Chapter 15: The Island

"Tracy?" Brandon tried to wake his sister, who lay face up on the beach, the chest of her exhausted body moving slowly up and down, letting him know that she was still alive.

"Speak to me, Pip-squeak," he called softly, praying that she'd survived the ordeal of swimming from the reef, across the lagoon, then crawling up the beach, all without swallowing too much of the Pacific Ocean. There was a growing element of panic in his need to bring her back to consciousness. And once he had accomplished that, there would still the matter of seeing what shape Celeste was in.

Giving his entire attention to the woman carrying his baby, Brandon rested a hand gently on her swollen belly, and was instantly rewarded by the sensation of their baby kicking. A feeling of partial relief flooded his consciousness. The baby had survived, at least, although his attention was now divided between the condition of his sister and a low groan from behind him. He rolled over on the sand to investigate further, as his lover struggled to regain consciousness.

"Angel? Are you okay? Where does it hurt?" he asked futilely, for the older of the two women still wasn't fully cognisant. But she did respond by raising an arm, bent at the elbow. Only once she had did Celeste grant herself the luxury of letting it drop back down again.

"I'll live," she finally managed to respond, "unfortunately. Gawd, I feel like something that was washed up on a beach!"

"If I said you were, would you believe me?" he tried to rouse her with a stab at something approaching humour.

His words had an effect, but not in the way he'd hoped. Celeste struggled to overcome her exhaustion. As her brain fought its way out of the fog she still felt inside, her first concern was her sister-in-law, with the resulting panic of not knowing whether Tracy had survived or not.

"Tracy? Sweetie?" Celeste's tone of fear chased over the man laying next to her as it searched for the third member of their crew.

"She's alive," Brandon tried to assure the panicky woman, "and so's the baby. I think she cut her foot on the coral, though. Are you going to be okay if I go find something to bind that gash with? Maybe I should just let her sleep for a while. It looks like the salt water has stopped any infection. How about you? How are you doing?"

Celeste started to sit up, then was overcome with both nausea and an uncontrollable coughing fit as her body tried desperately to expel more of the sea water she'd ingested. Brandon lightly slapped her on the back as he tried to help clear her airway.

"Shit," she cursed as control of her breathing slowly returned, "I think I drank half that fucking lagoon! I'd kill for some fresh water, right about now. Do we even have any?"

"Maybe back on the boat," Brandon informed her, "but I haven't had time to look for any on this island yet. I don't know what to suggest, Angel. I was too busy trying to save our sorry asses to worry about how the hell we're going to survive. Gawd, I think I let both of you down, big time. Can you forgive me?"

The memory of their collision with the underwater reef came back to Celeste as more of that fog slowly lifted in her mind, with an accompanying question as to the extent of the damage to the Gon Waki 2.

"How bad is she?" she asked, not yet able to focus enough to assess the state of their ocean home that lay somewhere near the lagoon's entrance.

"She's done, I'm afraid," Brandon gave her the bad news. "When we hit that reef, it opened her up like a tin can. If she's not too deep, we might be able to salvage some of the stuff on her, but she's not going anywhere on her own."

"We've got to get Tracy off this beach and under some shelter," Celeste turned her attentions back to the welfare of her sister-in-law. "I sure hope you can move her, though. Just breathing is more than I can manage. I'm going to be useless to you for a while."

"Let me check for broken bones, cuts, bruises, or anywhere that needs bandages or stitches," Brandon pleaded. "Unfortunately, our ship's doctor is kind of out of it, so you'll have to put up with me until she comes to."

Celeste lifted her head to look at the sand around her, still feeling too weak to move anything else of her body.

"I don't see any signs of blood," she observed, "so I'm not leaking. My right arm hurts like hell, though. Think I broke it again? Goddamn that Darryl! Of all the things to break, he had to pick that right arm, didn't he?" she referred to the incident back in Chicago that had been so instrumental in bringing her into Brandon and Tracy's lives.

"Just lay back and relax," Brandon commanded as he moved to her other side, then began to run his hands gently the length of her arm. Only after checking its entire length, as well as the rest of her, did he release his findings.

"Can't find anything broken, but you've got some pulled muscles, I think, and probably more than your share of bruises. Those, I can't do much about. We'll just have to give them time to heal on their own, but until they do, nothing strenuous for you, Young Lady."

"No cuts or gashes?" she enquired of him.

"Nope. Looks like you might live, after all," his relieved tone let her know.

"Damn!" she exclaimed. "I was beginning to look forward to another good shot of that anaesthetic Scotch, too."

"You mean the stuff in a bottle that's at the bottom of the lagoon? That stuff?" he enquired of her, his worry now in check, and his tone a lot lighter than it had been before they found themselves heading for that damned reef.

"Some Captain you turn out to be," she moaned, more out of frustration than anything else. "The most important thing on the ship, and you let it go to the bottom? If I survive this ordeal, I'm going to mutiny!"

"If you do, you'll get thirty lashes for trying," he snickered in an effort to buoy her spirits a little more.

"That's all?" she joined in his suggestive humour. "Only thirty? Gawd, you're a real sadistic creep!"

Suddenly feeling a burning need to emotionally connect with his crew member, Brandon leaned over and kissed her lips, and their intimacy grew into something more passionate. With each lash of his tongue on hers Celeste became more insistent for his kiss.

"Not quite what I was thinking of for water, but your kiss is a magical source of the moisture I need, and it works wonderfully," she explained. "Got some of the salt out of my throat. Talk about a double bonus. Relieved my throat, and made my toes curl to boot. Who'd have thought, huh?"

With that, she smiled warmly at him, then lightly brushed his lips once more. Their recuperation was interrupted by Tracy's own coughing fit, interspersed with groans of discomfort as she, too, fought to regain consciousness. With a need to determine his sister's condition, Brandon rolled back over to her side.

"Easy, Pip-squeak," his voice tried to reassure her that she'd be alright, just as long as she gave herself the time to overcome the ordeal. "Where does it hurt?"

"Water," she croaked. "Need water. Can't swallow. Too dry."

"Sorry, Sis, but I haven't found any yet," he apologized, feeling woefully lacking as a provider for the two women.

"Kiss her," Celeste ordered. "One of those wet ones like you gave me."

"What? Kiss her? How's that going to help?" he couldn't believe what she'd just suggested.

"Saliva," Celeste explained. "It'll help moisten her mouth, and once she starts salivating on her own, she'll lose that constricted throat. As long as one of us isn't dry-mouthed, we'll be able to keep each other going until we find water. It worked on me."

Brandon followed his lover's advice and began to kiss his sister's parched lips. At first, she tried to push him away, but as the relief from his saliva eased the dryness of her mouth, Tracy relaxed and let the moisture do its job. As its effects overcame more of her discomfort, she opened to him willingly, until she found herself a little short of breath. Only then did she push him away lightly.

"Damn!" she softly cursed, clutching her swollen belly. "He thinks he's still swimming in that lagoon. Babe, your kid can sure kick," she moaned in her brother's ear as he eased away from her lips.

"Is he okay?" Brandon's worried voice enquired.

"He's fine, by the feel of the way he's kicking," she tried to assure him. "I don't think a little salt water is going to hurt him too much, but it didn't do me a lot of good. I cut my foot on something, though, and all I can remember is how painful it felt. I'm too exhausted to sit up and find out how bad it is. Can you look at it for me? And while I think of it, how's Celeste?"

"I'm okay, Sweetie," her sister-in-law's voice settled any doubts Tracy might have had. "Swallowed half that lagoon, but other than that..."

"I feel fried," Tracy admitted, "but what about the ship? How bad is she?"

"Gone, I'm afraid, Sis," Brandon gave her the bad news. "She sank at the entrance to the lagoon when we hit the reef. Right now, though, let's worry about our own survival. Let me have a look at that foot. You've lost some blood, and I was worried about infection, but between the bleeding and the salt water, maybe that'll be enough of an antiseptic to clean the wound out. If I can find a big palm leaf, I want to bind it up so it can scab over. What else did you do to yourself? Let me check."

Tracy lay still as her brother's gentle hands took inventory, wincing a few times as he found some tender spots, but overall, she felt like she was intact. His main concern was that gash on the sole of her foot, although with judicious cleaning, an inspection revealed that it was nowhere near as bad as he'd originally thought or expected.

"Looks like we got lucky with that foot of yours," he informed his sister. "You'll be a little weak for a while from the blood loss, though."

"Why were you so worried about cutting myself on that coral?" she wanted to know.

"It tends to cause blood poisoning if the micro organisms get into the bloodstream, although in your case, it looks like the salt water and the bleeding flushed it out. I'm going to find a palm leaf that's big enough to use as a bandage."

Once he'd fabricated a makeshift bandage, it took Brandon a few minutes to lift Tracy onto her one good foot so that he could move her to the shade of the palm trees at the top of the beach. He settled her there as comfortably as possible, then returned to move Celeste to where his sister rested. But as she attempted to stand, a searing pain in her back had the woman pulling up short.

"Ow! Jeezuz!" he heard her complaining shriek. "Feels like I sprained it," she localized the pain's point of emanation, her hand reflexively reaching to where it felt the worst. Brandon ran a hand gently up her backbone, starting at the valley between her lower cheeks and slowly moving up to the base of her neck.

"Any tingling in your feet or legs?" he asked, and was answered negatively by the shake of a head. "You've got a nasty bruise coming up right here," as he pointed out the location in the hollow just above her backside. "You didn't hit the coral, did you?"

"No, but I think I smacked it on the railing as I was jumping overboard. Damn, that hurts!" she filled him in.

"I don't think you've damaged your spine. Can you walk, or should I carry you? We've got to get you off this beach before you burn."

Celeste struggled to her feet gently, the pain slowing her down but not immobilizing her completely. Her lover offered the support of his shoulder, taking as much weight as he could. Eventually, they arrived where Tracy lay under a tree, and he eased Celeste down beside his sister.

"Where the hell are we, anyway?" Tracy asked, still feeling disoriented. "I don't remember seeing any islands on the chart the last time I looked at it. Gawd, that feels like a million years ago."

"No idea where we are exactly, Pip-squeak," he gave her the bad news. "Somewhere between New Guinea and the Philippines, but that's about as close as I can figure out. As a guess, I'd say about two hundred miles southwest of Davao."

"Looks like you got your wish for somewhere isolated. Not exactly in the middle of a shipping lane, are we?" she asked of him.

"Afraid not, Sis," he confirmed, not quite prepared for the funk that the news put her into.

"How long can we survive here?" she tried to find some hope.

"It looks like a fair sized island. If we can find water and I can salvage enough off the boat before the waves finish her off, we might have a chance. What's going to make it tough is your pregnancy and Celeste's injuries. Unfortunately, all the tools and supplies we'll need are still on the boat," he summed up their current status.

"I can't just sit here, Brandon," she complained. "What can I do to help?"

"I might have some bumps and bruises," Celeste added to her sister-in-law's offer, "but I'm not dead yet. Tell me how I can help, too. The last time I looked, we were all in this together. Knowing you, Lover, you won't quit until ten minutes after your last breath."

"What I need is for you girls to rest and let your bodies heal. Until then, I've got to build some kind of shelter, and I'll have to retrieve something off the boat to do that with," he set his priorities.

"When?" was all his sister asked.

"For which? The shelter, or salvaging?" his enquiry went out to her.

"Either," she gave him the option, "or both. It sounds like we've got to do salvage first to get the tools. If it's still intact, why couldn't we untie the tender, let it float to the surface, and load it with whatever we can retrieve? You're going to need something to bring all that stuff ashore with, and I can swim out to help. It's just a matter of deciding when."

"You're not swimming our there with that foot, Pip-squeak," he informed her, "and you've got a baby to look after. Paddling around in a lagoon is out of the question."

"Brandon, if we don't build ourselves a decent shelter, we won't survive anyway, and unless we get off our asses, we won't live long enough for this baby to even be born. I'll be careful, but this is something we have to do. So my question is still, when do we get started?"

"You're determined, aren't you?" he asked, and the emphatic nod of her head answered his question. "I guess there's no time like the present, then. I sure could use something wet first, and I doubt it would break your heart if I found something for you girls."

Brandon scrounged around, finding several conveniently fallen coconuts not that far from where Celeste still lay. When he brought them back, there was a demonstration for the women on how to crack open the shell and release enough milk to temporarily slake their thirst, and the resulting bowl-shaped husks could be used to collect rainwater, if they ever got any.

After being refreshed, Brandon swam out to the wreck of the Gon Waki 2, then dove down to release the tender. As soon as the tie-down ropes were untied, the little inflatable shot up to the surface, but instead of following it, he took a minute to survey the submerged hull, and found that the boat was still impaled on the reef's outcropping. The resulting hole precluded ever being able to repair the ship, but until there was a large storm, he hoped that she'd remain there long enough to remove as much as he could. And before returning to the surface, he also took time to pull out a pair of swim fins from the deck locker where they'd been stored. Those flippers would extend the distance he could travel between breaths.

Over the next two days, Tracy and her brother devoted all their energies to salvaging as much off the boat as they could, taking advantage of the few times that the waters were calm enough that they weren't in constant danger of being slammed against either the rocks or the coral. Brandon would bring items up, then heft them into the inflatable. When he'd filled it with as much as it would comfortably handle, Tracy would row ashore, and with Celeste's limited help, unload their treasures before heading back for more.

Something that Brandon had found easy to retrieve was the brightly coloured spinnaker, which became a combination sun shelter and windbreak for their protection through the night. The idea expanded later to include the mainsail, which took time and several dives to release from the mast and boom. The mainsail was relegated to covering and protecting their salvage from the sun and any rain that might eventually fall. He'd hoped to retrieve the jib while he was at it, but decided that was a job for some time in the future when they weren't subject to such a tight time frame for reliable shelter.

The strenuous labour took its toll on Tracy, despite her brother's insistence that she take it easy. The upside was that after three days rest, Celeste's back was now feeling a lot better, and she took over where Tracy had left off. Between her and Brandon, they spent a full day gathering bamboo for the shelter's frame and palm fronds for wall and roof panels. His crew mate had pushed herself to the limits dragging the materials back to the chosen site, leaving Brandon to finish what she'd started. Relying exclusively on himself, it was another full day before he had everything assembled.

"Think you girls could stand a day off?" he enquired that evening. "We're going to have to find water, then figure out how to get it down here. I'd like to take a day and do some exploring before we start building, just in case I run into a better location."

"I'll be okay by myself," Tracy volunteered, "but I'd feel a lot better if you didn't go off on your own. Maybe Celeste can go with you? How's the back, Sis?"

"Better," she advised. "Not good, but better. If we take it easy, I might be able to keep tabs on your goofy brother tomorrow. It's you that I'm worried about, though. What if something happens while we're gone?"

'Nothing's going to happen," Tracy defeated her sister-in-law's objections. "The baby's not due for another month yet, and despite his mother acting like she's half her age, he's fine. It's our Captain that I'm worried about. You've seen how much he's done in the last three days. How the hell he keeps going is beyond me."

"I'll take care of him, don't you worry, Sweetie," Celeste assured her. "Maybe the exercise will do me some good and a long walk might even get some of these knots out of my muscles."

In spite of being tired that evening from all his work, Brandon found himself at the mercy of his crew mates, although Tracy wasn't up to much more than being their love victim. But she loved the attention the other two gave her, especially the intense orgasms that always resulted when both lovers used their tongues on her simultaneously. She felt a little guilty that she'd received so much pleasure, but hadn't been able to give as much in return.

"You rest, Sweetie," her sister-in-law strongly suggested. "You need it, and besides, I can give your brother the kind of care he needs. It would be nice to do him together, like we did before you were as big as a house, although I doubt he wants to wait that long. Would you be upset if I did?"

"No, Sis," Tracy let her sister-in-law know. "You take care of him, but don't wear him out too much. Our baby still needs a Daddy. Want me to go into the other room so you two can have some privacy?" she joked, for the spinnaker still formed a one-room tent.

"Sure hope you can hold onto that sense of humour, Sis," her brother hopefully wondered. "Surviving on this island could be difficult if we don't find water. In the meantime, you girls had better get some sleep."

"Shut up, Brandon," she gently ordered. "That girl beside you needs some tender care and loving right now. If you do to her what you did to your sister, she'll be out like a light soon enough. But wake me before you leave?"

"I will, Pip-squeak," he promised, before adding, "I do love you, you know."

"I know, big brother. My pussy's still twitching from what you did for me. I love you, too."

Brandon rolled onto his back, and felt Celeste curl up on his chest. But as much as he loved her, and wanted her, not having his sister included in their lovemaking just didn't feel right to him.

"Angel, would you mind if we didn't make love tonight?" he asked her. "It's not the same when Tracy's not with us."

"I don't mind, Lover. You're right, though. It feels strange, somehow, to have you and not her. I know we've done it when she couldn't be there, but I wouldn't feel right, or loved properly, especially when she's laying right beside us."

Celeste laid her head back on Brandon's chest, and was joined a moment later by her sister-in-law, who wore a happy smile for the warm words her two lovers had exchanged as they expressed their need and consideration of her.

The sun was up and busily warming the air of the island when Celeste woke the next morning. Instinctively, she stretched up and kissed her Captain's lips, then repeated her actions for her fellow crew member's benefit. That was all it took to pull the two others out of their slumber, leave a smile on their faces, and start everyone's day with a healthy dose of optimism.

They shared a meal of coconut milk and breadfruit before the two explorers left. Brandon made his sister promise not to exert herself while they were gone, and Celeste insisted that the mother-to-be stay in the shade, just in case.

"Get out of here, you two," Tracy protested. "Just don't be too long? I don't think I could go through a whole night alone if I didn't know you were safe."

"If anything comes up, Sis, I'll phone," her brother facetiously teased.

"Goof!" she called him, then kissed him deeply and passionately. "There's two of us here that need you to come back safe and sound," she reminded him. "Both of you," she added. "I'm not going through labour all by myself. Understand, Sis?"

"We're just going to explore the island, not emigrate!" Celeste's tone of mock exasperation answered. "You take good care of my niece, though," she tacked on.

"I'll look after your nephew, too," Tracy giggled, then allowed herself to become lost in her sister-in-law's loving embrace.

Tracking through the jungle-like growth slowed them down, and took more energy than Brandon was happy to see Celeste expend. But after almost an hour of slow struggling, they came upon a game trail that headed in approximately the direction they wanted to go, and he veered onto it.