Stranded

Eric hated company retreats. They were supposed to be about bonding and relaxation, but all he could think about was how much code he could’ve written in the time he’d spent making small talk with coworkers. The cruise ship, though luxurious, felt more like a gilded cage than a vacation. As he stood on the deck, nursing a drink and staring at the open sea, he let out a heavy sigh. “You’re going to wrinkle your forehead permanently if you keep doing that,” one of his colleagues teased and walked away. Eric forced a chuckle, hiding his growing unease. Something about the night felt… off. Moments later, the distant sound of an explosion shattered the evening calm. The deck shook violently as a deafening roar followed. Screams erupted around him as flames engulfed the sky. The ship’s alarms blared, urging everyone to evacuate. “What the hell?” Eric muttered, gripping the railing to steady himself. His drink clattered to the floor as chaos unfolded. Crew members rushed to organize the passengers, but the flames spread rapidly, consuming the ship’s upper levels. The smell of smoke filled Eric’s nostrils as he struggled to find a life jacket. People pushed and shoved, some screaming, others frozen in fear. He managed to secure a jacket and made his way to the edge of the deck. Without thinking, he jumped, plunging into the cold, dark sea. When Eric woke, his mouth tasted of salt, and his body ached as if he’d been pummeled by waves for hours—which, he realized, he probably had. His head throbbed as he struggled to sit up, sand sticking to his face. Blinking against the harsh sunlight, he took in his surroundings. Endless ocean stretched to the horizon, while dense jungle loomed behind him. The realization hit hard: he was stranded. His stomach growled, reminding him of how long it had been since his last meal. As he lay back on the sand, the memory of a juicy hamburger floated into his mind. In his delirium, he could almost taste it—the soft bun, the melted cheese, the tangy ketchup. A faint smile played on his lips as he stretched out, imagining he was in some cosy diner instead of… wherever this was. “Ahh! You p*****t!” The scream jolted him upright. He blinked, trying to process the scene in front of him. A young woman stood a few feet away, her face red with anger. Her damp dress clung to her curves, and her dishevelled hair suggested she’d also endured a rough night. “What?” Eric croaked, his voice hoarse. He followed her gaze and froze. His hand had somehow ended up pressed against her chest. He yanked it back as if burned. “I… I was dreaming! I swear!” Eric stammered his face heating with embarrassment. “I thought… I thought I was eating a hamburger!” Her glare intensified. “A hamburger? That’s your excuse?” “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” he said, raising his hands defensively. “It wasn’t on purpose. I didn’t even know you were here!” The woman crossed her arms, her posture radiating mistrust. “You’d better keep your hands to yourself from now on,” she snapped. “And stay away from me.” “Fine by me,” Eric muttered, brushing sand off his clothes. He glanced around, taking in the situation. They were both alive, which was something, but there was no sign of rescue. Just endless beach, jungle, and water. “Any idea where we are?” he asked, trying to sound neutral. The woman shook her head, still eyeing him warily. “No. I just woke up here, too. What’s your name?” “Eric. You?” She hesitated. “None of your business.” Eric raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. He knew she was still annoyed by the incident. Instead, he stood and began assessing the beach. The woman watched as he pulled a small Swiss Army knife from his pocket and used it to hack open a coconut lying nearby. It had fallen from the coconut tree next to it. He drank deeply, savouring the fresh water inside. “You’re just… drinking it like that?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. “What else am I supposed to do? Wait for room service?” Eric shot back, his patience wearing thin. “We’re on a deserted island. Survival comes first.” The woman didn’t reply. Instead, she walked to the shoreline and began writing large “SOS” letters on the sand with a stick. Eric shook his head. “That’s not going to work,” he muttered. She whirled around, glaring at him. “Excuse me?” “Planes fly too high to see something that small,” he explained. “And tides will probably wash it away by tomorrow. You’re wasting your energy.” Her eyes narrowed. “And what would you suggest, oh great survival expert?” “Focus on staying alive,” he said simply. “We need water, food, and shelter. That’s what matters right now.” She scoffed. “Typical. Of course, you’d say that.” Eric’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned back to the task at hand, cracking open another coconut and gathering its juice in an improvised container made from its shell. He could feel her eyes on him, filled with disdain. By the time the sun began to set, Eric had collected a small pile of coconuts and was searching for driftwood to use as firewood. The woman, meanwhile, continued to hover near her “SOS” signal, occasionally shooting him dirty looks. His irritation grew, but he bit his tongue. As night fell, the temperature dropped. Eric built a small fire, its warmth a welcome comfort against the cool ocean breeze. The woman sat a distance away, her arms wrapped around her knees. She shivered but didn’t approach. “Suit yourself,” Eric muttered under his breath, lying back against the sand. Exhaustion washed over him, and his eyelids grew heavy. Just as he was about to drift off, he heard her voice, soft and hesitant. “Do you really think no one’s coming?” He opened his eyes and looked at her. In the firelight, she looked smaller, more vulnerable. For a moment, he considered lying to comfort her. But that wouldn’t help either of them. “I don’t know. Maybe, not soon enough,” he admitted. “But we can’t count on it. We’ll have to figure this out ourselves.” Her expression hardened again, but this time, there was a flicker of resolve. She nodded, though she didn’t say anything else. Eric closed his eyes once more, the crackling fire lulling him to sleep. Despite their differences, he had a feeling they’d have to rely on each other more than either of them wanted. As the firelight dimmed, Eric closed his eyes to sleep and did not catch the silhouette of something approaching them.