Slaves of Elysium by W. S. Antony Page B

about her but rolling black waters laced with foam. She floundered about, lost and confused and sick with fear. A wave rose under her, carrying her up to its crest as though trying to toss her to the clouds. For a moment she thought she saw the raft’s beacon flashing in the far distance, then it was gone as she was plunged back into a trough once more.
    For an age it seemed that the ocean played with her as she struggled ever more feebly against its pounding waters, fighting to breathe air thick with spray. Finally, numbed by despair and beyond hope, Jeni gave herself up to the sea. It had won. She could fight no more.
    The pounding faded as all sensation slipped away and exhaustion claimed her.
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    Jeni woke to the rhythmic swish and rush of waves breaking on a beach.
    Gradually she became aware of other things; the sun on her back, salt drying on her skin, sand beneath her. There was also a throbbing ache throughout her entire body as though she had been mercilessly pummelled all over. She realised she was sprawled half on her face. Her lifejacket bulked awkwardly under her, but for the moment she did not even have the strength to open her salt-gummed eyes, much less to roll into a more comfortable position.
    Fragments of memory returned. From out of her exhausted delirium she vaguely recalled the storm becoming a booming of breaking waves. Then had come rushing bubbles, dreadful pressure on her chest and the sensation of being rolled over and over.
    But she had been washed up on a beach. Solid ground. She was safe!
    But where was she? And where were the others?
    With an effort she forced her aching limbs to move. Groaning she sat up, rubbed her eyes open, ignoring the salt-sting, and looked about.
    A blue sea lapped about a beach of fine golden sand, backed by a green wall of palms rising over a tangle of lesser shrubs. From over this fringe of verdure the morning sun shone hot and bright from between a few puffy white clouds. A morning sun? Had it been that long since the Galatea went down?
    Unsteadily, Jeni climbed to her feet so she could see further.
    Judging by the sun, the beach ran roughly north/south in an almost straight line, broken only by a few scalloped bays, until it faded into the distant blue haze. It was quite beautiful, but completely deserted. Again she wondered where the others were. But above all, where was Ash?
    Jeni tried to call out, but could only produce a strangled croak. Her throat and tongue were salt-burned. Before she did anything else she had to find fresh water.
    With stiff fingers she managed to release her lifejacket, which she dropped to the sand. Then she headed unsteadily up the beach and into the cool shade of the palms. There were a few fallen coconuts lying on the ground and she picked one up. Now if only she could find a stone to crack it open. But the ground seemed to be a sandy soil mixed with nothing larger than pebbles. She must be able to find a rock somewhere! In desperation she pounded the coconut against a palm trunk, but it stubbornly refused to split.
    Jeni stumbled on along the tree line feeling increasingly sick and light-headed. How much salt-water had she swallowed last night? She must open her coconut somehow or else find fresh water. It was ridiculous that she should survive a shipwreck only to die of thirst with sustenance in her hand.
    Then she heard a splash of water from somewhere ahead that was distinct from the wash of the sea. Was she imagining it? No, it was real. She broke into a tottering run.
    Cresting a slight rise she came upon a tiny inlet overhung by palms. A clear stream ran out of the forest over a pebbly bed and across a furrow cut in the sand to empty itself in the ocean. Jeni plunged into the stream, splashing and scrabbling her way up into the trees until she was clear of the salty beach. Then she cupped the water to her mouth and drank and drank. The finest champagne could not have tasted more wonderful.
    For some minutes she lay still