Island Of Lust

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I wake with a groan. My back is sore as hell. Kayla is smooshed up against me, Rory and Gigi are to the left and right. I didn't want to be out on a plane with the town's snobbiest females, much less dog piled with them sleeping on a beach.

We'd been stranded, making it out with our luggage and a first aid kit. Our pilot died with the plane. We'd spent last night on the beach. If someone was coming for us, it'd be easier to see us.

The eight of us had been on our way to some 'young ladies retreat'. Whatever the hell that is, my mom had sent me on it. Something about it being a rite of passage. Look where it got me, nineteen and stranded. I sit up, dusting my shoulders off.

"Huh?" Kayla says, sitting up quickly.

"Good morning sunshine." I say, amused.

"Oh, good morning." Kayla says, giving a little yawn.

The twins wake up. Which, I'm not sure is a good thing. I'm happy they survived. I could've stood a few hours without their incessant whining. They're two tall, ebony girls with bouncy curls and blue eyes like water. When I'd first met them, I'd been in awe, but it was quickly lost. They're big complainers. Kayla seems to have gone into a quiet state of shock. She's a whiteish Blond haired, Blue eyed Barbie herself. A paler, shorter, version of the twins.

There's a girl, from El Paso. Her name's Erica, I remember because she looks a lot like katniss Everdeen with her Long Brown hair braided down her back. Then there's Tara, Black haired Diva, who'd been the first to introduce herself, and bring awareness to her father's successful company. Then there's Aria, a Latina girl from LA. She's relaxed, pretty nice for an LA girl. Last, but not least is a Flamboyant girl with Red hair and freckles names Jess. She'd expressed, through her drunken haze, that as long as there was alcohol she was all for the trip.

Money can buy beauty. Feasible beauty, anyway.

"I'm going to go back to the plane. Maybe we missed something, a flare gun, a radio, anything." I say.

"I'll come with you." Kayla says.

We set off, leaving the twins to obsess over their hair. The plane is a mess, and still hot. Other than some of our luggage that was overhead, most of the stuff is burned. After a while, we give up trying not to get burned while we sift through everything. Kayla and I head back and distribute the carry-ons we'd found. Everyone is awake now, and the panic frenzy from last night is back. But the small but if belongings we restore some peace.

I flick open my pocket knife, and start sharpening a long stick I find. I'm not good with this stuff. I need to use my hands, and let my mind wander. I sit beneath a tree, and sharpen into the afternoon. By early evening, I'm feeling sick. I don't say anything to the small bunch of frenzied females, I merely slip off into the surrounding jungle. I use my sharpened stick to poke around.

I remember the pilot saying something. One of those stupid reminders, like where the safety exit is. I see the Red box, and my spirits lift. It's what he was talking about! His own personal 'survival kit'. He said he'd gotten stranded once, and rambled on with this whole story.

Personally, I'd thought it was fake. The red Chest is in the back of the plane's small cockpit. It's two feet wide, and
Four feet across, standing at maybe a foot and a half tall . I open the box, and find more proof than I need.

Inside are matches and lighters. They're all branded by convienence stores. It's like every time he stopped in one, he bought one and threw it in a smaller metal case. The case is water proof, smart. Next is a big pot, two machetes. I examine them, they're made well, like my knife. He's also included two insulated blankets, a mosquito net, bit of which are suctioned flat into a bag to conserve space. A flare gun, six flares, and 14 dried packs of meat. There's also a radio, it's small and old.

I pull the box back. It's incredibly heavy, but it's worth it.

"What's that?" Kayla asks.

"A survival kit." I say.

I show the others, and they look at everything. It shouldn't surprise me when they see no value in most of it. I don't waste any time, taking the machetes and cutting down large branches. I dig holes in the ground, using the branches as posts I place the netting over the posts, creating a enclosure that would keep us away from mosquitoes. I sit back, watching as the sun fades. I'm exhausted, from the sun exposure and building. I decide to make a fire. I dig a pit, and find some wood. Once the fire's going, I hike to the small pond and boil some water.

Once my thirst is quenched, I feel somewhat better.

"You're good at this." Kayla says.

"Me? Nah." I say.

"You're not like us, I can tell. We all can." She says.

"Maybe not." I shrug.

"That's a good thing, I'm glad you found the box, and boiled water. I didn't realize crying so much would dehydrate me so fast. I was so stupid..." She says.

"It's okay. You're scared, we all are. We just have to hang in there." I say.

Kayla nods solemnly. There's a scuffle, and we look to see Tara and Erica are rolling around fighting.

"What's going on?" Kayla asks.

"Tara wants a blanket all to herself." Rory squeaks.

"Who does she think she is, frickin Diana?" Jess says.

I go over to them, and pull them apart. Their small catfight is pathetic.

"Stop it, this isn't helping." I say.

"Tell her to stop being such a bitch!" Erica hisses.

"It's mine!" Tara says.

"Tara, it's not yours. It's ours. Without you we could sleep three to a blanket very comfortably, so I'd tread lightly." I say.

"She's right, it'd work out perfectly." Jess says.

"You wouldn't! You can't!" Tara says.

"Can't we?" I ask.

"Do you know who I am?" Tara says, pushing my chest.

I grab her by the hair, and sling her to the ground. She rolls, coming to a sand covered stop. Silence has fallen over us all. I stoop above her, and she cowers away.

"My moral compass is very much intact. So if you think I won't throw you to the wolves to save the rest of us, think again." I say.

"Yeah, you're either with us or against us." Kayla says beside me.

"I... I... Shouldn't be treated this way! I'll sue you! I'll sue all of you!" Tara says.

"How? We're out in the frickin' woods Tara!" Eric's shouts.

"There are no royals on this island. Get over it, or take a hike." I say.

Tears roll down Tara cheeks, and she sniffles. I step back, and put a hand out. There's a pause, everyone holds their breaths. Tara takes my hand, and I pull her to her feet with ease.

"Let's eat." I say.

**