The sun was already very high in the sky but the only two residents of the island seemed to treat themselves with a sleep in. Sybil, however, was between two waters: not completely awake yet but not sleeping either. She heard a light humming and she first thought that it was Tom snoring on the beach before realizing that the sound was much too loud to come from a human being.
She pushed the door of the plane open and passed her still a little bit cloudy head through the small opening. Near the now dead camp fire, she saw the lying form of Tom, and she blinked several times to adjust to the light. The sound hummed again and she looked up at the sky.
She saw a plane flying and it woke her up completely.
"Oh My God, a plane!"
She ran outside the cockpit.
"Oh, a plane! I need a flare!"
She ran to Tom who was still sleeping.
"Hey, Tom! Tom!"
He was lying on the sand and preciously hugging the rum bottle to his chest as if it was a kindly lover. Sybil shook her head and let herself fall next to him, determined to sober him at any cost. She started to shake him with all her strength.
"Wake up! There's a plane," she yelled.
"Hummm," groaned Tom.
"Tom, we need…grrrrrrrrr…"
She bit at her lip and quickly thought about what to do as Tom did not wish to return to the land of the living.
"You asked for it," she roared between gritted teeth before throwing herself at him.
She lifted up his tee-shirt, remembering that she saw him put the flare in his shorts the night before. And effectively, the handle of the pistol was peeking out of the green cloth and Sybil took hold of it before pulling at it strongly. Her gesture hadn't had the wanted result and, instead of coming to her, the pistol refused to get out of its hiding place and pulled her forward. She fell on Tom heavily.
"Shit!" she roared, still pulling at the wanted object.
Sensing the agitation around him, Tom was beginning to move but it was still quite blurry for him. But Sybil didn't admit defeat, not even close. She straddled her friend and pulled again with all her strength. At last, the pistol slid along Tom's belly and she rose up, her trophy brandished high in her hand. She pointed it to the sky and was about to shoot when Tom, slowly waking up at last, rolled on his back. His move made his leg hit Sybil's ankle and, instead of flying high in the sky, the flare went right into the closest palm tree and ended its course in a firework worthy of a 4th of July. Thrown off balance, Sybil fell on Tom before rolling over him to end lying at his side on her back. Tom smiled and turned to her. He put one arm across her chest, still half asleep.
"Hello my little sugar," he breathed in her ear.
"Oh no," moaned Sybil, trying to turn around to note the damages.
But Tom, who was hugging her, was also preventing her from moving like she wanted and she rolled on top of him to free herself.
"Oh my God," she moaned again once up but still draping over Tom's body.
Still in his world of dreams, Tom let his hand slide along the soft skin of Sybil's thigh.
"Hummm," he moaned, satisfied.
Sybil gave him a slap on the hand to stop him before walking to the damaged tree while groaning.
"Oh nooo," she said, holding her head between her hands and seeing the palm tree on fire.
"What?" asked Tom, sitting up and shaking his head to make all the sleep go away.
"Oh, stupid, stupid girl!" she exclaimed to herself.
Seeing the flames, Tom woke up right away. His blood boiled when he saw the pistol in the sand. Did she do what he thought she did ?
"But, what…?" he started, noticing their only flare was missing.
He rose up and turned to Sybil.
"But what did you do?" he exclaimed as she had her back at him, her eyes still glued on the burning palm tree. "You wasted our only flare? To shoot at this damn tree!?"
Sybil sharply turned to him.
"I wouldn't have shot at this damn palm tree if you wouldn't have made me fall when I was trying to alert the plane!"
"What do you mean? What plane?"
" The plane over there!" she said after walking a few steps on the beach, pointing at it.
"What, this plane over there?" roared Tom pointing at it too.
"Yes," answered Sybil, her fists on her hips.
"It's a long-distance airliner. It's at 8000 meters of height; it flies at 1000 km/h. It wouldn't see an atomic explosion even if it was looking for it, much less a simple flare!" yelled Tom.
Sybil looked down when she understood her mistake but she refused to believe that Tom would yell at her. She looked up and glared at him.
"How should I know that? If you didn't drink until you fell in a coma then you could have told me," she said through gritted teeth, walking to him.
"Do you realize?" asked Tom, pointing an accusatory finger at her.
"What?"
"Do you realize?" he repeated.
"WHAT?!"
"It was our only chance to be found and now it's gone all because of you!"
"You have some nerve making me responsible. And if you were a REAL pilot, we wouldn't be on this island in the first place!" she finished, yelling.
"I'm the best pilot you ever had!" he yelled even louder.
"Oh, really? I fly twice with you and we crashed half the time!" she said before turning around and heading to the wrecked plane.
Tom looked at her, puzzled, not knowing how to respond as she was right in the end. He was still thinking over her last remark when she stopped and turned around to him:
"And there's nothing wrong with my boobs!" she added, yelling at him.
She glared at him, nodded and then climbed in the plane, violently shutting the door behind her.
Search helicopterIt had been several hours now, they were turning around in vain, and Larry was becoming impatient. He looked at Tom's girlfriend who seemed to be relaxed enough after her earlier panic attack. She was sliding an ice cube on her face to try to freshen up.
"All this water is terrifying," he said to her.
"Don't worry. Wherever they are, your friend is in good hands with Tom."
Larry threw a doubtful glance at her.
"What do you mean?" he asked, unsure about the way Tom could really use his hands with his fiancé.
"Tom is a kickass survivalist. She's safe with him…"
Larry pulled a skeptical face and looked back at the ocean through the window, hoping to spot, at last, something that could tell them his fiancé was indeed safe and sound.
To be continued