The end was nigh, but he’d known it all along.
Ash had spent the morning searching every inch of the island for any traces of rainwater, but they had dried up some time ago.
Between the two of them, a half-empty glass bottle was all the fresh drinking water that remained. They would have no choice but to ration it.
Three days had passed since Ivy’s near drowning, and she had been eerily silent.
She had retreated inside her shelter, barely making an appearance, and her absence had created a tension that Ash couldn’t possibly ignore.
Now that the water had dried up, it was a survival of the fittest.
It was a game Ash had no intention to play, but one of them was doomed to pick the shortest straw – and it was only a matter of time.
Locked in silence with only the thoughts inside his head, Ash was mentally battling with himself more so than ever. He was trying to conjure up a plan of action, but the situation was out of his hands. It had been that way from the start.
Ash’s eyes began to flicker as the heat drained away his energy, but they soon shot open at the sight of white sails.
There was movement on the horizon.
A boat, perhaps only a half a kilometre away.
Ash pulled himself onto his feet, feeling adrenaline sear through his veins.
The sea vessel – a catamaran – was travelling slowly, at maybe only fifteen knots. The boat appeared to be leisurely cruising through the Coral Sea, or maybe it was crewed by people scoping the islands, as if they were searching for something.
Hope swelled up inside, but like a pinprick to a balloon, it deflated in seconds.
There were no military markings on the vessel, but there was an Australian flag etched on the side of it.
Crewed by Australians, no doubt.
He had been on the verge of signalling the vessel, in the hopes it would come to his rescue, but now he was hesitating. Ash had misled the enemy before, but concealing his nationality for a second time would be considerably harder.
However, it was also the first boat he had seen in weeks. Ash knew he’d be dicing with his fate, but it was worth the risk.
Keeping half an eye on the boat, Ash raced across the sand and towards the campsite. He found Ivy sitting on the edge of her shelter, with her head down. Ash quickly ducked into his own shelter and pulled out his swag of prized possessions, and slung it over one shoulder.
He then put one arm around Ivy’s waist and helped her up from the ground.
“Hey!” she cried. “What the hell are you doing?”
Ignoring her questions and pressing on at the task at hand, Ash dragged Ivy a fair distance away from the campfire and put her down in the sand.
“Are you insane?” she barked. “What’s going on?”
Ash darted back to the campfire, leaving her screeching by the shore.
He risked a glance out in the distance. The catamaran was turning north – away from the island. No. He couldn’t let it get away.
Standing just a foot away from the fire, Ash grabbed a partially lit branch from the glowing coals and let the flames build as he lifted it into the air. Without a second thought, Ash tossed the branch on top of his own shelter.
It caught alight, angrily devouring the ferns. Sweating from the intense heat in close range, Ash ignited the second shelter and then watched as it spread to nearby trees. Finally, he stood back and watched as smoke billowed towards the sky.
A hand fell over his shoulder.
He jumped; jerking his head around to see Ivy had made her way back to the campsite. Although she could not see what he had done, no doubt Ivy could hear the fire growing with intensity.
“Ash?” she said, her voice weaker than ever. “What’s going on?”
There was no time to give a reply. Besides, his mobile device had lost all of its battery just one day ago, making communication significantly harder.
Turning his head out to sea, Ash watched the boat. Surely they would see the fire and investigate? As the seconds ticked by, the flames grew higher. He and Ivy had to step away, closer to the shore, as the fire was well and truly out of control now.
Gazing out in the distance, Ash could barely believe it as the boat began to turn.
The catamaran sharply changed course, and within minutes, it was heading straight towards the island.
Now that the boat was heading in his direction, Ash caught a glimpse of the people standing on the stern. Men. Two of them.
Worst of all, they carried rifles across their chests. Ash’s world came plummeting to the ground as the realisation hit hard.
The men could kill them with just one bullet.
And they were still standing in the open – like targets waiting for an arrow.
Ash grabbed Ivy by the arm and pulled her along as he rushed to find a hideout. With an inferno to the right of him, Ash had no choice but to turn left and hide amongst the untouched trees. He ducked down behind shrubbery, forcing Ivy to crouch down with him. The cracks appearing, Ivy was left hysterical.
“What the hell is happening?” shrieked Ivy, pounding a fist into Ash’s back.
Desperate for a way to communicate, Ash found himself slapping a palm against a tree trunk, consciously trying to tap out Morse to her.
There is a boat. It is coming this way.
“Are you serious?” she asked, her tone changing instantaneously.
Yes. I lit the shelters on fire and got their attention.
“But is it us...or them?”
Ash understood what she meant, but he would never give an honest answer. Ivy would always be his bargaining chip, because no doubt she would turn on him if she knew the truth. She would never see forgiveness, nor would she give mercy.
Without hesitation, he tapped out,
Enemies.
“Shit,” she winced. “Why did you get their attention? They’ll kill us on sight.”
I will fight them if I have to. I would rather die fighting the enemy, than die stranded on this island.
“But how can I defend myself when I can’t bloody see?”
Fight like you did when you first met me. They will not stand a chance.
Ivy looked like she wanted to smile, but under the circumstances she couldn’t.
I need your knife.
“Wait, what-? I need it more than you, Ash. How else can I fight?”
If you trust me, you can trust I will protect you.
She opened her mouth to dispute it, and then closed it. Ivy reluctantly pulled the weapon from her boot and gave it to Ash.
Keep quiet. They are close.
Ivy nodded just as Ash peered through the trees to check the catamaran’s location. Now less than a hundred metres away, the boat was edging closer to the beach. Ash could tell the armed men’s attention was squarely on the raging fire – and he could use that to his advantage.
The boat was just fifty metres from the shore when it dropped its anchor.
Ash watched as the two men walked up and down the length of the boat, seemingly talking amongst themselves. Finally, the sandy-haired man removed his rifle and handed it to his balding friend.
They bickered a little more, before the sandy-haired man stepped towards the back of the boat and jumped into the water. He then began swimming to the shore. The balding man, however, stayed behind.
Ash frantically tried to work out his next move. The sandy-haired man seemed to be unarmed – making him the easiest target – but Ash didn’t want to fight. He wished to get off the island as cleanly as possible.
After battling against the waves, the sandy-haired man made it onto shore. His eyes were fixated towards the fire, before jerking his head to the left. Ash ducked down into the shrubbery again, wondering if he had been spotted.
A minute passed and Ash risked another look. By luck the sandy-haired man had turned his attention to the right side of the island as he ventured along the beach, before disappearing out of sight.
Taking a moment to catch a few deep breaths, Ash peered over the shrubs and focused on the boat once more.
He had a plan in mind – distract the other man, force him to leave the boat, then commandeer the vessel without being detected, leaving the enemies stranded.
Ash’s plan was anything but simple, but with a bit of luck he might just be able to pull it off.
While the sandy-haired man was gone, Ash saw a narrow window of opportunity to lure the balding man away from the boat. He considered making an appearance – baiting the enemy to leave his post – but no doubt Ash would be shot at on sight.
Thinking quickly, Ash did the only other thing he could do.
He gently tapped Morse against the palm tree so that only Ivy could hear.
I need your lighter.
Ivy didn’t even speak as she pulled her lighter from her top pocket and handed it to Ash. Almost holding his breath, Ash mentally prepared himself for the quick getaway. Ash sealed one hand around Ivy’s, and then used the other hand to strike down the gears. Ash put the lighter and its naked flame on top of a pile of leaf litter. Just as it caught alight, Ash pulled Ivy away and sought refuge behind fallen boulders.
The fire quickly spread, growing fiercer as it crackled and popped amongst the trees.
Ash peered out from the boulder and looked towards the boat. The secondary fire had caught the balding man’s attention, but he remained still.
The man hadn’t left the boat. Ash needed to take a new approach. Looking down at his feet, Ash picked up a rock and hurled it as far as it could go. It smashed against a tree, echoing out into the open.
After only hesitating for a few seconds, the balding man – still holding onto his rifle – walked off the back of the catamaran and dropped into the ocean. He held his gun above his head as he waded through the water, desperate to keep the weapon from becoming waterlogged. He started kicking his feet and used one arm to paddle towards the beach.
Soon enough, he stepped out onto the beach, dripping wet but armed with a gun.
Ash felt his lungs tighten, accepting that he was well and truly outmatched now. He remained in his hiding spot, still clutching onto Ivy’s hand.
As his friend had chosen to explore the right side of the island, it only made sense that the balding man would pick the left side.
Ash kept his head down, silently praying that they wouldn’t be found. To top it off, the second fire was heading towards the first. If the fires merged, it would only be a matter of time until flames engulfed the entire island.
Footsteps were growing louder. Ash had to seal a hand around his mouth in an attempt to silence his heavy breaths. Fear consumed him. He snapped into survival mode, pulling Ivy’s body closer to his.
If they were found, he would fight. He had been through far too much to die now.
Footsteps only metres away, they almost stopped dead in front of the boulders. Then, with a pivot in the sand, the footsteps started up once again and walked straight on by. The balding man, still clutching his gun continued on his way down the left side of the island, before vanishing from sight.
Once both men were out of vision, Ash pulled Ivy onto her feet and ran. Almost stumbling over his own feet, he guided Ivy towards the beach and took her down to the water. Holding onto her, Ash helped her into the water and hoped that she would swim with him. She almost screamed as the first wave came barrelling into their waists, but Ivy kept her composure and held onto Ash.
The boat bobbed in the distance, almost beckoning to him.
He held his swag over his shoulder in an attempt to keep its contents dry. Once they’d swum beyond the breaking waves, Ash kicked his body into overdrive and moved his free arm like a propeller as he raced towards the vessel.
Now just metres away, Ash spat out a mouthful of salt water and looked behind him – the enemies were nowhere to be seen.
When Ash first placed a hand on the back of the catamaran, the moment seemed surreal.
He’d made it. His harrowing ordeal was almost over.
Ash pushed Ivy up and helped her onto the back of the boat, and then he pulled himself up.
“Ash, are we safe?” asked Ivy, her voice cracking slightly.
There was no time to reply. They had to keep moving. Soaking wet, Ash tossed his swag down onto the ground and quickly retracted the anchor from the depths. Ash then looked back to the island – there was still no sign of either men through the towering trees – but it probably wouldn’t be long until they returned.
“We’re on a boat, I know that,” said Ivy, “but are we safe yet?”
Ash could barely concentrate as she badgered him with more questions, so he guided her to take a seat at the back of the boat. He rested a hand on her shoulder as if trying to comfort her, but he had no time for a conversation as the vessel remained idle.
Ash entered the control room and stood behind the steering wheel, searching for the start button.
His insides knotted when he realised the control system required a thumbprint to gain access.
Ash tried his own thumbprint on the ID scanner. Of course, it was denied.
He started turning the place over, looking for an instruction manual or perhaps a means of overriding the control system – he found nothing.
Ash couldn’t get the boat to start.
Worse still, the anchor was already up and starting to drift in the wrong direction.
Just as he turned around to reassess the situation, a body lunged out of the water and snaked an arm around Ivy’s neck.
She was pulled overboard and dragged back into the ocean.
Her scream only lasted a second, followed by the sound of bodies thrashing about in the water below. Ash darted to the back of the boat and looked down.
The sandy-haired man had returned. He had Ivy in a headlock as he wrestled her under the water. He held her down. She tried to break free from his grip, but Ivy had been rendered powerless as her lungs filled with water.
Ash didn’t even think twice as he threw his legs over the railings and jumped overboard. He dropped down like a pin. Once wading water, Ash pulled the knife from his belt and swam towards the enemy.
The sandy-haired man’s attempt to drown Ivy would be all for nothing, as he’d failed to recognise the greater risk – Ash, wielding a weapon.
Throwing one hand around the man’s torso, Ash swiped the blade across the enemy’s neck. There was only a faint gurgle of life before he let go of Ivy and fell face first into the ocean.
Clouds of crimson began to pollute the water as the lifeless body floated by the boat. Unfazed, Ash reached out towards Ivy as she desperately gasped for air.
“Ash!” she cried, heaving heavily. “What just-?”
He put a finger over her lips, silencing her mid-sentence. Ash then guided her towards the boat and lifted her back onto the stern – before the vessel could drift any further.
Ash was about to climb back up himself, but then stopped. He needed a thumbprint to start the boat, and the solution to his problem was still floating in the water.
Once again, he dived into the water and swam over to the body. He grabbed the deceased by the foot and dragged him back to the end of the boat. Ash pulled himself out of the water first, and then hoisted the body in after him.
Blood still flowing from the open wound in his victim’s neck, Ash readied himself to make the next cut as quick as possible. He lifted the dead man’s arm and laid it down on the ground and hovered the knife above the thumb. Suddenly, a tattoo on the man’s inner arm caught Ash’s attention – it was the emblem of one of Britain’s biggest football clubs.
He wanted to put it down to coincidence, but suddenly a horrid thought crossed Ash’s mind – had he mistakenly killed his own kind?
Seeking an answer, Ash ripped open the man’s shirt to reveal more tattoos – including the Royal Arms, inked in the middle of his chest.
He mouthed a curse word.
Ash feared he had taken the life of a British soldier – but there was only one way to know for sure. All members of the British military, be it air or sea, were chipped before deployment. A microchip had been inserted under the skin behind Ash’s neck, and if the man lying before him had an identification chip too, it would be all the confirmation he needed.
Ash put his hand behind the corpse’s neck and ran his fingers over his slippery skin.
And then he felt it. The chip was there. Ash had killed a member of his own military.
Sickness swelled in the pit of his stomach. His hands began to shake. A mixture of guilt and sorrow triggered a second wave of adrenaline as he came to terms with reality – there was no taking back what he had done.
“Ash?” gasped Ivy, sitting on the ground just a metre from him. “What just happened? Are you OK?”
He had made a foolish assumption. Ash had seen the Australian flag etched on the side of the boat and had naturally presumed the crew were of the same nationality.
But no, he had been wrong.
Ash looked back to the island. Although he was still nowhere to be seen, the balding man with the rifle was more than likely a British soldier too.
Should he drop the anchor again and wait for his return? He could try to justify the situation to his comrade, but without a voice, he’d probably be killed long before he had the chance to explain.
To make matters worse, Ash had killed the soldier to spare Ivy – an Australian.
If he had just let the sandy-haired man kill her, then Ash would’ve been free. He would’ve been reunited with his army, but now it seemed like an impossibility.
He could try to blame the soldier’s death on Ivy, but no doubt she would speak the truth, and in turn his lies would be unravelled. He even thought about killing her – because maybe it was the only way to fix the damage done – but of course he couldn’t do it. His conscience would never allow it.
How could he hide or conceal his mistake? Ash would be dismissed from service for his dishonourable act and punished.
One fatal error had turned his world upside down.
Maybe the sandy-haired soldier had even known Ivy was an RAAF pilot? There was even a possibility that the soldiers had been sent out in the boat to look for him, yet he’d misread the situation, and now the rescue mission had ended in disaster.
Ash had slaughtered his own kind, to spare the real enemy.
The boat was still drifting. Ash had to make a split-second decision.
“Talk to me, Ash,” whimpered Ivy, holding a hand over her neck. “Somebody attacked me, but you saved me, didn’t you?”
Although it went against every fibre of his being, Ash would continue as if nothing had changed. He was in too deep to turn back now.
Bringing the knife back to the fallen soldier’s thumb, he sliced it off and then rolled the body off the back of the boat. The corpse bobbed lifelessly in the water. Ash was no stranger to death, but this time? He felt sick to his stomach.
Pushing through his nausea, Ash walked back to the control room and took the severed thumb over to the ID scanner. He pressed the thumb onto the identification pad. Access granted. The boat’s engine came to life, along with the touchscreens.
Ash saved his own thumbprint to the dashboard’s memory and tossed the sandy-haired man’s stumpy thumb overboard. Next, he put the boat into gear, setting course for the mainland.
He turned around to see that Ivy had climbed back onto her feet again, but fell back down onto the deck as the boat began to move forward. Ash helped her to a seat. She began firing questions at him, but Ivy quickly fell into silence as the sound of gun shots echoed out.
Ash jerked his head back to the beach to see the balding soldier had returned to the shoreline, firing his rifle directly at the boat.
Keeping his head down, Ash racked his brain for his next move. The balding man had probably seen his friend dead in the water, and naturally, it was only instinct to avenge the fallen.
Just then, Ash remembered that one rifle had been left on board the boat.
Ash quickly scanned his eyes around the vessel, spotting the weapon leaning up against the wall in the corner of the control room. He clasped his hands on the gun, pumped the forearm and prepared to retaliate.
However, he had no intent to kill a second soldier. In his mind, he hoped returning fire would be enough to make the balding man retreat to safety, but then Ash realised it wouldn’t be sufficient.
He remembered about the diary he had hidden on the island. Now that Ash had committed treachery, he never wanted a living soul to read what he had written – including his fellow comrade. If he dared to leave a loose end, it would be his demise.
Ash would have to shoot to kill.
Besides, giving the soldier one fatal bullet was far kinder than letting the man die from starvation and thirst.
The nausea returned as Ash stood on the boat and took aim at the soldier. With just one shot, Ash hit his target. The man’s body jolted back in a spray of red as the bullet hit him squarely in the chest.
He stood on the stern and allowed his mind to process what he had done.
As the island began to shrink on the horizon, Ash knew the life he once had was gone for good.
“Ash?” cried Ivy. “Please, talk to me. What’s going on? Are we safe yet?”
Ash tapped his hand onto a metal pillar, giving a brief message to Ivy,
Three quick taps. Three slower taps. Three quick taps.
She winced at the sound of his SOS, knowing they weren’t in the clear yet.