Help at last

I fall sick the next day, as I had suspected I would, and Charles’s condition worsens, which is no surprise.

He drifts in and out of consciousness the whole day, his fever so bad that it almost feels like he is close to combusting each time I touch him to check his temperature.

That evening, I manage to get us some berries to eat. Charles refuses to have any, and no amount of cajoling and crying on my part would make him eat them.

I’m too weak to husk any coconuts, so I manage to catch some crabs, but end up burning them when I try to cook them.

The lack of food, appetite, and illness weakens us the more, and on the eleventh day after we find ourselves on the island, I’m so weak that I can’t stand any longer.

I lay beside Charles, totally boneless and unable to do anything to help either of us, not that there is much to be done in the first place.