She found a few sticks, but none that would really work. The wood was too soft, or too thin. She looked at her walking stick. Maybe if she tied her knife to it? Nah, it would still be too dangerous, and she would lose her only weapon.
My gun! Duh! Can't believe I forgot about that. She pulled it out of her holster and aimed at the creature in the water. The right shot could take him down immediately. Then she'd have to get him out of the water, because....
Does he have friends? Her hand wavered. Didn't matter; she had to risk it. For meat. For life.
She held her arm steady, body straight. The alligator held her gaze, unafraid, unaware that she was about to end his life.
End his life. Again.
How many deaths would be on her head when this was over? Would the alligator feel pain? Would it die fast or slow? Could she eat a creature that she'd made suffer?
Her arm lowered, her body refusing to do what her mind tried to convince it was right. The alligator blinked, then sank back into its watery home as if it had all been a test, and he her teacher. Had she passed or failed? She didn't know.
Her stomach growled, proving that on some level she had failed. Hunger chewed through her, gnawing at her insides.
The sun lowered. It would be dark soon, and she had to get back to camp, but what would they do without food?
She walked downriver toward what she now knew was the ocean, and spied a group of trees that looked familiar. She searched, thinking they might be banana trees, but all she found were fat green leaves that would surely look appealing to some creature, just not her—not without a high-speed blender and some strawberries.
She kept walking, frustrated and starving, and finally stepped onto the sandy beach. She wasn't too far from camp, but far enough to require a short rest. She leaned against a tree, giving in to the despair and loneliness that had been fighting her all day.
Salty tears leaked down her face. She missed her bed at the mansion, and the other kids, and of course Sam. She'd hoped to be there for the days leading up to the birth of Ana. She was just so lonely—a longing that Luke's presence couldn't fulfill. She wanted to share herself in a way she never had, to find an intimacy she couldn't get from Luke or Sam. She wanted what Sam had with Drake.
Well, before he became a douche bag and left her. Better to be alone than fall in love with an asshole.
At least she didn't have to suffer the kind of pain Sam was going through. She couldn't even imagine that agony. Still, the comforts of home, the friendships and showers and food—she missed these things.
Will we ever get off this damn island and back to our own life?
Something hit the side of her head and shattered her thoughts. "Ouch!" She put her hand to head and saw blood. "What the hell?" It didn't seem too severe, just a bit of a lump and some dizziness.
She drew her gun and looked around, and couldn't decide whether to laugh or curse when she saw her assailant. A coconut lay a few feet away, a bit of her blood smudged on its surface. Attacked by fruit. Real ni—
Fruit?
That refocused her. Coconuts were a complete nutrient. She'd heard that coconut meat and milk, blended with a banana, came very close to the nutritional make-up of mother's breast milk. She had no idea how she knew that—probably something Sam had said in all her motherhood reading—but still, mother's milk was the perfect meal. Even without bananas, coconuts could get them through this ordeal quite nicely.
She grabbed the one that had attacked her and studied it. How the hell was she supposed to get it open? She slammed it against a rock, and milk splashed all over her, along with bits of shell and meat. Using her knife, she dug out the soft insides and ate what she could. Once she'd finished, she identified more in the tree. If she could get them down, she and Luke would have plenty of food while they worked out a plan.
Hope blossomed in her.
She sheathed her knife, pulled out her sweatshirt and spun it into a tight rope, then wrapped it around the tree and used it to shimmy up to the top.
The climb went slowly, with her feet slipping a few times, but eventually she got high enough to cut down several coconuts. When a small pile rested under the tree, she climbed down and shook out her sweatshirt, then created a carrier and stacked a load of coconuts in it.
She couldn't carry them all, but what she had would get them started, and she could come back for more when they got hungry. The tree sat close enough to the river that this would be a good "cafeteria" for them.
The coastline wound its way west, and Lucy followed the setting sun toward the original location where they'd washed up. It was time to make camp and get some food in Luke.