Lost At Sea

Chris could not sleep and could not help himself but think about what he had done. Why had he done it to begin with? He did not know that, but he knew he had lied to Scarlett. Now, he felt like an asshole.

Not everything that he had told her had been a lie, of course: She had indeed been very fast asleep, nearly unconscious in a way, if you wanted to put it like that. And yes, the sky had begun to darken earlier then Chris had expected. Maybe he could have woken Scarlett up if he really had tried, maybe it would have sufficed to shake the girl hard or pinch her or talk some louder words. He was not sure anymore because he had not really made an effort.

Of course there was no way to explain that to Scarlett without causing a freakout. But it was all so damn complicated! How was Chris supposed to explain to her how he had stared at the girl and how he had found that he was so confused and that she was, in a way, beautiful how she lay there between the ferns. How was he supposed to explain how he had stared at her like a infatuated fool, just lost in his thoughts of how he wanted to protect her and how he needed her, without sounding like an idiot?

And he was not a careless man either: Chris thought back to how he had contemplated if he could make her position more comfortable for her, how he had checked on her arms and had found that they were still okay - so he had decided to leave them in their bonds exactly as they were, for the time being.

Did Scarlett really think that he did not care about her comfort or well-being? He had wanted to wake her up in the afternoon, but she had just slept so soundly and looked so peacefully, even with her lips quivering around the gag. So he had decided to just give her some more time. He had collected more water and more fruits. But meanwhile his bad conscience had grown. Part of him had insisted that he was taking a risk for weird reasons. That part of him had insisted that they would have to make camp at the lake if he waited much longer, and that Scarlett would have to spend the night in bondage. And that rational, sane part of him had of course won the battle. Chris had approached Scarlett to finally wake her up, and surely that's what he would have done.

But then, one of the Natives had returned.

It was the older of the two Natives who Chris had seen already before, the one with the spear. He was by himself this time, standing only a few meters away when Chris turned around. While Chris felt the blood in his veins turn to ice the other man had not shown any emotions at all: He had only stared at Chris, then had lowered his glance to Scarlett. Chris did not know if he only imagined it or if it was true, if it could be true, but the man had, he thought, had something like respect in his glance. He had pursed his lips only slighty and then said something under his breath, in his own guttural language.

"She's... she's mine." Chris had not known where that had come from, but it seemed an appropriate thing to say. The man had looked at him, a bit astonished, and answered briefly in his own language again.

Chris had sounded nervous the first time, his voice had been a little insecure. Now he shook his head, anger and a certain kind of frustration welling up from deep inside. He had been surprised by the sound of his own voice.

"I said she is mine", he had repeated, pushing his claim. And the man seemed to believe him this time, because he nodded again with what Chris suspected (but could not be sure) was more respect. Then the Native had turned around and walked away, but not without gesturing for Chris to follow him. And Chris - still not without fear of suddenly being hit by an arrow or a spear - had summoned all his courage and followed him. That decision had turned out to be a good one, because the Native had shown to Chris something he would never have found by himself. Something he would never have hoped to find. The Native had watched him as he studied his discovery and had, without doubt, seen how agitated and anxious Chris had become. This message that someone - most likely Daniel or Hendrick - had carved into the tree was remarkable. Chris felt as if the blood in his head had been replaced with sparkling water.

The Native had given him something before he left. Well, not given to him since he seemed not interested in coming too close to Chris. He had left the item for him, hanging from the branch of a nearby bush. Then he had left Chris alone, and Chris had been tortured by his bad conscience, by conflicting thoughts about right or wrong, by the notion that he was, after all, still going insane.

He wanted to help Scarlett and he wanted to get her out of the bondage as soon as possible. He wanted to do the right thing and be a good man.

He also did not want to go back to the beach without answers, not if there as a chance to find them soon and so close nearby.

One day, the hardly decipherable letters had said. Only one day and there might be the answers he was looking for. Only one day, but if they returned to the beach now the Natives might see that as a sign of weakness, might never again accept him as a visitor to their lands.

The realization of how long he had lived the life of an already-dead man came to bear with all its weight on Chris now. The taste of the fruit, the smells of the forest... the feeling to be free once again, after having been a prisoner for so long, was wonderful and terrifying at the same time. Did he really want to take the risk of returning to the beach, possibly without a chance to ever leave that damned wasteland again?

In the end he had made up his mind, still with a bad conscience but also with a certain determination. He would do what needed to be done, because it was better that way for Scarlett and him. What would be achieved if they just returned to the beach with enough food for a day or two or three days at max?

He had known that Scarlett would not like his decision. So he had decided that he would need to break it to her slowly, bit by bit. And even then there was a good chance that she might lose trust in him and freak out. So what could he do to prevent that?

This was the moment when he had thought about using the leaves for the first time. His knowledge of their capabilities was sparse, but... there was a chance that they would make it easier for him to convince the young woman.

It had scared him that he was ready to go to such lengths and trick Scarlett in such a way, but finally he had given up to argue with himself. It needed to be done. Scarlett had told him she needed him to be the guy who does what's necessary.

And Chris did not plan to disappoint her. So he had only waited and counted the minutes while the sky had continued to darken. He had used the time to collect some of the leaves and he had prepared the balm.

All in all, things had worked out fairly well. Here he was, lying in the dark with Scarlett close to him. She was already asleep, that much he was sure of. And tomorrow they would both get up early and he would try to explain to her what needed to be their next step.

She would understand it, Chris was sure about that. She was a rational woman and she knew she could trust him. All would be well.