Kai tested the folding shovel against a fallen branch.
The steel blade bit into the wood with a sharp crack.
“That's useful.”
A length of dry timber broke free. He split it into smaller pieces, then checked the branch with the golden text hovering above it.
[Dry camphor wood: dense grain, burns steadily, produces relatively little smoke. Suitable for starting and maintaining a fire.]
Kai collected the best pieces and used a section of damaged fishing net to bundle them together. Every trip required time and energy, so he chose wood that would burn for a while rather than waste effort on tiny twigs.
The sun was still visible above the horizon, but the island was changing.
A strange purple-red aurora spread through the sky, and the hot air that had pressed against Kai's skin all afternoon began to thin. The wind shifted. It carried dampness from the sea, and its chill slipped through his wet clothes.
He stopped and looked out over the water.
The sun hadn't completely set, yet the temperature was already dropping.
“Of course,” he muttered. “Why would anything here be normal?”
He worked faster, cutting the larger branches into manageable lengths. Once the bundle was secure, he slung it over his shoulder and headed back.
Below him, the beach had become a different kind of battlefield.
Kael Rainer stood unsteadily beside the boulder where the survivors had gathered. His lips were cracked, his shirt was stained with salt, and his usual confidence had been reduced to a brittle, angry impatience.
“I can't take this anymore,” he rasped. “If we don't find water before it gets dark, we're finished.”
He kicked Tyler's leg.
“Get up. All of you. Search the trees. There have to be coconuts.”
Tyler, who had barely enough strength to stand, scrambled to his feet. Javi followed him, along with several other men. They moved toward the crooked palms at the edge of the trees, stumbling over roots and broken timber.
At first, their search seemed to pay off.
“There!” Tyler shouted. “Coconuts!”
Several round fruits lay beneath the trees. The men rushed toward them, grabbing one each and turning them over in their hands.
Then reality caught up with them.
The outer husks were thick and fibrous. None of them had a proper tool, and the stones they picked up barely damaged the shell.
“Hit them harder!” Kael shouted.
He seized a coconut and slammed it against a jagged rock.
The husk tore. A few fibers came loose.
The shell remained intact.
Tyler found a heavy stone and swung it down with both hands. His grip slipped, and the rock smashed against his wrist. There was a sharp crack as the Rolex on his wrist broke apart, the crystal shattering while the strap snapped loose and disappeared into the scrub.
Tyler stared at it for half a second.
Then he reached for another stone.
The watch had once represented years of salary. Right now, he couldn't spare the energy to care about it.
They kept trying.
After more than ten minutes, Javi finally cracked one coconut open. A dark, foul liquid oozed through the split, followed by a smell so rotten that everyone recoiled.
Kael was already bending down to drink.
He took one desperate mouthful.
Then he gagged.
He turned away and vomited into the sand, coughing so hard that his knees struck the ground. The others crowded around the opened fruit, only to discover a brown, gelatinous mess crawling with white larvae. A deformed coconut crab pushed its way through the cracked shell.
“That thing was rotten!” Javi shouted.
“No kidding!” Kael wheezed.
The men retched and backed away. They had spent what little strength they had left trying to open a fruit that was completely useless.
No water. No food. Nothing to show for the effort except broken skin, bruised hands, and a stench that seemed impossible to escape.
As the wind strengthened, their brief excitement drained away.
They looked like men who had been abandoned by the world.
At the cave entrance, Sora heard Kai returning before she saw him. She tightened her grip on the sharpened spear, its point aimed toward the gap between the vines.
“Don't come any closer!”
“It's me.”
Kai ducked through the entrance, and the bundle of wood struck the stone with a dull thump.
Sora lowered the spear. She looked embarrassed by her own fear, but Kai said nothing about it.
“Good,” he said. “You remembered what I told you.”
“I nearly put it through you.”
“Then next time, make sure you know who's coming first.”
He set down the storage case and wood. Outside, the last light had almost vanished, and the temperature was falling faster than he liked.
Kai chose a dry patch near the back of the cave. Using the shovel and knife, he split the camphor wood into thinner pieces, arranged the tinder, and built a small fire lay. He kept it away from the supplies and positioned the larger logs so the flames would spread gradually rather than flare up all at once.
Then he took out the magnesium fire starter he had recovered earlier.
Sora leaned forward.
“Can you really make a fire with that?”
“That's the plan.”
He braced the magnesium rod and drew the spine of his knife across it.
Sparks burst into the dry tinder.
The first attempt produced only a thin wisp of smoke.
Kai adjusted the angle, scraped again, and sent a fresh shower of sparks into the smallest fibers.
A tiny flame appeared.
He leaned down and blew gently, careful not to smother it. The flame wavered, nearly disappeared, then caught a strand of dried vegetation. It spread to the kindling, then climbed into the first split piece of camphor.
Within moments, the wood was burning steadily.
Warm yellow light filled the cave.
Sora sat motionless, watching the flames dance over the stone floor. After everything that had happened—the wreck, the thirst, the frightening sky—this ordinary little fire seemed almost impossible.
Kai added another piece of wood.
“Keep enough fuel nearby,” he said. “Not all of it. We need to save some for tomorrow.”
Sora nodded and drew closer to the warmth.
Outside, the island was growing colder by the minute.
On the beach, the others were about to discover that a fire was more than a comforting light.
It was the difference between enduring the night and being at the mercy of it.