Not the roar of boiling water, namely the rustle, the violence of the elements ended.

Sveta opened her eyes. The small crab stared at her, resting its paws on the sand, right in front of her nose.

“Break off, arthropod. Lunch is canceled. You would get out of here, and then the food itself can scrape you. “Krabik listened to good advice and ran off along the shore.

Sveta got up, it was not easy for her, everything hurt. It seems to have made it weakly, and the struggle for life at the very limit of power, without consequences for the body does not pass. Overloaded muscles, sprained ligaments. bruises, the ocean of adrenaline, which had recently been raging in the blood, all acted with pain throughout the body.

Svetlana looked around, first of all she was looking for Arthur. And found. Meters in one hundred and fifty, further along the shore, lay the body in a familiar orange vest.

Light could not run, but hobbled fast enough. Thank God, Arthur was alive. Unconscious but alive. The wound on the body, not counting the abrasions, and scratches, was also not noticeable. Light calmed down a bit.

I really wanted to drink. Arthurchik’s life jackets were from some kind of fashion company, with a built-in survival kit, and in numerous pockets it was full of small things, including a flask of water.

Sveta took a few sips and screwed the lid on with regret. Water must be saved until they find a source of fresh water.

She once again looked around, on the white sand of a narrow beach, there was a lot of wreckage from a drowned yacht.

And behind the edge of the beach there are emerald tropical thickets, from which the cries of birds were heard. There is a living creature, which means there is water and food.

So, Arturchik something slept. Hey, "beloved" it's time to get up. Light began to revive Arthur.

Arthur opened his eyes.

“Where are we?” Arthur looked around.

"Where? Well, apparently, on the very shitty island to which you reigned. When our wind blew in the ass. And this island is uninhabited, if my memory serves me. So we are, on the present, a desert island, without a radio, food, water, equipment. So where are we? If you want, I will answer. In the ass. In a deep and smelly anus. And I have a legitimate question. You're delicious?"

Arthur looked at Svetlana. But it will devour, raw and even without salt, and the stones gnaw, it will become. Arthur estimated his mistress objectively, appearance is sometimes deceptive. Despite the appearance of the classic "blonde", Sveta was smart, cunning and calculating, capable of unexpected decisions and actions. So promoting it through the ranks, he received an unexpected bonus. In the form of a valuable employee, and not just a cute mistress. Or maybe the bonus here was just love joys?

Together they saw wrecks lying on the beach.

In most cases, these turned out to be practically useless parts of the skin, but something was useful. Several pieces of nylon cord, Arturov shirt, and a life preserver. The truth is why Arthur took the circle, Sveta did not understand.

The most offensive was the lack of shoes. Flip-flops in which they walked on a yacht, eternal her memory, drowned even when Sveta clutched at the handrails and fought against the waves. Walking barefoot on the hot sand was inconvenient, and even in the jungle, stretching a few meters away from them all the more.

But Dima's lessons were not in vain, Sveta made a couple of pieces of cork panels from the company's cabins and a cord, erected quite wearable slaps, anyway better than barefoot.

It was not difficult to find water, the murmur of the stream, they heard almost as soon as they entered under the crowns of the trees. Having had a bite of fruit, Arthur, who has long lived in Florida, understood them, unlike Sveta, they went on to inspect the island that sheltered them.

It was really small, two small mountains covered with rainforest, and a narrow, low, wooded ridge between them.

Overcoming the ridge they were on the other side of the island.And before them was a view of the sky blue bay, bordered by a strip of white sand, with bright green jungles behind it. On the azure surface of the water, the ship froze, as if descending from the screen of a Hollywood blockbuster about pirates, or old engraving. Wooden single-mashed sloop, battered by the storm, anchored in the center of the bay