.
Chapter 2: Survival, Day 2
.
The sun was too hot and too bright this early in the morning. Zane rolled off of his crumpled fern leaf mattress and rose, cracking and popping his joints.
"You know, that wasn't so bad. I wouldn't want to do that again, but it could have been worse," he muttered. A roar reminded him he had to find food, and he hastily began to scavenge around the area.
Doing so also led to exploring the island. It was a stereotypical round island, like the kind you'd see in cartoons. A dense packet of foliage at the center and a beach that alternated with sand and rocks on the outside. It was larger than he'd expected, but not by much. It took only ten minutes to walk the circumference of the island, but there was plenty to find.
There were maybe a dozen palm trees with coconuts hanging from them. None of the bushes seemed to contain berries, but he thought wild onions might be growing nearby. They certainly looked like them when he dug a few out, but Zane was hesitant to taste one in case there were complications.
Lastly, there were two points on the beach where the rocks formed tidal pools that trapped a handful of sea critters within. A starfish, two crabs, and a minnow-like fish was his catch of the day.
As for the water, the rain had been a boon. The pirate chest and mugs was filled with water and it was fresh and clean. He eagerly drained one of the two mugs and sighed in relief. He then grunted in pain as the cold water caused cramps to assail his stomach.
"That was stupid! That was stupid! Why was I so stupid?!" Zane cried as he doubled over, clutching his belly.
Five minutes passed before he regained control, and he ate the seafood as his breakfast. Not the starfish, he had no idea why anyone would eat that short of total desperation, and he hadn't reached that point yet.
Zane swallowed the minnow look-alike whole, and pried open the tiny crabs for their succulent meat. They were fresh and only recently deceased, so he felt safe in eating them like that. He had not enjoyed it, but his hunger had forced his hand.
Maybe once he figured out the secret to fire he could enjoy a fish roast.
He rolled up the pirate flag and draped it over his head. Sunburns were popping up all over already, and he wanted to protect himself from the sun. It was hot though, and the heavy black canvas quickly became debilitating.
"So stupid!" Zane shouted after less than an hour, throwing the flag down. He hastily picked it up and brushed the sand off before remaking it into a tarp over his fern bed.
"OK, lesson learned. Black cloth is a bad idea for hiding from the summer sun!" Zane griped. He wandered off to place some driftwood and rope out in the sun to dry, and as it did so he sorted through the other items.
Nine bottles of rum had washed up with the wreckage. Two were empty, three were half full, and the rest were unopened. The empty ones he carefully broke and proceeded to use the bottoms as lens.
"Now, if these can magnify the sun I should be able to use them to start a fire, God willing," Zane mumbled to himself. "And is rum flammable? I feel like it should be. I mean, Pirates of the Caribbean said so, but it was Disney, so how far am I willing to trust them?"
He let out a sigh. "Why the hell am I talking to myself?" Zane rubbed the back of his head and ran fingers through his black hair, trying to find any bumps or gashes.
"Is talking to oneself a sign of a concussion?"
When he found none, he sighed and sat down, and began to sort through the cutlery and dishes. Tin was a good, sturdy material, and the plates would be useful for all manners of things! Holding food, keeping supplies off the sand, um… something else he hadn't thought of!
"The fork and spoons will be useful. Somehow. I guess I could dig my latrine with the spoons," Zane mused. "And the fork could be, I dunno, some sort of tiny trident to catch fish with? At least the knives will come in handy as tools. I can cut stuff with 'em. And there's always something that needs cutting!"
He finally turned his attention to the last bit of salvage. The treasure.
A pile of gold coins and finely cut jewels glittered and gleamed in the sun, and he fell to his knees reverently as he sifted through it all.
"This is more money than I have ever held in my entire life. And likely ever will," Zane whispered. "If only I could spend you!"
How cruel God could be! To deliver a fortune, and have no way to use it!
His stomach rumbled, and he looked around. The shadows were gone. Noon had come. And with it, lunch.
With an annoyed glare at his stomach, Zane stood and wandered over to the palm trees. He stared up at the coconuts for a long time, pondering.
On one hand, he hated the taste. On the other, starvation until he could catch more fish.
It was an easy choice, but he still hesitated. His old life and habits clung to him. A part of him was fully aware that he was trapped on a tiny island with no way off in the foreseeable future.
But there was still a portion of his mind that was stuck in his rented apartment in Maryland, where he could shower when he wanted and eat all the junk food his budget could afford.
A grumble of pain shot through his stomach and he winced. The decision was made.
Now all he had to do was get one coconut down. Rock on the end of a piece of rope? Rock on the end of a piece of rope.
He carefully tied a decently sized stone around some of the salvaged rope and proceeded to throw it at one of the lower hanging coconuts. It took a dozen or so tries to knock it free, but there was a sense of intense excitement once he managed to bring it down and smash it open.
The flakey white flesh of the coconut even tasted not that bad! Victory truly was sweet.
The rest of the day was spent managing his campsite. There was a lot to do, and he needed it done before nightfall. A sturdier shelter, a ring of stone to act as a firepit when he did finally decided to try his hands at fire making, a latrine on the other end of the island, and a feeling of accomplishment as he ate the rest of the coconut for dinner. He also drank the last mug of rain water and closed the chest so the rest would not get contaminated.
As the sun set, he pulled out his android phone. The one action he had refrained from doing so far; turning it on and checking to see if it still worked. Odds were that even if it did have power and was not ruined from water damage, he still would not be able to contact anyone. Would service even reach this place?
But he had to try. Holding his breath, he pressed the ON/OFF button. Slowly, with a fizzle of static on the screen, the logo showed up and his phone lived once more! Zane stared at it, desperate for a very specific sign.
After a moment his heart plummeted. No bars. No signal. And maybe three hours of battery life left.
After a few seconds of indecision, he pressed an icon and a folder full of pictures popped up. He flicked through them until he found what he was looking for; a image of himself standing in front of his apartment, arms wrapped around two people, an older boy and a younger girl, with an older couple standing smiling nearby. Mom and dad. Steve and Emily. His family.
Tears sprang to Zane's eyes and he wiped them away as soon as they came. He then shut down the smartphone to conserve power.
As he lay down on the bed of ferns he stared at the now dark screen of his last lifeline. A few seconds later he slipped it under the wooden signboard he had carved last night, hiding it away along with his keys and wallet.
He let sleep consume him.
~/~/~
"Sebastian, is everything alright with father?"
A young woman with lustrous red hair, pouty lips, a bra made of shells, and the lower half of a foam green fish inquired. The man she was speaking to, a dark-skinned man with dreadlocks and the lower half of a lobster rubbed his hands together nervously.
"Princess Ariel, your father the king is in a bit of a foul mood. Sometime has happened to upset him, yet I know not what it was. He has locked himself in his room since yesterday afternoon."
"Yesterday? Was that before or after the strange wave of energy I felt?" she asked innocently, tilting her head to the side.
Sebastian cocked his own head.
"Wave, your highness? I felt no such thing."
Ariel, seventh daughter and youngest of King Triton's offspring, tapped her chin.
"I think it was magic of some sort, though I've never felt anything like that before. Some of the older, more mystical sea beasts felt it as well and I and my sisters have been pacifying them since then."
"Is that so? Perhaps you can speak to him, then. If you felt it as well, he should be informed," Sebastian mused, before giving in to the princess's pleading puppy dog eyes and opening the doors to the throne room.
It was spacious and magnificent. Dozens of people could stand in front of the throne, and with the extra dimension swimming added, the hall was able to comfortably fit a few hundred people at once.
It was all made of gold and coral, and a massive clam shell had been converted into a throne in which a huge, beefy man with a flowing white beard sat slumped, fingers tightly grasping a simple yet elegant golden trident.
"Speak, my daughter. Why did you come here?" he asked. Ariel froze in shock. She had never heard her father so weak and tired before.
"Daddy, I wanted to know if you knew anything about that magic I felt yesterday," Ariel said softly.
King Triton jerked his head up in surprise and stared at his daughter before sighing and leaning back in his throne.
"Of course you would feel that. You were always more attuned to the ways of magic than any of your siblings. You really took after your mother," the king of Atlantis and the Seven Seas spoke with a fond shake of his head.
He beckoned her over and the youngest princess eagerly swam over. It was rare that her father, so stern and aloof, showed any sort of affection so openly. She settled into a spot next to him on the throne and smiled widely as he placed an arm on her shoulder.
"Something has changed in the world above," King Triton said after a long moment of comfortable silence. Ariel perked up, eager to hear anything about the world that was dry.
"A great shift has occurred, and the waves of magic that have guided us since time immemorable have altered somehow. Somewhere, somehow, someone has broken the Shackles of Fate and diverted the paths."
"Is that so bad? What's wrong with a little divergence?" Ariel asked.
"Just as one misplaced current can send an entire section of the ocean into havoc, so too can a single altered path in Fate lead to unimaginable disaster. For all we know, this change could bring the end of kingdoms and cost hundreds, no, thousands of lives!" King Triton declared.
"But it could be good, right? What if the changes help people?" Ariel inquired, cowed by her father's loud voice. He seemed to sense her discomfort and he settled down, albeit with great difficulty.
"We cannot take that chance. I shall inform the Keepers of the Treasury it may be time to send some people to the Dry World once more, to honor the old pacts and preserve the balance of Fate."
"What will you do when you find the one who has diverged?" Ariel asked, afraid to hear the answer.
King Triton's symbol of power and authority crackled with magical energy.
"I will do what is necessary."