick turned and followed Beth.

When they reached the tree line at the beach, they peered out and saw the last group of pirates crouched together on the shoreline. There were eight of them, checking their gear and weapons. Then the group got up and ran into the jungle, about a hundred yards down from where Mick and Beth were, toward the bright orange glow that indicated the burning chunk of fuselage. Mick and Beth waited a couple of minutes, then dashed out of the trees toward the two boats the pirates had left on the beach.

Chapter Ten

Mick and Beth climbed into one of the boats. Mick went to the rear and found the rip cord to start the outboard motor. He pulled. The engine sputtered, but didn't start. He pulled again. Another sputter. Mick cursed under his breath. He yanked on the cord a third time, and the engine roared to life. Mick jumped back out and pushed the boat off the beach and into the water. He got back in and took the controls, pointing the boat out to sea and revving the engine to full throttle.

Beth hear a high whining sound and felt something pass close enough to her ear for her to feel the little breeze it created. She looked back and saw the pirates had returned to the beach. Two of them were firing at them while the rest prepared the other boat. Mick steered their boat left, then right, trying to make them a more difficult target. The other pirates quit shooting, and joined their comrades in the other boat. They spun their boat around quickly and took off in pursuit of Mick and Beth.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, and it was starting to get dark. It wasn't long before Mick started noticing small splashes in the water near the boat. He glanced back and saw a series of small flashes that meant the pirates were firing at them again. Mick steered left and right. He realized that the more he steered back and forth, the closer the pirates got. Eventually they'd catch up with them, if they didn't blow them out of the water first.

Suddenly, over the roar of their boat's engine and the splashing of the water, Mick and Beth could hear another sound. It was a motor, but not a boat motor. It sounded like a helicopter. They looked to the right and saw flashing green and red lights approaching. Then a bright search light came on and started scouring the sea.

One of the shots fired by the pirates whined off the metal cover of the outboard motor of Mick and Beth's boat. The next shot punctured the cover, and the motor sputtered and then gurgled to a stop. The boat's forward progress stopped, and Mick and Beth were left adrift. Mick pushed Beth down onto the floor of the boat and covered her with his body.

"I love you, Beth," Mick breathed into Beth's ear.

"I love you too, Mick," Beth answered.

Their boat was suddenly awash in bright, white light. The helicopter was almost upon them. The searchlight then swept from their boat back to the pirate boat. Mick looked up just in time to see a missile launched from underneath the chopper. The missile streaked across the night sky, passing just feet above Mick and Beth, and slammed into the pursuing pirate boat. The night sky became nearly as bright as day for a brief moment as the missile exploded, blasting the pirate boat and its occupants to smithereens. Debris fell into the water around Mick and Beth, and again Mick covered Beth to protect her. When it was finally safe, Mick and Beth sat up. They had to shield their eyes as the helicopter's searchlight caught them in its glare. They immediately recognized the voice that boomed from speakers overhead.

"You owe me half a million dollars for that boat!" It was Josef, and as they watched, a rope ladder was lowered from the helicopter. Josef's head peered out of the helicopter's side door. The ladder reached Mick and Beth, and Beth caught the rungs and began to climb up. Mick followed her, taking a moment to admire the view.

Josef extended a hand and helped Beth into the helicopter. The look on his face was briefly confused, then he raised his eyebrows and smiled and Beth climbed past him and buckled herself into a seat. Mick climbed in next. "You didn't," Josef said.

"I did," Mick admitted sheepishly. "It's a long story."

"You'll have to tell it to me sometime," Josef said, patting Mick on the back. Mick climbed in and buckled himself in next to Beth, and Josef went up in front and sat next to the pilot. The chopper turned and banked away from the island.

Mick and Beth looked at each other.

"You were right," Mick said.

"What do you mean?" Beth asked.

"We make a pretty good team," Mick answered, smiling.

Beth smiled back. "We made a pretty good team before," she said. "Imagine what we can do together now!" Mick chuckled, then leaned over and kissed her.

Josef, who had been watching them, rolled his eyes and smiled, turning back around in his seat.