Repost: On an Island

[Viridian]

On an Island
By Viridis

I woke up on an island. When you’re a bloke on holiday in the Caribbean, it would seem rather normal. In my case, the last time I remembered going to sleep, I was on a small boat. I didn’t expect to wake up on a small island in the middle of nowhere, and I didn’t expect to be up to be floundering up to my chest in quicksand. It was like I was magically planted into the yellow sand like a fence post. I was literally bolt upright in the bog.

Escape was obviously the first thing on my mind. I admit that I’m not the biggest expert on quicksand. Floating out didn’t seem to be an option – I was already up to my armpits. I quickly surveyed my surroundings. I appeared to be in the middle of a large patch of flat, wet sand. Above the surface, I could see I was wearing a white polyester button-down shirt – I remember that from last night. There was nothing on the left side I could use to escape. On the right…ah! Funny enough, it was a palm tree. And not just a palm tree root; I mean the tree itself, within reach. It was a bit weird to me, but I wasn’t going to question a conveniently placed escape route.

It didn’t feel like I was sinking any deeper, so I was content with taking my time. I slid my right arm around the base of the trunk. I couldn’t reach around the whole thing, but I got a good grip with my hand and started to work my way towards the trunk. It was slow progress, and the quicksand made the sucking sounds that…well, I suppose quicksand makes. I guess it would’ve been easier if I wasn’t so deep. It was soon apparent that trying to walk upright out of quicksand wasn’t going to work, so I twisted my torso to face the trunk and grabbed it with both hands. I leaned forward, twisting and turning in the sand, working myself into a horizontal position. My legs were stuck under the surface, but I was able to get them angled back a bit. It was enough to help me slide my body out of the quicksand with less resistance. Gosh, after watching quicksand scenes on TV, you would’ve thought that it would be easier to get out of – assuming you didn’t die in Hollywood quicksand. This quicksand felt like highly saturated sand – soft and watery, and quite warm from the overhead sun. A few minutes of hard pulling, I was able to lift my upper body onto the surface. Using the trunk as leverage, I was able to crawl out with less effort. I kicked my legs to help extricate them, and they too slid out with a little more pulling. I rolled onto my side away from the quicksand.

Well, that was a weird experience. Now that I was out of immediate danger, I could make a better check on my predicament. The mystery of how I got on this island was made obvious by the bits of wreckage strewn across the flat shoreline. I guess the boat must have hit a reef or something at night. The captain was the only one awake, and there was one assistant on the crew. I remembered four others were on the boat – it was a rather empty trip between the islands that I got cheap tickets for. Either they escaped using the inflatable vests, or they were stranded on this island as well.

It would’ve made sense, except the island I was on was rather disappointing for a deserted island. It was like one of those cartoon islands, with a small patch of sand and a palm tree. It was bigger, but not much – probably three football fields at best. It was also very flat, and the sand was of the same yellow colour and smooth texture as the quicksand I was trapped in. Apart from the shoreline where I was, the island was ringed by slightly elevated dunes. In fact, if it weren’t for the small dunes on the far side of the island, I reckon I could’ve seen the ocean on the other side. Instead, I saw palm trees. That was probably an overstatement – there were no less than four palm trees on the island: the one I was sitting beside, and three others on the far side of the island. That was it. No lakes, no caves, no rocks or streams. Just a small sandy island. If there were other survivors, they would have to be invisible.

Sitting around wasn’t going to get me anywhere soon. I wasn’t entirely enthusiastic about finding means of survival on this patch of sand in the middle of nowhere. I started by skirting around the quicksand and walking amongst the scraps of debris that were washed ashore. I had nothing on me except for the soaked polyester shirt – with the buttons ripped off, I should add, revealing my torso. I wasn’t a macho guy, but I had a slim, tanned figure, so I didn’t look too bad for a survivor. I was wearing cargo shorts – also soaked with sand and water – which added to my Hollywood appeal. I might write to them if I ever got off this island.

I started to trek around the island. Again, it’s an overstatement; it probably would’ve taken around ten minutes to jog around the island. The three palm trees on the far side were arranged in a triangle on a slight rise. I followed the small dunes on the edge of the shore to see if I could find anything useful. I couldn’t – and in fact, I was starting to get rather lonely. When you’re stranded on an island, you do kind of want to talk about it with someone else, even if they’re in the exact same circumstances.

So when I heard a voice shouting, ‘Help!’ I was more relieved and excited than concerned. I suppose I should’ve snapped into action, ready to tackle on dangers varying from bloodthirsty cannibals to annoying little crabs, but after seeing what little the island was going to offer, my readiness was equivalent to my desire to play croquet. That is to say, pretty much nil.

As I jogged around the island, I saw some movement through the three palm trees. Curiosity started to get me moving faster. I cut across the flat expanse of sand, running up to the small dune where the trees were. I gazed at the sand in front of me, ready for whatever perils I had to face. At first, I saw nothing. The voice shouted again.

‘Help! Hurry!’
I was surprised I missed her. The flat, yellow sand was barren apart from the head of a young woman. She had long black hair, and was either Vietnamese or Chinese. Her head was turned to face me, but I could see nothing else of her apart from her shoulders sticking out of the sand.
‘Please, it’s quicksand!’ she shouted, eyes wide with panic.
‘Stay still; it’s quicksand,’ I said almost at the same time. Heroic deeds weren’t exactly my cup of team. I’d have to work on that – and heroic-sounding lines – if Hollywood was to hire me.

Looking at the trapped girl, it would’ve been hard not to stay still, considering how deep she was. She was very far out from the trees; the sand around her was lighter in colour. The surface glistened with moisture, and was unblemished apart from the small ripples around the trapped girl. There were several shallow pits in the sand between the girl and the dune, presumably how she got herself stuck.

I dropped to my knees and stretched my arm out to her. She was way too far for me to reach, but I was at least trying to look like I was helping.
‘Can you reach me?’ I asked, painfully obvious that she couldn’t.

‘My arms are stuck!’ she cried. That was something I didn’t expect. Now what was I supposed to do? I guess I would have to go into the quicksand to pull her out. Now that I thought about it, I wasn’t sure where the quicksand’s edge was. The whole area beside the dune looked the same.
‘I’m going to go in to pull you out,’ I told her, remembering how rescuers always vocalised what they were going to do next to reassure the victim. ‘You won’t go under, trust me.’
‘But I feel like I’m about to!’ she protested. She looked like she was; even with just her shoulders and head above the surface, it looked like she was trying to keep her chin above water.
‘Just stay calm,’ I instructed. Not that she was in any position to ignore my warning.

I slowly edged my way around what I thought was the quicksand’s edge, finding the closest part to reach her. The sand was soft under my feet; initially I didn’t sink at all, but I soon found the softer spots. I carefully removed my sinking feet each time I stumbled on an unstable patch of sand, and I found that I wasn’t getting any closer to her. I found myself going in what looked like an elliptical shape. The far side of the quicksand was bordered by the higher ground of the island’s edge, so I knew that part would at least be solid.

‘So, what’s your name?’ I asked her, trying to create a sense of normality. Not that there was much normality about being stuck in quicksand on a deserted island.
‘Julie,’ she said. ‘You’re Alan, right?’
That took me back slightly. Then again, since we were on the same boat, I shouldn’t have been surprised that she knew my name.
‘That’s right,’ I replied, trying to think of something else to say. ‘So…uh, you come here often?’
‘Very funny,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘I suppose you want to know how I got in here.’
‘That would keep us occupied while I’m saving you, so yes.’
Julie watched my progress around the quicksand patiently. ‘I remembered our boat hitting a reef and breaking apart. Water gushed into the cabins and…well, I don’t remember much else. But you know about that, don’t you?’
‘Not really,’ I admitted. ‘But I figured as much.’
‘Well, I woke up on the beach surrounded by debris. I tried to search around for the others, but I couldn’t find anyone nearby. I took shelter from the sun under the palm trees over there. Then I heard a plane fly overhead. I ran out and waved at the plane, hoping they would see me and the wreck and send for help. I mean, there are tons of small ports on the islands, and some of the larger ones have airstrips. The captain told me that the islands aren’t really as isolated as they appear on maps. If he’s right, it shouldn’t take long for help to arrive. A few hours at the very least. We’re pretty lucky.’
‘Makes sense. So how did you end up stuck here?’
Julie blushed. ‘When I ran out to wave at the plane, I kind of stumbled into the quicksand without knowing. I mean, the sand was really soft, but I was focused on the plane, so I didn’t notice that I was sinking until I was past my thighs. I tried to get out, but I was really stuck. I tried to push myself out, but that didn’t work.’
‘Obviously.’
‘Hmph, easy for you to say. You haven’t been stuck in quicksand for an hour.’
‘An hour?’ Wow. That was incredible.
‘Yes, I’ve been stuck here up to my neck for an hour.’
‘And you’ve been calling for help all this time?’
‘No. It was rather pointless after the first five minutes, but it wasn’t going to hurt to call out now and then.’
By now I reached the closest point to her. I was standing at the base of the small dune. Julie was still out of reach, but closer than she was to the palm trees. I could crawl out to her and try to dig her out. I flopped onto my belly and slowly moved across the surface.
‘Well, my story isn’t as interesting,’ I said. ‘I woke up in quicksand and I got out.’
‘What, that’s it?’ Julie said, feigning disappointment. ‘That’s really dull.’
‘Not something I’d use for a Hollywood script. Or Lost.’
‘I hate Lost.’
‘Me too. Just thought I’d mention it.’

Crawling over the quicksand wasn’t as dangerous as I thought it would be. It felt like crawling over wet sand at the beach. It was only as I got closer to Julie that the sand’s true nature became more apparently; my hands slipped in and out of the soft surface, which felt unstable under my body. I was glad Julie hadn’t struggled for an hour; I doubted that I could get to her if the quicksand was any softer.

‘So, what are you going to do?’ she asked.
I made a mental note to remember that Julie wasn’t a mind-reader. I told her of my idea of digging her out, to which she looked sceptical.
‘Are you sure that’s going to work?’
‘I wouldn’t mind a hand,’ I replied, ‘but you don’t seem to have any.’
Julie snorted. ‘You’re lucky they’re stuck here; otherwise I’d be knocking you silly.’
Even as I started scooping sand from around her shoulders, I had a feeling that it was indeed a bad idea. The sand was still quite soft, and getting softer as I worked at freeing her arms. Her right shoulder was facing me, so I dug out sand from around her shoulder and torso. Soon I was able to see her upper arm, and Julie could move it around slightly. Scooping out more of the wet sand, I caught of a glimpse of her bare breast.
‘Keep digging, Alan,’ she said sternly. She quickly had a change of face. ‘And quick!’
‘Huh?’
‘The quicksand’s getting softer. I’m starting to sink!’
I could feel the water coming up through the sand. Julie dropped down an inch. I worked furiously at moving the sand from around her body; the liquefying sand was easier to dig out, but it flowed back in quicker than I could keep up.
‘My arm’s nearly out!’ she cried. ‘Get it out!’
I used both my hands to scoop huge globs of sand. Julie tugged at her arm, which she was able to get out to her elbow. The sand made loud sucking noises. I dug in deep, nearly getting my arms stuck, but my effort allowed Julie to extricate her right arm.
‘Okay, now hold me up,’ Julie instructed. In the back of my mind, I thought it was odd that the victim would be barking out orders, but I did as she told me. I shuffled forward so I could reach around her body. I couldn’t get much support on her back, but my right arm wrapped around her chest, my hand clasping tightly on her left breast. I could feel her nipple harden under my hand, but Julie was occupied with digging her left arm out. I could feel her body slowly slipping deeper, and I tried to shift her back up as much as I could. It would’ve been easier if she had larger breasts; she felt like a B-cup based on my estimates.
‘Okay, my arm’s free,’ Julie shouted. ‘Now what?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re the one rescuing me. What do we do now?’
Damn it. With the quicksand softening underneath me, I couldn’t stand up to pull her out, and I couldn’t let go of her or else she’ll sink under. Bah; I really need to think things through before I do them.
‘Climb over me,’ I told her.
‘What?’
‘I said climb over me. I’m not going to sink. Hurry up and get yourself out.’
Julie hesitated. I got her started by scooping out more sand from around her chest and trying to lift her out. My prone position didn’t allow much leverage to achieve anything other than to squeeze her breast, but she quickly got the point. She twisted her torso towards me and reached over my shoulder, gripping the back of my shirt. I felt her long fingernails dig into my skin like raven claws. Then I felt the weight of her trying to pull herself onto me. Her efforts were meek at first, but she suddenly lurched forward, lifting her body through the liquefied sand. Her soft breast brushed past my face. Despite the situation, I had to admit I was in a pretty good position, until she swung the rest of her torso over my head. I spat out a mouthful of sand and barely had time to catch my breath when her groin connected with the back of my head. With my face planted in the quicksand, I could tell she wasn’t trying to be gentle on me. Well, I did offer, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

Julie paused, apparently exhausted by her escape. Her body weight was pushing me into the quicksand. Julie sensed this and began crawling off. My body felt much lighter as she squirmed across the remainder of the treacherous sand, leaving me floundering on my stomach.

I sort of figured that I could crawl backwards to save myself. When I tried, my legs sank into the mushy sand, as did my arms when I tried to shift my weight. Even with my body spread across the surface, I felt like I was going to fall through. As little sense it made to me then, I snapped onto my side and tried to sit up.

It resulted in me being stuck up to my waist, but it was a hell lot more comfortable than lying face-first in the stuff. I wiped the sand off my face, spitting out more of the salty mixture. My left eye was irritated from the sand and salt, but I resisted the temptation to rub it. My right eye, on the other hand, felt like it was in heaven. Julie was sitting at the base of the dune wiping the quicksand off her legs. She was actually short in height, which meant she had a petit frame. She wasn’t fully naked; it turned out she had black bikini bottoms, but that didn’t stop me from admiring the rest of her body. I keenly watched her hands pass over her thighs, stomach and breasts. She was gorgeous.

She finished cleaning the excess muck off her body at glanced at me. For a moment I thought she was going to throw something at me, but her face revealed genuine surprise.
‘Alan!’ she yelled. ‘Hold on, I’ll get you out.’
Oh, right. I’m sinking in quicksand. It’s easy to forget when you see a naked babe running towards you. It was only then that I realised how much distance I covered to rescue Julie. She was at least two body lengths away from me. Either that or the quicksand was expanding. I wasn’t sure which.
Before I could say anything, Julie waded back into the quicksand. She immediately sank to her thighs, and within seconds the quicksand was undulating around her hips. The sturdy surface I crawled across was no longer there; the sand was fully saturated with moisture and was barely holding us up. Julie looked back at the quicksand’s edge, then at me. She couldn’t any closer without moving away from the safe ground.
‘Give me your shirt!’ she shouted.
I quickly pulled off my shirt. Now that I thought about it, it was one of my more expensive ones. Bah, this wasn’t the time to think about that. I held onto one sleeve and threw the other end to Julie. The quicksand was up to my chest, and Julie was settling to her waist. We both knew that it was going to be a close race against time.
Julie slowly pulled on the other sleeve. She would’ve done it quicker, but the harder she pulled, the more she sank herself deeper. The shirt felt heavy from soaking up so much moisture. I hoped it meant that it wouldn’t tear apart, though I had a gut instinct that I was horribly wrong. Progress was slow; being up to my chest, I could only plough forward like an ice-breaker. A small bow wave was forming around my torso, spilling over my shoulders. I could barely see Julie from where I was, but she looked like she was up to her ribs.
‘Hang on Alan!’

The sand closed over my mouth and nose. I remembered that in most films, it’s at this point where something goes wrong, like the rescuer gets shot by the antagonist, or something as innocuous as the vine breaking, throwing the heroine back into peril. I felt a surge of panic as the quicksand closed over my eyes. I tried to clear my thoughts, but the same words ran through my mind. Please don’t rip; please don’t rip.
My head reappeared within moments. I couldn’t open my eyes because of the sand, but I was gasping for air the moment my nose and mouth came up. Julie wrapped her hand around the back of my head and lifted my chin up. She dropped the shirt and placed her other arm under my armpit, dragging me towards her. I managed a glimpse of her breasts again, right before the bulge of sand swept over them. My body slid towards her; my bare chest made contact with her hardened nipples. I heard her moan as she felt my body weight push against hers. She tried to keep me going, but instead her shoulders slid under.
‘No!’ she cried. ‘No!’
‘Come on!’ I heard myself yelling. ‘We’re nearly there!’
I surged forward, driving my left arm forward and downwards in a swimming motion. The quicksand was starting to feel like the sawdust quicksand I see in Hollywood movies, and shifting back into a horizontal position, I could feel myself begin to float, but only slightly. My left arm ploughed into the quicksand again, this time my right arm was wrapped around Julie. I was clawing forward more than I was swimming or wading. Julie groaned softly, but I continued to force our way out. The edge couldn’t be that far away.

I couldn’t feel the solid sand with my hand, but I felt it underfoot first. I must have reached the shallower patch. I let my legs slide downwards until I felt both my feet touch the solid sand underneath, and with my arms till around Julie’s chest, I began wading through the quicksand. The sand offered little resistance; either that or I felt more energetic as I got closer to safety. The base of the dune was just another stride away. I swung Julie to the front. She pushed off from my body and lunged for the solid sand. She heaved her chest onto it, pulling herself out with some effort. Her skin glistened with sweat and sand, her waist reappearing, followed by her bikini bottom, and finally her legs. She turned, offered her hand, and helped extricate me from my peril.

We both collapsed on the dune, covered from head to toe in wet sand. As I gasped for air, I took in a good glimpse of Julie’s naked form. I couldn’t help but admire her slim figure and small breasts covered in quicksand. This time Julie took notice and glared at me.

‘Don’t get any ideas, Alan,’ she cautioned. ‘We’re on a deserted island. No one has to know if I’ve murdered you out of spite.’
‘After what I’ve done for you?’ I asked, cocking my eyebrow.
‘Oh please. Just because I’m naked doesn’t mean I’m helpless. And as a sign of good faith, I demand your shirt.’
I looked out into the quicksand we just escaped from. My shirt could barely be seen floating on the surface.
‘You can go and get it yourself,’ I said.
Julie grunted and crossed her arms over her chest. ‘I’m not giving you any pleasure.’
‘I wouldn’t dare ask.’
‘Not playing the Hollywood hero role anymore?’
I heard a horn in the distance. I turned out to sea, spotting a fishing trawler heading towards our island. Julie was right; it didn’t take long for help to arrive. Bah, how could one have some privacy on deserted islands when your neighbours can pop around whenever they feel like it?
‘Well?’ Julie asked, in a much softer tone.
‘I’m no Hollywood hero,’ I said, admitting my humility. ‘I wasn’t really serious about…you know, getting something in return…and, well…’
I couldn’t finish my train of thought. Next thing I knew, Julie wrapped her arms around me, squeezed me tightly and gave me a sloppy kiss.
‘If you send this to Hollywood, don’t forget me,’ she said, looking into my eyes.
‘You want royalties?’ I asked.
‘No,’ she replied with a smirk. ‘I’m an actor. I want the lead role.’

[PM2K]

Now there's another classic! Thanks for the repost!

[YerKiddin]

That one was new for me! FUN! Thanks for (re)posting!