I jerked awake with a sharp inhale, sitting up so fast I nearly toppled sideways.
"What the hell—!" I sputtered, wiping at my face.
He stood over me, smirking. In his hand, a soggy palm leaf still dripping water.
"Morning, princess," he said casually. "Rise and shine."
I glared up at him "You did not just wake me up with swamp water."
He shrugged, unbothered. "Better than letting you sleep through half the day."
I wiped my face on his crumpled shirt, shooting him a deadly look.
He snorted, kicking some sand onto the firepit to smother the last of the embers. "Save the threats. You'll need the energy."
I pushed myself to my feet, grumbling the whole time. My body ached like I'd been hit by a truck, and my stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself from the inside out.
He must've seen me swaying, because he tilted his head and said, "Here. Eat."
He tossed me a handful of something — I caught it reflexively and stared down.
Berries.
Small, dark ones, squished a little from his grip but still mostly intact.
I hesitated. "You sure these aren't gonna kill me?"
"Pretty sure," he said, grinning. "I ate one. Still here, aren't I?"
"That's not science," I muttered, but I popped one into my mouth anyway.
Tart. A little sweet. Nothing terrible happened. Yet.
"See?" he said, crossing his arms. "You gotta learn to trust me."
I made a show of chewing thoughtfully. "I'll trust you when you stop waking me up like a wet dog."
He chuckled under his breath, reaching for his own share of the berries. "Fair enough."
We ate in silence for a few minutes, the sun crawling higher into the sky, already baking the sand.
Finally, he said, mouth half-full, "We should move today."
I blinked at him. "Move? Why?"
He tossed a berry pit into the firepit. "That little stream might dry up. And we need better shelter. Maybe even find higher ground to spot a ship."
I stared at him for a long second, surprised by how practical he sounded.
"You sure you're not secretly some kind of survivalist freak?" I asked suspiciously.
He gave a lazy smile. "Nah. I just actually paid attention in Boy Scouts."
I nearly choked. "You were a Boy Scout?"
"Briefly," he said, looking mock-offended. "Before they kicked me out for 'attitude issues.'"
"Come on," he said, standing and holding out a hand. "Let's pack up. Daylight's wasting."
I stared at his outstretched hand for a second, pride and stubbornness duking it out inside me.
Then, grudgingly, I slapped my hand into his and let him pull me up.
"Fine," I said, brushing sand off my legs. "But if we get eaten by a bear, I'm blaming you."
He grinned over his shoulder as he grabbed the last of our sad supplies.
"Sweetheart," he said, "if there's a bear on this island, I'm feeding you to it first."
"Wait," I called after him, stomping along the sand.
We set off along the tree line, the sand hot enough to sting my bare feet until we hit cooler soil under the canopy.
The jungle air was thick and wet, buzzing with the sounds of a hundred unseen things. I shoved a branch out of my face, muttering, "I swear if a snake drops on me, I'm flipping out."
"Relax," he said over his shoulder, like it was no big deal. "Snakes don't usually fall out of trees."
I narrowed my eyes at his back. "Usually isn't comforting."
He just chuckled and kept moving, parting the thick ferns with his arms like he owned the place.
We climbed over a fallen tree, skirted around a swampy patch of mud, and pushed deeper into the trees. Every now and then he'd pause, checking the sun's position like some kind of human compass.
It would've been impressive if I wasn't too busy tripping over roots and cursing under my breath.
"How far are we going?" I huffed, swatting another mosquito.
"Till we find something better than a lopsided hut made of garbage," he called back.
"High bar you're setting," I grumbled.
Another half-hour passed, the heat making my shirt cling to my skin, sweat dripping down my spine. Just when I was about to ask questions, he stopped dead in his tracks.
I almost barreled right into him. "What? What is it?"
He lifted a hand, motioning for silence.
I strained my ears. For a second, all I heard was the usual buzz of insects.
And then… something else.
A faint metallic clink.
I frowned. "You hear that?"
He nodded slowly. His face was tight, cautious. "Come on. Quietly."
We crept forward, slipping between thick vines and low-hanging branches until the trees thinned out—and there it was.
A clearing.
And right in the middle of it… an old plane.
Or what was left of one.
Its rusted frame sat tilted on its side, nose buried halfway into the dirt, one wing snapped clean off. Vines had already started crawling up its sides, trying to claim it back for the jungle.
My mouth dropped open.
He stepped closer, brushing his hand along the battered metal. "Cargo plane," he said, scanning it quickly. "Old."
"How old?" I asked, keeping a cautious distance.
He shrugged. "Judging by the rust? Years."
I circled around it slowly, heart pounding. "Think there's anything inside?"
He shot me a look. "Only one way to find out."
I hesitated, glancing at the mangled doorframe, half hanging open.
Every horror movie I'd ever seen flashed through my mind.
"You first," I said, crossing my arms.
He smirked. "Scared, sweetheart?"
"No," I lied. "I just figured, you know, chivalry and all that."
Rolling his eyes, he grabbed the edge of the door and hauled himself up, disappearing inside.
For a second, there was nothing but the sound of shifting metal and his muffled footsteps.
Then his voice floated back to me. "You're gonna want to see this."
I chewed my lip, debating my life choices, then cursed under my breath and clambered up after him.
Inside, the air was thick and stale.
Broken crates were scattered everywhere, some smashed open, some still intact. Straps dangled from the walls, swaying gently.
He crouched by one of the crates, prying at it with a rock.
"What is it?" I asked, heart hammering.
With a final grunt, the lid popped loose.
Inside: Cans. Bottles. Plastic packaging.
Food. Water. Supplies.
I let out a strangled laugh, practically falling to my knees. "Oh my god. Oh my god. We're not gonna die."
He grinned at me, triumphant. "Looks like Lady Luck's still got a thing for me."
I grabbed a dusty bottle of water, holding it like it was the Holy Grail. "I could kiss you right now."
He raised an eyebrow, a slow, cocky smile curling his lips. "Careful. I might just collect on that offer."
I rolled my eyes, but my face burned anyway.
Instead, I shoved a can of something unidentifiable into his chest. "Here. Celebrate with this mystery meat."