Castaways Ch. 02

John had no idea what made him bolt upright but he did. Sunlight was streaming in the door. From the looks of the brightness outside he had slept well past dawn unlike he intended. He turned to Em and she was wide awake still lying down but with her head propped up on her arm. Her coat was open as the inside of their home began to warm from the hot sun.

"Sleepy heads awake," Em chided.

"What time is it?"John questioned.

"My watch says it is nine," Em offered.

"We should get up," John stated.

"What's the hurry" Em asked.

"We need to look for search planes. We need to build a signal pyre of driftwood and palm fronds that we can light if we spot a plane or ship," John claimed. "Plus, we need to look for water and more food."

"I'm so glad you know what to do," Em said.

"Well, I'm sure I'm forgetting something," John extolled.

"You're doing great so far," Em said. "I slept great! How about you?"

"Yeah, your beds were fantastic," John agreed, smiling at her.

"They were comfortable, weren't they," Em agreed, smiling back.

John could feel tightness in his jeans. He hadn't peed before going to bed, like usual, and now he had a pee hard-on because of it. He wondered if Em had noticed while he was lying on his back. He cast off his coat and went to get up but it was uncomfortable and the bulge tented his pants noticeably. He tried staying on his knees and slouching over somewhat. It felt mildly better that way and he hoped less obvious.

He glanced at Em and she had a silly smirk on her face. He made his way to the door and outside. The fire was out and as he looked around, he didn't see any of the three trouble makers. He thought it safe to leave Em for a minute and went further over the hill to find a place to pee. He found a spot between two rocks with a pretty view out to the north. John fished out his dick, which wasn't easy, though it had begun to relax slightly. He gazed out over the water looking for land or any signs of life as his stream started.

When he finished he shook, then slipped his dick back in his pants. He turned to return to camp, but was surprised to find Em a little higher up the hill watching him. She had a smile on her face as she looked at him. He walked towards her.

"You like to watch people go to the bathroom," he said jokingly.

"Only sometimes," Em replied with a giggle.

"Oh, you think it's funny, do you?" John queried.

"I was just curious how you'd manage," Em said amused.

"Ha ha," John said smirking and walking past her.

"John?" Em called and her voice had a serious tone now.

"Yeah," he said turning around.

"I need to go too."

"So?"

"Would you stay right there and keep watch," Em asked, seriously.

"But, Em, ..."

"It's okay, please."

"Sure."

He watched as she went down near where he had been. She looked around, found what she was looking for, and proceeded to stand behind a nearly waist high rock. She looked at him as her hands were busy at her waist. He briefly saw more white skin further below her belly bottom, just before she squatted down some. She looked at him and he looked at her. Her smile made it seem almost natural that he be watching over her. Soon she was done and fixing her pants. 'God,' he thought, 'if the damn rock had been even two inches shorter I'm sure I'd have seen a lot more.'

Em walked quickly to him. She was still smiling like the past five minutes had been completely normal. He felt anything but normal.

"Thanks," Em said, smiling as she went by.

John followed her back to camp. They ate some more coconut and peanuts and washed them down with water, finishing a bottle each. Em followed John to the beach and they began by gathering driftwood and palm fronds for the signal fire. It took a long time to scavenge that big a pile. John wanted it to be close to six feet tall so it would burn high and bright. It was nearly noon before they were done.

When they were finished they walked back by the downed plane. It was low tide and the top half was visible in the surf. They were about to turn back towards camp when Em pointed down the beach, into the water.

"There," Em said. "Do you see it?"

John looked where she was pointing and on the next out wave saw it. The front part of the plane was barely visible above the water. They ran down the beach to the spot. It was close to where John had discovered all the bodies.

"Stay here," John said handing her the flare gun and ran into the water.

He dove into an oncoming wave and swam the rest of the way to the plane. It was somewhat further out than the back half they had been in. John could see how the nose of the plane had crushed under the force as it slammed into the shore. This section was upside down and John had to enter through the jagged gaping hole where the plane broke apart. He couldn't get air inside the plane as it was completely filled with water. He had to take breaths and swim inside and out before his air ran out.

John found the pilot and copilot still strapped in their seats. They were unrecognizable and crushed in their seats to the point John had no thoughts of trying to remove them. He took several runs inside but found little of interest. He grabbed a few coats and one bag from the overhead bins of the front row. He found a pocketbook and grabbed that too for Em. He thought it might have a comb.

If he had been above the water, he might have tried removing the radio to try to fix it, but there was no way he could attempt that without being able to breathe while he worked. He did find a plastic covered map which he took as well. Finding nothing more of value he left. He made his way back to shore with the things he had but didn't see Em on the shore waiting for him. He wondered why she walked away.

When he got up on the beach, he yelled for her. He started quickly walking back towards the hut when he heard a scream. John dropped the things he had and ran towards the scream. He heard it again before it died out. He ran up the beach to the tree line. He saw what looked like drag marks in the sand. Panic hit him as he realized what might have happened while he was inside the plane. He ran into the palms, following the drag marks. John didn't have far to go before he saw what he feared.

Ahead in an opening between the palms he saw Pacho and Duane on top of Em. He started to run towards her when his peripheral vision just happened to spot movement from behind a group of palms to his right. He had just enough time to raise his right hand before Manuel swung a long piece of driftwood at his head. He blocked it with his hand but felt pain immediately as it took a lot of the force of the blow. John stumbled under the force of the blow, falling to the sandy ground.

Manuel moved in for another blow. John scrambled to his knees, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans. He rolled to his left and just managed to avoid the strike by Manuel as the wood pounded the sand just behind him. John prepared for the next strike. Manuel moved closer to bring the driftwood plank down on his head. Just as Manuel swung, John leaped to the right. Manuel compensated this time and caught John across his calf. He still managed to lung forward towards Manuel though.

John had found a small pointed scissors in the medical kit that he had kept in his pocket. As he lunged towards Manuel, he thrust the scissors out catching Manuel in the leg just above the knee. The pointed end sunk in two inches, as long as the point of the small scissors would allow. Manuel screamed and fell back. John could feel pain in his leg but rose up to his feet. As Manuel looked in his direction to attempt another swing of the board, John swung his fist, catching Manuel square in the jaw. Blood spattered from Manuel's mouth and he dropped to the ground. John grabbed the board from him and kicked him hard in the side. Manuel collapsed in a heap on the ground.

Ignoring the pain in his leg, John sprinted towards the two guys assaulting Em. Pacho saw him coming and stood up with the flare gun in his good hand. John had closed the gap between them enough to swing the board wildly. He caught Pacho right on his broken right arm. Pacho emitted a blood curdling scream and dropped the flare gun from his left hand to grab his right arm. John swung again and hit him hard in the shoulder of his bad arm, breaking the plank in half. Pacho howled again and dropped over into the sand.

Duane saw that John had made it through the first two guys and jumped up off Em to confront him. He had a large piece of shell in his hand. It had a long pointed end and looked to have been sharpened further on a stone or something. Duane stepped slowly towards him with his knife-like shell held before him. John still had the small scissors in his left hand and half the board in his right. Duane and he circled like two knife fighters.

"You ever practice disarming a man with a knife?" John asked Duane with smile calmly.

"What the fuck you talking about, old man?" Duane responded nervously.

"Oh, it's just that we practiced this a lot in the army," John said.

"Fuck you, asshole," Duane shot back.

"We'll see about that," John said.

He quickly glanced over at Em to make sure she was okay. What he saw made him even angrier. Her tank top and bra had been cut right up the middle of her chest. The sleeves of the shirt had been pulled off her shoulders and down her arms, pinning them at her sides. Her breasts were fully exposed and red from apparent rough treatment.

John quickly looked back to Duane. John faked the first move in. Duane reacted by thrusting the pointed shell forward. John swung the board at Duane but he was quick and moved back. They maneuvered some more and John faked another lunge. Duane reacted the same way and this time John knocked the shell from his hand with the board. Duane yelped in pain grabbing his sore hand. Now unarmed, he turned and ran into the trees. John turned to find Pacho getting up behind him. When John advanced towards him, he ran holding his bad arm to where Manuel was also getting up. Together they took off down the beach.

John tossed the board and ran to Em. He dropped to his knees next to her as she was attempting to pull her shirt back over her ample breasts. Tears streaked her face. Her cheek had a handprint from where they tried to cover her screams.

"Em ... I'm so sorry! I never should have left you," John cried.

"I wasn't watching, John. I let them sneak right up on me," Em said through tears like it was her fault.

"You couldn't have stopped them," John exclaimed.

"I had the flare gun. I let them just take it from me," Em confessed.

"It's not your fault, it's mine," John avowed.

Em just came into his arms sobbing. He held her close and let her cry. They stayed like that for a while until she calmed down. He felt like he had let her down. He had promised to keep her safe.

"I'm so sorry, Em."

"Just hold me, John."

He did for a while longer until she stopped sobbing. He brushed her sand-filled hair from her eyes and wiped away her tears. She was young enough to be his daughter, yet the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He looked at her face with remorse that he had let her down. Let those hoodlums get to her. He was ready to apologize again when she spoke.

"Thanks, John. Thanks for saving me," Em offered.

"But, I ... I failed ..."

"Take me home, John. Take me back to our hut?" Em asked.

John picked her up in his arms. His leg and hand hurt terribly but he ignored the pain. He stooped down to grab the flare gun from the sand, holding it in his hand as he held her too. He carried her back to the beach near where he had dropped the stuff from the plane. His leg was killing him and carrying her in the sand proved near impossible, even for a big strong guy determined to get her back to the hut.

"John, I can walk," Em said. "Let's take these things too."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I probably couldn't have made it anyway," John said huffing and puffing a little.

"I know," Em said, and the makings of a smile formed on her lips.

John set her down and together they grabbed the stuff from the beach. They walked back to the hut and took the things inside. The coats were still wet. The beauty of using driftwood for supports was that there was no lack of stubs of branches and protrusions to hang things on. They hung up the coats to dry. With a sandy floor, who cared if the coats dripped dry.

John looked through the bag. It belonged to the older couple. He found a Tupperware container inside and, to his surprise when he opened it, it was filled with chocolate chip cookies still relatively dry. Em screamed with delight when he handed her two. She ate the first one in seconds, moaning with joy the whole time.

He had handed her the purse. She opened it to discover it was the young bride's. There was a brush, lipstick in okay shape, but most of the other make-up was destroyed by the salt water, and her cell phone was too. Em pulled out the girl's wallet and stared at it.

"What's wrong," John asked seeing her expression.

"It feels weird holding a dead person's wallet. It makes me sad," Em said.

"Come here," John said, grabbing the brush.

Em moved so her back was to him; as she did her shirt opened slightly. She had been holding it closed with her one arm. John briefly saw her right breast before her back was to him. It made him wonder why she hadn't put her coat on. It was hot, maybe that was why.

John ran the brush through her long blonde hair. It snagged a few times and filled with pieces of sand. He knocked it against his pant leg to shake them loose and resumed brushing. He brushed her hair for a good ten minutes getting most of the sand out and the knots too. When he was done, she thanked him.

"I think I'll lie down for a while, John," Em said.

"Okay. I've got some things to do anyway," John claimed.

He watched Em curl up on her bed and covered her with her coat. He knew the guys would be back and decided they needed to plan their defenses. He had an idea for a trip wire using vines. He planned to attach the empty can with small rocks in it and maybe string up some shells too; something that would make noise to alert them of intruders into the camp. He also had an idea for a booby trap as well.

John set to work but noticed his right hand was swollen. He examined it and realized he might have broken one of the small bones in his hand. It hurt like hell. His leg, at the calf, also had a good sized bulge forming. Nothing appeared broken there but he had a huge contusion forming.

He gathered driftwood appropriate for what he had in mind. He'd have to climb the nearest palms to make his plan work which wouldn't be easy. He worked straight through for several hours but was pleased with what he had done when it was complete. The climbing and securing of the driftwood in the palms had been the hardest part by far.

His plan covered the three sides of the approach to the camp. The rocks offered them some protection to the west. On the north and south approaches he just had trip wires with noise makers to alert them of anyone approaching. On the east side away from the fire pit, he had secured a stouter trip wire. To this one he had secured the driftwood hidden in the palms. Both had sharpened ends and would swing down on anyone breaking the trip wire. If his plan worked and based on the positioning of the palms, the two planks would swing down about two feet apart, passing by each other in a wide arc.

"What're you doing?" Em asked from the doorway to the hut.

He told her and showed her where to watch for the vines so she wouldn't accidently trip them. It was already getting late and the sun was beginning to cast long shadows. It was cooling a little too.

"I have to use the bathroom again," Em said, her one arm still holding her shirt closed.

"You shouldn't go alone," John stated.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Em admitted.

They walked together down to the spot they had used earlier that morning. They were careful to avoid his trip wire.

"Clever of you, the way you did that," Em claimed.

"Thanks. I only hope it works," John confessed.

He watched as Em moved behind the same rock. She used both hands to undo her pants and her shirt hung open enough for him to see the sides of both of her breasts. He tried not to think about it but somehow his brain still programmed in their size and shape. He thought them to be nice B or even C cups. Then he tried to unsuccessfully banish such thoughts from his mind. He kept telling himself to be real.

He was still trying when Em finished and walked back out towards him. Her hand was back holding her shirt. Her beautiful combed blonde hair blew nicely in the wind that was accompanying the coming dusk.

"You know, I should go too while we're here together," John proclaimed.

"Okay ... I'll wait," said Em.

John walked back over to the two rocks he had used before. His swollen right hand hurt so badly now he struggled with his belt and zipper. He was right handed and not accustomed to using his left to unzip his pants. He was working the zipper down when he felt Em's presence beside him. He turned as she stood beside him.

"How's your hand?" Em asked.

He showed her, "Hurts a bit," John confessed as she examined it.

"Need help?" Em questioned but didn't wait for an answer.

"Aah ... ungh," John stammered.

"It's okay, John. I'm not a little girl. I've done this before, you know, and not just to myself," Em said matter-a-factly.

When his zipper was down, John claimed, "Aah ... I can take it from here."

"You sure?" Em questioned, with her hands down on the flaps of his pants leaving her shirt open enough to see all of her right breast and erect pink nipple.

"God," John moaned. "You better let me do this."

His cock was stirring from the sight of her breast and her hands on his pants. If they stood like this much longer he might pop out through the slit in his boxers. A hardon would make it difficult to piss too.

"You sure? I can help," Em said, but a mischievous smile crossed her lips as she looked at him.

"I think so," John said.

"I'd gladly help," Em said, her right hand toying with the hole in his boxers.

"I c-c-can do it," John stuttered.

"Okay," Em said, and she seemed reluctant to back away.

He waited for her to get back where she was before on the hill. He used his left hand to fish his semi-hard cock from his shorts. It took a second for the stream to start given his current state and thoughts. When he finished he put himself away just as Em reappeared.

"Should I help you close back up?" she asked, but again didn't wait for an answer.

The back of her right hand seemed to rub up against him as she zipped him back up. She helped him with the button and the belt too. His cock had begun to harden further from her touch and closeness. Her right tit touching his shirt covered arm. The beginnings of a bulge at his crotch didn't escape either of them.

They walked back to the camp, avoided the vine, and gathered around the fire. They still lacked a means to start the fire and John tried working with the rocks again. He was even less successful than the night before given his hand. It was swollen from the injury and subsequent use to twice its normal size. He should have been icing it but that was not possible.

They gave up on the fire and just crawled into the hut. John couldn't open coconuts either so they settled for a dinner of peanuts and cookies, which Em didn't mind. They each had a Pepsi.

"Em, I think I figured out a way to fix your bra and shirt," John proposed.

She was spending less time holding it, giving him more and more open looks. The tightness of the tank top prevented there being enough extra to tie off the bottom to hold it together. Her bra split in two was useless in its current state.