Beyond the Sea by Keira Andrews

Paula had indulged in that giddy little smile in the terminal and leaned in with eyes shining, almost bouncing on her toes.
    He had to squeeze his eyes shut at the thought, bracing through a wave of nausea and sorrow. The storm had cleaned the stone of Paula’s blood and remains, but he could still feel the solid flesh of her arm in his hand.
    Why hadn’t he been a better friend? She’d asked him for drinks repeatedly, insisting he’d be a great wingman so she could pick up hot chicks. He’d disagreed, but had actually been tempted a few times. Paula had teased and cajoled and made him smile for real. While he knew he’d never love flying again, he’d liked it with Paula, and that was more than he’d had in a long time.
    As Troy went back and forth, undoubtedly working up a hell of a sweat, Brian realized he’d actually talked more to Troy in the past…how long had it been? Shit, he wasn’t sure. Uncapping a plastic bottle, he drank. This was the second day. Right. They’d crashed yesterday morning. Maybe they could use one of the stones as a calendar and scratch the days on it.
    But yes, he’d spoken to Troy more than he’d spoken to anyone in too long. The only time he spent this many hours with someone was on a long flight, and that was different. Now Troy was all he had.
    Impossible questions simmered in his mind. How many days could they survive? What if it didn’t rain? What if they got sick? What if—
    “ You okay?” Troy called.
    Blinking, Brian refocused. Troy stood by his growing collection of black rocks. “Yes.”
    “ Maybe you should lie down in the shade.”
    “ No. I’ll start on the first ‘S.’ I’m feeling better.”
    Acquiescing, Troy went for more rocks, and Brian pushed to his feet and approached the pile. The rocks were heavier than he expected. Troy certainly didn’t seem to be afraid of hard work. As he returned, Brian asked, “Aren’t rock stars supposed to be spoiled?”
    Laughing, Troy dropped his load. “I’m not a rock star.”
    “ Okay, pop star. Teen idol. Whatever. I thought the rich and famous had people to do everything for them.”
    “ You wanna be my assistant?” Troy grinned. “I think you’re the only applicant. You’re a shoo-in.”
    “ How’s the pay?” Brian picked up a stick from the scattered foliage still left on the beach.
    “ Pretty shitty. Do you take coconuts?”
    “ As a matter of fact, I do.”
    They laughed even though it wasn’t that funny, and Troy went off again. Using the stick, Brian started tracing the SOS in the sand, stopping and starting several times. When Troy returned, he stood there, feet visible beyond the top curve of the letter Brian was digging. Brian glanced up, his heart leaping into his throat when he saw what Troy was holding.
    “ I thought we could use some pieces? They’d be shiny.” Troy gazed hesitantly between Brian and the two-foot piece of wing in his hands.
    Brian stood straight up, his heart racing. “Don’t cut yourself. It’s dangerous.” He wanted to grab the metal and hurl it into the sea.
    “ I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought it would be a good idea.”
    “ I’m not upset.” The stupid lie hung there in the hot air. He stared at the metal, hearing the shriek of it as they’d collided with the side of the cliff. “Is there a lot of it over there?” he asked hoarsely.
    “ No. The storm washed most of it away. I guess there might be some in the water beyond the rocks. Metal and…stuff.”
    “ Debris.” Brian’s mouth had been dry, but now saliva flooded it, his stomach clenching. He forced himself to look up at Troy, who watched him with kind eyes as he licked his lips nervously. “Yes, we should use it in the letters. Good idea.” He rubbed his face. “Just be careful with the metal. It really can be sharp. I should be the one to pick up the pieces.”
    “ Just work on tracing the letters. I’d suck at that. I’ll be careful, I promise.” Troy cautiously