February 25th, 2013
Pitcairn Island
1
Kendle's exile in the wilderness lasted for 60 days and 60 nights, and then, as suddenly as her nightmare had begun, it was over. The small, weathered speedboat washed up on a sandy shore while she slept, and it was the painful twisting and cramping of her stomach that woke her.
The adventurist crawled clumsily to the side of the boat with her eyes still closed and retched until her belly was empty and her throat burned. She didn't notice the lack of motion that was causing her misery and dipped her hand to splash her face, crying a little at the abrupt beginning to her day. Instead of debris-filled waves, there was only the warm wetness of her vomit and the hard grit beneath it.
Caw! Caw!
Kendle's eyes flew open. Trees, thick and green, waving over a vast, sandy beach, greeted her.
Birds called curiously above her head, flew into the thick palm trees with annoyed chirps, and she blinked, smelling fragrant flowers and earth. Her eyes went to steep, green and orange cliffs, and hills of waving trees. Land?
Kendle stood up in a quick, jerky movement and her stomach twisted again, knocking her off her feet and out of the boat. Her hands and legs flailed, tried to keep herself afloat, and she hit the sand with a hard thud that knocked out the instinctive breath she'd sucked in. She lay on the warm, dry beach, coughing and crying as she cradled her aching stomach. Land! She was on land!
Kendle forced her shaking knees together and stood on dirt for the first time in eight weeks, her muscles protesting as they struggled to hold her up. Her entire body felt weak, wrong, and she swiped distractedly at tears. She hadn't thought she would ever feel safe again, and her eyes repeatedly returned to the bright green treetops. She was on land! She could survive here.
The model-turned-actress forced her new legs to carry her into the hated floating coffin for her meager supplies, swearing it would be a long time before she got back into one. She'd been afraid to fly before, but what was a quick, fiery plane crash compared to the hell she had lived through?
It took Kendle a while to gather her things and she cringed each time the rough surf caressed the battered boat, terrified the waves would pull her back out. She picked the middle of three paths into the dense jungle, and dragging the pillowcase behind her, began to walk, heart lighter than it had been since losing her sister. Her tender feet protested the cool, sharp, forest floor and the pain sent joy rushing through her. She knew how to survive in this world. She was safe!