Part 24: Reach

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Last night was cold.

Horribly cold.

Despite having my dry hoodie, pants and everything else- I still felt like my body was put into the freezer.

Cassian used the solar blanket and I know it didn't help at all.

This morning, sitting under the raft, contemplating everything under the sun, I find Cassian just staring at the sand in front of him. He seems lost.

More lost than myself.

"We should discuss what we want to do." I say.

"What is there to do? Create a beach volleyball team with the insects?" He sarcastically asks, but still stares at the spot in front of him- without blinking.

"I mean about supplies. If we eat all the cans of food- we won't last long."

"So what? Starve?"

"No. We ration. One can every two days- we split the can between us. Try and fish on our off days and eat coconuts." His skeptical gaze tells me that my plan isn't what he wants to do.

Irrational thoughts cause chaos and panic.

That's exactly what's going to happen when we run out of supplies.

"Do you even know how to fish?"

"Yes—actually. I do. My grandfather used to take me. Sure it's been a few years, but it's like riding a bike- isn't it?" I say and he rolls his eyes.

"And what about water? I doubt it's gonna rain any time soon."

"We'll gather wood- boil water until the salt is gone and catch rain water when it happens."

"And how long do you think we can keep this up? How long do you see us actually staying alive without anyone knowing we're lost?" Not long.

Especially if our health begins to decline.

Cassian still seems rather pale.

The holes in his neck from the centipede look bad.

The stings have started to rash.

And his head has yet to be cleaned properly.

In could conditions, we could take care of at least two of the three problems.

But these aren't good conditions.

We're limited.

"As long as we can keep our heads above water—I think we have a good chance."

"I hate your optimism." He scowls and lays back in the sand- slightly scratching at a sting. "But we have nothing more to lose. So I guess we'll try it."

I'm surprised by his response.

He's actually agreeing to try and work with me.

"So what's our first move?" He asks.

" I want to drag that palm out of the grove and start getting firewood. The nights are too cold and smoke will at least signal someone by chance."

"And the insects? I don't feel like getting stung again."

I look around and think about a solution.

"If we take a few of those bigger sticks and put my socks on them- we can light them on fire and use the smoke to keep them away."

"But then you don't have sock."

"Well- you don't have socks- so we can at least suffer together." He looks at me and then at the grove.

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