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Rated: E · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #2071359
Ray and his bride, Tasha, find themselves marooned on a not so enchanting island.
The storm surged out of nowhere. Wind slapped the catamaran, and waves threatened to capsize it. Ray rolled in the mainsail while his bride, Tasha, worked the jib.

He peered through the wall of warm rain, trying to see where the rocks were, but salt stung his eyes, and the boat tossed too hard.

"Radio for help!" he yelled through the howling wind.

"Get inside!" Tasha shouted back.





He blinked, and the sun blinded him. A pounding ache tortured his head. Grunting, he pushed himself to a sitting position. Tasha, where was Tasha?

The light reflected off the white sand like a mirror. Coughing, he struggled to his feet. Storm litter covered the beach, including smashed boat parts. A palm frond splayed across Tasha's chest.

He ran toward her. "Tasha! Are you okay?"

No. She couldn't be…He fell to his knees beside her body and pulled a lock of sun-streaked hair from her cheeks. She grunted and coughed. She was alive!

"Sweetheart, are you all right?"

She batted her eyes, trying to focus on him. He held his breath, and she squeezed his hand. She was going to be okay.

"Water," she croaked.

He looked around desperately. Something glinted in the sand.

"I'll be right back." He gently helped her sit up and ran down the beach, kicking off his remaining boat shoe.

It was a can of beer.

"Here." He pulled the ring tab.

"Thanks."

Tasha smiled that beautiful smile that always sent him to his knees. In all his life, he had never met anyone so honest, so kind, so gentle, so loving,… He could go on forever singing her praises, and the girl married him.

"You're my hero." She reached up and caressed his cheek. "How could I survive without you?"

She hadn't meant it literally, but he stared at a huge chunk of his boat's hull and swallowed. The first thing they needed to do was find water.

"Can you walk?" He held his hand out for her.

Standing, she wiped sand off her slender tanned legs. The most gorgeous legs he had ever seen. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

"With you, handsome, I can do anything."

He glanced at her feet. She, at least, had kept her topsiders.

He was thirsty too. "We need to find water."

She ran her fingers through her long blonde hair, scanning the beach. "Maybe we should check to see if there is anything else worth salvaging."

He had forgotten to add smart to his list. "Good idea."

Within minutes, they found two beach towels and a small pot with a handle.

"Looks like we're rich." She smiled up at him.

He bent over and kissed her, and his body sparked. No one had ever been able to make him feel the way she did.

"Listen, lover-boy, I think we better find that water."

Did he say, and self-disciplined too?

"Yes, ma'am."

He grinned and took her hand, leading her into the trees. The bundle holding the pot and empty beer can hung over his shoulder.





“Ouch!”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

He pulled a nasty thorn out of the sole of his foot. With each step he took, his feet hurt a bit more. They were bleeding from stepping on jagged rocks and gnarled tree roots, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was taking care of Tasha.

"Ray?"

"Yes?"

"Something feels wrong." She squeezed his hand.

He felt it too, but he didn't want to scare her. "Don't worry. All we need to do is find water."

She didn't say anything else. He knew she was thirsty. She had to be. Even in the shade, it was scorching hot. Still, she didn't ask for anything to drink. They had only found the one can. He had given her most of it, only taking a sip.

"Listen." She stopped and cocked her head.

Colored birds twittered. That surely meant that there was water somewhere.

"Do you hear it?"

"The birds?"

"No. There's a waterfall up ahead."

He heard it too. "Did I ever tell you that you're the best thing that ever happened to me?"

Her blue eyes sparkled. "Every day, husband." She stepped on her tiptoes and kissed him. "And, don't you forget it." She flicked the tip of his nose.

He bent down to kiss her, but she twisted away and marched off toward the falls, her hips swinging in the cutest sort of way.

Just before they arrived, she stopped short. "Do you feel it?"

A shiver of unease shimmied up his leg. He swallowed and peered around them. It looked like a tropical paradise – the perfect place to take his bride for their honeymoon – except that they were marooned. Yet something eerie floated on the torrid breeze.

"It looks like paradise to me," he said.

"No. Something's wrong."

The breeze picked up, shaking the ferns. It whistled through the trees.

"It sounds like a voice," she said. "Do you hear it?"

He had to admit it. It did sound like a voice.

His shoulder muscles tensed.

"Can you hear what she's saying?" She. It sounded like a she, he thought.

"It sounds like…Beware…Beware the wisps." Tasha stared at him, the whites of her eyes big.

He had never seen her frightened in all the five years they had been together. His heart slid down to his stomach. She was his rock. She couldn't lose it.

"It's just the wind," he said, but he had heard it too.

He was her husband. It was his job to protect her.

"Wait here, I'll go first."

She gaped at him. "Are you out of your mind? You're not leaving me."

He grinned. He didn't intend to ever leave her.

Holding her hand, his grin slipped away, and he stepped through the foliage, toward the tinkling cascade. With each step he took, his apprehension grew.

Finally, they stood next to the pool at the foot of the waterfall. It was the most inviting place he had ever been.

She reached inside the bundle and pulled out the pot.

"I'm so thirsty." She dipped it in the water and tipped it. "Good."

She passed it to him. It was the sweetest water he had ever tasted.

His fear faded. "Want to swim?"

"Skinny dip?"

He couldn't take his t-shirt and shorts off fast enough. He dove in and then watched her.

Tasha had the body of a Greek goddess, and she was the most beautiful when naked. She raised her arms and slowly slipped into the cool water.

He kicked through the water and grabbed her. She giggled, and they kissed and drank until exhausted.

"I think I could use one of those towels now." She swam toward the bank.

Above, the sunlight began to fade.

"We need to find a place to sleep," she said.

He looked around. They didn't have anything to make a fire. At least, it wasn't cold.

"Look." She pointed above the cascade to the right. "Is that a cave?"

She didn't wait for his answer and started climbing up the rock face.

His feet weren't bleeding anymore since they went swimming, but they were still tender. He followed behind her, feeling guilty. He should be the leader.

After making love on the floor of the cave, he wrapped his arm over her back. He loved when she cuddled close to him. Sleep was falling on him when he heard it again.

"Beware the wisps." The breezy voice warned.

Tasha's breaths came and went peacefully, but he stared out toward the sky. He needed to find out who was trying to scare them.

Gently slipping away from Tasha's warmth, he headed for the pool. He climbed down and sat on a boulder near the water's edge.

Wisps of white mist swirled up from the surface. First one, then an army of curling snakes floated up. He didn't know whether to investigate further or retreat to make sure that Tasha was okay. Before he could decide, a floating ribbon swam through the air toward him. He opened his mouth to scream, and the wisp dove inside. He swallowed, his heart galloping.

Wisp after slithering wisp emerged from the water and crowded the air with white mist, shooting in all directions like pallid fireworks. Then they stopped. They all disappeared at once.

Ray gaped around him, bewildered. What had just happened?

After a minute, his pulse lowered to normal, and he could breathe regularly again. Exhaling. He rose and headed back to the cave.

He needed to check whether Tasha was okay. If she wasn't, he would be the first to know.

Climbing back up, he stepped on a sharp rock. "Crap."

If she hadn't been in such a hurry to get married, they wouldn't have been caught in that fricking storm.

She lay on the towel, snoring. She snored like a diesel engine, noisy and stinky. Saliva drooled from her mouth like a fricking dog. He wrinkled his nose. How had he ever found her attractive?

He pushed her with his foot. "Wake up."

She looked at him and snarled. "Don't tell me what to do."

"Get up. We need to get to the beach." Stupid blonde. "We need to be there in case someone comes."

"No one is coming at night. What kind of idiot are you?" She rolled over ignoring him.

He wanted to slap her, but she was right. If he walked through those woods, he would probably cut his feet even worse. He glanced at her shoes. She had probably hidden his. It would be just like her.

Translucent hissing white snakes speared his sleep. Again and again, he woke sweating, only to fall asleep again.

Cold water splashed his face, runneling down his throat. He choked and blinked up at Tasha.

She stood there with the pot in her hand. Snarling at him. "Why are you still asleep? I thought you were in a hurry to leave."

He jumped to his feet. "Get out of my way."

He would show her. The selfish brat could rot in the cave if she couldn't keep up with him. He leapt across the boulders, three at a time. All of a sudden, a spearing pain pierced his foot, and he fell to a sitting position.

Tasha fleeted by. "Ta, ta."

She waved, and he shot her a bird. Swallowing his pain, he stood and hop-walked down to the water's edge. To his surprise, she was waiting for him.

"I know you and your lawyer ways." She held her hand out for him. "I'm not giving you anything to use against me in a court of law. Let it be known that I waited for your stupid self when I could have already made it to the beach."

He slapped her hand aside. No way would he give her the pleasure of being the stronger one.

She marched ahead of him singing. If she weren't so far ahead, he would smack her. She knew he hated that song.

The ugly wench swung her skinny butt as if she actually thought he could find it attractive. Really.

She pushed a branch out of the way and let it go, timing it so that it would slap him in the face. "What's wrong, creep, your feet hurt? You shouldn't be such a slob. If you hadn't lost your shoes, you wouldn't be hobbling like an old man."

His face burned, and he tried to catch up so that he could yank her hair, but the wench was too fast. He looked down at his foot. It was swollen. She could have waited long enough for him to wash it before running off into the woods, but no, she didn't fricking care about him. The first thing he was going to do when they got home was annul the marriage. That way, he could forget that he ever saw her.

He could barely walk anymore by the time they reached the beach.

She lifted the beer can, apparently filled with water, in a cheer. "This is your side of the beach."

After strutting halfway across the beach, she drew a line in the sand with her foot. "Stay on your side."

He collapsed in the shade of a tree, his foot throbbing. If he didn't get antibiotics soon, his foot was going to be in big trouble. Pus already streamed from various cuts, and the other one wasn't much better.

Night came, and he passed out, shivering.





He opened his eyes. A strong black man was shaking him. "You need to wake up."

Ray shook his head, shivering. He couldn't remember where he was.

Another man came and helped the black one shift him onto a stretcher.

When he opened his eyes again, he heard the chopper blades chop, chop, chopping through the air.

Tasha caressed his cheek. "Are you okay, babe?"

She had stayed by his side. He blinked and looked around him. Outside, the island was getting smaller and smaller.

"Don't worry, babe,” she said. “They're taking us away from that horrid place, and we'll never come back again."

Still groggy, he clasped her hand. She was his rock, his beautiful bride.





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