Tsunami

My thanks to whoredinarygirl for editing.

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Day One;

We had been climbing for almost an hour; my sister had complained for most of the way, and I was beginning to regret that I had talked her into coming along. Giving in to her whining, I agreed to a short rest at a small out crop.

The view was breathtaking, overlooking the cove where the sloop was anchored, Mom and Dad sunbathing on the foredeck, tiny islands sprinkled here and there, with a backdrop of blue ocean as far as the eye could see.

Crystal was the first to notice it, barely visible to the naked eye. Pointing, she asks, "Hey Royce, what is that?"

I peer in the direction she indicates and reply, "Looks like the ocean to me. What of it?"

"Of course it's the ocean, smart ass. I mean that dark line," she says, with worry in her voice.

I turn to look at her, and the expression on her face was not idle curiosity, but genuine concern.

Looking back toward the ocean, I can now see what she's talking about. I quickly shed and open my backpack, digging out my field glasses; I do a quick, sweeping scan of the horizon.

I told my sister, "There's no mistake, it's a tsunami!"

I started yelling down toward the sloop, waving my arms frantically and pointing out to sea in a futile effort to warn our parents. Unable to understand my screaming or discern my intentions, they merely waved back.

There was nothing of reference to gauge the wave's height, but I knew that even a small one would be devastating. I also knew it was traveling at hundreds of miles per hour and would be upon us in minutes.

The world closed in around me, and everything seemed to go into slow motion as I snapped into survival mode. I grabbed my sister by the arm and started dragging her, kicking and screaming, to higher ground.

Finally, I slapped her, grabbed her by her shoulders, and screamed, "Do you really think we can reach them? And if we could, what would we do? There's no time! Look!"

The wave visibly swelled as it approached shallow water and the outer islands, completely washing over some of the smaller ones, and now, a distinct ocean roar could be heard.

As we watched, the first indication our parents knew something was amiss, was the sloop swinging seaward on its anchor chain as the tiny cove started to drain.

Within moments, as they attempted to reach the safety of the cabin, the small craft sat on the sea floor where fifteen feet of water used to be. As we looked on in horror, the wave slammed into the cove, and the sloop disappeared as it crashed onto the beach.

Crystal cried out with an indescribable grief, as though her soul was being torn from her body. I could only watch, my mind reeling, too numb to feel anything and not wanting to. Nothing could survive the kind of raw power on display below us.

Sweeping away anything in its path, the water continued to rise as it bored into the low-lying areas and stopped only a few yards below the safety of our position. The water seemed to boil around us, growing quiet before it roared into a rapid descent toward the sea, leaving debris scattered everywhere.

Crystal collapsed to the ground, crying uncontrollably. I walked the few steps back to the outcrop, where we had previously been, and surveyed the carnage.

What I beheld was unbelievable, trees, rocks and boulders, some as big as cars, strewn all along the beach. There was no sign of the sloop, except for broken bits and pieces. My legs were trembling and head swimming, trying to grasp what my eyes and heart were telling me. Our parents were gone.

I raised my fists and, without words, bellowed my defiance to the heavens. Crystal soon appeared beside me as heart-wrenching grief overtook me, and I crumpled to the ground. We clung to each other and cried for untold minutes.

Ultimately, after both of us regained some semblance of composure, Crystal asked through her tears, "Shouldn't we look for Mom and Dad?"

"No, we can't chance it," I told her. "There could be multiple waves, and we don't want to be caught on the beach." I had no sooner spoke the words and looking seaward, could see a second wave approaching.

As it mauled the outer islands and crashed ashore below us, it carried with it, tons of debris that had been washed out to sea from the first wave and the sound, was even more intense. Waves three and four followed around fifteen minutes apart, completing the destruction. The silence afterward was almost deafening, broken only by our sobs of grief.

Eventually, looking toward the sky, I said, "It will be a clear night, it's warm and high ground will keep us safe. We have enough water for now, although we need to think about conserving what we have until we find a freshwater source."

I rose to my knees and rested on my heels, turning to face Crystal and grasping both of her hands, I said, "We are all alone here. Help will not arrive for days, if at all. The rental boat came with a satellite phone; Dad was good about calling in our present GPS position and the location of our next destination. When the news of the tsunami reaches civilization, rescue efforts will organize and deploy hundreds of relief teams."

Pausing to gather my thoughts, I then continued, "I would assume the rental company would notify authorities about the sloop, if for no other reason than insurance claims. Kind of morbid, isn't it?" Crystal nodded her agreement and listened quietly as I continued.

"Survival is our paramount concern; first, our supplies will be limited to what we have and are able to find. Second, would be shelter, however, it will be getting dark soon, so tonight, we'll have to rough it in the open. Tomorrow, we can check out our options concerning shelter. For now, we had better take inventory of what we have with us."

I emptied my backpack on the ground; three bottles of water, two sandwiches I had prepared earlier, two granola bars, a fire starting kit, a magnifying glass, a butane lighter, a zip lock holding cotton balls soaked in Vaseline, a first-aid kit, a survival blanket, and knife; the field glasses still hung around my neck.

"We only have a couple of hours of light left and need something to build a fire. We'll find dry wood from here up, so let's get busy." We both started scrounging for pieces of wood, twigs, dry moss, and leaves. Soon, we gathered plenty, what I figured would last until morning.

Wanting to conserve the other supplies for cloudy days or nighttime, I cleared off a patch of flat rock, and with what sunlight was left, started a fire using the magnifying glass. As the sun crept below the horizon and from slowly adding larger pieces, we had a nice campfire providing warmth and comforting light in the darkness.

Huddled close to the fire, sharing a bottle of water and eating our sandwiches, Crystal asked, "Do you think Mom and Dad could have survived?"

"I don't know." Not really believing my own answer, but hoping to console her for the moment.

"Are we going down in the morning," she asked.

"Yes, there may be things we can use," I answered.

"Are we going to stay down there?"

"I think we'll have to. We can't make this climb every day."

"What if we find Mom and Dad?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." I wasn't really wanting to think about that.

"Royce, I feel so scared and lost. What are we going to do?"

"Bottom line? Survive, the best way we can."

Crystal scooted up against me, knees drawn; arms wrapped around them and leaned her head on my shoulder. I wrapped the thin survival blanket around us as we sat staring at the fire, consumed by our own thoughts. Ultimately, sometime during the night, sleep came.

Day Two;

I awoke the next morning during the predawn light; the fire was out, Crystal's head resting in my lap. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her face streaked from tears; yet, looking so innocent and vulnerable. I stroked her hair as she slept, wondering how I was going to take care of her; how we were going to get off this wretched island, and if rescued, what then?

Returning to civilization would bring a ton of personal and legal issues. Settling our parents' estate, dealing with relatives and lawyers, and a myriad of other unforeseen issues. Worst of all, trying to rebuild our lives without the love and guidance of our parents.

As these terrible and sobering thoughts ran helter-skelter through my mind, I felt Crystal stir. I looked down to find her staring up at me, and she asked, "What are you thinking?"

"Two things, actually. Next time, you're the pillow!" She had to laugh.

"And the other?" She inquired.

"I just noticed; you have the most amazing blue eyes I've ever seen."

Crystal reached up and gently touched my face. Her hand was soft, warm and loving, then she said, "Sometimes; I actually think I like you." And we both laughed.

After sitting all night and desperately needing to stretch my aching muscles, I helped Crystal to a sitting position and slowly stood up, then reached down and helped her to her feet.

Feeling an urgent need, I stepped behind a tree to pee and Crystal cries out, "Hey, what about me?"

Still in the midst of a strong stream, I lean around the tree, while wiggling my eyebrows, I reply, smiling, "You can join me if you want to; otherwise, the bathroom is occupied!"

With the morning ritual completed and walking toward the backpack, I told her, "Your turn." She disappeared behind the tree, as I repacked our gear. When she returned, I simply said, "Now for the hard part," and slowly started heading down to the cove, with Crystal close behind.

It was slow going around the tangled devastation, uprooted trees and rocks lay everywhere. We gathered ropes, pulleys, canned food items, a large piece of canvas torn from the sails, anything of use from the shattered sloop. Always dreading the thought of finding a body and finding none.

It was almost noon before we stopped to rest. I opened a large can of peaches we had found; we ate them with our fingers, sharing the juice and creating a sticky mess. Although the shoreline was cluttered with debris, the water had cleared overnight. We waded out to our knees and cleaned ourselves off.

Looking out to sea, I noticed storm clouds in the distance, and said out loud, "This may be our lucky day."

Noticing where I was looking, Crystal commented, "Oh great! My brother has lost his mind and thinks a storm heading our way is good news! How, may I ask, is this lucky?"

"Fresh water," I replied, "We need to gather all the containers we can find: jugs, bottles, cans, pots, pans, anything at all to capture the rainwater. Get your ass moving, we may not get another opportunity like this." Without another word, we ran back to the beach.

Crystal was a great scavenger, finding a couple dozen containers and, much to my surprise, improvised catch trays to maximize our efforts; all the while, I set up a makeshift shelter roof with the scavenged canvas and gathered wood for the night's fire.

Remembering various episodes of survival reality shows and with little time remaining, I arranged several bowling ball sized rocks under the canvas and with Crystal's help, dragged a large piece of the sloops' interior cabin floor on top of them. This would help keep us dry and away from the tiny bugs that live in the sand.

When the rain started, we watched the runoff from the canvas spill into our first few containers, exchanging them for empty ones as needed. We drank the life-giving liquid freely, and digging through our new-found supplies, we shared a can of spam.

I was aching all over from the night before and using my backpack as a pillow, I stretched out on the cabin deck and motioned for Crystal to join me. She immediately snuggled against me, resting her head on my shoulder. I covered us with the blanket and sleep quickly overtook us.

It was still dark when I awoke; the rain had ended, but had brought a slight chill to the air. Crystal was securely tucked against me and sleeping peacefully. Her femininity was very apparent; I could feel her nipples as her firm breasts pushed against my side and the warmth of her breath upon my chest. Her arm lay across my stomach, clutching herself close, and seeking warmth. I could sense the heat of her mound as one leg draped over my thigh and could smell a trace of her scented shampoo, which still lingered in her hair. I wrapped both arms around her and pulled her tight, selfishly savoring the touch of her body, as we desperately clung to one another.

Her breathing changed, and I knew she was awake; she never moved and, after a few moments, quietly whispered into the dark, "I'm glad you're here. I wouldn't have survived and would have been washed away with Mom and Dad, if you hadn't asked me to go with you."

"I'm glad you did. I don't know how I would have handled all this, if I were alone. Don't take this wrong, but you being here forced me to think of someone else; otherwise, I may have just given up; so, in a way, you saved me," I said softly.

"Do you think we need to build a fire?" Crystal asked.

"I kind of like it right here, for now," I replied, giving her a squeeze.

Crystal grunted under the pressure and then said, "Me too."

We both talked quietly, for what must have been hours, listening to the sound of the surf and enjoying the comfort of being in each other's arms. Feelings, which we had never shared in the past, were gradually surfacing to a point we could express them without ridicule or embarrassment; until, once again, we drifted off to sleep.

Day Three;

It was daylight when Crystal shook me awake, saying, "Hey, sleepyhead! Come on, get up, look what I found! I'm starving, do you think we can cook them?"

Once my head cleared, I raised up on one elbow and saw she was holding a soft-shelled crab between two fingers.

"Ugh," I exclaimed, shaking my head, "it's not worth the effort."

"And what about these?" she asked, holding up a plastic milk crate, containing at least a dozen more, and beaming with excitement.

She continued, "There were hundreds of them scurrying everywhere. I ran around like a crazy woman looking for something to put them in and found the crate hung up on a tree over there. I thought about using my shirt, but figured that would give you too much of a thrill," and we laughed until our sides hurt.

The mood was almost festive; Crystal pranced around, proud as a peacock, while I started a fire. Earlier, we found a cooking pot, now filled to the brim with rainwater, large enough to boil our meal.

We drank our fill from the pot, not wanting to waste any of the water, and placed the remainder over the fire. Once it reached a rolling boil, I slipped four crabs into the water.

Crystal asked, "How long do we let them boil?"

"I'm not sure; seafood doesn't take long. I'd guess for about ten minutes," I answered.

"I saw another piece of decking over by where I found the crate, we'll need something to put them on. I'll be right back," she called over her shoulder as she headed toward the uprooted tree.

I watched as she walked away; her body was tanned, lean muscles flexing as she strode across the sand, curves in all the right places, her long brown hair blowing in the breeze and remembering how exquisite she felt lying against me the night before.

I openly stared as she returned with a piece of wood tucked under her arm about the size of a TV tray. As she approached and keeping her eyes on me, she knelt beside me in the sand, smiled warmly and said, "Penny for your thoughts."

Hesitatingly, I responded, "In all honesty, being your brother; you may be appalled at my thoughts!"

"Since we're being honest, what would you say, if I were thinking the same?" She countered.

I couldn't move; I couldn't speak; I could barely think! Did I hear what I thought I heard? Does she know what I'm thinking? Is it that obvious or can she somehow read my thoughts?

Without warning, Crystal placed her hand against my cheek, leaned forward and kissed me. Resting back on her heels, she then said, "We'll continue this discussion later. Right now, let's eat!"

Returning to earth and using two slender sticks as tongs, I placed the crabs on the small piece of wood and put four more into the boiling water; explaining to Crystal, cooked meat will keep longer.

We ate like primitive tribesmen; ripping off chunks with our teeth, spitting out what we couldn't chew, juices dripping from our chins and elbows, talking with our mouths full and laughing as if we hadn't a care in the world.

When we had finished, we washed off in the surf and returned to the small fire, continuing to cook the remaining crabs, when Crystal said, "You seem to be pretty knowledgeable when it comes to survival. Did Dad teach you this?"

"Not everything, the majority was in the military. The job included 12 weeks of survival training, being dropped off in some remote location and learning how to live off the land." I answered.

"I remember when you joined eight years ago, I was only thirteen. You were an overgrown pain in the ass and at the time; I thought, good riddance."

"And what do you think now?"

"There's a possibility you might be worth keeping around!"

"Only a possibility?"

"Yeah, ask me later; right now, the jury is still out!" She quipped and then asked, "What did you do in the military?"

"Oh, marched around and saluted a lot; you know," I mumbled, stirring the crabs.

Instantly detecting that I was evading her question, Crystal snapped, "I thought we were being honest with one another; out with it!"

I looked into those amazing blue eyes and asked, "Are you sure you really want to hear the truth?"

"Yes, always," she whispered.

"You may think differently of me, after hearing it," I said looking at the ground.

She reached out and put her hand under my chin, raising my face until we were looking at each other and said, "Royce, you're the only family I have left; you've thought of nothing but me during all this, there's nothing that could change the way I think or feel, when it comes to you. What is it you're so reluctant to say?"

"What I did in the military, is the reason I'm here today. I was a sniper; a pleasant term for paid assassin. I don't know how many people I've killed; although, each face haunts me. Just do your job, they'd tell me, and I'd kill again. Others would say; it gets easier with time, and I'd kill again. But they lied. Each mission became more gruesome, entire families became targets: mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, wives; children became acceptable collateral damage. I started to fall apart and the military psychiatrists recommended I be discharged."

I looked at Crystal for her reaction; although, she said nothing; I saw only love in her eyes.

I continued, "Dad knew; I asked him not to tell anybody, especially Mom or you. He arranged this vacation, hoping to restore my faith in mankind, regain my humanity and rejoin the living; I was in a terrible and dark place, lost and dead inside."

Tears were streaming down Crystals face, "He never said a word," she said quietly.

Looking around at the landscape, I continued, "Our parents are gone, devastation surrounds us, little food, even less water and rescue is uncertain. Funny how things work out; with all that's happened, I've found a reason to go on."

Turning to look at her, once again, becoming lost in her eyes, I said, "It's you. Without knowing it, you saved me. You gave me someone to protect and keep safe; to hold as close as I can, to love unselfishly. It's something I've not felt in a very long time."

As my tears came, Crystal embraced me, and I wept bitterly. I wept for our Mom, our Dad, our situation; however, mostly, I wept for me. The pent up and entangled emotions slowly drained from my body with each sob and tear; not until each horrible act turned into a blur, and the dead, staring eyes faded away, did I stop weeping.