Semua Bab Stranded on an Island with Mr. CEO: Bab 11 - Bab 20

Ariana’s POVThe sun was officially a bully. After our weird conversation about my age, the atmosphere between us had turned as stiff as one of Mr. Coop’s starch-pressed shirts. He didn’t look at me anymore, at least not in the eyes. He looked at the sand, at the trees, or at the survival bag, but it was like I had suddenly become a fragile porcelain doll in his mind."I'm going to take my turn," he said abruptly, standing up and dusting the sand off his sweats. He didn't say where he was going, but he pointed toward the rocks where I had bathed earlier. "Stay here. Keep an eye on the solar still. If you see a bird trying to land on the plastic, scare it away.""Yes, sir," I muttered, leaning back against the tree. I watched him walk away with that purposeful stride of his. Even in the middle of nowhere, the man walked like he was heading into a board meeting.While he was gone, I checked the solar still. The little cup in the center had a few more teaspoons of water. It was barely en

Ariana's POV I didn't sleep well. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Mr. Coop sliding down that rocky slope. The sight of his blood on my hands had done something to me. It made the island feel less like a temporary setback and more like a bad guy waiting for one of us to slip up.The morning sun was already heating up the tarp when I sat up. Beside me, Mr. Coop was already awake. He was sitting at the edge of the shelter, staring out at the signal we’d built on the beach. He looked stiff. I could tell his side was killing him where he’d hit the rocks, but he wasn’t saying a word. The bandage I’d fashioned from my shirt was a dull brownish color now, dried with his blood."How is the arm?" I asked, my voice still raspy from sleep.He didn't turn around. "It’s functional, Intern. We have more pressing matters than a scrape."I rolled my eyes. Back to being the "Ice King.""Functional doesn't mean okay," I muttered, crawling out to join him. "We need to check it for infection. If you g

Nathaniel's POV The weight of the bamboo canteens was a satisfying ache because it was hope for the coming days. As we trekked back toward the beach, the sun began its descent, casting long, skeletal shadows across the jungle floor. I led the way, my side throbbing with every step, but I kept my pace steady. I couldn't show weakness.Behind me, I could hear the rhythmic slosh of water and the Intern’s heavy breathing. She was carrying her share without complaining, which was more than I could say for some of the senior analysts back at the New York office."You're remarkably quiet," I said, not turning around. "Usually, you have a comment about the humidity by this point.""I'm busy trying to breathe, Mr. Coop," she panted. "And trying not to trip over these vines. Some of us weren't raised in the Appalachian wilderness, remember?""You're doing fine," I said. I paused to let her catch up, leaning against a tree to take the weight off my ribs. "Your idea for the bamboo was efficient.

Ariana's POV "Over here! Hey! Look down!" I was screaming until my throat felt like it was bleeding. I was jumping, waving my arms so hard my shoulders ached, pointing at the pillar of black smoke rising from our signal fire. Next to me, Mr. Coop was just as desperate. He had the first flare gun raised high, his jaw set in a hard, grim line. Pop. The flare shot up, a brilliant streak of red light that hissed against the darkening sky. It hung there for a few seconds, a lonely star in the middle of the Pacific. We both froze, holding our breath, watching the tiny speck of the plane. It didn't tilt its wings. It didn't circle back. The steady sound of its engines didn't change pitch. It just kept moving, a small, uncaring dot heading toward a horizon we couldn't reach. "No," I whispered, my arms dropping to my sides. "No, no, no..." "Look at the smoke!" Mr. Coop bellowed at the sky, his voice cracking. "It’s right there! How can you not see the smoke?" He fired the second flare.

Ariana’s POV Coming back to our "camp" after the storm was like walking into a crime scene. The blue tarp was gone—well, not gone, but shredded into thin, useless ribbons that whipped around the trunk of our tree. Our solar still was smashed, and the "HELP" sign we had spent hours building looked like a giant had stepped on it and kicked the pieces into the surf."It’s all gone," I whispered, feeling that familiar weight of defeat in my chest.Mr. Coop didn't say anything. He just stood there with his jaw tight, his eyes scanning the wreckage. Thankfully, he didn't look as defeated as I felt. He looked like he was already calculating how much "man-hours" it would take to fix it. He was still wearing the gray thermal top, but he’d discarded the bottoms for his original trousers."The supplies are safe," he said, nodding toward the small hollow under the tree roots where we’d stashed the bag. "That’s what matters. We rebuild.""With what?" I asked, gesturing to the tattered blue plasti