Cristelle Comby - Alone Together

Later, having finally given up his netting project, Killian reached for a fish and I gave him two. I took one for myself and started munching contentedly. Before I had time to finish it, he reached for a third one, muttering some pathetic rhetoric I couldn’t understand. A few choice words drifted to the tip of my tongue, but I clenched my teeth. Instead, I nabbed the final fish before that one disappeared too.

“Sure, help yourself, why don’t you?” I said, my voice as scathing as I could make it. He may not have understood my words but there was no way he would misinterpret my tone.

Killian didn’t seem that bothered by my attitude. He kept on eating, as if I hadn’t said anything. A few seconds of this and I exploded.

“Do you not understand simple compassion for your fellow human being?!” I yelled at him, leaping to my feet. “We are in a life-or-death situation here! Stranded on a deserted island, no help coming! So of all the damned times to learn to understand and value other people… Now. Is. The time. Now , Killian! Because I—”

That man cut me off by leaping to his own feet and blurting out some gibberish that was alien to my Swiss ears. He looked so stupid and pointless while he was talking… as if he were making an extreme effort to get me to understand. His volume increased by the second, not rude and obtrusive but far too abusive and controlling for me to deal with. Well, I had enough fire in me to reply in kind, and within a minute we were both yelling in each other’s face as the tone escalated.

Then the unthinkable happened. Killian grabbed my wrist and shouted into my face some dumb obscenities which I was glad I didn’t understand. I broke out of his wrist grab by working against his thumb before using that same hand to slap him hard across the face.

That stopped his ranting cold. The anger vanished, replaced by a flaccid mask of indifference. It’d stopped me cold too, cut the wind right out of my sails and left me feeling queasy. I could have apologised. I probably should have. But I didn’t.

Instead, I turned on my heel, grabbed the nearest blanket and went as far from him as I could. I laid myself down on the earth outside, near the forest path, facing the quiet frothy waves that came to die on the moonlit shore.

Had I taken it too far ? I wondered while looking up at the starry sky. If so , why did I feel so vindicated ? Killian had it coming , hadn’t he ? His moodiness was too much to handle . He needed to be taught that lesson . But then … that look in his eyes , when I —

I shut my eyes as hard as I could. I should never have done that … never . And it ’s too late to take it back .

My thoughts swirling, I drifted into a fitful sleep that offered little rest.

I bundled half of what we had—my half!—into a bag and left without looking back. I’d had more than enough of that woman and her entitled attitude. It was bad enough that I was stuck on this God-forsaken island. Why should I have to put up with anyone as annoying… as disrespectful… as hateful and distasteful as her ? Short answer: I shouldn’t have. So I wouldn’t.

The cove we’d discovered that first day was what I had in mind. With the large rock formation on the left, the evening draft wouldn’t be so bad. I bet fish were easier to catch in that ensconced space. Let Anne-Marie stay on her fancy beach and dip her toes in the sand all she wanted. I was a Scotsman. My people were used to hard pebbles and treacherous footing. Maybe that’s why we were so different. I was tough as rock, she was soft as sand. And ne’er the two shall mix.

It was a short trek back to what was left of the plane’s tail. On the outside, there wasn’t much we hadn’t cannibalised save for the tail itself and one of the back elevator fins. As I walked up to it, I made a note of their size and shape, committing the details to memory for the time when I’d be building my own shelter. It couldn’t come soon enough.

Let Anne-Marie keep her four walls and flat roof. Just as long as she was out of my sight and I was out of hers, that’d be fine by me. I’d build my shelter just the way I wanted it. I could come up with a system to maximise the use of my time and resources, establish a hierarchy of priorities. It’d be a sturdy space, sure, but a practical one too. Complete with storage and amenities. Yes, that sounded like the way to go about it. In a situation like this, organisation was everything. Feeling in my element at last, I walked onto the cove with gusto.

My job at Blackfriars Bank was to assess foreign teams to maximise time and resources, better the global organisation and further the employee investment’s levels… all of which would help increase the company’s profit margins. That kind of job required the utmost focus and dedication, along with a lot of personal abnegation. Though I was an important part of a well-oiled machine, people always treated me as the harbinger of bad news. After all, if I’d been summoned to their corner of the world, it meant that they weren’t adequate and heads would roll shortly thereafter. I never once saw a welcoming face as I went from one office to the next to carry out my duties. Few were those that understood that mine was a job that had to be done, and I took considerable pride in doing it well.

This day, it seemed the tide had changed. For the first time in a long while, there would be no one to pass judgement on my actions. No one but me.

The cove was how I remembered it. A small, hidden gap in the middle of a long rock formation that coursed the length of this side of the island. It was high enough that the high-tide wouldn’t reach up to the rock’s roots. I set down my stuff at the cliff’s base and walked up to the water. Right then, the tide was low, the waves choppy; somewhere between rough and gentle. Dipping my fingers in, I discovered the water was as cold here as it was on the other side of the island. Well, it was all the same sea, so no surprise there.

Movement to my left caught my attention. I saw the back end of an appetising fish swimming away. The sudden appearance of a large shape above the water must have surprised it. I smiled as I realised I’d been right about the prospect of an easy meal. Besides, that one had to be twice the size of the fish that’d made it into those tiny tide-pools.

Something else caught my eye when I looked up. Something blue and red and bobbing in and out of the surf, caught between the tips of two rocks and tree branches jammed there. It was another bloody suitcase, what was left of it, anyway. There was a large tear in the plastic material on the one side. But the rest of it looked intact.

“No wasting potential resources,” I muttered as I went back to where I’d left my belongings. My shoes, shirt and pants joined the pile as I readied for a swim. While I didn’t look forward to dipping into the freezing waters, there was no other way to reach that flotsam and jetsam. Taking in a deep breath, I walked into the surf with clenched teeth.

Goosebumps erupted all over my skin, like an allergic reaction. But coldness was just raw information sent to my brain. I disregarded it the way a tosser back home blinks away the “smoking kills” warning on a pack of fags. Determined, I kept walking into the ocean. Once I was waist-deep, I started swimming.

The current wasn’t as strong in the cove as it was near the beach and it was a short swim to reach the suitcase. It was harder to tear it away from that clog of branches though. They stood out at odd angles like protective barriers, sharp and unforgiving. I couldn’t lean on the nearby rocks either. The constant water and time hadn’t been enough to smooth the sharp angles and cleft edges.