Page 25 of Uncharted

She jumps up on the work surface next to the stove.

“You have a cat. And a stove? Where did you get a stove?” Sam turns, and that’s when he notices the platforms stepping up into the canopy of the jungle and the twine rope hanging down with my latest basket attached. It’s a lot better than the ones before it.

I look up at the top sleeping platform. “Holy crap, is the platform finished?”

“Yeah, Little Bird. What do you think? It’s bloody brilliant, isn’t it?” Zane puts his arm around my shoulder, and I give him a kiss on his cheek. I can’t stop myself.

“You did amazing. You were a bit of a drill sergeant, but it’s fantastic.” I don’t pull away from Zane. I can’t. I would never hurt him. But as my spine straightens, I can feel the captain staring at me.

Zane takes something out of the tote he was carrying. “We have blankets and pillows. And two yoga mats!”

Sam nods. “I thought they might be good for cushions.”

“Yes.” Zane takes a large handful of cloth and darts up the ladder.

I turn slowly. The captain’s blue eyes are locked on me.

“Well, I should go get another load,” I say. “I’ll be right back. To help unload things.”

I’m taking long, fast steps when he catches up to me. “Whoa, you guys have really made the island a home.”

I nod, but I don’t slow or turn to look at him. “We didn’t think we’d ever leave. We’ve hardly seen any ships. And those we have were going the wrong way, or they had their lights off.”

“Pirates?”

When he says it, it gives me shivers. “That’s what we were thinking. From the top of the map tree?—”

“Map tree?”

“The tree with the bits and pieces we know scratched into it. It’s the one that’s the base for the shelter platforms.”

“Right.”

“From the top we can see a string of islands near us, but there aren’t any signs of civilization. No campfires.”

“You seem good. Actually, better than good. More relaxed.” Sam nods and reaches for me but then pulls his arm back.

“It’s crazy that I’m more relaxed now that I’m trapped on an island. I guess that says something about my chosen profession.” Laughter erupts out of me, a short burst of nervous energy.

We get to the tender, and I take another small box. There are only a few things remaining. I pivot and flee. Keeping busy is a lot better than running into the woods and hiding with a cat on my lap. Maybe. Then again, it’s probably not.

Sam catches up to me again. He’s holding one of the small boxes. “Do you know anything about the other raft? Easton asked me if I knew anything, and when I told him no, he grunted and grabbed a box.”

“Rocky made Anders launch the big tender with him and Candy on it. That all happened before I went up to the deck. The tender capsized, and only Rocky and Anders were rescued. We’d drifted apart from them by the second morning. We never saw them again. I thought we might. We watched... but nothing. Calvin hooked a big fish the second day, and as strange as it sounds, I think it pulled us into a different current pattern than them. I keep hoping they were rescued.” It happened so long ago, it feels like a dream.

“Same. But then I was hoping for both rafts to be rescued. Hindsight is hindsight, but abandoning the ship was the right thing to do. I know the Rock Candy is floating upright now in the water, but up until I ran aground, it wasn’t. It took a while for me to get the listing under control too.” He looks away from me, and I get that there’s something else but he’s not saying it. “In good weather, it was a little less, but in bad weather, the Rock Candy felt like a damn sailboat.”

“I can only imagine what the interior looks like.”

“I had some time. I might have done some redecorating.” Sam laughs.

“All of those horse sculptures?” I raise my eyebrows at him. I put the small box on top of the table and head back to the raft.

Sam follows me. “They’re confusing some bottom-dwelling fish right about now.” He stiffens. I turn and see Dante at his other shoulder.

“That’s the only good thing you could have done with them. They were so horrible.” I’m focusing on not looking at him because it’s too hard. There’s nothing left in the tender but a suitcase—my suitcase, or rather, the expensive suitcase that was left on a yacht by a guest a few years back. My suitcase I hadn’t unpacked. The one with all my going-out clothes and my... my personal things. I have them in a small lock box. Okay, not that small. It’s the type you would get at an office supply store, with a little spin lock with a code. And now I can’t remember if it was locked or if Sam would have seen what’s inside. Fucking hell, if he did... I smile. “Wow, you brought my whole bag.”

“I didn’t open it.”

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