Horizons by Catherine Hart Page B

were having better success. Trying not to think about the crash, but thinking about it anyway. Wondering if anyone besides themselves knew the plane had gone down—if their loved ones had been informed, if they were anxiously awaiting news, just as these few survivors were anxiously awaiting rescue.
    They heard Alita long before she came into view. She was alternately cursing in Spanish and singing a song about washing some man out of her hair. She staggered the last few feet, and dropped to the ground like a limp doll.
    “So, where’s Zach?” Gavin prompted when Alita didn’t volunteer any information.
    “In hell, I hope,” Alita rasped irritably. “Caramba! I sound like a frog! I need something to drink.”
    Kelly passed her a section of coconut.
    Alita made a face. “I hate coconut! Give me some water.”
    “The only water available is right behind you,” Kelly told her. “A whole ocean full of it. This isn’t the Hilton. It’s either coconut milk or nothing. Unless you’d prefer to suck on a banana.”
    “Suck one yourself,” Alita retorted smartly. “Better yet, go suck a rotten egg.” Despite her aversion for it, Alita accepted the coconut. “Agh! This is awful!”
    “Try pretending it’s a pina colada,” Frazer suggested.
    “Try pretending you’re an invisible mime,” she snapped back.
    “Look, snipe all you want, but tell us what happened. Did you and Zach find anything? Is he coming back?” This from Gavin, whose patience was at its end.
    “He’ll be here when he gets damn good and ready, I suppose. And no, we didn’t find anything but sand and rocks and trees. That is why he went on, and I turned back. That man! He doesn’t walk. He trots. He jogs. He just keeps going and going and going, like that stupid bunny in those commercials. I told him to slow down. I told him I was ti red, and hungry and dying of thirst. And what does he say? He tells me he warned me not to come along with him. And he just keeps walking!”
    “How far did you go before you started back?”
    “Clear to the end of the island, I think. The shoreline took a big curve to the left, and I couldn’t see any more land straight ahead.”
    “How many miles?” Gavin pressed.
    Alita scowled at him. “How the devil should I know?” She shook her wrist at him. It was adorned with a gold, diamond-encrusted watch. “Does this look like one of those things people wear when they run? No. I t is a watch, not a… a… ”
    “Odometer,” he supplied.
    “Whatever. It tells time, not kilometers.”
    “You didn’t see any lights? Any utility poles or wires? No footprints? Nothing?” Kelly asked despondently.
    “Nada, ” Alita repeated succinctly. “Not a blasted, blessed thing.”
    “Did you and Zach find any fresh water anywhere?” Frazer wanted to know.
    Alita shook her head, setting her long earrings jangling against her tangled raven hair. “If we had, I would still be there, drowning my thirst and soaking my poor, aching body.”
     
     
    A t first, Kelly wasn’t sure what had awakened her. As she looked around, nothing seemed different, except that the fire had burned down and could use another piece of wood. She rose quietly, not wanting to disturb the others, suppressing a groan as her sore muscles protested the movement. She was reaching for a chunk of driftwood when it occurred to her that it was too quiet. Even with the waves s ti ll hissing onto the shore, Earl mumbling in his sleep, and Gavin snoring ligh tl y, there was something missing. Some essential sound.
    Then it hit her. The woman. She wasn’t gasping anymore. The wheezing and rattling she’d made with every breath was gone. With trepidation, Kelly went to her and knelt at her side. The woman’s face was peaceful, not longer twisted with pain. Even as she took hold of her wrist to feel for a pulse, Kelly knew what she would find. She was dead.
    “If you’re considering CPR, don’t bother, dearie. She passed on about half an hour