On the Island Read Online Free PDF

Checking her out should have been the last thing on my mind, but it wasn’t. You wouldn’t think I’d be able to get hard either, considering how thirsty and hungry I was and how seriously fucked up our situation had become, but you’d be wrong. I swam away from her until I got myself under control.
    We stayed in the water for a long time and when we got out she turned her back to me and put her clothes on. We checked the breadfruit tree but there weren’t any on the ground. Anna climbed up on my shoulders and when I steadied her by pressing down on her thighs, the image of her bare legs flashed into my mind.
    She knocked down two breadfruits. I wasn’t very hungry, which was weird since I should have been starving. Anna must not have been hungry either, because she didn’t eat the fruit after she sucked out all the juice.
    When the sun went down, we stretched out near the shore and watched the bats fill the sky.
    “My heart is beating really fast,” I said.
    “It’s a sign of dehydration,” Anna said.
    “What are the other signs?”
    “Loss of appetite. Not having to pee. Dry mouth.”
    “I have all those.”
    “Me, too.”
    “How long we can go without water?”
    “Three days. Maybe less.”
    I tried to remember the last time I drank anything. Maybe at the Sri Lanka airport? We were getting a little in our mouths when it rained, but it wouldn’t be enough to keep us alive. The realization that we were running out of time scared the shit out of me.
    “What about the pond?”
    “It’s a bad idea,” she said.
    Neither of us said what we were thinking. If it came down to the pond water or no water, we might have to drink it anyway.
    “They’ll come tomorrow,” she said, but she didn’t sound like she believed it.
    “I hope so.”
    “I’m scared,” she whispered.
    “So am I.” I rolled over on my side, but it was a long time before I fell asleep.

Chapter 5
    —
    Anna
    Day 3
    When T.J. and I woke up, we both had headaches and felt nauseous. We ate some breadfruit, and I thought I might throw mine up, but I didn’t. Even though we had very little energy, we returned to the beach and decided to try building a fire again. I was convinced a plane would fly over that day, and I knew a fire was our best chance to make sure they spotted us.
    “We did it all wrong yesterday,” T.J. said. “I was thinking about it last night, before I fell asleep, and I remember watching a show on TV where the guy had to make a fire. He spun the stick instead of rubbing two of them together. I have an idea. I’m going to see if I can find what I need.”
    While he was gone, I gathered anything that would burn if we actually managed to produce a flame. The air was so humid, and the only thing on the island that was dry was the inside of my mouth. Everything I picked up felt damp, but I finally found some dry leaves on the underside of a flowering plant. I also pulled the pockets of my jeans inside out and found a bit of lint, which I added to the pile in my hand.
    T.J. returned with a stick and a smaller chunk of wood.
    “Do you have any lint in your pockets?” I asked him. He turned his pockets inside out, found some, and handed it to me.
    “Thanks.” I formed the lint and leaves into a little nest. I also gathered small sticks and collected a mound of damp, green leaves we could add to make plenty of smoke.
    T.J. sat down and held the stick upright, perpendicular to the chunk of wood it rested on.
    “What are you doing?” I asked him.
    “I’m trying to figure out a way to spin the stick.” He studied it for a minute. “I think the guy used a string. I wish I hadn’t kicked off my shoes; I could have used the laces.”
    He twisted the stick back and forth with one hand but he couldn’t spin it fast enough to get any friction. Sweat ran down his face.
    “This is fucking impossible,” he said, resting for a few minutes.
    With renewed determination, he used both hands and rubbed them together, with the