As the sun set in the ocean, marking the beginning of the survivors' second night on the island, they stood round a hole in the sandy soil at the edge of the forest. In it they had placed the remains of the plane's crew, who had died in the crash. In a way this was a recognition that they might be on the island for some time.
"We should bury the plane crew who died," Tom had said earlier. "When the rescue team get here they'll probably want to take the bodies back, but we can't just leave them lying around to rot or get mauled by animals." It was a recognition that they were not going to be rescued immediately, that they needed to think a bit further ahead.
They stood round the hole in silence for a minute or two. Ruth wondered what the others were thinking about. Probably not much sorrow for the people who had died- they hadn't even known their names. Probably most people were more concerned with their own future- how were they going to get home?
After a few minutes they filled the grave in and rolled two big stones over the hole to mark it out. Then, still quiet, they headed back to their camp. By the time they arrived it was quite dark, and the fire had sunk low. Sophie and Amy built it up from their woodpile- they were very proud of their woodpile, graded as Alex had told them from tiny twigs and scraps of bark at one end to large lumps of fallen trees at the other. Those who knew something about woodcraft couldn't bring themselves to tell the two girls that there was far more small stuff than was needed, and too little of a decent size, while some of the biggest pieces needed chopping up before they would be much use. Tomorrow, Ruth thought, they would need to collect much more.
They sat round the fire in the flickering light, eating a strange meal of crab meat with some of the edible roots Alex had found in the forest. The vegetarians- Charlotte and Patrick- ate only the roots.
Patrick had turned up just before sunset. No one other than Ruth appeared to have noticed his absence, and she didn't say much, except to ask if he was all right.
"Yes," he had said. "Are you?"
"I'm ok," she had replied. What else could she say? That she was as frightened as anyone, that despite the afternoon's activity she hadn't been able to put the possibility of being stuck here forever out of her mind. She tried to calm herself down. She had been in worse situations. But it still wasn't pleasant.
"Been exploring?" she'd asked.
"Yes. There's some caves up there, and I was trying to find where the bats were sleeping. It was amazing! You'll have to go and see it."
"Sometime, when everyone's not busy trying to find food," she had said, trying not to make the remark too pointed. Someone else said something to her at that moment, and she didn't see whether or not he had got what she had said. She didn't want to make him feel bad. But she was jealous that he had seemed able to escape the worry and responsibility that she felt so heavily. But that was how it always seemed.
"Listen," Emily said suddenly. "There's that noise again." The screech-howl reached them from the dark mass of the trees.
"We still don't know what's making it," Rachel said nervously.
"It's just some kind of bird or animal," Ruth replied. "It's nothing to do with us."
As darkness set in gloom was returning. The sombre ceremony had reminded them of their own close escape, and the reality of what might still be. They had been so busy that afternoon that they had barely had time to realise that they had still seen and heard nothing that suggested that they were being searched for, or that anyone had realised that they had gone missing. Fear was rising, and the horrible cries from deep in the forest made everyone jumpy.
Nick had been fiddling with the broken radio equipment again, but with no more success than the day before. It seemed that although most of the of the pilot's radio was not too badly damaged, other areas -Ruth was not technical enough to understand quite which- were beyond hope of repair, while others might possibly be repairable. Ruth didn't understand the technical details but she did recognise that tone of voice, that hopeful optimism which was usually doomed to disappointment. She knew, whatever Nick and David might argue, that the chances of their ever being able to broadcast an appeal for help were slim.
Even if they had been able to, what could they tell potential rescuers (assuming that anyone picking up their broadcast was able to speak English and understood them? They did not know where they were, and there must be hundreds if not thousands of little islands like this dotted about the ocean. Even once anyone started looking for them, it might be some time before they were found.
So it was in a still sombre mood that the maroons tried to sleep that night. Ruth curled herself up by the fire, her head pillowed on her arm, a cloak that had been part of her costume wrapped round her. She listened to the others talking, putting in a word occasionally, feeling a little jealous at those who sat in couples with their arms around each other. She said good night as some people drifted off to the shelter. The techies new improved shelter still wasn't finished, so some people would have to stay outside again tonight. It was cloudier than the night before, but it didn't feel like rain.
She stared at the fire, tired but not expecting to be able to sleep. But her eyes closed and by the time most of the others had left the fire circle she was already asleep.
The story continues...
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