The days following the storm on the island passed slowly and miserably. A great cloudy blanket remained hanging dully over the island, muting all warmth and sunlight. The winds were cold and the sea restless, and they brought with them occasional rain showers that kept the sand and trees damp, making it ever more difficult to light fires and stay warm.

Mood reached an all-time low for the four friends who existed here, lacking the energy or drive to do much of anything while this grey weather lasted. It was just too cold. None of them could soon remember how long they had been stranded here; the days all seemed to melt together into a single smear of immeasurable time, and they had given up counting. The rains kept them shivering inside the shelter, and food was becoming scarcer too; Jak had not caught a fish since before the storm, and none of them had smiled or felt properly cheerful for days.

They had endured hunger, loneliness, injury and bad weather, but now they had to face illness too. Olto was suffering from an unexplained fever that kept him inactive and weak, unable to walk surely or do any work, and he spent most of the time curled up inside the shelter or in his chair by the weak fireside. His limbs felt heavy and numb, he experienced bouts of strange visual and mental disorientation, and he felt both uncomfortably hot and shivery at the same time. He lost all appetite, and anything he did manage to eat never stayed down for very long. Finding sleep was difficult too, and he became so exhausted from deprivation that he often dozed off randomly without warning, and could not be roused.

Jak, Torn and Ashelin were left to care for him, but there was little they could do with only their basic supplies and medical equipment. Thankfully, they too had not succumbed to the same symptoms, which was a great relief. They wondered whether it was that fish they had found that had caused this, but even though they had all eaten from it, only Olto had been affected so far. However, with this possibility in mind, nobody was keen to try eating any more of it, and it was not touched again until it began to decay, and they had to dispose of it.

Their other main preoccupation was the construction of a raft that they may use to finally escape from the island's clutches. They no longer looked to the sky for signs of rescue vehicles from Haven, deciding in their sense of abandonment to take matters into their own hands. The constant cloud cover made sighting impossible anyway. Whenever there was a break in the rains, they would go out and gather the necessary materials for the construction of their raft, but the work was hard and guideless. None of them had ever needed to build such a thing before. Whenever they thought they had a stable structure, it would only come unleashed when they tried to move it or attach more, and their progress was marred by petulance and insecurity.

Jak was doing his best to guide the effort and keep the team together, being the one most familiar with building primitive vehicles from scratch, but he too was finding it a struggle. Most of his memories and skills of childhood raft building had long been driven from his mind by the modern technology and torments of Haven.

If only Keira were here, he often found himself thinking. She'd probably be able to whip up a sturdy boat by herself in just a day or two.

Thoughts like this only caused him to miss her even more, and she was frequently on his mind, distracting him from the escape effort. He grew steadily more depressed and lethargic, and sometimes spent long periods of time brooding alone in the forest or on the shore.

Torn, meanwhile, was becoming surly. Even though his painful sunburn was fading in the cloudy weather and he was able to move about and work more freely, he was easily irritated whenever something went wrong with the building effort, and often took out his frustrations on the others, being the cause of several arguments. Out of all of them, he was the one most fed up with the island, and was impatient to get this raft finished as soon as possible and then head straight back home. The longer it took, the more difficult he became to satisfy. Sometimes he worked alone even through the rain.

Ashelin, more able to keep a level head, found herself the mediator on many occasions. She did her best to calm him, sometimes succeeding and sometimes not. She knew Torn well, and understood how he could be when his goals were delayed or not met, but even she was starting to lose her patience with him. He seemed now to be in a constant, inconsolable bad mood. It was all she could do to bottle her own frustrations to prevent any major interpersonal conflicts that might threaten their progress, or even their friendship.

As a fractured but determined team, they were able to persevere, though it was not a pleasant working experience. It took more than another week, after several false starts and trial-and-error tactics, until something that was recognisably a raft was taking shape in their camp. A bed of strong timbers made up the simple, flat base, held together with vines and horizontal branches atop and beneath. It did not look pretty, and was less than ten square feet in area, but it was the best they had managed to achieve so far.

Not only that, but Olto's condition was steadily improving too, and he had watched the raft's construction from start to finish. By the time it was ready, he was well enough to think and speak clearly, and was no longer so tired, but he still lacked the energy to help.

"Great job," he said earnestly to his friends, trying to diffuse the tension that he felt still lingering in the air.

Jak, Ashelin and Torn were all tired from their long days of work and constant issues. This endeavour had taken a lot out of them, physically and emotionally, and they were all now rather weary of each other's company. As a result, they felt little sense of reward or achievement.

Torn was the most dissatisfied. "It's not as big as I was expecting," he grumbled. "There's not enough room on here for all of us and the supplies we'd need."

"Well, this won't be our final version," said Jak. "We need to test it out and make sure it'll stay afloat. There's no point building more to it if won't hold out."

Torn glared around gloomily, disappointed that even after all this time and trouble, their work was still not done. But he understood that Jak was right; it was essential that the raft be tested.

"Come on, let's get it down to the sea," said Ashelin, sensing Torn's irritable mood building up again. "You going to be OK by yourself for a little while, Olto?"

Olto raised up the water flask in acknowledgement. "I'll be right here when you come back," he said surely.

Ashelin, Torn and Jak each took hold of an end of the raft, and heaved it up... slowly.

"Man, this is heavy!" grunted Ashelin. "We should have built it closer to the water."

As they struggled awkwardly down the sand, Olto watched them go. He was worried about them, for he had witnessed many of their disagreements and arguments from this very seat, some of which had even disturbed him from much-needed rest. Being stuck together on this island for so long had made him feel much closer to them, but there was only so much they could take of one another, and it pained him to see them snapping at each other like that. Despite his illness, however, he had tried to keep the mood from plummeting any lower, as he always did, but his lack of energy affected his attempts, and he was ultimately unsuccessful. Once he was back to a hundred percent, he promised himself, he would see to it that everyone remained cheerful and comfortable.

By his side lay his pile of gathered seashells, which he had often picked up and admired during the worst spells of his illness. They had helped him a great deal to get through it sanely, for they made him feel safer and happier somehow. He sat there now with a shell in one hand and a fruit in the other, and lay back to watch how the raft fared.

Down at the shore, Jak, Ashelin and Torn had to lower the raft back onto the sand and take another rest. Their arms were aching from carrying it that short distance already.

"We might not even be able to lift the full-sized version," said Ashelin, flexing some muscle back into her arms.

"There'll be a way," said Jak determinedly, looking out over the water. There was still a fair breeze in the air, and the sea was grey and unsettled, pushing long, deep waves upon the sand. Already they could feel the cold spray blowing into their faces.

"Is this really the best time to test it?" Ashelin asked unsurely.

"It doesn't matter," said Torn impatiently, "We've got to do it."

"Might as well see if it can hold up in rough weather," said Jak. "If it can stay afloat in this, we know we've done a good job."

"Then let's not waste any more time," said Torn, more forcefully than he needed to. "Come on!"

The bite in his voice stung the others, but they kept their silence. Gathering strength, they heaved up the raft again, and carried it into the shallow water. They lowered it down again when they were in up to their knees, and to their contentment, saw that it supported itself well, bobbing around on the turbulent surface.

"Looking good," said Jak encouragingly. "Let's take it out a bit further."

They continued pushing it out until they were up to their waists, and still the raft held its buoyancy. Even Torn was finally starting to look happy with their progress, and was glad to see that it had paid off after all this time. But the waves were getting stronger and faster, sometimes reaching up past their shoulders.

"This water's goddamned freezing!" said Ashelin, her teeth chattering. She could not remember ever feeling so cold, half-submerged in the unforgiving sea like this, and she could not imagine how much worse it had to be for Torn, who had not worn a shirt for days due to his sunburn. However, he was making no complaint, and struggled on.

All the while, Olto watched from his chair as the three of them went out further, slowly shrinking into the ocean. Their raft was clearly floating well, but he hoped that they would not go out too far, because that tide looked strong. However, they came to a stop before they were out of their depth, keeping a hold on the raft so it would not drift away.

"It still looks good," said Jak. "Let's see if it'll take our weight. Who wants to go up?"

Ashelin volunteered to climb atop it, but just so she could get out of the cold water. Jak gave her a leg up while Torn held the raft in place, and soon she was on all fours on top of it, feeling very unsteady as it wobbled around in the water, tilting with every wave. She clung on tightly at the centre, trying to distribute her weight evenly across the whole surface area.

"How you handling it?" Jak called up to her.

"This feels precarious!" she replied. Though she was now out of the water, it made absolutely no difference to the cold; her clothes were soaked through to the skin, her hair stuck to her face, and now she had the wind acting against her too. However, despite her unstable platform, the raft seemed to be taking her weight, and as she became more comfortable up here, her emotions began to rise, as did the others'.

"It's holding out," said Torn, cracking the first proper smile in days. "Help me up too."

Ashelin pulled him up out of the water by the arm, and shuffled over as much as she could to make room for him. Now they were both up here, holding each other for balance, while Jak remained clinging on to the side in the water.

Up on the beach, Olto continued to watch the promising excursion, and smiled when he heard their happy shouts coming to him on the damp wind. He tried to wave at them, but they were too preoccupied and too far down the beach to see him.

"This is great!" said Ashelin, a wary smile on her face.

But then, things started to go wrong. The added weight combined with the continued motion of the waves was beginning to unsteady the raft, and the logs and branches that made up its keel began to bend and sway, and sag in the middle. A particularly strong wave knocked Ashelin off balance, and she rolled over sideways. There came a crack as she hit the raft, and Torn looked down to see one of the branches had split.

"We've got a problem!" he shouted.

Jak partially pulled himself up so he could see the damage, and though it did not look too bad from where he was, the stability of the raft was now compromised, and the tethers were starting to stretch dangerously.

"Uh oh," he said.

From his seat in the camp, Olto could perceive the change in their voices and body language, and sensed they were in trouble. He could see them with their hands on deck, as if trying to hold it together, and Jak was now half draped across the top trying to help. Another sweeping wave pushed them forwards, there was the sound of creaking and cracking, and the next thing Olto knew, the raft overturned completely and came apart like matchsticks, and everyone tumbled into the waters.

Olto sat up worriedly, and tried to see where his friends had disappeared to, and if they were OK. He forced himself to half rise up from the chair, knowing that it may be up to him to make a rescue, weak though he was, but then he saw their heads and their floundering arms break the surface. The water where they had fallen was shallow enough for them to stand up, so Olto relaxed a little and sat back down, knowing they were in no serious danger, but feeling their failure.

He kept his eye on them as they all waded sadly through the water, helping each other back to shore, unhurt, but freezing, soaked and defeated. Jak wiped away the water that was dripping from his hair onto his face, disappointed that all of their hard work had gone to waste like this.

"Ah man, I was sure that design would work." He picked up half a log that was lying at his feet, weighing it in his hand. "We'll have to try again, but with stronger materials."

"But that could take us weeks!" Ashelin protested, finally letting out some of her suppressed frustrations.

"Well what other choice do we have?" said Jak aggressively. "How else are we gonna get out of here? We've got to keep working, Ashelin!"

"But can't we just rest first? Please?" Ashelin begged, shivering with her arms around herself. "We've been working non-stop already, and it hasn't exactly been smooth going for us. I'm exhausted, Jak."

Jak calmed himself down a little as he realised the sense in Ashelin's words. She had spoken an uncomfortable truth; they had been a rather dysfunctional team over the last few days, and now he thought about it, it had probably contributed to their lack of success today. If they were to build a lasting raft, they would need to co-operate more harmoniously and really put their minds to the task.

"You're right, Ashelin," he sighed. "I'm sorry. Let's just get back to camp and dry off, and we'll think about this all later."

Ashelin nodded thankfully, but then, they both realised that Torn was standing in grim silence just a few feet away from them, staring at the broken pieces held in his hands.

"Torn?"

He appeared not to hear them, standing as if in a trance. But then suddenly, he snapped. With a defeated, angry shout, he hurled the pieces back into the water, swearing loudly and kicking the wet sand. All of the frustrations, pains and self-doubts that had been building up for weeks came to a violent climax, and were now erupting out of him like fire. Olto heard him raging all the way from his chair. They had all predicted this moment might come sooner or later, considering Torn's increasingly unpleasant mood over the last few days and watching him barely manage to hold himself together, but it was still a shock to see him lose control like this.

At last, when the worst of it subsided, Ashelin felt brave enough to approach him, trying to calm him down as she had always done, but she did not get far.

"Torn —"

"Don't tell me everything's alright!" Torn bellowed at her, "Because it isn't!"

"Torn, please just listen to me," she said, trying to be soothing, "I know this isn't good, but we need to stay calm and stick together and try again, and we won't make any progress while you're like this."

"Don't you understand?" Torn shouted back, right in her face. "It doesn't matter what we do! Everything we've tried has failed! We're never gonna leave this place!"

Ashelin stood her ground. "Torn, listen to yourself!" she said more strongly. "This isn't you. The Torn I know would never give up like this. You're too angry. Just think!"

"I'm done thinking!" Torn shouted, his voice cracking. "I've had it with this place! I've had enough of all of you! I hate everything here!"

He turned from her and made to stride heavily away, but Ashelin was not going to let him go that easily. She had put up with him like this for too long, her patience was almost depleted, her own temper was rising. She was going to straighten him out once and for all with a few choice words. She caught him by the shoulders and forced him back round to face her, taking on a very stern, commanding demeanour, letting some of her own anger come forth.

"Torn! You —"

"Get the hell off me!" Torn roared, and he savagely shoved Ashelin so hard that she fell over backwards into the wet sand. Jak moved in a flash, and was standing between the two of them in an instant. He snarled at Torn, fists clenched, ready to defend Ashelin if he had to. Torn just snarled back, but then he turned and had already taken several long steps away down the beach, his back to everybody.

"Torn!" Ashelin called desperately after him, but he made no acknowledgement and continued on walking. "Torn! Come back!" It had no effect. Torn remained as unresponsive as a deaf man.

Ashelin felt so much all at once: shock, confusion, indignation at the way she had just been treated, even the desire to attack. She made to stand up and pursue him, but Jak held her in place.

"No, Ashelin. Don't bother," he said with eerie calmness.

"What?" she said disbelievingly.

"Just let him go."

Ashelin looked back and forth between the two of them, looking very hurt and powerless and unable to retort. She could not believe that Torn had just done this to her, and could not understand Jak's decision to do nothing. Though Jak too was feeling furious towards Torn for his actions, he knew from experience that arguing with him when he was like this was futile, and would only make things worse.

"Come on," said Jak. "Let's just go back to the camp."

She watched until Torn disappeared into the trees further down the beach. Then slowly and dejectedly, the wet sand sticking to their clothes, the two of them ambled back to camp with the few broken pieces of the raft they could carry.

When they got there, Olto was waiting with a remorseful expression on his face. "I heard it," he said, all his usual cheer gone to the point that he sounded like a completely different person. "Is he going to be alright?"

"I hope so," said Jak, dropping the remnants of the raft onto the sand, now as broken as their friendship felt. "Can you help us light a fire, Olto?"

Olto complied, being the only dry member of the group, and wishing now to do anything to heal the hurt and hostility that plagued their island. Ashelin was shivering uncontrollably, and not just from the cold. Even as the fire was lit and they all sat down around it, she could not banish it, her mind too distraught by the pain of Torn's abandonment.

"Ashelin? You OK?" Jak asked finally, as he sat down beside her.

Ashelin shook her head, and tiny water droplets flicked from her hair. "He's never been like this before," she said sadly. "Never this bad. He's not himself, and I don't know what he'll do next... and I'm scared for him."

Jak wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder, which Ashelin gratefully accepted and returned. She felt like she needed a hug right now, and leaned naturally into him.

"Should one of us go and look for him?" asked Olto. "I could do it."

"Not just yet," said Jak. "Thanks for offering, Olto, but he clearly needs some alone time. In fact, we could probably all use some by now."

Everyone silently agreed; it was true that their relationships had become strained and they were starting to desire more varied company, but none of them wanted to be alone at a moment like this.

"So what do we do now then?" asked Olto.

"Just sit and wait and dry off, I suppose," Jak said vaguely, staring into the growing fire. "Hopefully Torn will feel better once he's had the time by himself to cool off and think about what he's done."

Everyone hoped he was right, even Jak himself, as they sat in the sombre silence. He and Ashelin remained holding on to each other, and Ashelin was thankful for the water drops that still trickled down her face. They disguised her tears.