.

..

...

...

...

Review begging here... motivation is good ;P

More time passed and Anna began to learn more about Blackburn. She learned he had nightmares, he would murmur "no" over and over. He was very meticulous, very keen on keeping himself fit, and her for that matter, and he hated Vengerov with a passion. Sometimes she felt it was all he thought about. But he never gave many details on that. Never mentioned his life before. She had asked once and he had glared at her, told her to mind her own business and tied her to the tree for the rest of the day, something she had not had to endure since her first week. So Anna tried other things. She tried making herself useful to him, to be likeable, to forge an emotional connection so when the time came, he would find himself unable to kill her. It had not worked. She had even considered sleeping with him but had almost immediately disregarded the thought feeling sick. She would not let it come to that. She would never ever let it come to that. She was no longer even sure he would. He hadn't tried to touch her at all, although he did look when she was undressed: with only the clothes they were wearing and him unwilling to let her out of his sight, she had often had to wash her clothes with nothing on, his stare on her. But whenever he realised she had seen him looking he would adjust his gaze to look over her head. She didn't know why he bothered. Why would what she thought matter to him?

Anna had long since learned to control the horrible embarrassment she felt and just get on with things. Feeling embarrassed, demanding he turned around, would not change the outcome. Not when he thought she would run. Better to just get on with it and fight back the urge to cover herself which meant everything took longer. "For crying out loud girl, it is nothing I haven't seen before!" he had shouted when she had tried to prevent him from seeing her the first time she washed. "Anna, I really really don't care so just get on with it."

It was a strange life, living so close to the man, dancing with death each day. She got used to it. But having just one person, someone who rarely spoke, or only to rant about her stupidity, was difficult. She longed for touch. She longed for comfort, human interaction other than with a mad man. Anna didn't think too far into the future, she couldn't. She would drown in despair and that was not something she could afford in a survival situation. Once, just once, a month after the shipwreck, they had spotted a skyplane, presumably looking for them. It had been a split second, through the gap in the canopy. Anna had raced, giddy with laughter as she ran to keep it in her sight but Blackburn had held her back, squinting. "Shouldn't we signal? Build a fire Sir?" she asked in excitement, her thrills making her forget that only one of them would ever leave this island. "No, it wouldn't see, it is only here on an off chance and-" Blackburn had paused.
"What?"
"It might be the people who sent us here." That statement had rocked her. How would they know friend from foe? Did they know they were still alive? Would they try to kill them again? But since that incident nothing else had happened.

Anna woke with a start. Tonight they were on the other side of the island, they had finally made it back through the path they had originally started on ten months before. Anna was sleeping next to Blackburn, his snores filling the shelter, her wrist tied to his. She wondered why she had woken. She rarely did, normally sleeping through the night. Then she realised she was itching again. Her now dreadlocked hair was pressed against her, her rags barely covering her legs now. She had opted for a sort of skirt made from the remains of her jeans. They had worn away so much they were brown now, and she had been forced to spend days sewing a top made from a large cat-like creature Blackburn had speared after her original cotton top had been shredded by it in an attack. Blackburn had tended to her wounds, the scratches she had received whilst he had been away, as the creature, drawn to the camp by the smell of food had snatched at her. His hand had been gentle on her scrapes, his homemade soap mixed with saltwater invaluable in cleaning the wound. Blackburn had lent her his shirt during those days so she could hide her modesty whilst she worked. She remembered hugging herself in embarrassment when the pieces of her top fluttered around her, stringy with blood. Blackburn had looked at her, his dark eyes hard to read as something flickered within them. He'd then lifted his arms and taken off his top and handed it to her, and Anna's eyes had immediately been drawn, irresistibly, to the lines of his biceps, his hard pecs. She raked his body, her pupils wide, dilating. It was the first time she had seen him topless and she was mesmerised. It was the fact that this was a situation she would never have thought she would be in before. Blackburn had caught her stare and raised his eyebrow, at which Anna blushed, eyes darting to the ground. She'd thought she'd spied a slight smirk on his face.

Now her legs itched uncomfortably from insect bites, a rash marking them after they had brushed against an unusual plant the day before. She dabbed the paste she had made onto her skin with her free hand, to soothe it. The paste had been make from coconut milk, fat, hard bark boiled to release the tanic acid and crushed leaves of a dock-leaf-like plant she had found a month earlier. Then she stilled as she heard movement next to her.

Blackburn was awake. Anna was a heavy sleeper, she would have to be. Sleeping in such close quarters meant one had to be discreet with moving. Or anything else. She felt him shift and pretended to be asleep as he gently moved his hand, the one connected to her's, to undo his trousers. Anna froze. What was he doing? She struggled to keep her fingers limp and her breathing slow as every instinct wanted her to pull back. Blackburn cautiously moved his hand back to her side and to her horror she felt his fingers slide under the bottom of her top, and up. She felt him watching her in the dark, his fingers trailing light fires up on her stomach, moving up and down near her hip. Then he withdrew his hand, putting it down, her own arm tied to it, and she heard him rustle and noted a wet sound smacking the air. Anna barely breathed as she realised in horror what was happening. Well he hadn't tried to rape her on this island, although she felt he was probably capable of it. She supposed he needed some way to relieve himself. His breaths hitched, the vibrations of his movements next to her becoming faster. The movement stopped after a while as he used a broad leaf to clean up and settled back. Anna felt paralysed as Blackburn drifted back to sleep. She stayed awake that night.

The next morning Anna confronted him, her face red with indignation and embarrassment. He didn't even look embarrassed, though he did say sorry for touching her stomach. He said something she would never have thought to hear from him "I just needed some contact, being out here so long, I needed to touch someone else". It was such a human admission she couldn't believe it. But the rest of the morning passed as normal, her sniping sass at the man under her breath whilst they worked, checking the stills for water, catching fish and gathering other forms of food. There was no one else on this island but plenty of fruit and nuts, some of which Anna had never encountered before being stranded. Blackburn knew a surprising amount about safe foods to eat and how to recognise what was poisonous. Anna had become adept at the same skills, in fact, she felt she might just be able to survive alone on this island. Perhaps she should consider running.

Time continued to pass like a sad joke as everything else stood still. The weather was cooling slightly, the rain harsher at night and the days quickening. Anna grew taller, more muscular, she had lost much of the puppy fat she had started with, much of her subtle curves, her face more angular and slightly scarred. Blackburn too continued to evolve, a brown beard growing around his rugged chin, his dark eyes framed by wild eyebrows. His hair had grown longer too, he had to hack it off with a knife every so often but it was still longer than it had been. Anna sometimes thought back to their first day, the realisation that no help was coming. She wondered what their pictures would look like, then and now. She snorted. No one would recognise her. Even her eyes were harder, more secretive, careful. She was able to handle all sorts of things, do things that would have been unthinkable before. She could spear and skin animals, she could cook them on an open fire without burning the meat, make soap from the fat. She could track, navigate by the stars to an extent when out on the beach, flex string and then rope from the fibres of the palm leaves. She knew how best to help heal cuts, to bandage legs, to make braces and how to mix rudimental flowers and herbs for a medicine. Anna had learned she could endure humiliation, even undressing in front of her teacher, she could endure constant fear until it felt more like a comfortable throb, could endure incessant insect bites, rough sleeping, could even make the traps to make noise and scare away the beasts.

Anna had not forgotten about deciding to run. She had been preparing. They were unsure how large the island was. It had taken a month to walk around the whole thing, bearing in mind that they could not walk quickly in the baking heat, keeping out of the hottest part of the day. If they went through the jungle it meant an even slower pace with the density and dangers pressing in around them. The air was humid and it melted determination. They had been on the island, which Blackburn had nicknamed Stow: an Old English word for place and what Anna felt was also an apt description of what they were doing, roughly fourteen months, birthdays and Christmas passing unmarked. Anna guessed the island was perhaps 300 miles in coastline. They could make roughly ten miles a day with the heat and heavy climate. This meant there was a lot of ground in which to hide. Anna could secret herself away, moving further from Blackburn. She hoped, if she was careful, he would not be able to find her. Over the past few weeks Anna had been carefully thinking about what she needed. They were camped near the edge, about a mile from the sea. Blackburn had stills hidden around and various underground water traps which were vital for their survival. Anna was well aware that water was one of her main priorities away from Blackburn. She had hidden a couple of tools, buried by the base of a palm tree to the North of their camp, she knew a lot about survival now but water was the main priority.

Many might question why Anna wanted to run away now. It would not be possible to hide forever, the island wasn't big enough, and Anna had survived with the man for over a year. But that was the problem. Every day spent with him was another day of blunted fear, watching him in case he decided he'd had enough. If she ran, she would at least have some sort of chance if rescue came, and Anna had not given up hope. Much like when a gambler says 'one more try', Anna felt that each day meant a day closer to rescue. Surely she had waited long enough? Surely a ship would come soon?

The day came. The day for escape. Of sorts. Anna knew travelling at night, with the rain and the creatures lurking in luminous shadows, was madness. So she timed her moment well. She pretended to need the 'bathroom' (or what passed in the jungle) and made her way out of her captor's line of sight. She then quickly went West into the forage and lit a pre-prepared green fire, giving out thick, black smoke. She knew what Blackburn would do. She had taken too long on her business and he would be getting worried. He would make his way towards the latrine, and spy the smoke billowing out. This was where her plan got risky. Blackburn was an accomplished tracker and not stupid. He would realise the smoke was a trick, to lure him away. Anna hoped he would strategically go in the opposite direction, thinking she was tricking him whilst fleeing the scene of the fire. In fact, Anna would head West, double bluffing him. She knew it was only a matter of time before he realised the tracks she had put down the day before, on the opposite direction, were too old and headed back to camp, but it gave her a decent head start. She ran to her pack of essentials and tools she had smuggled away and began to make her way past the fire, and down the non-existent path, trying to go as fast as possible without leaving a mark.

It was hard and dangerous work but she had known it would be. Anna built a mound shelter, having no time to make a more stable one of branches and trees, she simply leant some branches against each other to form a long triangle, and buried the webbed sides with sand and leaves and anything she could find. It was her first night alone, having eaten a meagre meal of dried coconut, fruit and some dried meat and it was terrifying. She lay awake all night hearing the rain hitting the canopy of the jungle and penetrating the shelter. She kept thinking she could hear Blackburn creeping outside, or monstrous cat-like creatures stalking her, smelling her blood. She had not realised how secure she had felt with Blackburn's huge body next to her. The next day had been utterly nerve wracking, waiting for him to come and track her. She thought she could sense him near and made her way onwards. Anna knew full well she had no hope of outrunning him, he was better than she was, but she could still survive out here, on her own. She could.

It was a trial of fire. Hide, run, track, double guess or be caught. She planted stills, made makeshift shelters and kept moving away from where she thought he would be. For about three weeks Anna managed to evade her professor, travelling light and, on one breath-taking occasion, actually spying him nearby. On that occasion she had barely breathed, hidden high in the palm tree, watching his large form scan the area below. Gradually she found herself making her way back towards the ocean, with its brilliant bright stars and heavy, crystalline waves. And then, one night, the blackness of the jungle brilliant against the stars, her face lit up with mixed horror and thrill. Smoke was flowing up, thick and fast to the sky, three fires crackling roughly half a mile away, down the coastline to her left, in the shape of a triangle. A triangle was the international signal for help! Blackburn must have seen a ship!

Anna's heart was beating, adrenaline coursing through her veins, this was it! Rescue! Hope! But her joy was tinged with horror because this was one of the most dangerous times for her. Blackburn would not let her on that ship, and he would not want her left alive on the island to possibly be rescued another time. Her eyes scanned the trees for movement, for his figure. She spotted with a jolt, the ship, on the horizon, coming towards them. She considered lighting her own fire triangle to make it obvious, but didn't want to draw Blackburn's attention. Distant figures loaded onto a motorised boat, speeding towards the shore of Stow. The dark figures came on shore, looking nervous. Anna spotted Blackburn making his way towards them. They had seen him, he couldn't see her. She should wait for them to leave, hope for another impossible rescue, hope Blackburn would not return, wait. It might take another fifteen months but she could do it. She could survive. Suddenly Anna knew she couldn't do it. She could not let them leave. Not without her. She ran, waving her arms and shouting, using vocal chords she had barely used in a month.