In 500... (or less)

A Grifter in the Drifters

As the boat rose from each successive crest of a wave, nothing but blue sea greeted the poor wretches in the lifeboat.

The three remaining men sat lifeless. The sun had baked any moisture from their body, their tongues were swollen and dry. They spoke only when necessary.

"It's been three weeks," said Towson, checking the scrawls he made on the inside of the boat to serve as a makeshift calendar. "It's time."

"Already?" Owens croaked. "Count them again."

He leaned closer to Towson, watching his fingers tap on each mark.

"I'm not hungry," Owens protested. "I don't see why we have to go through with this."

"Custom of the sea," Reeves interjected, his tongue cracking in pain.

The men had been adrift for more than three months, but this was the first time they had to resort to killing one of the survivors for sustenance. The sun had taken some. More through hunger or lack of water. One was driven mad and died after swallowing copious amounts of seawater.

Towson reached toward his waist, groping for the handle of his knife sticking from his belt.

"Now wait a minute," Owens said. "We should draw them again."

"You lost before," Towson replied. "You were only saved because poor Yates was already dead. Now your time is up, just like we all agreed."

He remembered the conversation among the desperate men. Owens now greatly regretted agreeing to the plan. He had to think quickly.

"The sextant," he said. "Give me until noon to take a sighting. I'm the only one who knows how it works. Don't you want to know where we are?"

"I know where we are," Reeves groaned. "Thirty leagues on the wrong side of hell."

"Let him take the sighting," Towson said. "Besides, I'm not much on breakfast anyhow."

The reprieve wasn't long. Owens used the time to formulate a plan.

"Good news!" he said, summoning his most cheerful voice as he lowered the instrument from his eye. "Judging by our position, we should reach land just after nightfall."

"You're lying." Reeves wasn't fooled by Owens' ruse, but Towson seemed intrigued.

"I promise you," Owens said, clearing his throat to avoid the others seeing his visible gulp. "Leave me alive until the morning tomorrow, and I will guide you to land."

"What's another day?" Reeves asked, finally relenting after a short debate. "But I'll kill you double tomorrow if you're fleecing us."

Owens kept a watchful eye throughout the day and night, hoping for any sign of land. Sure enough, just as daybreak was upon them, he saw a dark silhouette on the horizon.

"Land!" he hollered. The men rowed furiously for the island, putting in on a narrow beach, hemmed in by a massive cliff.

"Climb the bluff and find us water," Towson ordered Owens.

At the top, there was nothing but desert as far as the eye could see.

"Come on up," Owens said, gauging his ability to run from his fellow castaways. "We're saved!"