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Windswept Shores Page 4
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“Sorry, Megz, I wasn’t thinking.” He shortened his gait so Megan was able to walk beside him.
She frowned up at him. “I believe you were thinking, but not about me walking with you. What’s on your mind?”
“It’s me mate, Bill.”
“What about him?”
“He’s old, he might be in trouble, and I’m not close enough to help.” A worried look entered his expression as he walked faster.
Megan grabbed the inside of his elbow. He didn’t even slow down. She found herself being pulled along. God, he’s strong as a bull. He must have recovered from yesterday. “We’ll find him. I know we will. He’s probably on the other side of the island, wondering about his countryman.”
Seth chuckled. “He’s probably wondering what kind of cock-up I got me-self into this time.”
After a two hour walk, they found the cay’s westernmost point. A rock ridge marked the end of the island, continuing up a ride like a backbone.
“Let’s take a breather.” Seth took off his backpack, stretched his arms, arching until his back popped. “Gawd, me arms are still a might sore from yesterday.”
Megan sat down gratefully on a rock, slipped off her own pack, letting it drop behind her. “Wow, here I thought I was in great shape living on my own for the past two weeks.”
“Puffed?”
“Yeah, I’m winded,” she agreed, breathing hard while rubbing her calf muscles. She pulled around her backpack, took a water bottle from her bag so she could take a drink.
“Easy with the water, Megz, ya don’t want cramps. I had ‘em yesterday and almost chunked.”
“I’ll drink it slow,” she promised, taking another swig, but then recapped the bottle even though she wanted more. Seth is right; I need to cool down first. “Here, your turn.” She handed the water to him.
“Ta.” He tipped back the water.
Megan fished out the figs that Seth didn’t want earlier. She peeled off the skin, sucking the sweet flesh into her mouth. Chewing slowly, she savored the pleasant taste. “Hmm, I don’t see why you don’t want to eat these. They are so good.”
“They looked a mite green.” He took off his hat to fan himself while he gazed out to sea.
“These aren’t green. They’re dead ripe.” She held one out to him. “Trust me I know how to pick ripe fruit. After all I’ve been living off them for the last two weeks.”
After a moment’s hesitation he took the fig in trade for the water bottle. He peeled off the fig’s skin, then took a bite. “Good,” he announced, and practically inhaled his. “Got another?”
Hunting around in her bag, she found the last one. She held it out to him. “See, I’m right. Now say it, say it.” She jiggled the fruit just out of his reach. “Megan’s right.”
He chuckled, but grabbed her hand, snatching the fig from her.
Megan squealed and laughed.
“Okay, Megz, you’re right. How did you find out, trial and error?”
“I took a gourmet cooking class, learned to cook with fruit.”
“Like your basket weaving?”
“Took a lot of classes when my boys where in school. I can throw a pot on a potter's wheel, too. Not that I’ll do much of that here.”
“It sounds like ya were a bored housewife?”
“I guess I was. Jonathan liked me home, but I finally talked him into letting me get a job. Then I worked as a general office worker until I was down sized.” She pulled off her hat and ran her fingers through her sweat-dampened hair. “So, how come you don’t know a ripe fruit form a green? Here, I thought Australia grew lots of fruit?
“It does, but I never picked any.” Seth slurped down the last bite and tossed the skin away.
“So, somebody else picked it for you?” She smirked as she slipped the water bottle back in its place. Then she stood up to stretch.
“Well, yeah? Bought ‘em at the store.” He took off his glasses to rub his eyes.
“You’ve got some fruit on your face.” She peeked over her sunglasses so she could run her thumb over his chin, along his bottom lip. Their gaze met, but when the look in Seth’s gray eyes turned intense, Megan became uncomfortable.
That’s dumb. You never touch a man you’re not married to so intimately. Embarrassed she stepped away.
Seth sucked in his bottom lip, running his tongue over it, still watching her.
His eyes look like the coals when the fire burns down, but you know they’re still hot and will flare-up at any moment. She gave herself a mental shake. Damn, I’ve been staring into fires too long. Megan wandered over to a small stream trickling through the rocks to rinse her hands.
“Uh, Megz?”
“Yes.” She shook water off her hands.
“Thank you.”
“What for?” She glanced at him.
“I reckon I didn’t thank ya for the food and the clothes.” He plucked at his Hawaiian shirt, wrinkled from sleep and getting wet earlier. “Also fer putting me up last night.”
“You mean putting up with you?” She chuckled. “I’m sure you’d do the same for me.”
“Orright, mate, anything ya need, I’ll be there.” He picked up his pack. “Ready to go?”
She slung her backpack over her shoulders. “Yes.”
Seth climbed a boulder. He gave Megan a hand up, pulling her next to him. “The going will be a bit rough, stay close so you can call-out if you need help.”
“Okay.”
They made their way over the rocks. Shrubs tried to make a foothold along this barren area. The skeleton of the ones that didn’t make it were everywhere. Megan grabbed a bone-white branch for support, but it broke in her hands.
Seth held her steady. “Careful, mate, dry rot has set in.”
They climbed the ridge to a safer spot, but disturbed some nesting sea-birds. They squawked their alarm as they took wing.
Seth moved ahead to climb up on a boulder and gazed around with one hand shading his eyes. Megan stepped up beside him, and then he turned to her. “Megz, look there.” He pointed. “That’s my mate’s boat, but see, she’s got herself beached.” Rushing down the slope he jumped from rock to rock.
Megan watched him with raised eyebrows. He’s a kangaroo.
She hurried to catch-up, stepping down between two widely spaced boulders, loose rocks rolling under her feet. “Uh-oh.” Losing her balance, she grabbed a branch which broke, causing her to slip down a steep area. She tumbled into a dead bush, and felt a sharp pain in her right thigh. “Ouch,” she cried. “Seth, help!”
Windswept Shores
Chapter 5: Walkabout
Megan fought the dried branches tangled in her pack. Fingernails broke. Skin tore from her hands, but she couldn’t pull free.
“Hold still, mate. I got ya.”
The snap of branches being broken overhead sounded as loud as gun shots, causing her to flinch.
He pulled her up, setting her gently on a boulder, then stared at her thigh. “Gawd, that looks bad.”
“It hurts.” She reached for the stick that jutted out of her leg.
“Let me, I’ve got a better vantage point.” He gingerly grabbed the end of the age-blackened twig, pulling on it gently.
“Ow, ow, ow,” Megan complained.
“I’ll have to get it in one go.” Seth looked at her a moment. “Brace yourself.” He got a good grip, giving it a hard yank.
When the end came free, Megan yelped. Taking a quick look at the torn skin, she felt the blood drain from her face.
Seth tossed the blood-stained stick away. “I reckon that’s done it, eh?” He examined the wound. “Do you have a first-aid kit on you?”
“Backpack.” She gasped. “God, that hurt worse than when it went in.”
“It had a barb on it like a hook, causing it to rip on the way out.” Pulling off her pack, he found the kit at the bottom. “There’s not much here, just band aids and antibiotic ointment.”
“There’s antiseptic wipes.” She pointed the
m out.
“Naw, Megz, these aren’t any good for a puncture wound. I need to get ya to me mate’s boat, he has a proper kit.” He did what he could to clean the area, but had to use the two biggest bandages to cover the injury. “That’s the best I can do for now. There might be a piece still in there.”
“Another piece? That’ll cause an infection.” She bit her lip as fear gripped her. This is a bad place to be without a doctor.
“It might at that.” He cleaned her knees so he could bandage them. “Bill knows a bit about nursing, being a medic in the war, and he'll know what to do.” Taking one of her hands, he turned it over. “Skinned yer-self here, too?” Removing another wipe, he ran it over her palms.
“My nails broke off.” Megan scrutinized her hands. “Damn, I didn't pack the clippers.”
Seth held up one of her fingers. “There's a trick I did when my son were a babe.” He set her fingernail between his teeth.
Megan gasped at the feel of his full lips as he nibbled. Heat pooled in her panties, as she gave a shuddered breath. I should make him stop. But when Seth's dove-gray eyes met hers, she couldn't find the strength to speak. He took another of her fingers into his mouth.
“Orright, Megz?” He spat and wiped the spittle from his chin, then jammed the remnants of the first aid kit into her backpack.
“Y-yes,” she stammered as she inspected his handiwork. “Neatly done.” Megan glanced down at her other hand, wishing she had the nerve to ask him to do that one, too.
“Hang-on to me until we’re out of these bloody rocks.” He helped her up.
Seth guided her down the treacherous ridge. He lifted her over a boulder, but she hissed with pain when her injured leg took her weight. They finally made it to the sand where walking became easier. Soon, they were in sight of the boat.
“Hang on a tick so I can find me mate.” Seth sprinted to the boat. “Cooee,” he called out. “Oy Bill.”
“Sure, fine, go right ahead. Don’t let me slow you down,” Megan muttered at his back as she limped along behind him. I wonder if Bill’s a nice man or ornery like Seth? I’m betting on ornery.
Dropping both the backpacks, Seth bounded up on the boat which listed to one side and rested high on the beach.
The storm must have tossed it all the way up there, probably a high tide along with storm surge . Megan noticed a hole in the side of the boat as she limped slowly around it. There’s seaweed draped over the bow. If Bill is here, surely he would have removed it. And he would have tried to fix the hole.
Seth’s voice echoed in the small cove, “Mayday, mayday, can anyone hear me?” Then the rapid clicks like a switch being played with. “Bloody piece of shit.”
At the other side, Megan sniffed. There was a whiff of something easy to identify. She’d smelled it before; the scent of rot, corruption, something dead lying in the sun for a long time.
She looked around and found it.
“I can't find Bill. And the radio doesn’t work. The boat might have been hit with lightning, causing an electrical short.” Seth said, “Phew, what a pong. Something’s cactus.”
“I found Bill.” Megan turned to look up at Seth. “Maybe you should come down here?”
“You did?” His smile faded as understanding filled his expression. Seth searched the beach behind her, yet she saw the moment he spotted it. “Bill?”
Seth vaulted off the boat and landed running. Sand flew with every step. He slowed down once he neared the body, falling to his knees. “Bugger it all.”
He wept. Megan’s heart went out to him. Poor man. She wanted to comfort him.
She shuffled over, but his arm shot out. “No, don't come any closer. Ya don't want to see,” he growled, but ruined the effect when he sniffled.
Megan hobbled over to the backpacks, taking out a towel.
“Bloody hell, woman. I told you not to come over here,” he snarled when she drew near.
Megan detoured around Seth’s out-thrust arm to the body’s far side. She slowly draped the towel over Bill’s scavenger-ravaged features. Crabs. She shuddered. “You don't need to look at Bill like this either.”
“Oh.” Seth scrubbed at his face with the heel of both hands.
Megan knelt painfully beside him, her wound throbbing. She touched Seth’s arm. He turned, throwing his arms around her, but squeezed hard enough that a small “huff” of air came from her. He sobbed on her shoulder. Megan rubbed his back, letting him cry for a while. “You two were very close, weren’t you?”
“We were mates,” he told her like that said it all. He turned away to wipe his face with his shirt. “How did you get close without wanting to chunder?”
“I looked into the face of every single body that washed up onshore. One more doesn’t bother me.”
He looked sidelong at her. “Looking for yer husband, eh?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “Seth, I know this is bad timing, but Bill has been here a while, so . . . we need to do something with the body.”
“What do ya suggest?”
“We could bury him, but he might, you know . . . break apart when we move him.”
He took a deep breath, let it out, then looked around. “There’s heaps of driftwood here on the beach we can just pile it up and light it.”
“All right,” she agreed, glad that he had thought of something, even though he was grieving.
“Bill always said he’d like to go out in a blaze of glory. This way he’ll get his wish.”
Windswept Shores
Chapter Six: Blaze of Glory
Seth gathered up the driftwood which littered the beach, and soon had a respectful mound over his mate’s body.
“Looks like enough.” Megan tossed on a branch.
“Hold on a tick.” Climbing back in the boat, he brought back a gas can. “Petrol. It’ll help give Bill a proper send off.” Seth splashed the wood. Taking a lighter from his pocket and a wad of paper, he lit the paper tossing it on the pile. They stood back to watch the blaze.
“Did you want a say a few words?” Megan asked.
“Orright.” Seth cleared his throat and started his eulogy. “Old Bill were a good ol’ bloke, good as they come. He took me in when I were flat, gave me a job and a home.” Taking a beer can from one of the numerous pockets on his shorts, he saluted the pyre, “Here’s to you Bill, I’ll miss ya.” He popped the top, took a sip, but dumped the rest on the fire, making it flare up. He glanced at Megan’s surprised expression. “I figured he would want some, too. After all, it’s his wake.”
Seth pulled a beer from another pocket as he continued to stare at the fire, adding wood from time to time. When he ran out of beer, he got another off the boat and continued his vigil.
Megan watched him. I guess he wants to make sure Bill is properly sent off. She looked around. It’s getting dark fast on this side of the cay. A sandstone cliff which overshadowed the beach blocked most of the weather and the wind.
Retrieving her backpack, she strode to the cliff, and removed a pouch. She pulled out a pop-up tent, and removed the band. It sprang from her hand completely set-up. You’ve got to love modern technology, too bad it won’t stand up to the wind, but it should do fine here. Megan gathered enough firewood to get dinner started.
Seth joined her, standing near the fire he stared at the pot, and gave a couple of loud sniffs. “What ya cooking, Megz?”
“Some freeze-dried food,” she told him, giving the pot a stir. “I’ve been saving it, but this seems a good time as any.”
“I think we missed lunch. I am a wee bit peckish.”
“If that means hungry, me too,” she agreed as her stomach growled.
“Where did you get the water for the billy?” He pointed to the pot.
“There’s a clean stream behind you.”
Seth turned to look. “So, there is.” He nodded toward the tent. “Are we sleeping in there?”
“Yeah, I thought we might, especially with the boat on its side.” She still felt apprehensive shari
ng a tent that small with someone who was basically a stranger, but couldn’t see an alternative.
“It is at that.” He glanced back at the boat a moment. “I can prop it up a bit. In the morning, I’ll have a go. I might take a crack at patching that wee hole, too.”
“Think you can?”
“Yeah, Bill had some patch material in case of emergencies.”
“This does qualify as an emergency. How long will it take?”
“How long is a piece of string?”
“I don’t know?”
“Well, there you go, then.” He shrugged.
As they ate the salty over-processed beef stew mix, Seth washed it down with another beer. “Oy, I’ve been so rude.” He pulled one out from a pocket, offering it to Megan, but she shook her head.
“Thanks, but I don’t drink.”
“How about a Coke, then? I think Bill stashed a few on-board.”
“Sure, if you can find one.”
“I reckon I can manage.” He climbed on the boat again, returning shortly. “Here you go, Megz.” He handed her not only a Coke, but a tea tin and sugar container. “For your morning cuppa.”
“Oh, thank you,” Megan said, pleased with the gift. She drank her Coke while Seth downed the beer he’d offered her earlier. “You’ve been drinking for hours. Don’t you think you ought to call it a night?”
“Oy, Megz, yer not me mum,” he scolded, but got out his toothbrush and cup, then staggered off to the small stream. When he came back, he collapsed next to the fire. “I’ve decided to sleep out here, mostly because I can’t take another step.”
“Fine by me.” Megan limped off to brush her teeth, and then went to sleep in the tent.
~* * *~
Water drops hit Seth on the face. It’s raining again. He blinked up at the cliff above him, revealed in the fitful flicker of the dying fire. I’m out of the worst of it, but I’m still getting soaked.
“Get-out, get-out now,” screamed Megan as she fought her nightmare.
He crawled into the tent next to her.
“No! No! Get out of the plane. It’s going to sink. Please, Jonathon, you’ve got to get out.” She sobbed. “No, it’s going under.”