Page 77 of Lieutenant

I can barely talk now, thanks to screaming and my swollen, cracked lips, but George, at least, can understand me. I manage to tell him about an episode ofMythbusters, where they dug a hole in beach sand, stuck a container in the bottom, and used a plastic tarp over the top to condense water.

They find one patch of ground above the high-tide line that might work. George and Collin use scraps of metal they scavenged to start digging, and three hours later, they have made a bowl in the bottom of the hole with one of the mylar blankets folded to catch the most water, and weighed another blanket around its edges over the top of the hole. I’m afraid to use one of the bottles to catch the water, even with the top cut off, for fear that we might position it in the wrong place. We can’t see inside with the top blanket over the hole.

By the end of the day, we’ve collected almost a full bottle’s worth of water.

It’s…something.

We set it to the side.

Now, it’s me and George both sitting up and taking night watch.

The crabs return.

I’m the first one to spot that, and George grabs a paddle and starts whacking, waking Allen and Collin in the process.

We end up with twenty this time, and I manage to keep two down, and give one of mine to Connie.

I still can’t walk, though. I’m too weak.

* * * *

By the early morning hours of day nineteen, I’m unable to keep much down. George and I had fallen asleep. We awaken to find Lisa sitting in the surf, laughing, and drinking sea water cupped in her hands. When he tries to grab her, she fights him, until he finally stumbles back and gives up.

He doesn’t have the energy to expend to try to save her.

Allen and Collin try to talk to her, and she ignores them.

Connie sits there watching and cries.

I’m not…doing so hot. We’re really rationing water like crazy now, because we haven’t seen rain in two days.

Lisa is the first lady of Alabama, and fifty-nine years old.

She eventually crawls out of the surf and collapses facedown on the ground.

George and Allen get her rolled over and, with Collin’s help, drag her up past the high-tide line.

She never regains consciousness. I keep an eye on my watch and George checks her pulse every thirty minutes.

Somewhere between five-thirty and six that evening, she dies.

I don’t even try to eat any crab that night, and make the others take my share, especially George, since he moved around the most today. My secret purse stash of water is long gone, and without any rain, our little makeshift water catcher won’t keep up with demand.

We have maybe three days of water left.

* * * *

By late afternoon of day twenty, I haven’t been able to stand in six days. Seven?

I don’t know now.

George stays close to me, and any time he sees me try to move toward the water, he forces me back to the raft.

Now, he sits against the outside of the raft with me propped against him, always keeping an arm around me so he can feel me if I move. He tries to keep me shaded as much as possible.

I’ve started talking. Connie’s asleep inside the raft with Collin. Allen is sitting on the other side of the island, keeping watch.

Now I understand why Sarah started talking.