I vomited over the side of the ship. As I gasped the salty air into my lungs, my mouth still bitter, a sailor clapped me on the back.
“Oi, not much for the sea, I see, it’s best if you go downstairs. It’s dangerous to lean over the railing like that.”
“Yeah, I think I’ll do that.”
The man had an accent I couldn’t place, and I couldn’t guess his ethnicity, given how covered he was. Damn, it was cold out here. Of course, it was cold back in the boat, too. It was a constant sort of cold that made me feel like I would never be warm again. He held out a flask of water for me.
I gratefully accepted and tipped it back to wash the flavor of puke from my mouth. I then doubled over, coughing my lungs out. That was not water.
The man chuckled, “Ah, yes, that will wash the taste out of your mouth. Now get downstairs and try to relax till you get your sea legs.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” I stumbled into the door and made my way into my room dazedly. I opened the minifridge (what was the point? It was just as cold as everything else) and got out water to wash the taste of vodka from my mouth. Russian. That man was probably Russian.
I eased into my bed, feeling like I might vomit again, praying I’d get to the settlement sooner rather than later. Just one more day before, I’d never have to set foot on a boat again. Why did I decide to come here?
Like clockwork, she popped into my head. God, why couldn’t I forget her? She was thousands of lightyears away now. But even after moving to a different planet, I couldn’t stop thinking of her.
“Stop it,” I said to my brain. But it didn’t stop. I remember when we first met, my first time at a gay bar. She was so outgoing and wild—everything I wanted to be. We kissed for the first time that night after slow dancing. My mind flicked over all the memories of our five-year relationship. Her teaching me the names of constellations and how to spot them. Going on picnics together. Movie nights, where we both ended up asleep on the couch. It was so good. We were so good.
Until the day I came home early from my trip and caught her with another woman.
Yeah, that was why I was out here.
Now, I felt ill and heartbroken. I curled up in a tight little ball, hoping my body could capture warmth that way. As I lay there, trying not to cry, the ship came to a screeching halt, and sirens began to screech.
I popped up, almost expecting to awaken. It was a nightmare, right? My day couldn’t possibly get any worse.
God, how wrong I was.
After sitting there, stunned momentarily, I stumbled out of bed and ran out onto the deck, where it was utter pandemonium.
Sailors ran around frantically, shouting at each other. Other passengers littered the deck, watching, confused as I was.
The captain came onto the intercom.
“Attention all passengers, go below deck. We have encountered a pack of water lions. Repeat, all passengers, go below deck-“
The ship lurched under my feet, and a massive explosion rocked the boat. I stumbled and fell, sliding to the railing. The passengers began screaming, and most of them struggled back below deck.
I vomited onto myself this time, and the ship rocked again. My vision swam as I struggled to crawl towards where I thought the door was. But the ship rocked again.
It took an enormous amount of willpower, but I got back onto my feet. I clung to the railing as if my life depended on it. I stared into the dark water below.
“Hey, you! Get away from the “
The ship lurched again, and I lost my grip on the railing, sailing into the dark abyss below me.
God, I was so cold. Colder than I’d ever been in my life. I slowly opened my eyes, and my vision swam in front of me. Wreckage. Crates. Beach. I groaned and tried to sit up. Mistake. I dry wretched, but there was nothing left in my stomach to throw up. I was hungry, too.
After I finished, I looked around me, shivering. It was daytime. That’s right, on this planet, it took days for the sun to set and return. That was probably the only reason I hadn’t frozen to death. If I didn’t do something, I’d die from hypothermia. I got onto my feet and peered into a broken crate. Emergency ration meals. They need hot water.
It was helpful, but I needed something to keep me warm right now. I struggled to the next metal crate. Biomass. I could burn that. Great find. I grabbed some and looked more closely at my surroundings.
Bodies. I felt chilly as I looked at them. Only about three. Each with burn marks. Maybe…
I walked steadier now that I was on land. I checked their pulses. None. I was alone. I checked them for useful items. One had a lighter—another great find.
I arranged the biomass, and the lighter flickered until it came to life.
The warm flames licked around the biomass, greedily gobbling it. I’ll have to be careful with how much I use. I stood there by the fire, shivering from both cold and shock.
I was so fucked.
I sat there by the fire, tears silently streaming down my face. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t. No matter how heartbroken I was. Would someone look for me?
I wiped them away, trying to make the best of my situation. I had food. I had fire. I just had to hold out until the search team found me. Who knows, maybe I was already on the continent and could return to civilization on my own.
I remember camping with my parents, my dad teaching me what I thought were a lot of useless survival tricks. Thank you so much, Dad. I swore I’d call him when I could. Maybe it wasn’t too late to patch things up.
When I felt like I wouldn’t die from exposure and my clothes were somewhat dry, I took another look around the beach. I should survey my surroundings.
The beach led into some rocky outcroppings. Those rocky outcroppings led to my beach. I was on a small island.
So much for rescuing myself, the only plant life on the island was exotically colored lichens and moss. I would have to hold out for the search party.
I sat back down at the beach, the sun just beginning its descent into the sky. From what I could tell, it would take about a day and a half to sink below the horizon. By then, I needed a decent shelter and enough biomass to keep me warm until it rose again. I would also need a pot to heat water. Fuck water. What was I going to do about water? Could I create some kind of collection system where I could boil seawater and make it condense into good water? But I didn’t have any good collection material.
Shit, what was I going to do? I tried to swallow the panic in my throat. I was so screwed without water. There were only crates of biomass and dried meals on my island. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I got up in a panic to do another round of the island. Nothing new. I did another before leaning against a rock.
I could feel myself beginning to panic big time. Without water, I couldn’t make the meals. Never mind that. The lack of water would kill me long before the lack of nutrition did. I struggled to hold in my tears. That would be a waste of valuable water. I put my forehead against the rock, trying to calm down. The breeze gently tickled my face.
The breeze… was coming from the rock?
I brought my head back and looked more closely. Tiny cracks came up from the bottom of the rock. I brought my ear to them and listened closely. It sounded quiet, but the breeze was coming out. Did the island have a cave?
A cave might mean condensation. Condensation meant dripping. Dripping meant pools of fresh water. I needed to get into that cave.
I looked around for an opening. No such luck. But I had to be careful. I didn’t want to collapse the cave by making an opening into it. Perhaps there was a way I could make an entrance without disturbing the structure.
I looked for possible openings without disturbing the structure, eventually returning to the rocks with the cracks. I pushed it a little to test it. It gave a little. I listened closely. There are no shifting rocks. This could be it. But I needed more than my hands to open it up. I returned to the crates and pried the lid off the dehydrated meals. This might work.
I went back to the cracks and began to chip away. Slowly, bit by bit. Finally, I created a small opening. I gently widened it until it was big enough to squeeze through.
I stopped and stepped back to admire my handiwork. Not too bad. It was just big enough for me to crawl through. I looked inside. The floor of the cave was about ten feet down. I stuck my hand inside and felt the wall. Wet. I brought my hand back and licked it. Freshwater.
Tears sprang to my eyes. Thank God. Thank you, God. I swear I will never do anything bad ever again. I had drinkable water. I wasn’t going to die of thirst.
I wiped my eyes. I should explore the cave. First, I needed an easy way to get in and out. But I didn’t have any rope. Or did I?
I returned to the beach and moved the corpses to the rocky area. I wanted to keep them from washing away as an apology for what I was about to do.
“I’m so sorry, but I need these more than you.” I stripped them and brought their clothes back to the hole. I tied them together, making a makeshift rope, tying it to a rock, and throwing it down into the cave. It came a little short of the bottom, but it would get the job done.
I climbed slowly and flicked on my lighter when I reached the bottom. The cave shimmered from condensation, looking like treasure. I was so lucky. Stalactites had formed, and the occasional drip landed on the ground. Could I be lucky enough to find a pool of fresh water?
I pushed farther into the cave, and abruptly came upon a small pool of water, could it be? I dipped my hand in and tasted it. Damn it. Salt water. The cave must have an underwater opening.
I brought my lighter up again and saw a shallow pool of water off to my right. Yes, it had to be fresh! I watched a small drop of water fall into it from above.
I forgot to be careful. In my excitement, I foolishly rushed to the pool of water. As I dipped my hand to check it, a low growl ripped through the air and chilled me to my core.
I froze, choked with fear. I slowly looked into the abyss beyond the pool.
Two eyes stared back, lit by the light of my flame—the eyes of a predator. My eyes adjusted to the dark until I could make out its shape. A water lion, its ruffles fully puffed, teeth pulled back in a snarl. It’s scales glinted in the flickering light, and I panicked. I ran full-sprint to my hole and desperately climbed back onto the surface. I rushed back onto the beach. I stood, panting at the light of the dying flames.
I added some more biomass and sat down. I was so fucked. I was so fucked. Of course, the water would be guarded by one of the most dangerous predators on this planet. What was I going to do? What was I going to do?
I choked on my tears. Why me? Why even give me dehydrated meals when I couldn’t make them? Eating them raw would take my water, and then I’d die of thirst.
I was tired, cold, hungry, and thirsty, stuck on a small island with a dangerous predator. So, I cried. Even though I knew it would just waste water. I was at my limit.
I was stranded on an alien planet, thousands of light years away from home, about to die a terrible death. Either eaten by a monster or die from thirst. Which was worse?
I sat there crying by the fire until I ran out of tears. I watched the fire as the sun sunk lower into the sky. Death by thirst, I decided. Death by thirst was the worse way to go. I went back to the hole and pulled up my makeshift rope. I untied the end and brought the damp shirt back to my fire and the lid from the crate. How could I make this work?
