The Lost Ones

Chapter 4

The next morning Kit awoke to a surprise. Skye wasn't in the cave, but she had left behind a flat piece of wood with grilled scallops on top. When he sat up to eat his breakfast, he found that his injured ankle was neatly and tightly wrapped with what looked like the sleeve of the grey hoodie he had lent to her. Maybe she isn't as bad as I thought.

After eating, he made his way outside where the blinding sun rays beat down on his light skin, and the sea, which had returned to its restless, forceful state, remorselessly smashed against the shore.

"There you are, sleepyhead!" called a voice.

Kit spotted Skye sitting on a low branch of a tree, reaching for a star-shaped fruit and tossing it into a small basket made of thick leaves.

"I was starting to think I was going to be the only useful one around here," Skye said. "Why don't you check the fishing net? It's right over there."

Kit walked in the direction she was nodding her chin towards. Amazed at everything he was seeing, he asked, "Did you make all of this? That basket, this net, the scallops..."

"No, I think God made them," Skye answered. She seemed to be enjoying herself. Although she kept her gaze on the star-shaped fruit, Kit could see the smug look on her face.

He drew in the fishing net, tightening his grip when he saw that a small fish had managed to imprison itself within the grasp of the vine trap. "Did they teach you survival skills in school or something?" he questioned.

"Private schools don't teach you shit. Only that pop culture poisons your mind and that touching the opposite gender is even worse." Skye kept an eye on Kit as he dragged the fishing net over to her. "I had to research how to do all of this stuff myself. Hey, make sure that end of the net doesn't—"

Suddenly, the fish slipped loose of the trap and quickly flopped back into the water. Kit peered down at his hands, realizing he was holding the wrong end. Frowning, he lowered his arms and the empty net.

"Sorry about that," he apologized when Skye jumped down from the branch. She examined her basket filled with abundant fruits, a look of self-satisfaction on her face, before proceeding over to Kit.

"It's whatever. Shit happens, right?" she responded with an odd nonchalance. "At least we have other sources of food. Good thing I prepared myself beforehand."

Kit stared at Skye as she casted the net back into the water. Prepare? "What do you mean you prepared yourself?" he asked. "You knew this would happen?"

The girl shrugged. She was still wearing his grey hoodie, but her shoulders were exposed. She had removed both sleeves, using one as a bandage for Kit's ankle. He wasn't sure where the second sleeve was.

"I didn't know running away would look like this," Skye told him. "So, I prepared for anything. Everything." She walked back towards the basket of fruit.

Kit followed. "You ran away?" he asked, shocked. "So that's why you were on the cruise. You were running away from home."

"What's with that tone of accusation?"

"What about your parents? Aren't you worried about them?"

"They're the reason I ran away, you idiot. I couldn't care less about them. If they can't sleep at night because they can't find me, I don't care. If they've contacted the FBI to find me, fine by me. It's not like they'll find me out here—wherever here is."