Illya quickly searched among the crates that had smashed open after they had been tossed when the ship was jolted to it's side.
He found what he needed in only a precious few minutes... just a few explosive devices to trigger it all to detonate; he set the timers, giving himself just enough time to get above deck and into one of the lifeboats... he hoped, assuming the whole thing just did not blow up in his face before he made it into one of the boats.
Illya counted aloud, down from ninety as he ran, striding the steps two and three at a time, pulling himself up by the railings.
He got to the deck gasping for breath with twenty seconds to spare, but looking around, his heart sank; the lifeboats were all gone, disappeared somewhere on the the raging waters with the rest of the crew... he was too late.
The rain driven sideways by the howling wind lashed against him, stinging his face as the waves crashed across the deck; the Maru continuing to flounder. Illya was pounded pounding as he grabbed the railing with both his hands. He waited for the explosions and for what he was sure was the end of his life.
It was daylight when Kuryakin awoke, face down on a sandy beach, dazed and confused. His head was pounding, his ears hurt... almost every muscle in his body cried out to him as he finally moved.
The last thing he remembered was the initial concussion on the Maru as everything in the hold began to go off in a cascade of explosions. He had no idea how he survived it, much less how he got here, wherever here was?
Illya pulled himself up to his feet with a moan, spitting sand from his mouth. He found he was missing one of his boots and pulled off the remaining one, discarding it. He walked along the sand in his bare feet.
Looking up and down the strand, he saw no one and nothing but bits of wreckage that he assumed were from the Haruku Maru.
The ocean was now calm now and glass-like, as the waves gently foamed up onto the sand. He shaded his eyes with his hands as he scanned the water, but there was nothing there to see.
Walking a little farther up the beach; he felt drained of all his energy, and hearing the rumble of thunder in the distance, he looked looked to the sky seeing the flash of lightening and darkening clouds that loomed out over the water. Another storm was coming his way.
He wandered until he found shelter in a weather-worn cave along the shore line about a mile or so from where he first woke and there he curled up to rest and was at least protected from the approaching storm. He dozed off, despite the loud thunder claps that echoed inside the cave.
Illya woke with a start to the now softening rumbles of thunder. It had begun to rain; the drops of water falling outside the cave and the waves as they washed in were the only other sounds he heard. He cupped his hands, filling them with rainwater as it trickled down, drinking it greedily.
His thoughts drifted to her...the letter he had left on Elliott McGowan's dresser the last night they had spent together, making love until the early morning hours.
He had hoped she felt about him the way he did about her and risked opening his heart, but now he might ever know for sure if it was worth taking the chance. This time Napoleon would not be coming to his rescue. No one would because no one knew that he was still alive and even where he was. Again Illya asked himself where this place could be? He didn't recall any island on the map he'd been using to track the course of the Maru.
Illya suddenly felt very alone and vulnerable; feelings he had not dealt with since he was very young...
He remained in the cave, sleeping through the night as it continued to rain; the next morning when the storm had passed, he began to explore.
It appeared to be an an atoll... not very large as he managed to walk almost the full circumference in a few hours. The far side was nothing but jagged rocks with no beach whatsoever. While he walked, he found a source of fresh water near its center, a freshwater pool protected by a lining of palm trees and large tropical plants.
There were plenty of birds and parrots in the trees, squawking and chirping as he moved about, a source of food, if he could fashion a sling shot.
That would require fire...he suddenly had a thought, and felt his pant pockets. Yes! They were still there, a pair of his reading glasses; he could use the power of the tropical sun and the lenses to ignite tinder for a fire. In his other pocket was his pocket knife...this was definitely good!
As he walked along continuing to explore, iguanas hidden in the trees came down to look at him, obviously they were unaccustomed to humans and unafraid of him and would scurry in front of him as he continued to move along the sandy beach.
He carefully moved down to a tidal pool, finding small fish and crabs scuttling about the rocks; he knew he would have enough food to survive for now. The cave would do for his shelter until he could build something more visible... he needed to stay on the beach and maintain a signal fire.
In spite of overwhelming odds against it, Illya refused to give up the possibility of a rescue.
As he continued along the rocks near the tidal pools, he suddenly heard it...a whimpering sound like a dog? He had remembered hearing one barking on the Maru, but happily, never saw it.
When he went farther along the rocks he found it, a large white dog entangled and trapped in netting on an outcrop along the water's edge.
It had to be the same one from the ship and it began to bark as soon as it spotted him. Illya hated dogs, in truth he actually feared them, but something in him could not bear to see the animal trapped so as it would surely die. So he set about freeing it from the ropes with is pocket knife.
After a few snaps from the dog, it settled down and stopped struggling, realizing that Illya was not going to harm it, at least not for now.
He had not eaten dog meat in a very long time, and was not sure that he wanted to do it again. Illya finally untangled the last of the netting, setting the beast free...the ungrateful creature took off down the beach at a dead run, which was fine by him.
Kuryakin spent the rest of the day settling in his camp on the beach, starting his fire and having it burning within minutes. Then he used his pocket knife to whittle a narrow branch into a sharpened spear that he used to kill some the fish in the pond; he roasted these on a spit in the fire, drank sweet coconut milk and meat from a few that had fallen from the palm trees; he sighed, feeling satisfied by his first real meal as a castaway.
Another storm blew in that night and Illya was forced to abandon the signal fire, retreating again to the cave for shelter. He used the coconut husks to catch the water, rather than making a trip in the rain to the fresh water pool.
The next day he began the work of constructing a lean-to that would offer him protection on the beach, dragging fallen trees and sturdy branches to act as the frame, he would cover it with palm fronds and large leaves. The shelter would allow him to remain on the beach and maintain his fire, hoping that some ship or plane passing by might see it and investigate.
The shelter was half finished but Illya found himself getting hungry. He dug a shallow pit, lining it with rocks, then set a cooking fire in it; roasting crab, fish and coconuts, baking them under a layer of large green leaves.
When he was done with his feast, he felt sleepy and simply laid down in the sand on his stomach dozing off, letting the sun warm his sore muscles but suddenly his senses made him aware of something; he lifted his head slowly... coming face to face with what looked like a cobra.
The reptile rose, flaring its hood, swaying back and forth in front of the Russian as he stared at it, maintaining eye contact, but not moving a muscle.
He could not recall that there were any of the cobra species beyond Australia, and wondered how this one got here? Illya remained frozen, as there was no escaping the lightning strike of a cobra from the position he lay in. He only hoped that if he did not move; the snake would not perceive him as a threat and eventually move on.
It seemed as though he remained still for an eternity, and he was starting to get tired holding the same position for so long; his neck pained him as he held up his head.
The snake was not retreating, and it was only a matter of time before Kuryakin flinched and the cobra struck.
Suddenly a white blur appeared to the left, Illya could see it just out of the corner of his eye; distracting the snake long enough for Illya to quickly roll out of harm's way...the dog had charged the cobra and had the snake's' head in its jaws in a second, shaking it violently until the serpent ceased it's thrashing.
Illya got to his feet, quickly heading up and into a tree, out of the reach of the dog.
It came towards the tree in which Illya was now perched, dragging the carcass of the snake in its jaws... then dropped it in the sand at the base of the tree. The beast began to bark while looking up at him.
"Go away dog!" Illya yelled down at it "Uhodit'!_(go away)!" he said in Russian. "Tachisaru! Umalis!" he repeated it in Japanese, then Filippino.
The dog ceased its barking, eyeing him, but finally turned away and disappeared back among the trees where it apparently came from, leaving the remains of the snake behind.
Illya waited a few minutes, and when he deemed the coast was clear, he hopped down to the ground, retrieving the body of the snake, smiling as he whispered the word..."dinner."
He stripped the skin, cleaning the meat in fresh water, then let it marinate in a brine of salt water and coconut milk and and seaweed. Later that afternoon, he skewered the meat on a long stick and roasted it over the fire. After it had roasted for a bit, he cut off a piece, tasting it and found it quite good.
Suddenly the dog appeared again out of no where.
"Der'mo!(shit) Illya cursed as he stumbled backwards, trying to stand in order to get away.
He held his pocketknife out in front of him defensively, but the dog did not move towards him. It just sat beside the fire, whimpering just a little, eyeing the snake that was still roasting on the skewer.
"Are you hungry?' Illya said, though he was nervous, still having a fear of dogs,"If I give you food, you will not bite me?" He thought of the absurdity of speaking to a dumb animal, as if it could really understand him, but no matter. The beast had saved his life, and provided supper.
Illya moved closer to the fire with caution, and cutting off a substantial piece of the snake meat, he tossed it over near the dog.
"There, now go! Leave me AWAY!" He called.
It grabbed the meat and took off down the beach.
Illya sighed in relief, but knew now he had to be on his guard, as the dog would probably return. He ate the rest of the snake, without being disturbed, washing it down with a chaser of coconut milk.
By the next day, he had completed his lean-to. it would do, but as he sat beside the fire and looked at it, he realized how pitiful looking it was. He continued working on it until he was satisfied at how sturdy it was and would protect him from small storms, anything worse and he would again have to retreat to the cave.
By the seventh day, boredom had begun to creep in...he stayed aware of his surroundings though luckily he had not seen the dog again since that day it saved him from the cobra. Once could only explore a small atoll so many times.
He sat down at the water's edge using a small stick to scratch mathematical equations in the wet sand, just to keep his mind busy and not focusing on his loneliness.
He was missing Elliott terribly and had to force himself not to think about her, as he found his sadness to be overwhelming; an emotion he'd not had to deal with since he was a child.
Illya reminded himself that he had to stay strong and confident; he would somehow be rescued and reunited with his Annushka. That thought kept him going, know she was there and would be waiting for him. He had bared his soul to her, professing his love, and he just knew she loved him as well.
He thought about what Napoleon would do, what sort of plan his clever mind would come up with, but unfortunately he was not like his partner so the best idea Illya had was to maintain the fire and keeping it built high.
For the moment, there was plenty of driftwood along the shore he could use, when that was gone, he would start using wood from farther in the atoll.
He had found a couple of plastic containers washed up on the beach, and now had something to keep his fresh water in rather than making frequent trips to the pool in the interior of the atoll, so his camp was now fairly comfortable. He lean-to was sufficient, he had fresh water within reach, enough food and a good fire.
He just had to avoid the dog, and any other unwanted creature, hoping the cobra had been the only one on the atoll and he would be all right for now.
He began notching one of the palm trees with his knife to count the days he had spent marooned. On the twelfth day he spotted something square and metallic, shining in the sun along the water's edge. Once closer, he realized it was his silver brief case...how it survived the explosions and washed up here was near impossible odds.
He hoped against even greater odds that what was inside the case was dry and undamaged.