section7mfu | Robinson Solo - Short Affair Challenge 27th November

For the short affair challenge - word - horizon
colour - green

On the third day he caught sight of a speck of green on the horizon. Well, that was a relief. Even with an ample supply of food and water, the practicalities of life in a rubber dingy were wearing on him. Cocktails at sunset on a luxury yacht were more his speed.

He paddled purposefully towards the island, hoping it would be inhabited. He thought he'd been heading towards civilisation, but he hadn't known exactly where he was when the THRUSH boat went down...and as the day wore on and the green speck grew larger, his hope shrank. It was an island, sure, but it was barely half a mile long, and there was no other land in sight.

Well. It had to be better than the boat, right?

It was just approaching sunset as he dragged the boat up onto the beach. Not exactly the best time to go exploring, so he gathered driftwood to start a signal fire, and made a ridiculously simple shelter from a few sticks, a large rock and the upturned raft. It would do for tonight; he thought, as he sat watching the flames and chewing on some dried meat.

The fourth day he woke at sunrise, unsurprised but a little disappointed to note that no one had come and found him in the night. His communicator was long gone along with his gun and everything but the clothes on his back and the supplies in the boat. Rescue could be a while. Best to get on with surviving, really.

He had another few days worth of water but he had to be prepared for when that ran out, so he spent the morning digging a hole just below the treeline and repurposing his suit jacket to make a moisture trap. Oh, now he almost hoped he didn't get rescued today, otherwise this would be a terrible waste of a very fine jacket. Almost. He still spent the afternoon gathering wood and greens to feed the fire, and large white stones to spell out SOS on the beach. There. Now if there was anyone in the vicinity they couldn't miss him.

Hopefully that 'anyone' would be an UNCLE search and rescue team and not THRUSH.

That thought in mind, once he'd built a slightly more substantial lean-to shelter, he spent the evening whittling on a large tree branch, sharpening it into a crude spear. Being completely unarmed was a sensation he didn't care for. Besides, maybe he could use it to get some fresh food. There was only so many emergency rations a man could reasonably be expected to eat.

The fifth day he took his spear and walked into the forest. If this was going to be home for even a few more days he wanted to be sure he knew every inch of it as best he could. No surprises was best. It didn't take him long to find the spring and the pool around it and he took careful note of the animal tracks. Rodents and birds, by the look of things, which made sense. He doubted this island was large enough to support anything larger. Still, the water should be safe to drink if he boiled it at least, and he used a few convenient vines to set a couple of snares, just in case.

The fire was burning low when he reached the beach again that evening, laden down with coconuts, bananas, and a few crabs that hadn't scuttled away quite fast enough.

Roasted crabmeat over a coconut and banana reduction. He'd seen stranger things on the menu in Letruce. All he needed now was a bottle of champagne on ice and some convivial company.

The sixth day, while he was spearfishing in the shallows, he spotted dark clouds on the horion and made sure to reinforce his shelter even more, weaving layers of large and almost certainly probably waterproof fronds among the walls and roof.

Before the storm hit he laid out lines of coconut shells and wide leaves, and as the rain fell he watched them gather water and wondered just where he was going to put it all.

The seventh day he looked around and wondered just what he was supposed to do now?

*

There'd been reports of fishermen seeing a plume of smoke somewhere far to the south. Illya hated to get his hopes up – this wasn't the
first lead he'd had – but it was most certainly worth checking out. Napoleon had been missing for over three weeks now and he found himself...concerned.

Sure enough, he caught sight of dark smoke rising from a tiny island in the distance, and he banked the seaplane sharply, heading straight for it. Soon he spotted the SOS message laid out on the beach and he let his hopes rise at last. He was smiling as he landed in the water and jumped down into the surf, even before he waded up onto the beach and caught sight of the comfortable looking beach house with its sturdy wooden walls and roof thatched with palm fronds.

Napoleon was leaning back on a log chair on the deck. He watched Illya approach and didn't make a move except to raise the coconut shell he was sipping from. “Morning, partner. You took your time. Drink?”

Illya took a moment, taking in what Napoleon had built. A dozen or so wooden spears of varying sizes leaned against the wall. There was a string of fish hanging up to dry in the sun and a surprisingly appetising smell coming from the rough stone oven set into the signal fire. Napoleon himself looked healthy enough. His trousers were cut off at the knee and his shirt was hardly white anymore, but he was clean-shaven and his hair was as neat as ever.

“I see I need not have hurried,” he said at last.

“You know I like my creature comforts,” Napoleon smiled. “Are you sure you don't want that drink? My latest batch of pineapple gin is almost enjoyable.”

Of course. He looked at Napoleon for a long moment. “You were very bored indeed, were you not?”

For a moment Napoleon looked indignant, then his face dissolved into a rueful grin. “I swear, pal, I'm about two days from declaring myself king and writing my memoirs with a burned stick. Can we please get out of here?”

He smiled. “I think that can be arranged – if you are certain you will not miss all this.”

“I've been dreaming of hot water and Chinese food for weeks now,” Napoleon said fervently, now standing up and heading for the ocean and the plane. “If you don't get a move on I might just leave you here instead.”

“Are you sure you do not wish to bring your pineapple gin?” Illya called after him. He took a last look around Napoleon's refuge, shaking his head slowly. His partner never ceased to amaze him.