Stranded: Beneath The Endless Sky

Chapter 2

Elias looked at her—really looked this time.

The woman standing before him looked completely out of place here, like some runway model dropped into the middle of a disaster movie. Her long black hair was messy and wet, sticking to her shoulders. She was curvy, and with her swimsuit torn, everytime she moved, her chest bounced slightly.

Elias felt his face heat up. Something stirred in his boxers, and he quickly looked away shifting uncomfortably.

She looked like a rich heiress—maybe one of those spoiled, pampered daddy’s girls who’d never known anything tougher than a broken nail. She had that softness in her eyes, the kind that said she still believed rescue helicopters would come flying in with warm blankets and champagne.

Elias almost laughed. They were stranded on some godforsaken island in the middle of nowhere, and she looked like she’d walked off a yacht magazine cover.

They were doomed.

Elias dusted off his cargo pants and stood up. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Why should I tell you anything?”

He scoffed. “Because I just woke up groping you on a mystery beach after our cruise ship exploded, and I figure knowing your name is the least weird part of today.”

No response.

“My name’s Elias.”

She stared at the horizon like he hadn’t spoken at all.

He shook his head and started walking. “Fine. Silent beauty it is. Let’s see how long that lasts.”

Elias began to pat down his clothes, checking his pockets. Most of his things were gone—wallet, phone, room keycard. All useless now, anyway. But to his surprise, his waterproof cigarette lighter was still clipped to his belt loop. Even better—his trusty Swiss Army knife, strapped to his thigh, had survived.

Thank God.

“We’re stuck here for now,” Elias said, turning to face her as if she hadn’t already figured it out. “We need the basics - shelter, water, and food. That's the reality.”

She shot him a glare “That’s not true,” she muttered, though she didn’t seem to have any idea how she would convince herself. “Someone will come. They have to.” Her voice wavered slightly, as if she were trying to convince herself more than him. “There are search teams. The coast guard. They know about the ship. They’ll come. We’re not the only ones out here. People are looking for us—someone will find us.” She paused “We just have to hold on a little longer. Help’s coming.”

Elias scoffed, dismissing her hopeful words. He had no time for wishful thinking. He didn’t even want to entertain the idea of someone flying in to pluck them from the middle of nowhere. Survival was the priority now, and he had to focus on that.

His first instinct was to look for water. His mouth was dry, his body felt thirsty from the swim and the heat. He grabbed his Swiss Army knife from his belt, running his fingers along the sharp edge before carefully tucking it away.

He needed to make sure they could stay hydrated. As he moved toward the closest palm tree, he glanced back at the woman, she was still sitting in the sand, her focus on the distant horizon.

He crouched down and grabbed a fallen coconut, cracking it open with a few quick strikes from the knife. Fresh water spilled out. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough for now. He looked at the woman, then back to the trees.

“You should help,” Elias called out, his voice matter-of-fact. “If you want to survive, you can’t just sit there waiting. This is real.”

The woman’s eyes flickered over to him, and he could see the disdain in her gaze. She didn’t move, but her expression shifted from fear to a kind of silent contempt, as if she thought he was overreacting.

Elias ignored her and went about his work, collecting more coconuts, using his lighter to create small fires to dry out some of the fruit for later.

Meanwhile, she seemed to get an idea. Elias watched her from the corner of his eye as she stood up with determination. She marched to the edge of the beach and began scrawling in the sand with a stick, forming large, lletters.

S.O.S.

She paused, surveyed her work, then added more to it—bigger letters, clearer signs. Elias rolled his eyes, already knowing what was coming.

Elias let out a short laugh, not pausing in his work. “Look, we’re stranded on an uncharted island . No one knows we’re here. The cruise ship sank in the dark of night, with no distress signal sent out. And even if a plane happened to fly by, what are the odds they’d spot a tiny sand message from miles up? We’re on our own.”

The woman didn't answer immediately, but Elias could see her jaw tighten. She flicked a glance back at him, but instead of responding, she simply turned her back and continued her task, enlarging the letters.

“I’m not saying it’s impossible,” Elias said, his tone was cool. “But it’s not realistic. We don't need some sand message that’ll get washed away with the next tide.”

She didn’t stop. Her hand moved faster, the scratches in the sand becoming more frantic. She was determined, and for a moment, Elias almost admired her persistence. Almost.

But he quickly dismissed the thought. It didn’t matter. In the end, they would survive based on what they could do for themselves, not on wishful thinking.

Elias checked the coconuts again, his muscles were sore from the effort. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been stranded, but it felt like hours had passed.

As he moved toward the palm trees, he heard the woman mutter something under her breath. He didn’t catch the words, but it sounded like frustration. Elias glanced back, catching her expression. She had stopped writing in the sand and was now looking at him with an air of superiority, as though his actions were beneath her.

Elias ignored her, he didn’t care if she thought he was some heartless bastard. Survival was all that mattered now. He couldn’t afford distractions, especially from someone who clearly had no idea what real struggle looked like.