The morning dawned quiet, the calm ocean glistening under the first rays of sunlight. Rachel sat cross-legged on the sand, nibbling on a piece of fruit while Finn worked on reinforcing their shelter. He was whistling softly, a habit Rachel had noticed when he was focused. For the first time since the crash, the tension between them had eased into something resembling camaraderie.
"We need to go back to the stream," Finn said, wiping sweat from his brow. "Refill the water bottle and maybe set up something more permanent near there."
Rachel nodded. "Good idea. I can look for more food along the way."
They set off together, retracing their path into the jungle. Finn marked the trees again, even though Rachel had memorized the route. His insistence on "backup plans" was both irritating and oddly reassuring.
When they reached the stream, Rachel went straight to the water's edge to fill the bottle while Finn inspected the area. He was crouched near a cluster of rocks when he froze.
"Rachel," he called, his voice sharp. "Come here."
She turned, water sloshing from the bottle as she hurried to his side. "What is it?"
Finn pointed to a tree trunk near the rocks. Deep grooves were etched into the bark—crude markings that didn't look natural. Rachel squinted, trying to make sense of the symbols. They weren't letters, but they were deliberate: a series of slashes and circles forming a pattern.
"Do you think someone else was here?" she asked, her voice hushed.
Finn nodded slowly. "Looks like it. But who? And when?"
Rachel's stomach twisted at the thought. The markings were old, the edges worn by weather, but the idea of another person—or people—being on the island sent a chill down her spine. "What do we do?"
"We keep looking around," Finn said, standing. "If there's more, it might tell us something."
They followed the stream upstream, scanning the area for more signs. Rachel's nerves were on edge, every rustle in the jungle making her jump. Finn stayed ahead, his broad shoulders cutting through the foliage like a shield.
After about twenty minutes, they came across another marking. This one was on a flat rock near the water, the same pattern of slashes and circles carved into the surface.
Finn crouched to examine it. "Whoever did this must've been here a while."
"Or still is," Rachel whispered, glancing around nervously.
Finn looked up at her, his expression serious. "If they are, we'll deal with it. But I don't think we're in danger. These look old."
Rachel didn't respond, her mind racing. The thought of another person on the island was both terrifying and hopeful. If someone else had survived here, maybe they could too. But why hadn't they been rescued? What if they hadn't made it off the island at all?
As they made their way back to camp, Rachel's thoughts refused to settle. She kept replaying the markings in her mind, trying to decipher their meaning. When they reached the beach, Finn dropped the supplies they'd gathered and turned to her.
"You okay?" he asked.
She nodded, though her expression betrayed her unease. "It's just… what if they didn't make it? What if we're stuck here forever?"
Finn stepped closer, his steady presence grounding her. "We're not gonna give up, Rachel. Whoever was here before, they're not us. We're gonna get through this."
She looked up at him, his confidence steadying her. "How can you be so sure?"
"Because I'm not alone," Finn said simply. "And neither are you."
Rachel's chest tightened at his words. Despite everything, she trusted him. Finn Hudson, the boy she'd dismissed as unambitious and reckless, had become her rock.
"Thanks," she said softly.
Finn smiled. "Anytime, Berry."
As they sat by the fire that evening, Rachel couldn't stop thinking about the carvings. They were a mystery, but one thing was clear: the island held more secrets than they'd imagined. And whatever those secrets were, she and Finn would face them together.
The jungle buzzed with life as night fell, but Rachel and Finn barely noticed, their minds still preoccupied with the carvings they'd found earlier. The fire crackled softly between them, offering a small comfort in the growing darkness.
"Do you think there could be animals on the island?" Rachel asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
Finn glanced at her. "Probably. We've seen birds and crabs. Why?"
Rachel shrugged, pulling her knees to her chest. "I just… I keep hearing noises at night. In the trees."
Finn smirked. "Relax, Berry. It's probably just the wind."
She frowned. "I'm serious, Finn. What if it's something bigger? Something dangerous?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. "You've gotta stop watching horror movies."
Rachel scowled but didn't respond. Instead, she stared into the fire, willing her imagination to quiet down.
Hours later, the fire had burned low, and the beach was cloaked in darkness. Rachel stirred from her restless sleep to the sound of rustling outside their shelter. She froze, her breath catching in her throat. It wasn't the wind. This was something—or someone—moving through the brush.
"Finn," she whispered urgently, shaking his arm.
He groaned, his eyes barely opening. "What is it?"
"Listen," she hissed.
Finn sat up slowly, his muscles tensing as the sound grew louder. The rustling was closer now, accompanied by the faint snapping of twigs. He grabbed the makeshift spear they'd fashioned earlier and crawled to the edge of the shelter, peering out.
Rachel followed, her heart pounding. In the moonlight, she could make out a shadowy figure moving near their supplies. Her first thought was a person—but then it stepped into the light, and she saw it clearly.
A wild boar.
"Stay back," Finn whispered, gripping the spear tightly.
The boar snorted, its tusks gleaming as it rooted through their small pile of food. Finn crept forward, his movements slow and deliberate. Rachel held her breath, watching as he raised the spear and aimed for the animal's side.
Just as Finn lunged, the boar let out a high-pitched squeal and charged. Finn stumbled backward, narrowly avoiding the tusks as the animal barreled past him, knocking over their water bottle in the process.
"Finn!" Rachel screamed, scrambling to her feet.
"I'm fine!" he yelled, rolling to avoid another charge. The boar spun around, its small eyes glinting with aggression.
Rachel's heart raced as she grabbed a piece of driftwood and waved it in the air. "Hey! Over here!" she shouted, hoping to distract the animal.
The boar hesitated, its attention flickering between them. Finn seized the opportunity, thrusting the spear forward again. This time, the point grazed the boar's flank, drawing blood. With a final squeal, the animal turned and bolted into the jungle, disappearing into the shadows.
Rachel collapsed onto the sand, her chest heaving. "That was terrifying."
Finn dropped the spear and sat beside her, his hands shaking. "No kidding. That thing was huge."
She glanced at their scattered supplies, her heart sinking. The boar had trampled most of the fruit they'd gathered and spilled their precious water. "This is a disaster," she muttered.
Finn ran a hand through his hair, his breathing steadying. "It could've been worse. At least we're okay."
Rachel looked at him, surprised by his calm demeanor. "How are you not freaking out right now?"
He shrugged. "Guess I'm getting used to all this. Besides, we scared it off. That's a win."
She shook her head in disbelief. "You're insane."
Finn grinned, his usual confidence returning. "Maybe. But at least I'm alive."
The rest of the night passed fitfully, both of them too on edge to sleep. By morning, they'd cleaned up the mess and salvaged what little they could.
"We need a better way to protect our supplies," Finn said as they sat by the rebuilt fire.
Rachel nodded. "Maybe we could build a storage area. Something higher off the ground."
"Good idea," Finn said, smiling at her. "Look at you, turning into a survival expert."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. Despite the fear and chaos of the night, they'd come out stronger—and more determined. The island might throw more challenges their way, but they were ready to face them.
The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and crimson as Rachel and Finn sat by the fire, eating what little they'd salvaged from the boar's raid. The day had been exhausting—fortifying their camp, building a makeshift platform for supplies, and ensuring they wouldn't face another night of chaos.
As the fire crackled softly, Rachel leaned back against a piece of driftwood, her gaze fixed on the flames. For the first time in days, the stillness felt comforting instead of eerie.
"You ever think about home?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
Finn, who had been sharpening their makeshift spear, looked up. "All the time. You?"
"Every second," she admitted, her voice softer than usual. "I miss my dads. They're probably worried sick."
Finn set down the spear and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "Tell me about them."
Rachel's lips curved into a faint smile. "They're amazing. My dads have always been my biggest supporters. They put me in voice lessons when I was three and never let me doubt myself, even when I got teased in school." Her voice wavered slightly, and she swallowed hard. "I just… I hate that they don't know where I am. They must think something terrible happened."
Finn nodded, his expression serious. "They'll find us, Rachel. They won't stop looking until they do."
She glanced at him, the sincerity in his voice making her chest tighten. "What about you? Who's waiting for you back home?"
Finn leaned back, staring up at the emerging stars. "My mom. She's the best. It's just been the two of us since my dad died when I was little. She worked two jobs to make sure I had everything I needed, even when things were tough."
Rachel's heart softened at his words. "She sounds incredible."
"She is," Finn said, smiling faintly. "She always believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself. When I told her I wanted to try singing, she was all for it. Bought me my first guitar, even though we couldn't really afford it."
Rachel's gaze softened. "She must be so proud of you."
Finn shrugged, his smile fading slightly. "I don't know. I've made a lot of dumb choices. Skipped out on opportunities, wasted time… I just hope I get the chance to make it up to her."
"You will," Rachel said firmly. "If she's anything like my dads, she's already proud of you. Parents see the best in us, even when we don't."
Finn nodded, his eyes distant. "Yeah. I just hope she knows I'm okay."
They sat in silence for a moment, the crackling fire filling the space between them. Rachel wrapped her arms around her knees, her thoughts drifting to her dads. She could almost hear their voices, her dad's gentle humor and her papa's practical wisdom.
"I used to get so frustrated with them," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought they were overprotective, always hovering. But now… I'd give anything to have them here. To hear them tell me everything's going to be okay."
Finn reached over and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "They're out there, Rachel. Thinking the same thing about you. We'll get back to them."
Rachel met his gaze, her eyes shimmering in the firelight. "Thank you," she said softly. "For reminding me of that."
Finn smiled, his hand lingering on her shoulder for a moment before he pulled it away. "We're in this together, Berry. No way I'm letting you do this alone."
As the stars multiplied above them, Rachel felt a flicker of hope. The island might be their reality now, but they still carried pieces of home with them—pieces they could hold onto until they found their way back.