Pain in his right hand woke him.
The cut on its back had closed under a crust, but the skin around it was pink, tight and hot.
He could still move his fingers.
Flexing them made the hand throb.
[Health 89% | Hunger 56% | Thirst 84% | Stamina 74%]
[Conditions: Laceration ×2, Infection (hand).
Health −2/day until treated.]
He had no antiseptic or clean bandage.
One bottle of water stood beside the purifier.
He did not know whether washing the cut would stop the infection.
Another line appeared on the panel.
[Regional Chat Unlocked — Seabird Waters, Sector 14]
[Messages reach survivors within your current region.
Survivors in region: 121.]
The Chat tab had a second heading under it now.
He opened it, expecting the flood.
Messages arrived slowly enough to read.
One person asked if the new channel meant they could see one another.
Another had a raft and a bottle but nothing to eat.
The region held 121 survivors, spread across kilometres of water.
[Reeve] Morning.
Anyone who can see the big bird rock, you’re east of me.
I’ve got oars.
Kessler, that was you there yesterday with the guano.
Don’t paddle into the birds again.
They’ll have your eyes.
Reeve had connected Adam’s guano post with the bird rock.
More useful, he had oars.
Adam typed with his left hand.
[Kessler] Yes.
The rock’s about a kilometre behind me.
I’ve got a purifier.
How far can you row in a morning?
[Reeve] Couple of km a morning if I’m not stupid about it.
Bad knee.
Water’s the thing to have, lad.
Hold on to it.
[ChloeB] hi sorry is anyone near sector 14 seabird i’m at thirst 18 and i dont have anything i have a tin of seeds thats it thats my gift and i cant see anyone
[ChloeB] sorry i know everyones got their own.
i just cant see anyone
At eighteen per cent Thirst, Chloe needed water soon.
Her messages came without capitals or full stops.
Adam looked across the empty water.
He could not see another raft.
He had clean water but could not send it through Chat.
Remote trade did not exist.
He could not find her from here, and his hand would make paddling difficult.
He asked what she could see.
[Kessler] Chloe.
I can’t send you water.
Lie down, cover your face from the sun and don’t paddle.
What can you see?
[ChloeB] nothing.
just sea.
theres some birds a long way off to my left.
no rock or anything
[Reeve] Birds on your left.
Which way’s the sun.
[ChloeB] behind me and left.
sort of
[Reeve] I think you’re west of the rock and north of me.
Stay put.
I’m coming.
Two hours, maybe.
Keep typing so I know you’re there.
[Reeve] Kessler.
Wash that hand.
Clean water, not salt.
Salt water and gull shit, what did you expect.
Pour a whole bottle through it if it takes it.
Adam looked at his paddle.
He did not know where Chloe was.
Reeve had oars and a rough direction; Adam could help by staying in Chat while Reeve rowed.
He unscrewed the clear bottle.
He had clean water and a purifier that would make more today.
His hand was getting worse.
He poured clean water over the cut.
Yellow fluid washed out from under the crust.
He used most of the bottle on the hand and the rest on the cut on his scalp, then checked the panel.
[Infection (hand): improving.
Health −1/day.
Est.
2 days.]
“Improving,” he said.
The hand still hurt when he bent it.
He let it dry in the air and used his left hand to lower the bucket for seawater.
The full bucket was too heavy to lift that way.
He filled it halfway, braced the handle against his boot and tipped the water into the purifier’s intake without wetting the cut.
He set the empty bottle beneath the spout and went back to Chat.
Chloe kept typing.
Adam read her messages and left the channel clear for Reeve.
She was from Bristol and studied veterinary nursing.
Her tin held about thirty seeds: radish, lettuce and a third kind she could not remember.
She had nearly thrown them away on the second day.
Then Reeve said he could see her.
She could see him standing in his raft with the oars.
While he waited, Adam checked what had to stay dry: eggs, dried fish, guano and feathers.
The eggs lay in a shallow gap beside the purifier.
One rolled when a swell lifted the raft, and he caught it before it reached the edge.
He set it down to check Chloe’s next message.
His inventory slots were crowded, and the raft had little free space.
He chose a Storage Crate over another Raft Tile so he could close a lid over the food.
Six wood and one rope.
He laid the six shortest lengths on the tile beside the box and coiled the cut rope on top of them, the frayed end tucked under, and confirmed.
The planks formed a knee-high crate with a wooden lid.
[Storage Crate.
Capacity: 40 slots.
Quality: Normal.]
He moved the eggs, fish, feathers and green bottle into the crate by thought, then closed the lid.
[Reeve] Got her.
She’s alright.
She talks a lot.
[ChloeB] i’m ok.
he gave me a whole bottle.
i’m ok.
thank you kessler for saying lie down i think that helped.
he says i’m to stop typing and drink
[Reeve] Rafting her to mine for now.
Two rafts tied is a better raft.
Kessler, if you’re drifting this way you’ll pass north of us.
Don’t waste your paddle on it.
Water comes to you out here if you wait.
Adam sent Reeve his position: a kilometre north-east of the rock and drifting away from it.
Reeve was about two kilometres west of the rock and south of Adam’s line.
At noon he cracked two of the eggs against the crate and ate them raw.
They tasted strongly of fish.
The panel marked each egg as edible and added five points to Hunger.
He put the shells over the side.
Seven eggs remained in the crate.
A few birds still followed the water near his raft, and fish flashed beneath them.
Adam moved his line to that side of the raft.
He held it with his left hand and kept the injured right hand against his chest.
The first fish pulled hard enough that he almost grabbed the line with both hands.
He waited until it tired, then lifted it onto a dry board.
His hand hurt when he tried to take out the hook, so he pinned the fish with his boot and worked the hook free with his left hand.
The next two were smaller.
He ate one raw at the purifier and put the other two in the crate.
The illness roll came up clean.
The hand was still hot at dusk, but less than it had been that morning.
The pink had come in by a finger’s width on either side.
He had drunk from the purifier during the day and refilled the clear bottle.
He did not put the hand in the sea again.
[Health 88% | Hunger 68% | Thirst 90% | Stamina 60%]
[Conditions: Laceration ×2, Infection (hand): improving]
He closed the panel and lay down between the purifier and the new crate, keeping his right hand away from the wet boards.