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With a violent retch, she convulses beneath me, spewing forth a rush of seawater and bile. Relief floods through me as I watch her chest rise and fall, her body finally responding to the life-giving breaths I've been coaxing into her lungs.
All three men flop down onto the warm sand with relief.
“Fuckin’ell, Eve!” I hear Jack say.
“Girl, you had us all damn worried,” Zane says, his tone filled with relief.
She looks at us deliriously, and I spot the massive reddening bump on her forehead.
Fuck. This isn't good.
“I’m not feeling too well,” she says faintly and pails again as if she’s going to collapse once more.
Scooping her up in my arms, I carry her across the sand, seeking shelter beneath the shade of nearby trees that are at the edge of the jungle. Her breathing is still shallow and ragged, but she’s alive. Andas I lay her down gently amidst the cool embrace of the foliage, I vow to watch over her, to protect her with every ounce of strength I have.
A sudden possessive force overwhelms me. She’s not just a student; she’s mine. I have no idea in what capacity, knowing I’m delving into dangerous waters, but as I watch over her, the weight of responsibility settling heavy on my shoulders, I know that I'll do whatever it takes to ensure that she—and all of us—make it through this ordeal alive.
“Here,” Zane takes off his sweatshirt and rolls it up. “It’s a little damp. Mostly dry, but it will help keep your head slightly elevated.”
“Good thinking,” I say, pulling her up slightly as he tucks it beneath her. “That nasty bump on your head is probably what’s making you dizzy. You might have a concussion. Harding, Bancroft,” I look towards Byron and Jack. “I’m assigning you two to keep watch of Miss. Winters, make sure she rests but does not fall asleep.”
We're stranded, marooned on this remote island with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Survival suddenly feels like a daunting task, an uphill battle against the elements and the unknown.
“Jones and I will need to look for fresh drinking water,” I say, taking charge of the situation.
“We could use coconut water too,” Byron says, and we look upwards.
Standing tall against the backdrop of the azure sky, the coconut trees reach towards the heavens. Their slender trunks, weathered and textured, rise from the sandy soil like sentinels guarding the secrets of this island.
Clusters of coconuts hang from the branches like precious jewels. Some are green and unripe, while others have ripened to a rich golden hue.
“Yeah, but how are we supposed to get them down?” Zane asks.
“Climb up,” Byron says. “I’ve seen people harvesting them on the beaches in the Philippines.
I glance at Byron, having read all five student files. He finished school three years early, but the institute wouldn’t take him so young, and he spent two years traveling prior to joining the college last year. He’s what some might call gifted, yet all I’ve ever seen him do is have his nose in books and write stuff in a notebook. I think his intellectual ability comes more from his willingness to study subjects than being a geniusprodigy.
“The last thing we need is for someone to break their neck,” I comment, feeling the stress and heat beginning to weigh me down.
“But Mr. Coldwell, I think I can climb up that tree, “ Zane seems determined.
“Sir,” Jack interjects, and we all turn to the unusually silent, dark one.
Jack Bancroft's file was less than two pages long, and one of them was just his application to the college, while the other one listed his grades and subjects from his last year. As a second-year student, his file has an air of mystery. But I know the Bancroft name. They’re aristocratic landowners from Surrey. But this all-black, leather-wearing, tattooed skin big guy looks more like he hails from Lestat de Lioncourt vampire lineage than one of human.
His clothes and hair don’t even remotely look disheveled.
How is that remotely possible?
How the fuck does a leather jacket even survive seawater?
“Yes, Mr. Bancroft?” I reply, knowing we need to start making camp and maybe look to see what island we’re on and if there is any sign of civilization here.
“Don’t you think it’s time to drop the formalities?” Jack looks at me with a serious grin.
Technically, yes, but then that would make me equal to them, and if I’m going to maintain order among them until we are rescued, I’m going to ensure they address me by title. They need a peer and I need to step up my game if I’m going to get them to safety alive.
“Do you know my first name?” I ask curiously.
