Lost Paradise (The Savages of the Blue Lagoon)

7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

As I haul myself onto the shore, the taste of salt lingers on my lips, mingling with the adrenaline coursing through my veins. My muscles ache with every movement, my lungs burning for air as if they have forgotten how to breathe anything but seawater.

Glancing over at Zane, relief washes over me as I see him just a little further away, struggling onto the beach beside me. I catch Jack climbing onto the shore and flopping down. Their faces are etched with fear and exhaustion, but they're alive. That's all that matters at this moment.

I collapse onto the sand with exhaustion.

Turning my gaze to the island as my lungs slowly find equilibrium, I'm greeted by a landscape straight out of a postcard. Towering palms sway gently in the breeze, their fronds wavering in the calm wind. The sand beneath my hands is warm and golden, a stark contrast to the icy embrace of the ocean I've just escaped.

But despite the beauty surrounding me, a knot of worry tightens in my chest.

“Jones?” I call out.

“Yeah?” Zane confirms his presence.

“Bancroft?” I shout out louder.

“I’m okay,” Jack grunts.

“Doukas?”

Silence. Only the waves hit the shore, and the sound of the trees move in the wind.

“Doukas!” I shout louder.

Silence.

Fuck.

Yet, as I take a shaky breath, push myself to my feet, and gaze around the shore with a hopeful stare.

No sign of the cocky bastard.

“He was right behind me,” Zane says, and the horrifying image of Eve and Byron going down with the plane hits my head hard.

I already lost two students. The anguish hits the bottom of my stomach.

Fuck and more fuck.

Determination blooms within myself as I suck in a breath. I refuse to let despair consume me. I might be battered and bruised, but we're not defeated. Not yet.

“Doukas!” I shout as I stagger forward. The sand clinging to my soaked clothes, a sense of urgency propels me forward. Scanning the shoreline, I search for any signs of life.

“Astro!” I hear the other two join in behind me. Determined to find the fourth survivor from our plane crash.

“I swear, he was right behind me, cursing his mouth off like he does,” Zane says, and I can hear the hopelessness in his voice.

I glance back at him, the concern and guilt stretched all over him. My heart sinks as I catch his expression, and I know Astro’s nowhere in sight. Observing him, his clothes wet, sandy, and tattered.

We’re stranded on this desolate shore.

I’m not much older than them, but I was given the task of leading them to safety so I need to put my head in the right place and keep pushing forward.

“It’s fine,” I say, grabbing his shoulder with assured confidence. “We’ll find him. Who knows? The arrogant bastard probably saw some tits and arse on some other island and made a detour.”

That gets a light chuckle from both men, and it lightens the mood, all things considered.

“Maybe we should keep searching behind that large sand dune,” Zane says, and I’m glad he’s still not deterred by our current situation.

As soon as we climb over the sand dune, the shore stretches out long and wide, and a glimmer of hope catches my eye. My heart skips a beat as I spot two figures lying motionless in the sand.

Without hesitation, we rush towards them, our steps in the deep, almost white sand quickening with renewed determination.

As we get closer, I notice it’s Eve in the white clothes she had worn earlier, and Byron is lying next to her.

“Fuck! Eve! Byron!” Zane yells as we approach them .

Byron moves as I kneel beside Eve and turn her over. Dread tightens its grip around my chest as I take in her pallid complexion and the telltale blue tinge to her lips.

“I’m okay,” he mumbles, “but I don’t think Eve is. We went deep under with the plane, and I managed to drag her to here, but the waves…” he stops talking.

With trembling hands, I check for a pulse, finding only silence beneath my fingertips.

Everyone remains still and silent in hope.

Thinking the faint pulse might actually be real, I grit my teeth and immediately begin giving her CPR with mouth-to-mouth. The rhythm of compressions drives out the fear and doubt that threaten to consume me. With each breath, I will life back into her still form, willing her heart to beat once more.

But as the seconds stretch into eternity, panic claws at the edges of my mind—she's not responding, her body limp and unyielding beneath my touch. Desperation fuels my efforts as I press on, refusing to accept defeat.

I ignore the protests of the others, their voices a distant murmur as adrenaline floods my veins. Even as despair threatens to overwhelm me, a stubborn determination takes hold—I refuse to let her slip away without a fight.

Come on, girl! Come on, Eve, luv. This isn’t your time.

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. And as 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 genius prodigy.

“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.

“No.”

“Well, then,” I say confidently. “Consider it a sign that you are to continue calling me as you were.”

“Bullshite,” Jack mutters, and I gaze at him crossly.

“You have something on your mind?”

“Yes. You’re not that much older than us.”

“Age isn’t what’s important, and I will oblige you to remember that, Mr. Bancroft. You were assigned as my responsibility.” He shakes his head in disagreement and sniggers.

“If you care to challenge me, Mr. Bancroft. Try it. But you won’t win. You’ll end up with your head hung in shame instead,” I say confidently. Jack might be as big and broad as me, but I possess enough fighting skill to take him down in two seconds flat .

Zane, on the other hand, might prove a challenge, but I’ve studied his competition clips. His instructor included them for his scholarship application. He is talented, for sure, but needs refinement. His moves are predictable.

“I think we’re fine,” Byron interrupts my stare-down with Jack.“I think we’ve established that we’ll refer to you as Sir.”

“I have no problem. Do you want to call me by my first name?” Zane says, “Everyone here does.”

I nod my head at him and look at the others who also agree with him. I glance at Jack, and he gives me a sarcastic grin and nods slightly before pulling backward. My gaze goes to the deep jungle ahead.

Here we are, surviving a plane crash, stranded on some island, and I’m arguing with a student about names.

Fuck.

This isn’t going to be an easy task.

“This isn’t good,” Byron says, and we turn to him, looking flustered. “I feel blind without my glasses. I lost them in the crash.”

“You can’t see?” Zane asks.

“I can, but it’s not very good. It’s mostly blurry,” He snatches Zane’s waving hand from his face. “Stop it, you minging idiot!” he shoves it away. “I’m not blind-blind!”

“Well, I think you’re a good-looking blind man,” Eve says as she lays on the ground.

“She’s probably still delirious,” Jack jokes.

“Where’s Astro?” she suddenly blurts out.

Dammit.

One is missing.

Out of the five students, I lost one. The guilt will consume me eventually.

“Lost,” Zane says before I can say anything. “I’m going to climb that tree and get us some coconuts,” he adds, smartly changing the topic. He goes to run forward, and I pull him back.

“No, you’re damn not! And that’s an order!”

“Hey,”

We all turn to find Jack appearing holding two coconuts with their leaves still intact.

“That’s a sprouted coconut!” Byron exclaims as if anyone is supposed to know what that is other than it’s a coconut. “ Where did you find them?” he goes over and takes one from him and stares at it as if it’s the holy grail.

"Found a bunch of them on the floor, over there,” he points at several by two trees in the distance.

“Coconut jackpot!” Zane says, going over to collect a few more.

“We need to find a way to open them,” I suggest, and Jack produces a pocket knife and his zippo lighter.

I have no idea how he got through security with those.

“Can you produce a magic wand from your pocket and get us out of here?” Eve asks him, and he grins at her but remains silent.

“Nah,” Byron says to the knife, “That won’t crack it open.” He begins to peel the husk, looking around.

“Over there,” I point at the hard rocks by the shore. “It should give you a hard surface to crack it but pierce the eye, which is the weakest spot on the shell.”

“Good idea,” Byron says, running over and smashing it hard against them.

I stroll over to check it out. Byron manages to crack it open, but the water spills out. He takes Jack's knife and carves out the soft sponge part from inside.

“Doesn’t look like a normal coconut. Is that mold?” Zane looks with disgust at the yellow and white textured fluff.”

“No. This stuff is the best part.” Byron replies, bringing it over to Eve and offering it to her. “Some people call it angel cake. I’ve tried it before, and it’s delicious. Here, luv, it’ll dehydrate you.”

We all gather around Eden and watch her break off a piece and stuff it into her mouth.

“Mmmm,” she moans, closing her pretty eyes. “This stuff is truly different. Nothing I can compare it to.”

“Swipe a piece against the coconut oil in the shell. It gets even better,” Byron promises, and we all watch her eat it with enthusiasm and eagerness. “Here,” she breaks off four pieces and gives us each one.

I pop it into my mouth and have to agree with her. It tastes sweeter and crumbles softly in my mouth than regular coconut.

“Does your lighter still work?” I ask Jack.

He flips it, and a small flame emerges.

“Good, we need to find a spot and collect dry items for a fire that should continue to burn, and one of us needs to keep it going as we can’t live on sprouted coconut until we’re rescued,” I command out the tasks. “Zane,” I say, addressing him for the first time with his first name. “Help them out, and after, you’ll come with me. We need to look for fresh water and explore the island; hopefully, this island will be inhabited.”

“How long do you think we’ll be rescued?” Eve asks the million-dollar question.

I brush my hand through my partially dried hair, which feels gritty with sand and sea salt, as I contemplate her question.

Seating myself beside her on the soft sand, I fix my gaze upon the vast expanse of the ocean, observing the boys as they gather materials—husks, dried tree branches, and hefty rocks.

Sighing deeply, I know I have no answer for her.

“I honestly don’t know, Miss. Winters,” I finally admit, a sense of defeat weighing heavily upon me.

Suddenly, a gentle hand rests upon my upper arm, and I turn to find Eve regarding me with concern, her blue eyes shining brighter than before.

“You want to say what’s on your mind?” she asks, her tone gentle yet insistent.

“Nothing you need to worry yourself about.”

Her brow furrows in frustration. “Look, I understand the need to maintain some semblance of authority. But we're all in this together, facing the same circumstances. If we're to survive the next forty-eight hours, we need transparency with your thoughts and not hide shit.”

Her blunt honesty catches me off guard. Despite the gravity of our situation, I can't help but admire her resolve.

“Miss Win—”

“Don’t Miss me anything. I include you in the survival group. Just because you know how to karate chop your way around doesn’t mean you have the survival skills of some well-trained marine corp whose whole life training was for a mission like this. You’re just as badly equipped as we are. Except you’re a natural alpha, and they aren't. Not yet, anyway. You’re prepared to challenge anyone who wants to be the leader, and I know you can lead us out of it if we all work together. So drop the bullshit of keeping us in the dark. You can keep this British formal, stiff upper lip your country has going on as their cultural tradition, but I see you.”

Fuck me.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful woman with a tongue like this. If she weren’t one of my students… .

Well, I can’t bloody go there.

So I slump my shoulders, run my hands through my face towards my temples, and sigh loudly in frustration.

“This is a flipping pig's mess,” I say raggedly.

“It is,” Eve agrees, her tone softening. “I almost died. But I’m here, and you are too. And so are they.”

“Not everyone is here,” I admit with a pang of guilt.

“No, he’s not. Astro’s just missing,” she reassures. “The arrogant dipshit is probably off on some daring adventure challenging Posideon for his throne or something. I bet they’re still dueling it out.”

A faint smile tugs at my lips at her optimism. She's right; dwelling on guilt won't help us survive.

She reaches out and grabs my hand, which takes me aback by her sudden, unexpected comfort.

“You can’t feel guilty about it. Maybe put that feeling away for now because we have an unknown battle of survival in front of us, and you need to step up to the challenge and be their leader. You challenged Jack earlier. I suggest you challenge your guilty conscience because four other lives depend on you not going off into dark depression mode. Save that shit for later.”

"You're right," I acknowledge, squeezing her hand in gratitude. "We need to focus on the present. We'll deal with the rest later."

Eve’s words resonate with a depth that catches me off guard. There's a sincerity in her gaze, a rawness to her honesty that sets her apart from the privileged students I'm accustomed to at the college. At this moment, I see her not as just another student but as someone with resilience and insight beyond her years.

A flicker of attraction stirs within me, but I quickly push it aside. I know better than to entertain such thoughts, especially given our circumstances. Besides, crossing that line would be a breach of trust, a betrayal of the professional boundaries I'm obligated to uphold.

With a shake of my head, I pull my hand away from her and rise to my feet, determination coursing through my veins. There's work to be done, and dwelling on distractions won't help us survive. I stride over to where Zane is.

“We need to get going,” I say, and he nods to join me.

As we set off into the unknown, Eve's words linger in the back of my mind, a reminder of the strength and resilience that binds us together in this fight for survival. And though the temptation may linger, I know that my focus must remain on the task at hand—to lead our group through the challenges ahead, no matter how daunting they may seem.