Partners in Paradise
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2015 by harry lime

Fiction Story: Chapter 7 - In the midst of war, 2 survivors try to stay alive behind enemy lines hoping that time and fate are on their side. starting this story again after a long delay. Apologies to readers. Please be patient.

Caution: This Fiction Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Military   War   Humiliation   Rough   Sadistic   Torture   Gang Bang   White Female   Oriental Male   Anal Sex   Cream Pie   Exhibitionism   Oral Sex   Safe Sex   Voyeurism   Water Sports   Clergy   Public Sex   Nudism   Violence  

The light of day stole into the cave and they both looked into each other’s faces with the realization that this was the first day in a long, long time that no shouts could be heard from the enemy camp on the beach.

At first, Patrick thought it was a mist in the atmosphere that was wandering into their tiny entryway, but after a few deep breaths, he determined it was a clear white smoke from some unknown origin that wafted into their underground hideout.

He was fairly certain it was only burning paper and wood that caused the pollution. The Japanese had never been fond of poison gas except for some questionable experiments in Korean POW camps and he doubted the military forces moving from island to island had any interest in such nonsense for tactical advantage. In an event, they could not do much about it and their best course of action was to do nothing until they could be certain the invaders had actually left the island for good.

Sheila was using the spare water in the back of the cave to cleanse her skin from her scalp to her toes. It would have been far better to head up to the waterfall and let the falling water pound out all the dirt and grime from her battered pores. He had spooned her the night before, but it was more to shelter her and keep her protected from the cold night air than for any reason related to relieving the tension in his limbs. She had always been quite welcoming to him giving him the opportunity to blow off some steam in simple cuddling and with no danger to infringing on her private dignity.

“We can head up to the waterfall right after we confirm those sons of Nippon are off the island once and for all.”

She looked over at him and patted his hand telling him,

“Thanks, Patrick, those wayward souls certainly gave me a hard time in ways that I still don’t believe that humans would do to another of their own species, but I will pray for their salvation because I instinctively suspect they will need it a lot more than us in the very near future.”

It never failed to surprise him how forgiving and accepting Sheila was in her compromised situation in enemy hands and he marveled at her ability to “turn the other cheek” just like it said in the good book.

Off in the distance, the sound of some sort of naval battle was filling the air with thunder that sounded like some faraway storm. He knew the storm was a firestorm of artillery fire that was able to sink huge battleships with crews of hundreds and that it was a scene repeated more than once in a small area of conflict that would go down in the history books as the greatest sea confrontation of all time. The fighting would go first in favor of one side and then the other, giving the advantage to one and then quickly switching and favoring the other side like a random shift of wind from an unknown quarter.

Sometimes on a stormy night, the bodies and other flotsam would wash up on the north shore and they had to bury them deep in the sand because the odor would be far too depressing. He wondered if the recently encamped contingent of the Emperor’s forces was caught up in the fiery maelstrom on the horizon. If so, good riddance to them, because they deserved to go right down to the bottom of Davey Jones’s locker.

The sounds of the battle faded into silence and strangely, the sun broke through the mist with thee vengeance of a scorned woman. It served to cheer them up and give them the courage to slowly crawl from the cave and search the deserted camp for any left behind edibles. No luck in that area except for the spilled rice from a broken sack near the boat launch cove. They scooped it up along with some sand and Patrick shouted out,

“We can sift it out with the cheesecloth later to get the sand out. I think we got enough for rations for both of us for a full week.”

It was surprising how long a little bit of rice lasted even when one was hungry all day long. A little bit of fish pieces and they would have a meal fit for a king. Well, at least fit for a pair of hungry castaways on an uninhabited island in the South Pacific. They gathered the broken wood into a pile to use for a signal fire if any allied ships passed close by.

Then, Sheila looked at him and he saw it was time for them to head to the waterfall and let her wash away all traces of her captors from her body and hopefully from her mind.

The sound of a single aircraft engine drifted down from a lofty height and Patrick spotted a small recon plane circling far above the clouds. His thought was that it could not accomplish much scouting from that great height but it must give the pilot the satisfaction of knowing he was far above any attempt of some sharpshooter from trying to shoot him down with small arms fire. The low flying scout planes were often shot right out of the sky by a lucky shot from a high caliber rifle. It was lucky that they were already in the vegetation and were able to blend into the background and shadows of the foliage. If they had still been down on the beach, they would have been spotted right away and a report might have been sent to bring a patrol boat out to investigate.

Patrick was not as concerned with the spotter planes as the possibility of one of the longboats of the nearby natives swooping in to take them prisoner for undignified torture before becoming the evening meal for the entire tribe. He had seen them in action before and it was not a pretty picture to imagine one sitting inside a pot for some captured human stew to bolster the native’s dietary plan.

 
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