***

Anna's temperature subsided a little that evening. She kept close to Nikolas all night.

Before dawn, Nikolas was up and searching the area for debris to build a raft. To him it was obvious that despite occasional signs of improvement, Anna's condition was becoming grave and the possibility of a severe infection loomed daily. His mind began to work with dizzying desperation. His first concern was getting Anna safely to a doctor, before an infection set in. "I must do something," he admonished himself. His thoughts quickly faded when he heard the familiar buzzing sound. "The bastards are coming back!"

Nikolas ran to the cave to alert Anna. After the plane circled the island several times, it swooped down, dropping a bomb right in front of the cave. Water leapt into the sky. Rocks, dark seaweed, dead fish, and sand flew up along with it. Like before, luck was with them again as the front of the cave collapsed, shielding them from flying debris.

"Are you all right love?" Anna asked worriedly.

"Yes, Agape, I am fine," he replied, taking Anna in his arms. "I'm just glad it was not a direct hit."

Anna nodded. Nikolas stood up and checked for cracks to make sure the roof would not collapse next. The sea soon returned to its normal calmness. Fish of every size lay dead, some washed ashore, their mouths gaping open. Others were floating with their bellies blown apart and their intestines drifting in the ocean. The penetrating and nerve-racking noise could still be heard on the other side of the tiny island, where the airplane was dropping more of its deadly cargo. Nikolas heard the sound of gunfire but he was not sure if it came from the ground or the air. He knew that if the gunfire was from the ground they were not alone on the island.

For a moment, he sat on a rock looking at the dead fish, deep in thought. He was disgusted by the destructive act. The sight of the fish floating belly-up made him recall a story he read about the Japanese who ate fish raw. The propaganda article had touted how indestructible these men were. They would disembowel themselves in rituals of honor in spite of the pain. In battles, some continued to fight, even with their intestines hanging out. Gambare, it was called, "the fighting spirit." The Japanese pilots were trained to take off without expecting to return, a determination that gave them no choice but to crash into ships, sacrificing themselves to destroy the enemy. Such pilots were recognized as national heroes by their emperor. Nikolas shook his head, trying to refocus his mind. "First things first, I must find a way out of here."




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