Lost Paradise (The Savages of the Blue Lagoon)

8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

That last discussion with Mr. Coldwell was pretty heavy. But as I sat here observing him, I realized he was in no better position than us. He feels as if he has to hold us all on his shoulders, but he doesn’t have to.

He’s just as scared as we are. And it’s ok.

My thoughts are interrupted as I catch Jack just standing against a tree trunk, staring directly at me. His cold blue eyes are trying to pierce straight through me. A shiver passes through me, and as much as I find him disturbing, I can’t help but think he is one seriously attractive guy.

“Why do you keep staring at me like that? All the damn time?” I call out to him.

As if my question warrants him to approach me, he strolls over, and I watch him remove his leather jacket, and his black t-shirt does nothing to hide the fit body hiding under all that dark fabric covering him.

Fucking hell, he’s looking as if he wants to devour me.

He crouches down to where I’m resting.

“I could stop if that’s what you prefer,” his deep, profound voice is begging me to spread my legs for him and have his babies.

What the heck?

It has to be my near death experience that’s making me delirious.

Yet, I can’t provide him with any witty reply.

I watch a glint of a smirk work its way up his face because he knows I secretly like him staring at me as if he wants to do all kinds of things to me. He’s creepy as fuck, and for some godforsaken reason, I’m lusting after this gothic weirdo .

My silence is his cue to get up, but he does it in such a way that he locks in my stare and silently promises me that he’ll act out all that I desire one day.

No! Never going to happen.

He lingers momentarily before getting up and walking off, and I lean my head back down on Zane's sweatshirt and sigh heavily, shutting my eyes.

There has got to be something in the air on this island. I felt it with Mr. Coldwell earlier, and now with this dark freak who keeps staring at me.

“Here, I got you some aloe vera,” I hear Byron’s voice, and I open my eyelids to see him hovering over me with some long cactus leaves.

“What?” I say and sit up.

I watch him flip the long stem upside down onto a large, flat green leaf, and we watch a yellow substance ooze out from it.

“Aloe vera is very beneficial for the skin, and it’ll help speed up the healing of that bruise on your forehead,” he says.

I watch him carefully toss that liquid aside.

“That’s not the part you want,” he says, and I ask him why. “It has laxative properties that could mess up your digestive tract if you consume it.”

I giggle, and he looks at me curiously.

“That little bit of info might come in handy one day.”

He grins at me with amusement.

“You’re wicked,” he says, focusing his careful attention on the thick leaf he’s slicing open with Jack’s handy knife.

I watch him flip the knife to the more blunt side and run it over as a slab of clear gel comes off. He takes some of it with his fingers and hesitates.

“You can rub it over your bruise,” he says and waits for my hand.

“Can you put it on me? It’s not like I have a mirror,” I say sheepishly.

He crawls closer, and I close my eyes. He gently pats my forehead with the cool gel. “It’s supposed to have a soothing effect and help with pain, too.”

He’s now inches from my face, and I purposely open my eyes to observe his deep blue eyes and apply the stuff to my skin. Our eyes meet briefly, and there’s a moment when neither of us moves until he breaks our gaze and moves backward.

“Thank you,” I say .

“It’s the least I can do, considering my sight is pretty poor, and I feel useless.”

I sigh at his own frustration.

“Well, I think you’d make a sexy doctor,” I say with amusement, but I know there’s some truth to those words. If I had thought he looked cute before, now, without the glasses, he’d just stepped up several notches.

He narrows his eyes at me.

“You don’t have to keep doing that,” he mutters, gritting his teeth. “It’s very superficial.”

Taken aback by his curt words, I stare at him, momentarily speechless.

“Well, what if I wasn’t lying and I found you attractive? How is that superficial?” I finally say.

He gives me one dismissive look, shoves everything aside, gets up, and storms off.

“Hey!” I say, and I’m not going to let him walk off like that. I go to get up, but it’s too fast, and I feel faint. “Byron? Someone? Help!” I cry out, and I feel the blood drain from my face.

Suddenly, two arms wrap around me, keeping me steady as my legs give way. I grab onto their shoulders and grip hard, scared I might fall as the dizziness begins to fade.

“Got you,” I hear Byron say, and I stare straight up at him. “You alright there?”

“You saved me,” I mumble, totally captivated by his deep blue eyes and plump lips.

He chuckles, and I notice his beautiful smile.

Without hesitation, I lean forward and kiss him, catching his lips with mine, and he returns it as he pulls me against him, and for one brief moment, the world and our problems disappear.

Quickly he releases himself from me and stands back.

“I think you’re fine to stand alone.”

“Do you think I would have allowed you to kiss me back if I weren’t attracted to you?”

Once more, that irritated, disapproving look appears on his face.

“I don’t know Eve. Did you say something similar when you had your moment with Astro?” he mumbles, and before I can reply, Jack interrupts us, needing his knife back.

Byron gives it to him and storms off quickly towards the beach.

This time, I won’t follow him. I made it clear how I feel about him. If he wants to insult me after exposing my feelings to him, then so be it.

As the day draws to a close, I watch the sky transform into a masterpiece of vibrant hues, painting the horizon in shades of gold, crimson, and indigo. The sun sinks lower, and the colors intensify, bathing the world in a warm, ethereal glow. The ocean mirrors the sky, its surface shimmering with the reflection of the setting sun.

A sense of tranquility descends upon the island, and the air is alive with the sound of waves crashing against the shore, a rhythmic lullaby that soothes the soul.

Byron passes me a coconut shell that’s filled with some papaya and other fruit Jack had cut for us. He seems to have calmed down since our earlier incident but barely speaks to me, and I feel sad that he thinks I’m fake.

I guess it comes with the territory of where I come from. But it doesn’t define who I am.

“Have you been able to figure out where we might be?” I ask, taking the bowl from him and helping myself with some fruit.

“I imagine the Indian Ocean, but other than the North Sentinal Island that is far away from here, I don’t think there are that many unexplored islands left in the world. Maybe there are a few exceptions, but within this Ocean, I hardly doubt it.”

Mr. Coldwell and Zane returned earlier from their search. While they didn’t find any sign of civilization, they found a ton of fruit and a freshwater lagoon with a beautifully dark waterfall that seems more like a steamy tropical shower when you stand behind it. And it’s only just a minute's walk from here. I couldn’t resist and dived into the clear blue water wearing my bra and panties as I wasn’t sure whether to undress in front of four other men.

With so much sand and sea dried up in my skin and hair, some clear water really made me feel somewhat human again. I’d like some soap and maybe some deodorant too, but I should be so lucky.

The guys were able to build a fire pit, and with some bamboo-like twigs they collected, they skewered some breadfruit, which tasted more like potatoes than actual fruit. At least our bellies are full, although, with all this fruit and fiber we’re eating, I’m sure we’ll need to sort out some kind of toilet facility.

“We should arrange night watch,” Mr. Coldwell suddenly says, breaking me from my absurd wandering thoughts about toilets and bathrooms.

“Jack and I will remain on watch, switching between us as the evening progresses. Zane and Byron, I’d like you two to sleep on either side of Eve. If anyone needs the loo in the middle of the night, just let Jack or me know, depending on who’s on watch. We should always be in two’s at night until we know more about this island. Tomorrow, we should gather enough rocks to spell SOS in large letters in the most open area on the beach. Maybe a pilot flying over will see it.”

“Eye, Eye, Sir!” I say and salute him, except he doesn’t get my humor and turns to clear up his area.

“Come on, Miss Winters,” Zane says amusingly. “You and I have a bed date tonight.”

I chuckle, “What I wouldn’t give for a mattress and some clean sheets right now.”

I watch him lay out his sweatshirt on the ground, take off his t-shirt, and do the same. I can't help but study his shirtless body, which is broad, well-muscled, and typical of a footballer player’s physique. I stop the groan of longing itching its way up my throat as I pry my eyes away from his bare chest.

Earlier at the lagoon, all four men were in just their tight boxer briefs, and I almost died from the perfect bodies and edible V’s that surrounded me, but I dared not let my gaze linger on them.

“Only for a lady,” Zane says and indicates for me to lie down on his clothes, and I feel a shade of pink burning on my cheeks.

“You couldn’t be more slimy if you tried,” Byron behind me mutters.

“I think he’s lovely,” I say, quickly composing myself from Zane's god-like body and smiling at him, taking the hand he holds out for me. “And for the record, it’s not a superficial comment,” I mutter, making sure Byron hears that last part.

As I lay down, Zane opens out his arm for me.

“You can use me as your pillow if you want.”

I hear Byron snigger behind me.

Accepting Zane’s offer, I snuggle up close to him, welcoming this giant of a man to sleep next to. None of us have any idea where or what’s on this island, and other than the fire next to us, it’s pitch black around us.

“You’re fine with us,” Zane whispers, sensing the shiver up my spine. I tilt my head up to him and give him a brief smile.

I hear Byron rustling next to me as he lies down, but I’m sure he keeps a distance between us. Instead, I snuggle closer to Zane, and he turns to wrap his other arm around my body. Despite the fact that I have to sleep on the ground, I feel comfortable like this.

Safe almost.

My mind drifts to Astro. No one’s seen him, and Zane was sure he was swimming next to him as they raced towards the island. But they were in the water for hours, trying to survive the heavy waves, floating on pieces of debris from the plane. Any one of them could have collapsed from exhaustion. I regret mistreating him. I shouldn’t have looked down on him like some low-life criminal. He didn’t deserve it. We’re not our parents, and we shouldn’t be judged based on what they represent. I, of all people, should have recognized that.

I close my eyes and hear the silence erupt from the crackling fire and the eerie and mysterious sounds coming deep within the forest. From unseen corners, I can hear a cacophony of chirps and croaks filling the air. The high-pitched trill of insects blends with the deep, guttural calls of unseen frogs, creating a symphony of natural rhythms that pulse through the night. The flames from the fire spitting into the air, adding to the noise of the enigmatic night.

From the short distance, the soothing waves lapping against the shore like a soothing lullaby, and the rustling of the palms above us swaying in the gentle breeze. My senses and fears slowly dissipate into the abyss as I feel myself weightless, drifting into a deeply needed slumber.

“Wake up, darling.”

My eyes flutter open as Zane urges me to wake up. Hearing the others whispering around me, I jolt up.

Byron pulls me up as he and Zane sandwich me between them protectively.

“What’s going on?” I ask softly, watching Mr. Coldwell and Jack eying the dark jungle .

“Somethings going on in there,” Byron says behind me.

Jack grabs one of the several torches the guys made earlier with bamboo shoots, dried coconut husks and jute. He lights one and passes it to Zane, another two to Jack and me.

“Swing it at whatever comes your way,” Zane says, but the way he’s protectively huddled me in, I doubt I’ll get that chance.

Glancing around us, the darkness of the jungle envelops us like a suffocating shroud, our makeshift torches flickering weakly against the impenetrable gloom. Fear coils in the pit of my stomach, tightening its grip with each passing moment as we wait in tense anticipation for whatever lurks in the shadows to reveal itself.

I clutch my torch tightly, the rough back of the branch digging into my palm, its feeble flame offering little comfort against the unknown terrors that lie in wait. Beside me, Jack grips his knife with white-knuckled intensity, his jaw set in a grim line of determination.

The night is alive with the sounds of the jungle, chirping insects, and rustling leaves that seem to taunt us with their hidden secrets. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush sends a shiver down my spine, my senses heightened to the point of overload.

And then, suddenly, it's there—a faint rustling in the darkness, a whisper of movement that sets my heart pounding in my chest. I strain my eyes against the inky blackness, searching desperately for any sign of the source of our fear.

A chill slides down my spine as I realize we are not alone in this jungle, not by a long shot. A primal scream tears itself from my throat as I watch Jack lunge forward, his knife flashing in the dim light of our torches as he prepares to meet the creature head-on.

Mr. Coldwell swings over and grabs Jack before he can lose himself in the darkness.

“Not yet,” he yells at him.

Suddenly, this threatening darkness is interrupted by a thunderous laughter, and the body emerges, and the blood suddenly drains from my head.

“What the bloody hell?” I hear Byron say, and I step forward because I can hardly believe what I see.