Dark Island Book 1 (Complete)

Chapter 16

"Hey, do you need any help?” Asked Harold as he pulled at the heavy log embedded in the forest floor.
“Nope. I can carry my own weight.” I tried to hide the quiver in my voice but I didn’t quite manage. No way did I want to be labeled as 'helpless'! Harold let go of the log and called over to Ronnie. “Hey, one more thing. Don’t forget we need a fire if you plan on eating. So if you don’t help, Jack and I will be eating hot, grilled fish. And you-“He paused and then continued. “ I really hope you love sushi.”
“Gross, man!” I gave him a weak smile, thankful for the diversion. Harold always knew how to distract someone’s worried thoughts. I turned my head and caught Ronnie’s smirk.
“Cold, raw fish?” he asked. “Is that supposed to scare me? You know there’s nothing I won’t try once.” He walked toward the beach with a load of wood.
“Wait...I’m coming! My arms are about to fall off.” I ducked under the tangle of vines and made my way out of the jungle.
“Hey, looks like we’re further down the beach,” said Ronnie.
I nodded.” Yeah, that explains why we didn’t hear the river when we first got here. Well, that along with all those loud, chirping birds and noisy insects.”
As Ronnie staggered ahead, his footsteps started to give off light- lots of it.
“Whoa! Ronnie look at the sand.”
He smiled. “Didn’t we discuss this already?”
“Time to discuss it again. Your footsteps are lighting up. Check it out.”
“Whoa! Has to be from the sun really beating down on all those mica crystals.” I squinted and set down my load.
“Yeah, but how does it give off light- like that?”
“You’re right. Something’s up,” said Ronnie, kicking the sand around with his shoe. Harold appeared beside me, carrying a log, heavy log. “Like a said before, it’s plain old sand mixed with tons of mica.”
“Good old mica, huh?” Ronnie threw up handfuls of white, sparkling stuff. I covered my head as the sand rained down on me. “Did you guys see that glare?” Ronnie shook Harold’s shoulder.
“Is this all crazy or what?” He hesitated. “That’s... Wow! Do it again.”
I brushed my clothes off. I grabbed two fistfuls of sand and threw them toward the ocean.
“Check it out!” said Ronnie. “Are we still going with that mica theory?”
A barrage of shimmering particles flee through the air, reminding me of a bright, white flash in a fireworks display. “No way is that plain old sand. That’s paranormal sand of the freaky kind,” I said. Harold threw his log down on the rest of the pile and then wiped the bark and debris from his hands on his shorts. He dropped to his knees, swirling his hands around. “The sand’s hotter now. It’s like the heat from the sun is somehow activating the mineral compounds. They’re glittering like crazy, even lighting up when stirred.” He picked up a nearby stick and scribbled his name in the sand. To my surprise, the grains of sand twinkled. “I’ve travelled around the world and I’ve never seen anything like this.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Let me try.”
Harold tossed me the stick and I wrote, 'Jack was here' sure enough the words started to glisten.
“It’s glittering like some sort of neon billboard.” Said Harold 
I leaned closer to the scratched letters. “Yeah, it... It is like an electric sign. I cannot believe what I’m seeing. What’s going on?”
“I haven’t got a clue.” Ronnie plopped himself right down in the freaky sand, as if he was back home on his hammock, reading. Harold’s eyes widened his tone urgent, as he took the words right out of my mouth. “Are you crazy? Get up. We don’t know anything about this sand, and you’re lying in it!”
Undeterred, Ronnie stretched out his arms and legs and flapped them back and forth.
“Harold’s right.” I nudged his leg with my foot. “Stop rolling around in that stuff!”
“We were lying in this stuff after we swam to shore.” Ronnie raised a hand to shield his eyes.
“Listen, the damage is done. If we were going to turn into zombies or sprout some kind of superpowers, it would have already happened. As far as I know, I don’t have X-ray vision,” he said with a smirk. Ronnie scrambled up and took a step back from his creation. The sand angel sparkled as if it were sprinkled with thousands of tiny diamonds. A moment later, the sand particles began to sparkle and shimmer, slowly at first, but then very quickly, until it reminded me of an animated logo. He dropped to his knees, his mouth gaping wide.
“Now... that’s a sand angel!”
“Wow,” I whispered in shock. I couldn’t stop from staring.
Ronnie tapped my shoulder.
“Hey, you’ve got to paint this when we get back home.”
“Yeah, man. It’s on my list with all the other freaky stuff.” I bent closer to examine it. The particles were as fine as dust as they scattered through my fingers. I’d never seen anything like it; but then again, the entire island and it’s stuff on it seemed like something my mind could have conjured up. I glanced over for Harold’s reaction, but he looked away.
“How does it do that?” Ronnie kept shaking his head, his voice filled with awe.
“I just...I don’t know,” said Harold. Harold seemed a little freaked out by it, but I knew exactly how to divert his attention: we had to focus on how to use this stuff to our advantage, rather than dwelling on all the weirdness. “Hey, guys, why don’t we write a humongous SOS or something?” I asked. A smile lit up Harold’s stern face.
“Oh, wow! That’s a great idea. We’re bound to get someone’s attention.” I picked up a long stick and traced giant letters in the sand. I could only hope the SOS message was big enough for a helicopter to see from the air, if anyone even bothered flying in that direction. I pushed the thought to the back of my mind, together with nightfall and giant man-eating spiders. I swallowed and forced a smile.
“Guys, I’m going to make it bigger- way bigger. Why don’t you two dig some holes for the fires? We can’t waste precious time.”
Gazing out across the sea, Ronnie picked up a palm-sized flat rock and threw it. It skipped ten times along the glossy surface. He pumped his fist in the air. Oh, yeah!”
It was only morning and the sun had scorched my skin already. What would we do come midday? A trace of irritation rose up inside me at Ronnie’s childish behavior. Harold, on the other hand, seemed able to focus. Why couldn’t he?
“Ronnie, what’s wrong with you? Don’t you want to be rescued? Cause it kind of seems like you don’t.”
Harold nodded. “Yeah. Stop screwing around, man. We need your help here.”
“Okay, I’m coming.” Ronnie dropped his handful of rocks and dusted off his shirt and shorts. It was a good thing he was getting the message, because skipping stones wasn’t going to get us off the island. I raised my voice slightly to get my point across. “We’ve got one chance is a plane flies by. That’s it...just one chance.”
Ronnie sauntered over and picked up a few pieces of driftwood. “Point taken.” He said.
Ronnie fell to his knees and threw a pile of sand over his shoulder.
“I got the last hole for the fire pit.”
A soft, cool breeze blew over my face. It felt wonderful against my hot skin, but I hoped it wasn’t too windy for them to get an spark.” So, what’s the best way to get these fires blazing?”
Harold shrugged. “The old-fashioned way, I guess-rubbing sticks together.”
I grinned at him. “Great! So we should have fire by sometime tomorrow.”
“I know a bunch of different ways. It’s primitive, but eventually we’ll get a spark.”