Rather than everything gearing down for the evening, it seemed like the darkness only brought things up an uncomfortable notch. The entire island revved up like a machine filled with unseen but scary sounding insects, and weird bird cries punctured the air and kept everyone from falling asleep. The temperature dropped, and everyone’s bodies, finally finished with the hard labor of the day, were slowly going cold and stiff inside our makeshift bunker.

We each did our best to bundle up with the shreds of clothing we had remaining, and then we put ourselves down in the sand, the cold and damp underfoot mercilessly covered by a thin mat of ribbed palm fronds knotted together. There was no wriggle room. Livvy was on the far end, mashed into the wall of sand and Carl lay next to her. Anthony was beside him, their backs touching, and I lay in Anthony’s arms, one part of me desperate to huddle close for the warmth, the other feeling so claustrophobic I could scream.

In the tense darkness, we listened as another storm gathered momentum to the east of us. In the stillness, Anthony gently caressed my fingers with his. I didn’t resist, but I couldn’t focus. All I could think about was where Todd and Charlie were, and when they came back, who would lay down beside me in this cramped sand hole. It was oppressive. I was exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep. My eyes kept flicking open with every noise outside, every skittish change of the wind, every breath in the lungs of my sleeping companions, who, I hated to admit, were starting to smell.

My stomach hurt. I bounced around the idea that the mussels were bad somehow, that they were going to kill me slowly from the inside, but then I realized the grumbling was because I was still hungry. And thirsty too. Anthony’s hand stroked and stroked and stroked, and eventually it felt like a torture and I yanked my hand away. Things were too tightly packed, there was too much to think about, and it was all too close, and I just wanted to fall sleep and wake up somewhere else, far away from here, in my old life. Or maybe a completely new life.

“You don’t have to hold back, if you want to.”

I pricked my ears.

Carl’s voice sounded disembodied, like it came from the palms above us or maybe even from the stars peeking through the cracks between them.

“What do you mean?” I said. In the darkness, it was obvious that everyone was listening closely. Outside, beetles whirred madly in the forest and the crashing waves seemed to be climbing up the shoreline one scraping step at a time.

“You know what I mean. You’re a young couple and… well, we wouldn’t mind if you needed to, you know…”

The wave of nausea that passed over me this time was definitely not hunger related. What had happened with them in the forest …I had no explanation for, but I was certainly banking on them being as disconcerted as I was afterwards and never mentioning it again.

Anthony scoffed.

“In here? Now? With you both? Um, thanks but we’re good,” he said and pressed closer to me in an effort to put distance between Carl’s back and his.

“Look, we don’t mean any offense,” Livvy said quickly. “Carl and I are just very open, very relaxed about this kind of thing. We’ve all been traumatized by everything’s that happened, I know. But there’s no point being squeamish and weird about these things, right? It’s only natural. And we don’t know how long we’ll be out here for.”

I heard Anthony laughing low under his breath, but it was a cold laugh.

“Well, that’s considerate, but again, no thanks,” he said curtly, and wriggled some more. He was too close again. I hated the couple’s forced familiarity, but I was beginning to think that Anthony’s wasn’t much better. Was it too late to start digging a tiny hole of my own, in the pitch black, with a storm coming?

“We used to be like you both,” Carl was now saying. His voice still sounding so far away. “But it’s funny how impending mortality can make you really take a fresh look at life, and what’s really important.”

“What’s important right now is that we all try to get some sleep,” Anthony snapped. He always used that particular tone of voice when he was uncomfortable. I think he thought it made him sound authoritative. I thought it made him sound brittle.

“Is it a religious thing? Are you both waiting for marriage or something?”

The silence in the pit smothered us like a blanket. The fronds overhead rustled hard as the wind picked up and blew over our shivering bodies.

“Look, this conversation is simply no longer appropriate,” Anthony said.

Carl laughed. “Well, you’re welcome to retire to the gentleman’s lounge for a cigar instead, if you like. Look man, I’m not getting on your case, it’s just that, well, have you noticed the situation we’re in? I think trying to make conversation with your fellow shipwreck mates is perfectly appropriate here.”

“Carl, we all need to sleep. And no, discussing our sex life with two strangers is not appropriate.”

“So it is a religious thing then? You kind of give off that vibe.”

Livvy giggled.

“Are you serious right now?” I could feel Anthony’s body tightening up against mine in anger. “That’s got nothing to do with anything. You don’t have to be religious to not want to have sex in front of other people.”

“Oh? And what about watching?” came Livvy’s voice.

Again our bunker fell silent. The whistling of the fronds was getting higher in pitch. Thunder bouldered off in the distance like something terrible coming for us. I wanted to jump in and say something, say that we had never meant to stumble on them, that it was an honest mistake and that if they hadn’t wanted to be ogled then they should have stopped, should have hidden themselves better, something. If there was any sexual inappropriateness here, it was their fault, not ours.

“That was an honest mistake,” I said quietly, when it seemed like nobody else was going to say anything. The second I spoke, though, I knew it wasn’t quite true. We could have easily looked away, walked on, something.

But we didn’t.

They were right, of course. These weren’t ordinary times. We were squashed together like sardines in a pit on the beach of a remote island and none of us knew how we were going to survive the next few days. It did make it seem just a little less important to fret about privacy at a time like this, I guess.

“Well, suit yourselves. I suppose some people’s defenses are so strong even life or death situations can’t budge them, huh?”

Anthony grumbled under his breath.

“Speaking of defensive,” Livvy said. “Where’s Charlie? And Todd? They must have gone off more than an hour ago.”

Folded tight in Anthony’s arms, I prayed that my body gave no indication that the mere mention of Todd’s name had my curiosity piqued. But I was curious. Very curious. They had casually set off just after sunset without really saying where they were going or why. The pit was silent as everyone went off on their own thoughts of what Charlie and Todd were possibly doing.

It was a nightmare, all of this. I was stuck in a literal sand pit with a creepy free-love married couple, a fiancé who I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to blame or beg forgiveness from, and a head full of thoughts for another man who was at this moment doing something with some other woman. I didn’t want to imagine exactly what he was doing. But then, it was all I could think of. It was only our first night on this godforsaken island and already it felt like my entire world had been twisted and knotted up beyond belief. I wondered how good a life could it have been, if it came apart so easily?

“They’ll come back,” Anthony said. “Let’s just keep warm and keep our noses out of other people’s business, shall we?”

I knew what he was thinking. Todd and Charlie could fall into quicksand and never be seen again and he’d be happy for it. I couldn’t seriously be angry that he was jealous about Todd, could I?

Carl muttered something inaudible and the pit went quiet again.

It was so quiet that when the first drops of rain fell, we could hear each one pattering against the fronds, first softly and then louder until it made a steady, low thrum outside. Miraculously, beside a few stray drops, we remained dry. My fingers were raw from braiding and knotting those leaf ribbons, but it had evidently been worth it. I sat in pleased silence as the wet and noise outside stayed outside.

“Nice work with the roof,” Anthony breathed, and started stroking my fingertips again. I couldn’t explain it, but something about the simple triumph of knowing that we had, in just this small way, beaten the elements made me want to sing inside. Maybe we would get off this island, some way, somehow. Maybe I’d go back home with Anthony, and all of this would just be some hilarious, unbelievable anecdote. And I’d have a spring wedding with a freesia bouquet and Anthony and I would silently forgive each other everything, having learnt our lesson. We’d go back to our lives like people came back from wars – grateful, humble, and silent. This was just the part of the documentary to show how bad it got before it got better. This would pass. The sound of the rain falling on my makeshift roof outside was proof of that, and I felt it deep in my cold bones.

“I’m sorry about everything…” I said to Anthony. He said nothing and simply stroked my brow.

“I’m just happy we’re safe,” he said.

Maybe we’d live here forever. Maybe Todd and Charlie were being washed away out to the ocean as we spoke and we’d simply have to start up our own civilization in this strange Eden, from scratch, Anthony, two Eves and a slightly creepy Adam. Maybe we’d live here for twenty years and forget to speak English and devolve into savages who ran around naked and …wife-swapped. Maybe a rescue boat was on its way to us right now, and everyone in the real world knew we were gone, and were all watching their TVs to see what the latest was.

Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe everyone would die here except Todd and I, and we’d grow lean and tanned on mussels and wild berries and we’d fuck all day long until we both forgot where we even came from.

My eyes snapped open.

Jesus, Ellie, what a terrible thought.

The rain came down hard all around us. A solid, continuous low hum took over until there was nothing else to focus on. I couldn’t sleep, but my exhausted mind unplugged all the same, and went off wandering with the rain serving as a weird soundtrack to eerie images that sprang up before my mind’s eye.

It must have been the trauma, like Livvy said. It must have been all the sun and water and fresh air. What else could explain the fact that as the rain came down pelting all around us, I felt …turned on?

We were all in very grave danger, the world outside was unknown and threatening, death was only a few clear steps away from us. We were lost. Stranded. My stomach ached with emptiness and my hands and feet were raw. And yet, there was still something delicious about it all. We were on a land mass with an unknown name and location. No rules, no buildings or roads or anything made by man, nothing. Just us, as we were now, nothing but the clothes on our backs and the strength in our muscles, a few human pups in a warm nest against the rain. It made me want to… be different. Be new.

Was this the adventure I had been looking for all my life? Perhaps it had never been new relationships or parties or vacations that I was looking for. Perhaps it was here all along, hiding and waiting for me in a smelly dug out hole on a tiny island in the Pacific Ocean. It must have been the trauma that flashed those dark, unthinkable thoughts through my mind. Those thoughts that saw me not just losing control, but flinging it aside with force.

I left my body there, curled up dutifully with Anthony, but my mind went off on its own secret, forbidden adventure. And as though I was taking out some dirty treasure, I took out the memory of kissing him, and relished it. The rain in the storeroom had been a little like this. That moment was now lost; smashed to smithereens and sunk to the bottom of the ocean forever. Or was it?

My mind kept coming back to one point, again and again. I had to split up with Anthony. For him, and for me. No matter what else blew into my brain those weird, lonely hours, the end point was always the same: getting married was a bad idea, and as soon as possible, I needed to end it all.

When I stopped trying to resist the thought, my shivering body let go, and I fell asleep easily.