I squeezed her fingers as another black splodge appeared, following the first.
Then another and another. “I’m sure it’s fine, Pip. But let’s get closer and see.”
The little girl fought my pulling, but I didn’t let her go. Circumstances like these—when facing a new challenge—were best done together.
Galloway suddenly laughed. “Holy crap.”
“That’s so cool.” Conner ran toward the closest blob, his fear completely eradicated. “How awesome is this?”
Galloway jogged (with a slight limp) after Conner. Together, they hovered over the creature hauling itself up the beach.
“What? What is it?” Pippa strained to see.
My eyes finally made sense of the non-descript animal. “I know what that is.”
Pippa squirmed to chase her brother. “What is it?”
Galloway turned to grin. “They’re turtles. Lots and lots of turtles.”
I gaped at the carpet of turtles making their way up our stretch of sand.
After months of being on the island, we hadn’t seen any creatures apart from an odd lizard, snake, and occasional seagull. However, we’d suddenly become a zoo. “What are they doing here?” More black shapes hoisted themselves from the warm water, coming to meet us with a sheer mindedness that gave me goosebumps.
“I’m not sure.” Galloway left Conner crawling beside the leader, and returned to my side. “Perhaps to mate?”
The word mate and the implication of what that entailed twisted my tummy.
He cleared his throat as the silence between us became heavily potent. “Or to lay eggs. They do that on land.”
Pippa freed herself from my hold. “I like turtles.” Taking off, she headed for her brother, her stuffed kitten dangling in her hand.
Galloway and I tensed. We weren’t alone, but there was enough distance to conjure the same electricity and jolting awareness demanding to be acted upon.
We kept our eyes trained on the children, even as our hands stretched out and our fingers interlocked without a word.
The second we touched, I ceased to breathe. I became nothing more than neurons and hormones, desperate to finally claim him.
Pippa tried to push past Conner. “Is it a turtle? I want to touch the turtle.”
Conner caught her as she darted around him. “Wait, you have to be gentle, Pip.”
She stuck out her tongue. “I am gentle, noodle head.”
“Noodle head?” Galloway snickered, catching my eye. “That’s a new one.”
Over the past few months, the children had hurled obscenities, slowly becoming more and more creative. Any word, if said in the right connotation, could become a surly curse.
I should know. Galloway was a master at muttering simple phrases but with rage that painted my cheeks.
“Come on, we better supervise.” Galloway tugged my hand, and together, we caught up to Pip and Conner, sharing in their excitement.
Respectful of the creatures, we didn’t talk loudly. Preferring to watch the giants of the sea trade the grace of swimming for manual labour of flippers on sand.
The thunder slowly stopped its threatening rumble, heading away while the turtles took their time climbing ashore.
We paced beside them patiently. I counted eight, with more appearing behind us.
A few minutes later, as more arrivals appeared, Galloway said, “There has to be close to sixteen or so. What were the odds that their nesting ground was our tiny island?”
I didn’t know how that made me feel. Awed that we had the honour of being the birthing safety of such ancient creatures or extremely sad that it was far enough away from human and predators that their age-old process hadn’t changed.
How long had this island been untouched, unnoticed? How much longer would it remain so?
Another month?
Two?
A year?
Was it possible to go our entire lives in this day and age and never be found?
My throat closed up as my thoughts careened down a chute of depression.
Balling my hands, I forced sharp nails into my palm.
Stop that. Galloway is stronger now. We have a home.
Soon, we would be free to look at methods of leaving on our own merits. We no longer had to wait for nature to heal us. We could find our own way back to society...somehow.
“What are they gonna do?” Conner whispered as the lead turtle stopped a couple of metres from the treeline. Soft sand glistened in the darkness as large flippers scooped and flung a shower of grains over its shell.
I waited for Galloway to mention mating (had the children had the sex talk before the crash?) but he paused.
Scratching his beard, he frowned. “Um, how much do you guys know about the miracle of life?”
“Miracle of life?” Conner snorted. “Come on. I’m thirteen. I know what fucking is—”
“Ah, ah, ah!” Galloway slapped his hand over the boy’s mouth. He narrowed his eyes at Pippa. “I don’t think we need such talk in front of ladies, do you?”
Conner pulled away, his smile cocky that he knew something Pip might not.
The little girl blinked in confusion, never taking her eyes off the line-up of hole-digging turtles. “What are they doing? What’s fucking?”