By the end of the day, they laid out their belongings to dry out and made an assessment of the supplies. Clothing hung from tree limbs and palms, and both Harm and Mac trimmed down into attire more suitable for the hot weather. From their bags, they compiled an empty water bottle, various toiletries, a dysfunctional MP3 player, two soaking works of fiction, one magazine, pens, sunscreen, and forty-two bucks. Their legal notes sat deteriorating in an inky, soggy mess. At least they had toothpaste and swimsuits, Mac thought dismally. Harm and Mac now regretted packing so light, since they were left with such limited clothing and necessities. There wasn't a candy bar between them. The marine emergency kit was more promising, as it yielded fishing line, lures, medicine, bandages, a knife, waterproof matches, chlorine tablets, a flare gun, and other survival gear. Combined with their military training, these provisions would likely maintain them through the duration of their forced exile. Of course, the unknowns loomed above them. It was disconcerting to consider what could go wrong. However, they chose to focus on the basics, and hoped for a timely rescue.
Once an intake of their limited resources was completed, they set to work on other pressing tasks. First priority was finding water. Harm and Mac walked along the western side of the island, and finally headed inland when they found a stream coming out to meet the ocean. They followed its path until the source of the fresh water was found—a trickle falling out over smooth rocks. It was apparently a funnel of runoff from the mountain, collecting there after intermittent precipitation. They were thankful and tremendously relieved to find it. The water looked clean enough, certainly not stagnant. Since there were no land animals to contaminate it, Harm doubted it harbored Giardia or other dangerous bacteria. Even so, they decided to use their chlorine tablets for purification. They didn't have a pot to boil water for future use, so they'd obviously have to make a lot of trips to this water source. It became apparent that any camp site would have to be set up nearby.
After they filled the water bottle and quenched their thirst, Harm and Mac hiked up to the top of the large hill through thick foliage and rocks. They surveyed as much as they could of the land mass they found themselves on. It was actually pretty long and contained two verdant mountains covered in grass, rocks, and windswept trees. Lower down, the beaches on all sides were lined with bright green palms and various coves. It would take hours to walk around the entire island. They were lucky to have been left on such a hospitable isle. Sadly, they could see no other land in any direction, which meant they were pretty far off-shore. The ocean stretched out with vast uniformity. An awareness of their profound isolation began to descend on them. Mutely, they headed back down to the beach and continued to appraise their environment. They found a few washed up items along the shore and gathered them for future use – a moldy shoe string, a plastic spoon, an empty beer bottle, and part of an old fishing net. At least it confirmed that other people were within tidal range. It renewed their feeling of connection to the outside world.
Once a place for an encampment was established closer to the fresh water, they began to discuss how to assign the remaining jobs. Unexpectedly, Harm and Mac experienced considerable conflict over dividing up these essential responsibilities. They each had different priorities and skills, and fought over who should do what. Mac's earlier irritability resurfaced, and she became relatively sullen and uncooperative. She seemed resentful of any of Harm's suggestions, and took offense at the slightest gestures of leadership. Harm attempted to disarm her with non-threatening comments and his generally affable nature. Yet, nothing seemed to quell Mac's defensive mind-set. Harm figured she was just distraught and tried to ignore the undercurrent of hostility that he detected. They were both exhausted and a bit strung out. They would find their niche eventually, he reasoned.
It didn't take long for it to become evident that Mac was outright angry at Harm. She seemed to blame him for being stranded on the island, although clearly it was nobody's fault. She criticized Harm's fire building techniques and complained about his inability to catch fish within an hour. Mac was impatient and abrupt, at times crossing the line into rudeness. It seemed out of character for her, but still Harm tried to give her enough space to work out her feelings. He grew weary of her dark and unpleasant mood, but held back an all-out confrontation. He suspected that it would only make matters worse.
While absorbed in fishing, Harm tried to make sense of his partner's bad temperament. What was it about South America, anyway? They had just gone through a life or death struggle in Paraguay, and now they were essentially back at square one. So many things had been left unsaid between them. He hadn't pushed the issues because he didn't know where Mac stood with Clayton Webb. He and Mac had hardly talked since their return. It frustrated Harm, but truthfully, his stressed relationship with Mac was one of many unsettled issues that overshadowed his personal life. Harm pondered the reason for Mac's apparent unhappiness. Besides the obvious stress of being stranded, there seemed to be no clear explanation for the extent of Mac's anger.
By the time darkness fell, a nearly tangible tension could be felt between Harm and Mac. They barely spoke to one another and sat far apart around the campfire, each lost in their own thoughts regarding their plight. The glow of the small flames reflected on their somber faces, and the steady pounding of the ocean waves provided the only break in an otherwise silent night. They were hungry, physically drained, and both still in shock over being stranded. With that came subtle feelings of fear and despair, but they chose not to turn to each other for support. The gulf between them seemed as expansive as the endless water that surrounded the island. Neither one knew how to bridge that gap, or even had an inclination to do so.
Yet, Harm realized that their adversarial relationship couldn't go on indefinitely. If they were going to survive, they had to get along and work together. He looked over at Mac, and contemplated the best approach in dealing with her. She seemed to be having a hard time accepting their circumstances, and Harm thought he should try and throw her the mantle of charity.
"Mac…" he opened tentatively.
"What?" Her dark eyes fixed on his, revealing no warmth.
"I just wanted to know how you're doing."
"I'm okay. Why are you asking?" Mac's back became rigid, as she leaned heavily on her hands behind her.
"It matters to me. You seem pretty unsettled by all of this. It's a lot to adjust to."
"Look, we're stuck here on this godforsaken island together, but I don't have to like it. You're not my shrink, Harm."
"Hey, there's no need to attack. I'm just trying to clear the air."
Mac physically bristled at his comment. "What is there to clear, Harm?"
"I don't know. Why don't you tell me?" Harm threw back.
"I'm not going to play any word games with you."
"What is your problem? Why are you so hostile with me?"
Mac was incredulous at Harm's probing. She didn't know where to begin. They were not about to have an honest, reveal all, discussion, right then and there. She wasn't going to drag out the past and bring out all of the demons in her mind. Harm was on some mission to fix her again, and she deeply resented his arrogance and pity. He could just get off his high horse, as far as she was concerned. She didn't want any of his kindness or concern. He could save that for his in-port girlfriend. On some level, Mac knew she was being irrational. Still, she had moved into a self-protective mode, and there was no going back. She was emotionally exhausted, and could not deal with all of the mutli-layered complexities of their relationship right then. She felt compelled to close off from Harm completely. It was difficult to suppress all of the anger and despondency that still lingered from the night before. Contempt was her best defense against Harm's effort to re-establish a connection with her, a tie that seemed irreversibly lost.
Mac just openly glared at Harm, and in a cold, even tone, she said, "There is nothing to explain, Harm. You don't need to rescue me. You aren't even capable of that this time, if you hadn't noticed. You're not going to be the hero, and I'm not going to be worshiping the ground you walk on in thankfulness."
Harm actually looked hurt, which took Mac by surprise. Her words stung more than Harm wanted to admit. Harm was confused. Why had her attitude towards him had become so negative? She seemed to treat him wish so much distain, a feeling that Harm had never sensed in her before. He stared back at Mac and was at a loss at what to say. Mac sat still, seemingly unfazed by the bitterness between them.
After a number of minutes, Harm cleared his throat and calmly stated, "We are going to have to be civil with each other, Mac. I don't know what's going on with you, but I hope you get over it soon. We might be here a while." With that, Harm stood up, added some wood to the sparking red embers, and headed out for a solitary walk along the surf.
Mac thought maybe she had been a overly harsh with Harm, but wasn't about to make amends. Of all people to be thrown together with, why did it have to be Harm? She already felt confined on the island. There was no escaping him, or all of the competing emotions that surrounded their partnership. In the wake of Cartagena, Harm was the last person she would have chosen to spend time alone with. She didn't want to talk or work things out. She just longed to be back in her apartment, soaking in a bathtub, eating chocolate, and wallowing in her sorrows.
They had minimal contact the rest of the night, and slept on opposite sides of the fire ring. By morning, a pattern had been set where they worked in tandem with limited communication, setting up camp and preparing for their necessities. It bothered Harm, and he dwelled on it throughout the day. However, he recognized that Mac's disposition was beyond his control. Something was obviously upsetting her, but there was little Harm could do to uncover it.