"Castaways" (closed)

ToniTaylor

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"Castaways"

closed

Sex Slave Holding Camp
Somewhere in the Western Pacific
12 March 2024 -- 0030 hours:


Claire Clark slipped out of her bed, cringing at the feel of the cold tile against her bare feet and the cold air on her underdressed body. With the exception of bras and panties, the hostages were required to store their clothing in lockers in a room that was subsequently locked up until the next day. This was done to minimize the likelihood that any of the current 44 young women held here would try to flee in the night. Night time temperatures were barely above freezing, the grounds around the building were covered in sharp, flesh-cutting, volcanic gravel for more than a hundred yards, and -- as if that wasn't enough -- the facility was on a small island with no other land in sight.

The girls here -- wherever here was -- weren't going anywhere other than where the people holding them wanted them to go.

At least, that's what their captors thought.

Claire made her way across the dorm to her sister's bed, finding the 18 year old laying there wide eyed and anxious. Betsy rose at her 20 year old sibling's arrival, falling in behind Claire as she crept quickly but quietly along the wall. At the end of the building, they passed through the door-less entry to the Hygiene Room.

They paused just inside at the sight of one of the male guards -- trousers and boxers around his knees -- leaning back against a sink as a young panties-and-bra-clad woman energetically sucked his cock. With one hand at the back of the hostage's head, encouraging her to take as much as his length as possible into her warm, wet mouth, the man pointed with the other hand toward a bag laying on the floor in the corner.

Claire didn't hesitate, hurrying for the pack and ripping out the clothing and shoes inside. As she hurriedly dressed in clothes that were not her own, she looked back to the guard, whose face was filled with the joy of impending orgasm. She looked to her sister, whispering, "Hurry."

The guard grunted in ecstasy, holding the third woman's head in place as he filled her mouth with his ejaculate. By the time he was coming down from his high, Claire and Betsy were fulling dressed. The elder sister moved over to the scantily clad woman -- now leaning back with her haunches on her heels as she cleaned her face -- and forced a set of clothes into her hands, repeating, "Hurry."

She tossed her coat onto the countertop and looked to the heavily breathing guard as he unhurriedly put his clothes back together. She asked in whisper, "Everything's set?"

He only nodded at first, unable to immediately form words as his brain and body were still enjoying the euphoria of the very skillful blowjob. As Claire waited for more than just a head gesture, he informed her, "The boat's at the dock, and the crew's in their quarters drunk or asleep or both, with the exception of my guy, who I guess you could say was your guy, too."

"The Tower Guard?" she asked as she looked to the other two women to ensure they were ready to go.

"He's a drinker," the Guard said, telling Claire nothing she didn't already know. "I put something in the bottle he hides. He'll be out cold by now, and he doesn't get relieved until oh-four-hundred."

"Good," she said, keeping her appreciation for his efforts simple. She asked the two other young women, "You ready?"

They both nodded. Claire could see the continuing anxiety in her younger sister's face; Betsy knew what was coming, and while Claire knew this was difficult for her sister, she knew it was also necessary. She looked to the guard, then to her coat, asking, "Hand me that, okay?"

The guard had to partially turn his back to Claire to retrieve the thick jacket. When he did, she grasped a handful of his hair to claim control over his head, whipped out a shiv she'd made just this day from her toothbrush, and rapidly and repeatedly stabbed the man in the throat. Her first concern had been to damage his voice box to prevent him from calling out; her second had been to puncture his blood vessels or veins -- she didn't care which, as long as they were major ones -- and lead him quickly toward death. She accomplished both, and after a very short struggle against her, the guard fell to his knees, then to his belly. Blood very quickly began spreading across the tile.

"Let's go," Claire growled in whisper as she looked to the other two women. Betsy's face was filled with horror as she stared at the red spreading all about the man's head and shoulders, but the third female -- Aurora -- only leaned over the man and spat at him. Claire understood the woman's feelings, as she, too, had had to service the man's sexual needs to make this evening happen. She growled again, "Let's go!"

Claire turned to leave ... and found herself staring into the eyes of yet another kidnapped young woman destined for the sex slave market. Tamara was wide eyed as was Betsy, but not because of the blood. She asked in whisper with a tone of disappointment, "You're escaping ... and you didn't say anything about it to me?"

Claire -- who, with her sister, had been in the camp almost three months, longer than almost anyone else -- had tried not to get close to the others, knowing what her, Betsy's, and the others' fate was. But she'd gotten to know Tamara enough to feel guilty about the question she'd been asked.

Quickly, Claire grasped Tamara's hand and pulled her closer to the dead guard, saying, "Help me out of his clothes. You're going with us."

The other three women were each surprised at Claire's suddenly addition, but no one said anything. In a flash, Tamara was wearing the dead guard's shirt, coat, pants, and boots, all of which were seriously too large for her.

The foursome slipped quietly back out into the dorm and then out the building's exit. The now-dead guard had unscrewed the light bulb over the door, and combined with the passed out tower guard and the low illumination of the waxing crescent moon, they were able to get all the way to the boat dock without being seen. They slowed and proceeded cautiously, knowing that if they were to be caught, it would happen here. Claire had serviced the man on the boat a couple of times during her two month long preparation for this night, and while he'd agreed to the plan, she wasn't putting any faith in him, particularly after she'd just killed his friend.

Movement on the boat caught her attention, and a moment later, the man -- she'd been told his name was Robert -- was frantically waving them his way. They sped up and hurried aboard as the the boatman leaped out onto the dock to untie the lines securing the boat in place.

As the boat began to push away, Claire looked back to the shoreline ... and began to believe that maybe this nightmare was finally over.
 
Robert Lundy often wondered just how he'd come to be part of a human trafficking operation. His life had been a series of unfortunate misadventures and ever worsening criminal activities, but sex trafficking? He wished he could say that when he signed on he had no idea what he was part of, but he couldn't. An acquaintance from a prior contracting gig, George Tallow, had justified the job by pointing out that the two of them weren't kidnapping the women themselves but were only protecting them once they arrived in Japan.

"These people, our employers, are gonna do this with or without us," George had argued. "These girls need us to protect them while in transit to wherever they're going, doncha think? We're actually the good guys."

It had been a bullshit argument, of course, but it (and the big fucking paycheck) had been enough to push him to join up. Almost right away, though, Robert knew he couldn't be a part of this. Many of the women were barely legal age wise by US standards, in many cases so very innocent, both emotionally and physically. Regardless of their age and innocence (or lack thereof), they were all vulnerable and frightened to one degree or another. Even the ones who felt physically and emotionally strong were vulnerable as his employers would break their spirit if necessary to facilitate their sale into sexual servitude.

Robert began looking for a way out, only to be told by George that to leave without their employers' permission would be tantamount to suicide. "They'll hunt you down, and if they can't find you, they'll go after your family. You need to serve out your four year contract, then leave with your boatload of cash and don't look back."

Robert had no family about which he had to worry, but George (who'd vouched for him) did. So, 9 months later, Robert was still here.

Then, miracle of miracles, George came to Robert a couple of weeks ago with good news and bad news. Bad news first, the only family members about whom he cared, his mother and sister, had both recently passed, the first from complications of age and the second two months later in a car crash.

"There's nothing preventing me from getting the fuck outta Dodge now," George had told Robert, adding, "Meaning that there is nothing keeping you here either."

"And that's the good news?" Robert had asked. "We're getting out of here?"

"No, the good news is we're getting out of here with a million dollars!" George had explained, adding, "Each!"

George explained that he'd been approached by one of the women, Claire Clark, the very first day she and her sister arrived. She'd claimed to be the daughter of some wealthy, powerful mobster in the States. "I checked it out, and it's legit. I contacted the man, and he's promised us two mil' to get his daughters safely back to him."

At that point in the conversation, George had pulled out his phone, tapped an icon, and showed Robert the screen. It had shown the My Account page of a Swiss Bank and the balance.

"One hundred grand," George said. "I called this guy Clark, told him I knew where his daughters were and that I could get them out safely, and thirty minutes later, after I told him some personal details Claire had said I would need, I got an email with the details to this account. It's legit! It's not a con. It's my money. It's our money, and there's another one point nine mil' coming our way, if we just get these girls out."

Robert hadn't been entirely convinced and had told George he needed to talk to the elder sister. Claire had convinced him to help, though, if not by the words that came from her mouth but by what she did to his cock with that mouth three times since.

No one knew how long the sisters had before they were sent from the island to be auctioned, but very few women stayed on the island more than three weeks. Robert and George formulated a plan, using the supply boat as their method of escape. It all looked so simple: get the sisters (and a friend they said must come, too) out of the dorm and down to the boat, disable the GPS to make the vessel invisible, and simply sail away. The craft would have enough fuel to reach Miyasaki, on Kyushu's east coast. Mister Clark should have already by now been over the Pacific in a chartered, private jet, coming to collect his girls and transfer the promised $1.9 million that was still outstanding.

But when Robert caught sight of the figures silently approaching the dock in the dark, it was obvious that while there were four people as expected, George was not amongst them. He gestured them aboard as he himself leaped onto the dock to untie the lines.

"Where's George?" he asked, looking between the women. He recognized Claire, of course, from the short conversations and pleasurable blow jobs. He had met Betsy twice, and while he would have loved to have her mouth wrapped around his cock, too, they'd never as much as exchanged pleasantries. The third face he recognized was that of Aurora, another of the captives who had been pleasuring George in an effort to seal the pact between them all. The fourth face was that of Aurora, a dark skinned beauty Robert didn't know at all. He asked again with more volume and emphasis, "Where the fuck is George?"
 
"Where's George?" the second male participant of the escape called, following up with more urgency, "Where the fuck is George?"

"He's dead!" Claire called as she helped the other three women onto the rocking boat. She looked to Robert, studying him for a moment with concern that their flight from captivity was going to end right here, right now. When the man simply stared at her, Claire lied with a convincing tone, "Another guard surprised us while we were dressing. George jumped him, but the guy had a knife. I'm sorry, Robert ... but he isn't coming ... but we have to go ... now!"

She gestured the girls to the hatch that went below deck, not wanting them to be topside. The boat had arrived after dark, as was its normal schedule, and most of the supplies it had delivered to the island were still aboard, save for a crate of alcohol, cigarettes, and other vices. If the crew in the barracks just 50 yards away or one of the other three guards in the more distant towers realized the vessel was leaving, there would be trouble, possibly even gunfire.

Once the three others were out of sight, Claire turned to Robert again and begged, "Please! We have to go. You'll still get your money ... all of it, all two million. Or, you can give half to George's family, it doesn't matter to me and it doesn't matter to my father. All that matters is that we get this fucking boat away from this dock ... now!"
 
"He's dead!"

Robert had just thrown the last line into the boat as the mobster's daughter answered his question. He just stood there, staring, unsure of how to react. She explained what had happened and begged him to get into the boat and get them out of there. As the gap between the boat and the dock began to widen, Robert instinctively jumped over the railing into the stern, watching three of the four women disappear below deck.

"Please! We have to go," Claire begged.

Robert just stared at her as Claire spoke about the millions her father had promised for her safe return. The loss of George was stunning, and he was at a loss of how to proceed. Not for a moment did he disbelieve Claire regarding the story of George's death. But without the ring leader of this little but dangerous operation, Robert was racked with uncertainty.

Claire ended her pleas with, "All that matters is that we get this fucking boat away from this dock ... now!"

"Right," Robert said softly, still lost in the changes. George is dead. What the fuck do you do now? With or without George, the task now was to get away from this fucking island and Robert's dangerous employers. He snagged Claire by the arm and turned her toward a heavy line that ran out over the boat's transom and disappeared into the darkness. "Help me pull this."

Robert moved to the back of the boat, used his feet to gain leverage, and pulled hard on the rope. He looked to Claire, who looked at him with confusion, and growled, "Pull the fucking rope. Get the girls up here again. We all need to pull if we are going to get out of here without the engines."

What the four females couldn't have known was that Robert and George had made it possible for the boat to get away from the dock without having to fire up the engines. As the craft was nearing the dock and George was distracting the deck hands at the bow with false concerns about objects in the water, Robert had very skillfully lassoed one of the rotting posts of a pier that had long ago been abandoned and, subsequently, collapsed into the sea during a fierce storm.

"Pull!" he told the four after Claire had called the others back up again.
After a bit, the long line began to move over the transom into the boat, indicating that the vessel was moving. It was slow at first, and Robert could hear the others grunting along with him as first inches, then feet of heavy and now wet line entered the boat and piled up behind the last girl. They brought in almost one hundred feet of cordage before Robert told them, "That's good. We're good."

He went to the port railing and looked back to the dock and the crew building.
There was no sign that anyone was wise to the boat's very early and unauthorized departure. He retrieved a rope ax he'd had handy, raised it over the transom, and brought it down hard, cutting the rope nearly through. One more whack, and they were disconnected from the rotting piling.

"The current is strong here, west-by-northwest," Robert told Claire. "We'll let the boat drift a while, until I think we can start it without anyone hearing us. We'll be fine."

He looked to the other sister, then back to Claire. Smiling sincerely, he told her, "You're going home."
 
"Help me pull this."

Claire didn't immediately understand what Robert was doing with the rope that ran out the back of the boat, but she did as he ordered. Soon, all 5 of them were tugging on the sea water drenched rope, and looking over her shoulder, Claire could see that the dock was moving away ... or, actually, the boat was.

It seemed like forever before Robert told them, "That's good. We're good."

There was dozens on feet of rope piled on the boats deck behind them, and all 4 women were exhausted from the exertion. Claire looked to Robert and saw the effects of the intense workout on him as well.

"Can we start the motor now and get out of here?" she asked, no longer whispering.

"The current is strong here, west-by-northwest," he told Claire. "We'll let the boat drift a while, until I think we can start it without anyone hearing us. We'll be fine."

Claire looked to the women and could see the effect on them of what they'd just gone through and what they'd been[/b] going through. She told them, "Go down below deck, find food and water ... look for a place to rest ... sleep, get some sleep."

Aurora and Tamara did as told, but Betsy remained close to her sister. She was looking at Claire with an anxious expression; Betsy was sure that her older sister was going to kill Robert as she had George.

"You're going home," Robert told them.

Claire studied the man -- their savior -- for a moment ... as, unseen by him or her sister, she clutched tightly to the still bloody shiv that had ended the life of their second savior. She was sure she could take him right now; Robert wasn't expecting anything like that from her, she believed.

Yet instead, Claire took hold of Betsy's hand and turned her toward the boat's cabin, saying over her shoulder, "I'm going to take off my sister. Do you need anything from us?"

Robert told them no, and the siblings went below to join the other pair. Tamara was again down to her bra and pantries, shedding George's bloodied clothes and donning some clean, closer-to-her-own-sized clothes she found in a locker. Aurora was no where to be seen, but Claire would find her soon enough in a small berthing area, crying herself to sleep. Claire would cover her with a blanket and let her rest.

"We all need sleep," she told the other two as she searched the cupboards for food and water. She distributed both to the girls, telling then, "Find a bunk."

Claire shooed them forward toward the berthing areas, then dropped into a vinyl covered floatation seat to eat and drink. She hopped up to search some more and found a bottle of Rum. Smiling, she took a couple of small swigs, then headed up to the main deck.

"I'm sorry about your friend," she lied with a tone that sounded sincere. She offered out the bottle, adding, "We wouldn't have made it out without him. Were you close friends?"

She hesitated, to give Robert an opportunity to answer if he wished to do so. Then, Claire added, "I ask ... because I was sucking both of your cocks ... and I wondered sometimes how you felt about that ... you know ... if you were friends."
 
"I'm going to take care of my sister," Claire told Robert. "Do you need anything from us?"

"No, we're good, nothing to do," he told her, still whispering. When he realized it was no longer necessary, he told her, "Go, go below. I got this."

He watched the older sister help the younger one to and through the hatch, and despite the situation they were in, Robert still couldn't help but give the ass of each a solid stare for a few seconds each. The Clark sisters were both very beautiful, very sexy young women, and Robert had fantasized multiple times a day about being with each of them, even both of them together, since the first time Claire had gone down on him.

That had been unexpected, getting blown by Claire that first time. George had come to him with this crazy story about banking $2 million dollars by saving just two of the dozens of women in their charge. Robert hadn't believed it, of course, and had demanded that he speak to Claire before making any commitments.

George had made the arrangements to sneak the elder Clark to one of the outbuildings where Robert was waiting. The young beauty set about trying to convince him that the promise of a seven figure payoff was legitimate. Then...
 
Claire had never been shy about doing what was needed to get what she wanted. Oh, she was neither a whore or a slut in her eyes. She was simply willing to use her knowledge and skills at pleasuring men -- or even women -- when it was necessary to achieve an end.

So when Robert seemed hesitant and was unsure about her commitment, Claire moved up to him, stared up into his eyes, and began unbuckling his belt. It came loose, as did the button and then the zipper of his pants. She told him with a serious and suggestive tone, "I'll do what I have to do to get me and my sister out of here and back home."

A moment later, Claire had Robert's swelling cock in her hands, and a moment after that -- now down on her knees before him -- she had his now hard as rock erection in her mouth. She'd always been good at this. She'd been deathly afraid of getting pregnant when she began getting sexual with her first boyfriend. The answer to both of them enjoying the euphoria of orgasm had been oral sex, and over the year that proceeded her finally getting birth control, Claire had emptied her boyfriend's balls into her mouth an innumerable amount of times.

Her head bobbed to and fro quickly while one hand helped at the base of his shaft and the other gently fondled his balls. It wasn't long before Robert's cock began leaping between her soft, warm lips, filling her mouth. After his ejaculations had come to an end and she'd licked his shaft and head clean, as well as her lips and chin where some of his jizz had gotten loose, she stood up before the man again and smiled.

"Two million dollars to split between you," she said, referring to the promised money for her and her sister's freedom from this hell. Then, licking at a last little bit of cum on the edge of her mouth, she added to the promise, "And I'll blow you every chance we get."

Every chance, it would turn out, would only be twice more. But the combination of the payoff and the blow off had been enough to get Robert to risk his life for her and Betsy's.
 
That day in the outbuilding had been incredible. Despite his age and his adventures about the world, Robert had never fully enjoyed a blowjob like he had that day with Claire Clark. He'd never been driven to orgasm via oral only, let alone cum in a woman's mouth.

"Two million dollars to split between you," Claire had promised him that day, even as his chest was still expanding and contracting from the pleasure, "And I'll blow you every chance we get."

Robert had wished that every chance was three times a day or more, of course. He'd never experienced such erotic joy before. But the planning and preparations for getting the Clark girls out -- and another girl, Aurora, it would turn out -- had made keeping distance between them unfortunate necessary. The last thing Robert wanted was for the people above him to sense there was something untoward going on between him, George, and the Clark girls.



"I'm sorry about your friend."

Robert flinched at the sound of Claire's voice as she ascended the ladder from the cabin to the main deck. She had a bottle of Rum, which she offered out. "We wouldn't have made it out without him. Were you close friends?"

Robert stared at the bottle a few seconds, took it, and took a big gulp. He handed it back, answering, "Friends. Not close, though. Acquaintances maybe. We worked a job together before this."

"I ask ... because I was sucking both of your cocks..." she said, not telling Robert anything he didn't already know. "...and I wondered sometimes how you felt about that ... you know ... if you were friends."

Robert looked out over the sea toward the lights of the island. He took the bottle back for another gulp, and said with a bit of humor in his voice, "Friends share things, right?"

He looked to Claire, smiling as he returned the bottle to the young woman, then said, "I'm not doing this because you sucked my cock, in case you were wondering. It was nice. Hell, it was very nice. But I don't expect you to continue doing it, even though you said you would."

He gestured for the bottle again, and as Claire handed it to him, Robert told her with a sincere tone, "What happened to you, to you and your sister, to all of those girls, was just wrong. I'm doing this because of that, because it was just wrong, not because of the blow jobs, and not even because of the million bucks. If I could have saved all of those girls, I would have."

He sucked on the bottle, handed it back, then said, "Maybe your father can do something about these people."

George had told Robert what little he knew about Mister Clark, and Robert had wondered often whether he was a man who could or would take a swing at an organization like what Robert was part of. He'd also wondered about something else, something a bit more personal: instead of handing him a satchel with a million dollars in it, was Mister Clark more likely to put a bullet through Robert's head?

"It's time," he said, turning for the ladder that led up to the vessel's bridge. "I'm firing up the engines. We'll head southeast for a few hours, then east, then northeast. The original plan was to enter the Port of Miyasaki from the north two days from now, but I think it's better if we contact your father tomorrow and have him rent a seaplane and come out to meet us. I told George that was a better option, but..."

He hesitated a moment, then looked to Claire and said with a concerned tone, "George was convinced that your father was going to kill us as soon as he knew the two of you were safe, rather than pay us off. He had, George I mean, he had a plan to make sure we got the money before we turned you over."

Robert hesitated a moment, then said with a sincere tone, "I don't care if I get paid, Claire. One million, two million. Ten bucks, I don't care. I'll get you and your sister back to your father safely. If he pays me, great. If he doesn't, well, so be it. The only thing I want out of this is to get out of it. I just..."

He drew a deep breath as he looked out toward the diminishing lights of the sex slave compound, then told Claire, "I just want to go back to my life, as sucky as it was."

He ascended the ladder, moved forward to the bridge, and fired up the motors. A moment later, the board was turning to port, aiming the bow to the southeast. Robert believed they were heading for freedom and a better life. He couldn't have known that in less than two hours, the boat and its passengers would be caught in a storm that would lead the five of them to an existence they couldn't have imagined.
 
"Friends share things, right?"

Claire couldn't help but laugh at Robert's response. She knew Robert had known she was sucking George's cock as well as his. But did he know that George had raped her once as well? The bigger, meaner, and more aggressive of the pair had bent Claire over a work table in the outbuilding where they used to meet to discuss the escape and forced himself into both of her holes. It had happened just after George had told her that they'd be moving on the plan in three days time.

It was, of course, the reason Claire had jabbed a shiv into his throat several times a couple of hours earlier this very night.

She'd had the sense that Robert likely knew nothing about it at first. Now, though -- as he spoke of wishing Claire, Betsy, and even the other two their freedom without the big payday -- she wondered if perhaps he did know and felt guilt for the rape, despite having nothing to do with it.

"Maybe your father can do something about these people," Robert mused.

Without hesitation, Claire said as she looked off toward the island, "Oh, my father's gonna burn this fucking place down."

"It's time."

Robert turned for the ladder to the vessel's bridge, explaining how he would use the satellite phone to contact Claire's father for her rescue. He finished, "If he pays me, great. If he doesn't, well, so be it. The only thing I want out of this is to get out of it. I just. I just want to go back to my life, as sucky as it was."

"I won't let my father kill you," Claire told Robert, causing him to pause and look at her. She repeated, "I won't let my father kill you, Robert. And you will get paid. I promise."

They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, and Claire wondered if they had met under very different circumstances -- circumstances in which she hadn't been destined for a life of sexual servitude and he hadn't been one of her jailors -- could they have been lovers or perhaps just friends. She couldn't answer that question now, of course.

Robert ascended the ladder, and a moment later the motors roared and the boat began moving under its own power as opposed to that of Mother Nature. Claire returned below to find that all three women were sacked out, Tamara and Aurora in beds in the crew berthing areas and Betsy on a bench seat in the galley. Claire found and laid over her shivering sister a second blanket, then squeezed in behind the girl to hold her tightly to her.

They were going home...



They were two full hours into the storm before the slamming of a wave against the hull awoke Claire with a start. She lifted her upper body to look and listen, realizing quickly what was happening. She shook Betsy gently, telling her younger sibling when she awoke, "Go find a real bed. We're in a storm. Find a place to lay down where you won't end up falling out on your head."

Claire helped her sister to the passageway leading forward through the lower deck, then dressed against the weather in an oversized man's jacket and a pair of boots which -- despite being the smallest she could find -- were still three sized too large for her feet.

Up the ladder and forward, Claire found Robert at the wheel of the boat, fighting fierce winds and growing waves. He looked concerned to say the least. In a previous conversation about the escape plan, Robert had told her that he'd been in boats on the open seas before but he was no sailor. She knew he'd been in the Army, but right about now, she would have been more confident about his handling of the boat in the storm if he'd been in the Navy.

"What can I do?" she asked after another big wave pounded the side of the boat. "Robert! Tell me what to do!"
 
They'd barely made it 30 nautical miles away from the island before the boat entered the storm front. Over the next couple of hours, it was being tossed about ever more seriously by waves that got taller in winds that got stronger. Robert had spent time on his grandfather's boat at a kid and again on that same boat with his father after the Army. He understood what was required to keep a boat afloat in bad seas. Unfortunately, that meant turning the bow into the storm, which was coming at them from west-by-southwest. That was essentially the opposite direction they wanted to go.

"What can I do?" Claire asked when she got up to the bridge. "Robert! Tell me what to do!"

"Hold on tight!" was Robert's response. He looked to Claire and shrugged his shoulders. "We have to ride it out. Then we can turn back, back west. We're gonna lose a day, maybe two. But we'll be fine. Trust me."

Even as he was saying it, Robert knew he was lying. The boat was not made for seas like this. It was a passenger ferry built for use on rivers, bays, and sounds.
It had been on the Mississippi for over two decades, then in Washington State's Puget Sound for another two decades after that. Some Canadian Expat who'd married into a Nagasaki-based transportation company had had the boat towed to Nagasaki. It was to serve as the flagship for a waterborne tour company he was establishing. The company failed to materialize, and the boat was auctioned off. Of course, Robert and George's bosses were the ones who purchased it.

Long story short, it wasn't made for what it was going through. And Robert was getting worried, despite his reassurances to Claire. "Go below. Make sure the girls are okay and calm and all that. There's nothing to worry about. However, maybe you should look for life jackets and floatation devices. You know. Just in case."



The boat was tossed about for nearly 28 hours before Robert knew the fight was lost. Without a trained crew to do what was needed in this situation, water building in the bilges had swamped the engines and the boat had lost power. They'd been drifting for hours in the dark, rocking and rolling at the whim of the Gods. Only when the storm began to abate and the sky began to lighten did Robert see the silhouette of land at which they were being pushed.

"Life jackets!" he called to Claire as she came up again to check in. He pointed to the rocky shoreline that was now less than half a mile away, telling her, "We're gonna hit it. We're gonna get torn to shreds. Get the girls in life jackets, and get ready to jump."
 
Claire was scared, as were each of the other three women aboard the boat. She'd learned from Robert during one of her visits topside that it was called the Agatha James and had no business being out here in the open ocean. For more than a day -- through the dark of night, the stormy gray of daytime, and into the night again -- the ferry suffered pitch, roll, and something Robert called yaw. Basically, it had moved every which way possible, leading each of the four women to puke her guts up at least once.

Then, as the sky beyond the porthole windows began to reveal the approach of the second day at sea, Claire awoke and hurried topside when she realized she wasn't hearing the motors.

"Life jackets!" Robert called to her when he caught sight of her.

She followed his gesture toward port to see what looked like a rocky island ... land that was far too fucking close for a boat that was simply bobbing atop the still rough seas.

"We're gonna hit it," Robert warned her. "We're gonna get torn to shreds. Get the girls in life jackets, and get ready to jump."

Running aground hadn't even been a thought to Claire until this moment. She'd thought they were far out to sea, away from land, but over the minutes, hours, and days to come, she would find herself thinking back to this moment and asking herself, Why the fuck would you have thought that...? Japan has like a million little islands! Why would you have thought there would be nothing about but ocean?

She rushed down into the cabin again, thankfully finding all three of the other women fully dressed and either in or holding their life jackets. She gave them a serious look, then passed on the word, "We're gonna run aground. We have to abandon ship."

"Abandon ship?" Tamara asked in shock. "What the fuck is this, Titanic?"

Claire grabbed her sister and pulled her toward the hatch, and the other pair followed quickly behind them. A huge wave hit the boat broadside, causing it to roll to port, then back to starboard, all the time also rising and falling. The result was that all four of them lost their footing to one degree or another, with Aurora slipping on a wet step and falling to the deck, screaming about her ankle. They got her up and helped her to the main deck, just as another wave hit the Agatha James, repeating the earlier movement. Female passengers spilled all about the wet deck, grabbing for anything on which they could establish a hold.

"Get to the stern," Claudia hollered, clarifying, "Get to the back! Hurry, get to the back of the boat!"

Claudia remained where she was, near the bottom of the ascending ladder, watching the other three working their way back. She hollered upwards for Robert, toward the bridge where he was still doing whatever he thought would help. She tried to make an attempt to go upward, but a third big wave knocked her against a railing, then onto the deck.

Confident that Robert knew what he was doing, Claudia struggled to meet the women at the back railing. She and Betsy lifted the inflatable life raft and swinging it back and forth with a one, two, three! they tossed it over the railing as hard as they could. It hit the water and, by design, immediately began inflating.

"Go!" she told Betsy, before looking to each of the others, commanding, "Get to the boat."

As Claudia turned forward again, Betsy asked, "Where the hell are you going?"

"I have to find Robert," she said. "I have to make sure he's coming ... that he's alright."

Betsy tried to get her sister to jump overboard, too, but Claudia hurried forward. She climbed the ladder, rushed awkwardly to the bridge, and slid the door open to find Robert laying on the ground, blood staining the back of his head and collar as he struggled to get back to his feet. She didn't bother looking for what had hit him because that wasn't important now. Instead, she helped him to his feet and told him, "Robert! We gotta get out of here!"

They made it to the stern, a deck above where the others were ... or had been, as they were all three now either in the raft or trying to climb into it. Claudia climbed over the edge, positioned herself to leap, and looked to Robert.
Laughing, she said, "I fucking hated Titanic!"

And with that, she leaped out into the sea, falling a deck farther than the other three had. She penetrated the surf, feeling the cold water surround her for a moment before the buoyancy of the lift jacket practically threw her back up out of the sea. She bounced on the surface again, then without hesitation began swimming for the raft. When she reached it, the others all helped pull her over the side and into the inflatable's bottom.

"Where's Robert?" she asked, still laying on her back. "Find him. Did he make it?"

When the women searched the water between the two boats but did not respond, Claire attempted to rise. The waves hitting the small raft and the awkwardness of trying to move about in the bulky life jacket kept Claudia down. Several times, the surf raised the boat and threw it inland, and each time Claudia tried but failed to sit up again.

Then, one last big wave threw them a much longer distance, and Claudia could tell when it stopped that they were -- thankfully -- on the narrow, pebble beach she'd hoped they hit, as opposed to the ragged, dangerous rocks that flanked it. Tamara and Aurora were the first to leap out, with Betsy helping her sister rise to her knees. The other pair helped them both out, and finally, Claudia got to look back toward the boat and, hopefully, Robert.

As she watched in horror, not knowing whether or not the one male in the group had gotten off, the Agatha James was picked up by another big wave that pushed it up onto the shore, just as a previous one had done with the raft. The boat continued inland until it ran right up onto a rocky outcrop that ripped into its hull.

The wave pulled back, leaving the ferry entirely out of the water, tilted inland about 30 degrees. Another big wave came in, hitting and shifting it. The sound of the wooden hull being further punctured was audible over the waves even at a hundreds away.

"Find Robert!" Claudia called as she stripped out of her life jacket. She rushed down the beach, finding movement in the deep, round pebbles difficult. She pointed out to the water, commanding, "Find him! Is he out there somewhere?"
 
When the motors quit, Robert had very quickly gone into panic. He knew enough about boats on the ocean to know that not having power was a serious threat. You needed the motors to keep the bow of the craft pointed into the waves, to prevent it from being swamped by waves or, worse, rolled entirely over.

Robert had hurried down to the engine room, unsure of what the hell he could possibly do to remedy the situation. It didn't take a genius to know he was in over his head figuratively, and very soon might be in the sea over his head, literally. He found water sloshing up through the deck plates when the ferry rolled hard. The bilge pumps were off, just like the main engines. And then, an electrical buss sparked as Robert fiddled with the engines. The electricity went out, leaving the engine room dark until the battery operated emergency lanterns came on.

The Agatha James was finished. Robert knew it. He simply didn't know how to get it operating again. Their only chance was to call for help. Robert hadn't done so yet. He had feared that alerting the Kaijō Hoan-chō, Japan's Coast Guard, would lead to his arrest. The only choice was to contact Claire and Betsy's father to see if he could arrange rescue by helicopter or sea plane. But even that wouldn't happen until after the storm had passed. And even when it did happen, wouldn't Mister Clark simply contact the Japanese Authorities to insist that they conduct the rescue? He had nothing to lose by seeking legal help. In fact, he had a lot to gain: $2 million. And Robert would yet again be heading for jail!

The alternative, though, might be drowning at sea. Robert made his way back up to the bridge, struggling against the rolling and pitching of the disabled boat. No, he had to make the call. Only, when he opened the satellite phone case, he found it shockingly empty. What the fuck? It had been there before they left the docks, Robert knew it. He'd checked for it. Hadn't he? Would George had taken it? No, he had no reason to do that. Unless he'd had some ideas in his mind about the rescue and ransom that he hadn't shared with Robert.

No. No! The phone had been there when they pulled themselves away from the dock. That meant that one of the women aboard had taken it. But who? And why? He contemplated going down to ask right now, when a massive wave hit the Agatha James, sending it hard to port and Robert hard to starboard. He lost his footing, hit the deck, and slid until he slammed against the bulkhead.

He'd been knocked unconscious, regaining his senses and returning to his feet just as Claire appeared. He sent her below to get herself and the others into their life jackets, ready to abandon ship. He forgot about the satellite phone and instead went down to the main deck aft to ensure that the life raft was prepared.

In the days of service as a passenger ferry, the Agatha James had had a dozen of the six person inflatables positioned all about the main and second deck. But the rafts had been stolen or auctioned or simply discarded before or after the mother ship was itself auctioned. After being towed to Japan, only two such emergency boats were now aboard.

Returning to the bridge, Robert tried in vain to fire up the engines again. Another big wave broke something loose in the overhead, the object coming down to strike Robert. Again, he was out cold on the deck. The next thing he knew, he was in Claudia's arms as she urged him back to consciousness.

"Robert! We gotta get out of here!"

Together, they made it to the stern of the second level. Robert helped Claudia over the railing, laughing at her critical comment on the movie about the most famous shipwreck of all time. She leaped out into the rolling surf, and Robert set about loosing the latches of the second life raft. Another big wave struck again, though, sending him to the deck again. He slid one way until he slammed into some object, then the other, repeating the collision.

He was in pain, seriously enough to make rising to his feet difficult. It took a while to reorient himself upright, only to be thrown around by successive waves. And then, Fuck! As another big wave lifted the Agatha James upward and pushed it toward the rocky island, Robert realized that they were going to land upon a rocky crag sticking up out of the pebble stone beach. He searched for something solid, grabbed it, and held for dear life as he both felt and heard the ferry's hull being ripped apart on the rocks.

Ironically, the boat was suddenly almost motionless. Robert waited a moment, which turned out to be a good idea. Another wave pushed the Agatha James farther up on the rock, her hull breaking up more. But then a long moment passed, and Robert stood to make his way up the tilted-to-port deck for a view.
The surf was still surging, as it had for millions of years. But it was no longer striking the ferry's hull with enough power to either move it farther up the rocky shore or dislodge it from the crag.

Looking down the shore, Robert found the brightly colored life raft, then one by one all four of the women. Two of them were coming his way; he would realize it was Claire and Betsy soon enough. The other two were standing on the shore, seeming to search the sea, maybe for him?

"I'm here!" Robert called out, waving his hands over his head. They couldn't hear him over the crashing waves, of course, but that didn't keep him from calling again, "I'm here! On the boat! I'm okay!"

What now? he thought to himself, looking about the tilted boat and the less threatening sea. Salvage. Get what you can while you can. Robert returned to the bridge and searched for the satellite phone again to no avail. He unlocked a bridge locker, retrieving a rifle, a pistol, a flare gun, and a box of ammunition (and flares) for each.

By the time he had his hands full and got to the port side, Claudia was nearby, looking up at him. He smiled, relieved to see her safe and unhurt. He gestured to the firearms, calling down, "I'm going to salvaging all I can. I'll throw a ladder over. Come help me."

He did as he said he would, left what he'd already gathered at the railing, and returned to the bridge for binoculars, a compass, and just about anything not nailed down that he thought they might need in the days to come. Days to come, he thought. Surely they wouldn't be here very long, right? They were only a couple of dozen miles from the coast of Japan's third largest island. Surely the wreckage of the Agatha James would be seen by one of the many boats or planes that transited this area every day.

What Robert didn't know was that even before they'd lost the engines, the ferry had been pushed much farther to the southwest than he could have imagined. The rock on which they were now castaways was 110 miles from where Robert imagined they were. Not only that, it wasn't within surface sight of either of the nearest two shipping routes, which meant that no ship crew was going to spot them unless it was night time and they'd build one fucking huge bonfire. And unless some pilot was out for a joy ride or tour flight over what was for the most part open and featureless ocean, they weren't going to be seen from the air either.
 
Claire was surprisingly relieved when he caught sight of Robert alive and, apparently, safe and uninjured, for the most part. She was surprised to find him still on the Agatha James, but -- because the storm had coincided with the high tide -- the ferry was now seemingly secure upon the rocks and going no where for the time being.

"I'm going to salvaging all I can," Robert called down. "I'll throw a ladder over. Come help me."

It was awkward climbing the rope and wood slat ladder with it hanging in midair, the tilted ship's hull not there to supply support, but Claire managed. As she was reaching the main deck, Betsy and Tamara were hurrying up to the boat, asking what was happening.

"We're going to salvage what we can before Mother Nature decides she wants the boat for herself," Claire called down. "Just hang on as we figure this out."

"Why are we salvaging stuff?" Tamara called up, with Betsy asking, "What kind of stuff?"

"Where's Aurora?" Claire asked with concern. The two other women pointed down the beach, explaining that the fourth woman was going off to sea what was on the other side of the rocky cliffs. Claire returned to the questions asked, "We have no idea whether we're gonna be hear a day, a month, or a year. Better to take shit and not need it then to not and do."

Claire looked down the beach again to the fourth woman. She told her sister, "Betsy, go get Aurora. We need her help."

The three of them set about pillaging the ferry of everything of value. Fortunately, the boat hadn't been unloaded at the sex slave compound island yet, so there were lots of food, bottled water, first aid gear, fuel, blankets, personal hygiene things, and so much more.

Between them, Robert and Claire rigged up a slide using heavy line and tarps, and as fast as they could toss things onto it at the top and Tamara could unload them at the bottom, they gutted the boat.

Soon, the other two girls arrived, and Aurora reported, "This island ain't nothing but a fucking rock! There's nothing here--"

"But there's another island just a little ways away," Betsy cut in, pointing off toward the south end of the island. And ... that island's got buildings all over it. There might be people there!"
 
Robert stopped pillaging for a moment to watch Tamara make another trip up the pebble beach. Without being told, she'd taken it upon herself to get the spoils away from the surf. He could see the difficulty she had in the pebbles. He called to Claire, "Come with me."

A couple of minutes later, they were hauling lumber to the port railing and tossing it over. Apparently their had been a construction project planned for the compound island; they found 2x4s, 2x6s, 4x4s, and plywood, the latter of which they didn't try to off load, not yet anyway. Jumping down to the beach, Robert and Tamara laid the boards out to give them something to walk on other than pebbles, into which their feet sunk several inches with each step.

Now, with Claire continuing to off load stuff, Robert and Tamara caught up on moving things away from the shore. There was a scare at one point, when a big wave swept up the beach high enough to knock down the unsuspecting Tamara. It also swept away some of their loot. It didn't go far, though, and as far as they knew, they retrieved it all.

Then, Betsy and Aurora returned with the news of a second island. Betsy announced excitedly, There might be people there!"

Robert looked up to Claire with concern, then retrieved the rifle that had a scope on it and a pair of binoculars as well. "I'm going to check it out. Keep unloading the boat."

He ran off down the beach until he found a gap in the rocks. Sure enough, right where the girls said it would be was an island to the southwest. Robert realized his heart was pounding with excitement. The question was whether he was eager to see people on the island or desperate to find it deserted.

He set the rifle with its 9x scope aside and looked through the binoculars which were more than 7 times stronger. There were indeed buildings covering the island. But it was obvious even from this distance that they had been long abandoned. Robert saw hundreds of windows for dozens of apartments or offices, yet there wasn't a single pane of of fully intact glass to be found. The concrete walls of every building in sight was damaged to one degree or another. And some of the buildings had either been demolished or had collapsed in an earthquake or two or ten, not uncommon for this part of the world.

Robert studied the island and its buildings for several minutes, finding it apparently abandoned. There were no people milling about or working, no boats bobbing near where the sea walls, not even docks where the sea walls seemed to have stone steps leading downward.

He stopped looking for signs of life and instead began surveying the island for signs that it could sustain life, at least better than this rocky crag on which they were currently could. They hadn't surveyed this island yet, looking for shelter or fresh water. But if the west side of this rock in the sea was similar to the east side on which the Agatha James had been beached, it wasn't the kind of place Robert wanted to be waiting for rescue, be it a day, a week, a month, or even more.

He returned to where the four women were still unloading goods. They all looked exhausted, and Robert told them to take a break while he prepared some food for them. He built a fire out of drift wood and used a metal grill taken from the boat to cook steaks and whole potatoes. He also pulled out another bottle of Rum and some bottles of cola in which to mix them, as well as a bottle of saké.

"The seas are still too rough to even consider trying to reach the other island, but we can't stay here," Robert told them. "We need proper shelter, shelter that will also serve as cover, should our friends back at the previous island be the first ones to locate us."

They talked about their situation for almost an hour as they rested and ate. With four or five more hours of daylight, they got back to emptying the Agatha James. The best option for shelter for the night was the life raft, which had a roof and just enough room for all five of them to lay down. It would be tight, and Robert volunteered to sleep outside. But just as they were settling down for the night, a cold rain began.
 
"I'm going to check it out," Robert called to Claire about the island the other women had. "Keep unloading the boat."

Claire was torn between whether she wanted to know about some other rock in the world's largest ocean or wanted Robert to help unload the Agatha James. But she said nothing, and after the sole man in their unlucky quintet -- or lucky five-some, seeing how they were still alive? -- took off down the beach, Claire simply looked to the others and ordered, "Let's get this done, before some big ass wave takes the ship away."

They worked without Robert for over an hour, concentrating on food, water, alcohol (of course), first aid kits, bedding, clothing, and other necessities for survival. They were still working on these things when their male compatriot returned, telling them more about the island.

"We're going there, right?" Tamara asked, adding, "It's gotta be better than this place."

"How do we get there, dummy?" Aurora asked with a harsh tone, pointing to the life raft, asking, "In that? The fucking ferry couldn't take the waves. How's that blow up doll of a boat gonna get us there?"

"First things first," Claire cut in, tossing a plastic garbage bag filled with bedding down to Aurora, who wasn't ready for it and fell back into the pebbles beach on her ass when she caught it. There was laughter all around, and Claire said, "First, we get this boat unloaded. Second, we worry about where we're gonna end up."

Robert built a fire, and soon they were eating an amazing meal cooked over or in the flames. Claire -- and her sister, of course -- hadn't been on the sex slave holding island for a month before Robert got them away from it, but even in that time she'd come to realize that their captors were all Neanderthals or heathens. The island had had a very skilled cook -- chef even -- who had made wonderful meals for the captives, mostly from scratch.

As Robert had been preparing his needs for searing some steaks and baking some potatoes, Tamara -- who herself had been been a chef-in-training and for years had been a home gardener -- set about chopping up fresh vegetables for salad and a stew.

"What're you doing with those?" Aurora asked when she saw the cook saving the ends of the green onions, celery, and other fresh vegetables.

"We can grow these," Tamara responded. When she saw the others looking at her with curiosity, she explained, "Almost any vegetable you buy in the store that has roots on it can be put in water, then in soil to grow into a harvestable plant."

The response was mixed because some of them had never heard of such a thing before and those who had heard of it hadn't considered that they might be needing fresh vegies in the future. Betsy asked with a tone of innocent despair, "Are we gonna be here so long that we're thinking about planting a garden?"

Claire looked to Robert for his response but couldn't get a read on him. She looked between the other three women as she said, "Someone is probably going to find us tomorrow. My father is probably already in Japan, and when he discovers that we're not gonna show up, he's gonna hire a dozen boats and a dozen seaplanes and a dozen helicopters, and he's gonna find us before we ever have to consider eating out of Tamara's little vegie patch."

She drew a deep breath, exhaled, then said in a more serious tone, "But ... there's always the possibility that we may be here a while. We don't know where we are. We could be on an island that attracts snorkelers and divers and seabird watchers by the dozens, which means we'll all be back home in America in two days time--"

"Canada," Tamara interrupted playfully, reminding Claire that only three of the women were from the United States.

"Yeah, yeah, we all know you're a Canuck," Claire laughed. "Point is, we're likely to be found very soon, but ... what if we're somewhere off the beaten path? What if this rock is a bird sanctuary, protected by Japanese or even International Law? No one's coming here."

She remembered Robert's description of what he'd seen on the nearby and much bigger island and continued, "What if that other island is restricted from visitation? I mean, what were they doing there that there are dozens of buildings for hundreds or thousands of residents? If it dates back to the war ... World War II, I mean ... it could have been a Japanese forced labor camp, where they had Korean and Chinese and Filipino POWs making things for the war effort."

"I saw a thing once on History Channel or something," Aurora cut in, "about an island like that. They were using slave labor not to build things but to mine ... what was it, fuck ... coal I think? I'd never heard of digging coal in the ocean, and I don't remember how they did it--"

"So that island might be left over from World War II," Claire returned to explaining what she was thinking. "It could be a historic location now, with tour boats every day, which means if we get there, we could be rescued and in Nagasaki for dinner tomorrow."

"Or...?" Betsy asked. She knew her sister's either/or tone when she heard it.

Again, Claire took in and exhaled a deep breath, saying, "Or ... it could be polluted with hazardous waste ... from War time shit they were doing there or even more recently ... something that might make the Japanese restrict access to it ... which means that not only will we not get rescued by going there ... we might all die."

"Claire!" Betsy chastised, adding, "Why not just scare the fuck out of everyone?"

"I'm just saying ... we don't know right now, and remember how this conversation began," Claire said, looking to Tamara and then nodding her head toward the container full of vegetable ends with roots. "I'm just saying, it won't hurt any for us to plan for the future ... just in case rescue is not in the cards for the near future."

The others jumped into a conversation that was more confused than helpful before Claire interrupted and looked to the group's male member, asking, "What do you say, Robert? Should we stay here for a while ... are we safe here? Or, do we use the raft to go at least look at the other island? Who knows, it might be perfectly safe ... maybe even relatively comfortable. Or ... it might have big warning signs all around the, what do you call it ... perimeter? Signs saying, Come up here and you die a gruesome death from nuclear radiation or chemical poisoning."

They discussed it some more, with as many opinions as there were people expressing them, but eventually it was decided that Robert and Claire would row across to the other island as soon as the seas calmed down. Once that was settled, they positioned the raft to serve as sleeping quarters, protected the food and most of the other pillage as best they could with tarps and boards, and laid down to sleep.

Robert tried to create a shelter with some of the woods and a tarp, but a wind and a hard, cold rain came up and Claire insisted he come inside the raft. As he approached the opening, she demanded, "Take those wet clothes off. You're not coming in here wet and getting our blankets wet."

Some of the other girls laughed, with a couple of them even making lewd comments. Claire thought it was funny banter to be coming from women who'd very nearly been sold off into sexual servitude. But although Robert had been employed by their captors, most of them -- including Claire -- didn't feel about Robert as they did those who'd actually taken them hostage.

Robert stripped down to his boxers and wrapped himself with a blanket Claire offered. Inside the raft and under the cover that was flapping in the breeze, he slipped into the bed the girls had created out of a half dozen blankets with tarps below and above to keep themselves dry.

"You can lay on the outside, next to me," Claire said softly. As he moved to where she indicated, she said even softer, "Don't think this is some sort of invitation or anything."

After the lewd comments of earlier, Claire was rather surprised that more weren't made as Robert moved under the blankets near her. Betsy and Aurora knew Claire had performed sexual favors for both George and Robert to get them away from their captors, and the way Aurora gabbed at times, Claire was sure that by now Tamara had been told the stories as well.

They all got comfy -- or as comfy as they could get in a rubber bedroom on a pebble and tarp mattress -- and after some chit chat about a number of items, Claire said softly, "Get some sleep, everyone. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."



Sometime shortly before sunrise, Claire awoke to find herself being spooned by a soundly sleeping Robert, which she herself spooned her younger sister. A smile spread across her face as she felt the man's morning wood pressed against one butt cheek and the small of her back. Robert's arm was over her torso as his hand lay conspicuously around the breast on that side, too.

Gently, trying not to wake anyone, Claire moved Robert's arm away and began slipping up out of the blankets. Tamara awoke and looked up at her. The group's chef was laying against Aurora, with the latter girl's arm around her. Aurora hadn't had a bra when they left the island and she'd shed her tee shirt before doing to bed. Tamara got an eyeful of bared tits as she herself rose carefully, and looking to Claire with a humorous expression she stuck her tongue out and pretended to be flicking the other young woman's pert nipple.

Claire had to cover her mouth to stifle a chuckle, warning Tamara off with a shaken finger from the other hand. The two of them managed to get out of the bed and then out of the raft without awaking the others. Claire could see that the fire -- over which they had constructed a sort of lean-to -- was still hot, despite the rain and wind.

"Let's get some breakfast on," Claire said.

"I'll cook," Tamara agreed. "You get some wood."

They pair of them had a full breakfast nearly cooked by the time the others all woke and came out within minutes of each other. Tamara handed out plates of bacon, eggs, and potato patties, and milk, juice, and even coffee was available.

"Continental breakfast," Aurora noted as she looked at the incredible meal. Looking off to the Angela James -- still sitting right where it had been when they'd all gone to sleep -- she added without much specificity of what she meant, "Who would have known..."



They ate breakfast and returned to pillaging the boat for a couple of hours. They talked off and on about their situation and about the other island. Occasionally, one of them would think he or she saw a boat on the sea or a plane in the air, but each time it was just their hopeful imaginations.

Finally, Robert and Claire agreed that the sea was settled enough to pay the other island a visit. They retracted the roof to make paddling possible, drug the boat to the shore, and walked it out through the surf, with the other three women pushing it out to sea after Robert and Claire were aboard. It wasn't the easiest thing in the world, getting the raft past the breaking surf and into the rolling swells. And once they were out there -- remembering her comment about hating Titanic -- Claire said, "Now, I liked Castaway, though."

It seemed to be taking forever for them to get anywhere. Claire had never paddled a rubber raft before and had no idea just how slowly they moved, particularly when they were working against a current. They had to go east away from the rocky island, less they end up destroyed like the ferry was. Finally, they headed south for another forever, then finally east for -- yes -- yet another forever.

She was exhausted before they'd even passed the sound end of their little rock in the ocean, but the size of the raft meant it took two to row it. She'd always been in good shape, what with her exercise routine, her participation in marathons, and her love of dancing in clubs nearly every weekend. But this was a kind of workout Claire simply couldn't maintain long enough to get to the other island without rest, and finally she laid back in the rubber craft and told Robert, "Time for my legally mandated 15 minute work break."

He took some time, too, and they ate and drank water while just bobbing in the ocean. They weren't in much of a current here, as opposed to up next to their current home, but it was hard to tell whether or not they were being pushed toward their destination, away from it, or elsewhere until after they'd already decided it was time to get back to rowing.

Claire looked back toward where she knew her sister and the other two girls would be. She and Robert had left the binoculars behind but had taken the rifle with the scope. She picked it up to look back to the smaller island and, sure enough, found the three females standing in the gap from which Robert had spied the bigger island the day before.

Turning the rifle toward their destination, Claire surveyed the bit of land her male partner had reviewed the day before. After a while, she pointed out, "I don't see any warning signs. I see lots of birds, so ... maybe it is a sanctuary. I don't see any warning signs about that, though, either."

She set the rifle down and -- asking Robert to turn the oval shaped boat 180 degrees so she could use a new set of muscles -- went back to rowing again. They'd be to the island sooner or later, though, it was beginning to look and feel like later was to what they could looking forward.
 
"Ummm..." was all that came out of Robert's mouth when Claire told him to undress before coming into the raft to get out of the rain. The other three women made all manner of wise cracks, one whistling while another blew kisses at him. He felt a bit awkward, obviously, but he did as Claire said. Robert knew he was going to have to strip anyway; he'd gotten soaked to the bone as he'd tried to repair his makeshift shelter after it had collapsed in the rain.

"You can lay on the outside, next to me," Claire told him, adding, "Don't think this is some sort of invitation or anything."

"Of course not," he responded quickly, wanting her to know that he hadn't already nor would he consider something intimate with her. Sure, his cock had been inside her mouth, emptying his balls. But that wasn't this and this wasn't that. As he slipped into the covers, laying atop the one that Clair was under so as to keep their bodies separated, he whispered very softly, "I want to talk to you about that at some point. I think we need to be clear about, you know."

Claire didn't respond, and Robert didn't urge her to do so. It was a very personal thing, he felt, even if the others already knew all about it.



Breakfast was unexpected but entirely welcomed, and once again Robert applauded Tamara's capabilities in the kitchen, particularly since she didn't have one. They continued with emptying the boat until Robert took note of the gentler seas. He went to Claire, telling her, "If we want to get there and back before nightfall, we have to leave now. In fact, we may have to stay, so we should take some things with us.

They packed food, bottled water, a first aid kit, bedding, and more into a large, watertight bag, tossed it into the raft, and worked their asses off to get out into the water. Robert had told the three staying behind not to inflate the second raft unless they had to. "If it's not raining, sleep under the stars. Think of it as a camping trip."

They worked together pretty well rowing the boat, yet getting anywhere was tough. The raft came with a rudder that could be manned or could simply be locked in place to help with keeping the boat on a course. They chose the latter, obviously, as they both had to be on the paddles.

"Time for my legally mandated 15 minute work break," Claire said as they were just passing the end of their island.

Robert dropped down into the boat, too, joining Claire in eating and rehydrating. As she looked back to the island through the rifle scope, he asked, "Are they watching us?"

She said yes, and after a bit Robert ventured into that topic about which he'd spoken the night before. "I want you to know that I don't expect anything more from you. You know. Sex. That's over and done with. I mean, I enjoyed it immensely, but, you were doing what you thought you needed to do. And I took advantage of that. And I just wanted you to know that..."

He let the thought die as he studied Claire's expression, knowing he'd said enough already. A whale breached the surface not twenty feet from them, blasting water into the air before submerging again. It wasn't seen again, which Robert thought was strange. The incredible natural event distracted them both from the topic at hand, and they returned to rowing a minute later.

"I don't see any warning signs," Claire told Robert when she spun the rifle and its optics around the other direction.

They returned to rowing, and the island almost imperceptibly grew larger before them as the many minutes passed. Robert pointed his oar at one point, saying, "That's where the dock used to be, I think. I think we can use the rope to catch hold of something and get up there."

They rowed for another good half hour before they finally reached the missing dock's former position. Robert was correct about the rope; there were pieces of vertically standing rebar in huge concrete debris chunks, and he roped one easily from his knees in the raft.

"So, if I get up there, and a Godzilla like monster or maybe Zombies come after me," he said with a smile as he checked the rifle before handing it to Claire, "you're comfortable enough with this thing to save my ass, right?"

He shoved the little 5 shot .38 Special revolved in his back pocket, grabbed the rope tightly, and pulled his way out of the raft and up the side of the island's sea wall. He, like Claire, was athletic, so in no time at all he was peeking over the wall's top edge for signs of life.

"Holy shit," he murmured at what he saw. He looked down to Claire with a shocked expression. Then, turning back, he finished the climb, stood on top of the concrete, and called down, "Claire, come up. You have to see this."

Robert had Claire tie a second, smaller rope to the rifle and, after she's tossed the other end to him, he pulled it up, trying not to bang its scope against the concrete.
Claire actually ascended the first rope more easily and quickly than Robert had, causing him to call her a show off.

When she got to the top and her pulled her the last bit to her feet, Robert watched her expression as she looked out upon the island. Although the buildings and other structures were decades old and, in many cases, destroyed or demolished, there were safety rails and new paths and steel walkways connecting them to the island and leading off in all directions.

"This is no abandoned island," Robert said, clearing up at least part of the mystery about the little land mass. "This is what you'd see at a park, like the Grand Canyon or Yellowstone. This is a National Park or Monument or something. Only, where are the people? The visitors. How come no one's here?"
 
"I want you to know that I don't expect anything more from you," Robert told Claire when they both slouched back for a badly needed rest. "You know. Sex."

She listened and appreciated what he said but didn't respond. He was true in that she'd only sucked his cock to tempt him into the plot to help her and Betsy escape. And yet, Claire couldn't help but think that under other circumstances, she might have liked to be his lover. Robert was good looking, fit, personable, confident, intelligent ... good looking, fit...

If only there wasn't that whole working for the slavers who took her and Betsy prisoner for sale into sexual servitude thing.

"So, if I get up there..." Robert began, speaking of possibly finding danger atop the concrete wall.

Claire let him ramble on about monster and zombies, then pulled back and slammed back into place the .30-06's bolt to ensure the weapon was loaded and ready for use. She smiled and informed him with humor, "I'm plenty capable of using this. But how do you know I'll shoot Godzilla and not you?"

She watched Robert climb to the top of the wall, and waited. When he told her she needed to come up to see what he was seeing, she passed the rifle up to him and followed ... and she was just as confused about what she saw as he had been.

"This is no abandoned island," Robert said, speaking about how it had to be some sort of park or monument. "How come no one's here?"

"Is it a national holiday?" Claire asked. "Businesses back home close for those. Do the parks?"

She rarely visited such places as clubs and restaurants were her playgrounds. With Robert holding the rifle now, she pulled the pistol off his hip, smiled to him, and said, "Let's take a look."

Without waiting for him to offer his opinion of investigating, Claire took off and left Robert standing there. The place was an amazing contradiction, with old buildings that had been collapsed by nature or demolished by man, yet made accessible with metal walkways and concrete paths that couldn't have been more than 20 years old.

She took a left at the end of the steel bridge, continued onward, and found herself passing through a doorway that was part of the old construction. (link). It led up to a large concrete landing that Claire was sure had been built for tour groups, perhaps for presentations by Guides.

"What the fuck was this place?" she murmured after Robert caught up to her. She looked all around her, speaking about what he was seeing, "There's old concrete walls and old block walls ... new concrete ... rails. Fuck, there's a patio cover, like they use for weddings or other outdoor events."

She continued onward along the relatively new concrete path until she came to a notice sign written all in Japanese. (link) Don't suppose you can read this, can you? One thing we know, this place wasn't ... what's the word, renovated? No, that's not right. Anyway, it wasn't done for foreigners, it was done for the Japanese."

Again, Claire took off down the path. She found another of what she concluded was a viewing area with another sign all in Japanese. "Is it the same sign, a warning about staying on the path? Or is it a description of what we're looking at?" (link)

They found more informative signs and determined that they were indeed different from one another, and found more viewing areas with concrete blocks for erecting canopy frames, though there were no frames or canopies installed. The pathway ended here, but that didn't stop Claire as she stuck the pistol in the back pocket of her jeans and climbed over the railing.

"C'mon, let's look inside the buildings," she said casually. Looking back to Robert, she laughed at his hesitation. "C'mon, you big scaredy cat. The worse that can happen is we wander into a toxic waste dump and get eaten by zombies. Or, do you prefer Godzilla?"

The walk was difficult as nearly the entire surface of the formerly developed area was covered in rubble. After a bit, though, Claire found a cleared path. She didn't find that unusual, as the crews who'd built the improvements likely would have cleared one to make moving about easier and safer.

"Look at this," she said softly to Robert when she got near to one of the buildings. When Robert caught up, she pointed to a sandy area next to the cleared path. With confidence, she said, "That's a footprint ... a recent footprint. Rain and wind would have smoothed it out ... right?"

Claire took the pistol out again and moved onward, though, this time she did so much slower. When they reached the first building, she realized that she was lightly trembling. It could have been from the cold, but for whatever reasons, she feared it wasn't.

She stopped to look at some of the damage of one of the buildings, and when she turned to continue onward ... Claire practically cried out in shock as she found herself staring right into the eyes of a stranger. The woman looked around 30 but later Claire would learn that she was only 23, suffering from poor nutrition and exposure to the elements. She wore a tattered pair of shorts and nothing else; she was far too thin to be healthy yet still had a fairly nice and firm set of B-cup tits. She was dark in color from the sun and genetics as Claire thought she looked Japanese, which made sense.

"Hello," Claire said simply. She waited a moment, asking, "Do you understand English? I'm sorry, I don't speak Japanese."

Suddenly the woman's eyes glazed over in tears ... and a moment later she was sobbing as she moved forward to wrap her arms around Claire's waist, hugging as tightly as her exhausted arms could.
 
"Let's take a look."

Robert stood in place as Claire took off up the bridge, calling out after a moment of uncertainty, "Wait. Wait, Claire! We don't know what--"

He went silent, not sure what he had been intending to say. He was simply baffled by what he was seeing. Claire didn't seem to be concerned at all, and every time Robert caught up with her, she just took off again. When they reached the first sign, he told her he didn't speak any Japanese. But when they arrived at the second sign, he noticed significant differences between it and the first.

"These are informational, for tourists," he said. "I don't have any fucking idea what this place is, but people did or still do come here to look at it, whatever it is."

Robert became even more concerned when Claire leaped over the railing and walked out into the rubble. For all they knew, this place was the Japanese version of a Superfund Toxic Waste Site, and the only safe place for occupancy of it was on the paths. But he chased after her, catching up when she stopped to look at a human footprint in the sand. She was right that it had to be recent, only how recent was the question: one day, one week, one month?

He studied it a moment, then hurried to catch up again just in time to hear Claire let out a small cry of surprise. A moment later, Robert caught sight of the topless woman. He had the rifle in his hands and had been ready to raise and use it if danger presented itself. But somehow, this didn't seem to fit the description, and Robert simply stared as was Claire.

"Hello," Claire said to the woman. "Do you understand English? I'm sorry, I don't speak Japanese."

And then the woman's arms were wrapped around Claire's torso. Robert had become alarmed for a moment, until he realized what was happening. He just watched in silence as the woman sobbed into Claire's body, holding her tightly as is a scared child fearful their parent was leaving them.

Then, movement drew Robert's attention. A man, perhaps 25 to 35, looking similarly gaunt, barefoot and dressed in shorts and an almost-not-there tee shirt, stepped out of the the shadows. He had an unkempt beard that reach nearly to the bottom of his rib cage, and his eyes looked like those of the most desperate of men.

"Are you here to rescue us?" he asked, apparently having heard Claire's question in English and presumed he should make his inquiry as such. He glanced to the rifle in Robert's hand and said, almost with a hopeful tone, "Or are you hear to kill us."

Robert didn't know how to answer the man. He and the four women were marooned themselves; they were castaways. He asked, "How long have you been on this island?"

The man considered his answer. "A year. Maybe more."

Robert felt his stomach roll over in despair. "No one has visited this island in over a year?"

The man gently shook his head, then asked, "Do you have food?"

"Yes, yes we do," Robert said without hesitation. He looked to Claire for a sign regarding her feelings about sharing their food and knew that she was already agreeable to it. He looked back to the man, saying as he looked back toward the path that had brought them to the side of the island opposite their raft, "I have to go back to our boat. Give me a couple of--"

The man was raising his hand and pointing through the building. He only said, "This way."

Robert stepped up closer to Claire, asking quietly, "You'll be okay?"
 
Claire could feel the woman trembling against her as she sobbed and mumbled incoherently in Japanese. She wrapped her arms around the woman but only held her lightly as she felt so small and fragile. Suddenly, there was a second person, a man, who looked as vulnerable as the woman. He appeared to be Japanese as well, but he spoke to Robert in English.

"Are you here to rescue us?" he asked, "Or are you hear to kill us."

"We're not here to kill you," Claire said immediately, glancing to Robert, then the rifle, before giving him an expression meant to get him to lower it, which he did. "We're not going to hurt you, I promise."

Robert asked, "How long have you been on this island?"

"A year. Maybe more."

"Oh my god," Claire murmured to herself, again looking to Robert for his reaction.

He asked, "No one has visited this island in over a year?"

How could that be? How could that fucking possibly be? Where the hell were they that not a single boat had ventured close enough to this island to be seen and signaled from this couple.

"Do you have food?" the man asked.

"Yes, yes we do," Robert said without hesitation. He looked to Claire.

"Yes, absolutely," she said to him softly. She pulled away from the woman gently, shed her lightweight jacket, and wrapped it over the still-sobbing thing's shoulders. "We're going to help you, I promise."

The man gestured a direction for Robert to more quickly return to the boat, and Robert asked Claire, "You'll be okay?"

"Of course, go, I'm good here," she told him as she helped the woman get her weak arms into the jacket, then began zipping it up. Getting a better look into the woman's eyes and at her body, Claire more closely guessed the woman's age to be in the mid-20s. Although it was hard to determine the man's actual age what with the beard and exposure to nature, she correctly guessed him to be near 30. She told Robert, "Go, get food, water. Get it all actually. Do you need help? Wait, no. I want to stay here."

Robert moved off through the rubble, trying to hurry but being careful as well. Claire asked the couple, "Where do you live? I mean, where do you sleep? Where are your things?"

The woman tried to smile, as if happy to offer something to the newcomer. She took Claire's hand, turned, and led her through what appeared to be a less cluttered, cleared path and into one of the nearer crumbling buildings. They entered a room through a collapsed exterior wall, left that room to enter a hallway, and headed down it. Along the way, they passed a heap of shells, mostly Muscles, that gave proof to the amount of time the couple had been living and dining on the island.

Claire flinched at movement in the dark and realized she was looking at a rat eating on the skeleton of a fish at the far side of the shell pile. She wasn't afraid of rats or anything, and had only reacted as she did because she hadn't known what was moving. Stopping to take a moment to study the rat and pile, Claire realized that one of the other skeletons on the pile had been a rat, or at least part of one. She looked to the couple and wondered Did you eat it, or did its buddy?

As they continued onward, Claire wondered about the couple's diet more. They had access to seafood and -- ick! -- rodents, which while not the diet upon which Claire herself would have wanted to survive, was at least nutritious and sustaining. And yet they were on the verge of starvation. The reason was obvious: it was one thing to have food, but it was another thing to have a balanced diet.

They arrived at what was and at the same time wasn't a door. Although it was blocking the entrance to a room, it would become obvious soon enough that it had been the top of a table repurposed to become a barrier to the room. Later, when she had more time to think about it, Claire would realize that much of what she would have expected to see in apartment buildings or offices was no longer here: doors, desks, chairs, bulletin boards, lamps, and so much more. Had it been salvaged? Pillaged? Perhaps this couple had burned it all for heat and cooking?

The woman pushed open the door, which was held in place not by hinges but by old, fraying rope that had been threaded through hand cut holes in the wood and looped around exposed Rebar near the door frame. Inside was the couple's home. Claire walked slowly inside and looked around, amazed. As she studied the contents of the 20 by 20 foot room, she would begin to realize that she was looking at one possible future for herself and her four companions. They had used anything and everything upon which they could get their hands to create a bed, a couple of tables with mismatched chairs, shelves -- some empty, some filled -- a cooking stove, a heating fire, an array of differently sized and shaped containers -- most of which were now empty or filled with things that were likely of no use anymore -- and other features of what amounted to their home.

"My name is Claire," the more recent castaway finally introduced herself. "What ar your names?"

The woman gestured for Claire to sit in one of the metal chairs that, by now, was rusted red and missing its padded seat and back. She spoke in Japanese, after which the man translated while giving a slight respectful bow, "She is Akari. I am Kazuki. She is my sister. I am her brother."

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Claire replied, repeating the bow from her sitting position. She watched Akari moving about as she asked, "How did you come to be here? You said you've been here a year and no one's come to the island?"

Akari returned to the table, holding out a charred piece of something or other. Kazuki explained, "It is Muscle. It is very good."

Claire had never eaten the shellfish but she'd known people who had. It was charred and tough, like jerky. She would learn later that by cooking it slowly over smoke, they dried and preserved it, making it safely edible for weeks to come, so long as they kept it dry, a tough task on an island in the ocean.

"It's good," she said with a sincere tone. It had a strong, seafood flavor, of course, not something Claire had always favored. She smiled to an also smiling Akari, nodded her head in what she thought was a sign of respect, and said, "Thank you."

"We were on a fishing boat," Kazuki began answering Claire's question. "My sister, my two brothers, and my father. We were attacked by pirates who--"

"Pirates?" Claire cut in, shocked. "Like ... aarrgh ... pirates?"

"They took our catch and most of our electronics, equipment, and tools," Kazuki continued. He glanced at Akari a moment, then -- knowing she spoke no English -- went on with a solemn tone, "They attacked my sister. And they killed my eldest brother when he fought back."

He spoke to Akari in Japanese, and -- with an expression that match her brother's tone -- stood and crossed the room to what Claire had thought was just a crate filled with blankets. Leaning over, Akari stood again and turned ... revealing her infant baby.

"Her name is Chieko," Kazuki said. "It means child of a thousand blessings. My sister wanted to kill herself when she realized that those men had gotten her pregnant. She did not, and her child, Chieko, was a blessing. She is our reason for living on."

Akari had been crossing the room, and she laid the blanket wrapped baby in Claire's arms. Claire found the baby beautiful and, relative to her mother and uncle, in seemingly good health. For sure, Akari and Kazuki had fed and cared for the child before they ever did themselves.

"And you still have your nice tits," Claire joked, looking up to the child's mother. Kazuki laughed, then translated to his sister. Akari giggled, blushed, and diverted her eyes. "You have a beautiful baby. You are indeed blessed."

Kazuki again translated, and Akari said in heavily accented English, "Thank you ... Claire."

"How did you end up here, though?" Claire again searched for an answer, looking back to the brother.

"The pirates tied us up and locked us in the hold, all except my father, who they kept topside to help," he told her, coming to sit on a box at the table. "We could hear them taking everything. We could hear them..."

He again glanced at his sister, who showed no sign of understanding what he was explaining her rape. Akari took her baby back and began breast feeding her as her brother continued, "Then, they were gone. We heard their boat motor away. By father did not come to free us. The pirates had killed him. Akari came for us eventually.

"They had damaged the engine and stolen our fuel," he went on. "We repaired the engine, but we did not have enough fuel to get back to our home port, and without the electronics, we could not navigate to any other port. But his island, it was on the horizon. We made it here. We were only going to stay a day, but a storm came. We tried to unload the boat during the night, fearful it would be damaged and sink. My younger brother was washed overboard and lost. The waves smashed the boat against the sea wall. It sank.

"We thought someone would find us," Kazuki said with a distraught tone, reaching out to caress his sister's cheek. "We became desperate when we learned Akari was going to have a child. I tried to make a raft, to get us away from here. But it was a silly, desperate idea."

Akari spoke to her brother for a moment, looking back to Claire. Kazuki explained, "We collected shell fish and fished off the rocks, and we collected sea bird eggs during hatching season. We stayed alive."

Kazuki smiled wider, saying with joy in his tired voice, "And then you came to save us."

"Well, I don't know about that, Kazuki," Claire said, trying out the man's name for the first time. "We are castaways, too. Do you know that word?"

Kazuki laughed, surprising Claire, who laughed in return. "Castaway ... Tom Hanks ... Wilson ... Willll-sonnn."

Claire laughed again, confirming, "Yes, Castaway. And we are castaways, too."

She explained about how their boat had been run aground, but didn't go into details regarding the circumstances of their flight out into the sea. With a hopeful tone, she told Kazuki, "But we have lots of food and bottled water and blankets..."

Claire looked to Akira, now with the jacket off her shoulders, exposing her bosom again. "And clothes. We have clothes that will fit both of you, keeping you warm and dry."

"Doumo arigatou gozaimasu," Kazuki said, thanking Claire. His sister repeated the sign of appreciation after her brother translated for her. "Whether you can get us home or not, we thank you for all you have done and will do. We owe you our lives."

Claire and Kazuki -- with additional contributions from Akira that had to be translated -- sat and talked for a while about themselves. Kazuki, it turned out, had gone to University to study aquaculture, something into which his family had been considering doing. He wasn't a regular member of the crew of the family's fishing boat, and the disastrous trip that had left him and his sister here had only been his ninth or tenth time out on it over the course of his life.

Akira, it turned out, was the fisher of the family's children. She'd grown up going out on the boat any time she wasn't in school. She spent more time out with her father than any of her siblings. Being careful not to indicate to his sister what he was saying, Kazuki made it clear to Claire that despite being in her mid-20s -- Claire would later learn the exact age was 24 -- Akira had been a virgin when the pirates had raped her.

About that time, they heard Robert call out. Claire went out to the hallway to call back and make her current location more obvious, and after the sound of feet shuffling through the rubble, Robert appeared with the big bag over his shoulder, bringing what looked like everything they'd brought with them.
 
(OOC: For anyone who might be reading along, be aware that while we use a real island as the basis of our story, complete with elements of his real history, our island is certainly not located a mere 2 miles from the Japanese island of Kyushu. And we alter the real history of that island to fit our story. So, don't bother researching the real Gunkanjima-Hashima if you think it will help you understand our story, because you will be wasting your time. This is fiction.)


Robert tried to concentrate on the rubble strewn pavement and open ground as he hurried back to the raft. His mind, though, was on the two people they'd discovered. It was both amazing and tragic. He knew that if these people had been here for a year without rescue, in all likelihood he and the four women would be as well.

After crossing the metal bridge and reaching the edge of the landing, Robert pulled the heavy rope up and knotted it every foot and half or so. It would be much easier to climb that way. He'd chastised himself when they'd first arrived for not having done so before they left their little sliver of a rock island.

Once it was ready, he shimmied down the rope, loaded the bag with anything that wasn't already in it, and shimmied back up again. It was heavy and awkward but nothing he hadn't done in Army boot camp years earlier. To be honest, Robert actually thought he was in better shape today than he was back then.

When he got back to where he'd left Claire, there was no one there, of course. He called out, and a moment later she called back. He followed her back to the Japanese couples' apartment, showing the same surprise in his face as Claire had in her own earlier. Claire introduced him properly to Akira and Kazuki, then urged him over to the makeshift crib where Chieko was again laying down, sleeping after having her belly filled.

"I brought it all," Robert to Claire, dropping the bag and beginning to empty it item by item. They took inventory of what they had and what the Japanese siblings needed immediately. There had been several cases of Ensure nutritional supplement on the ferry for unknown reasons, and Claire opened one for each of their new friends. "I saw in a movie once that you aren't supposed to eat too much too fast after not having eaten well for a long period of time, or after not having at least had a proper diet for a long time. Band of Brothers. It was a, well, anyway."

After whispering to Claire about whether it was okay to mention the others and getting a positive response, Robert said, "I signaled to them that we're staying here for the night."

The night before while they sat at the fire, Robert had explained to all four of his female companions how to send signals with Morse Code. He'd gone onto the wreckage of the Agatha James and found two copies of the Code, and they'd practiced by flashing the fire light off mirrors, also taken from the ferry. One woman had spoken dit, dash for short and long flashes of light, while another girl wrote down dots and dashes, then they worked together to work out the code.

"Hopefully we won't be out here long enough for you to get good at Morse Code," Robert had told them all, "but it's better to be safe than sorry."

They got out their fresh changes of clothing and gave them to Akira and Kazuki, as well as a travel sized liquid soap bottle that Claire hadn't realized she'd packed. Robert asked Claire softly, "What else can we do for them?"

He got his answer, then asked Kazuki, "Do you know what this place was? And why are there paths and viewing areas but no people? I couldn't read the signs, obviously."

The Japanese man explained that the island had had two names over its history, Gunkanjima and Hashima. It had been a coal mining island on which Korean and Chinese internees and POWs had been forced to mine and process coal, as well as load it onto barges and boats that took the ore to various locations to the north on the larger Japanese islands.

"After it closed, years later, it was declared an important historical site and made ready for visitors," Kazuki explained. "The Japanese Government did its best to be respectful to the history of those who worked here and to those who died here.
But many had died here while slaves, and many -- Chinese, Koreans, even Japanese -- felt that it would be better to simply closed this place forever. Let the dead lay in peace."

"What did they do with the dead?" Robert asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Kazuki pointed to the fire that was only now beginning to get larger, to warm the room and cook some food. Robert got the hint. He wondered if while he was hurrying to and from the boat he'd been walking over the spread ashes of the dead from 80 years ago.

"The Government shut down the tours," Kazuki continued, "and forbid travel to the island under any circumstances. For a decade or so, boats and planes would come here or fly over to ensure that people were obeying the restrictions. No more. Unfortunately."
 
"I brought it all," Robert told Claire about the bag and its contents. Regarding the women they'd left behind, including her sister, Robert told Claire, "I signaled to them that we're staying here for the night."

"They'll be okay," she said, not entirely certain about whether she believed herself. Her sister was so young and innocent, a woman by definition and yet still a girl in so many ways. Betsy was still a virgin, having been saving herself for the young man she'd been seeing since almost a year ago. She said, mostly to herself, "They'll be fine."

Claire found the change of clothes she'd brought in case they got wet from the ocean or rain and showed them to Akira. Looking to Kazuki, she asked, "I can help your sister bathe and change. Would she like that?"

Kazuki spoke to Akira, who studied the other woman for a moment before speaking to her brother. He told Claire, "She would be honored."

Before they set about doing that, though, Kazuki began explaining the history of this island. It was a tragic story that very nearly brought tears to her eyes, as had the news of what had happened to Akira and her family. When the man ceased speaking, Claire asked Robert to build a larger fire, then offered a hand to the other woman as she asked Kazuki, "Is there clean water anywhere? Or a place with some privacy for bathing?"

Kazuki nodded positively, then led the two women -- with Akira bringing her daughter -- out of this room, down the partially destroyed hallway, and into what had once been a restroom, though, at this point all of the original features -- sinks, toilets, counters, mirrors -- had been removed. Those items had been replaced, though, with a counter, sink, and toilet fashioned from other items. Kazuki pointed upwards toward a mostly intact ceiling, saying, "There is a tank up there that fills from the roof when it rains. We boil it before drinking, but it is clean enough for bathing."

He gestured to a relatively clean spot in the corner where two buckets rested empty, next to a metal pot that was placed over a long cold fire. When they'd first arrived at the island, Kazuki had used some tanks, buckets, pipes, and more to create a makeshift sponge bath area for them.

Claire looked into the pot, finding it half filled with water and covered with lightweight debris that had blown into the water over time. It had been days, maybe weeks, since either of the siblings had used it, as was confirmed by their appearance. The male resident of the island built a fire under the pot that included some finely shredded wood. He struck two pieces of metal across one another half a dozen times, and a moment later smoke was rising from the fire.

"That's amazing," Claire said. "I've always wanted to know how to do that."

"I cannot fully express my appreciation for what you are doing for us," Kazuki told Claire as he gave her a formal bow. Rising again, he spoke to Akira, who bowed as well. "I will leave you ladies."

The fire was already beginning to rapidly grow, burning kindling and larger pieces of wood that had obviously been once been part of the wooden construction of one of the buildings. Claire and Akira couldn't talk to one another, obviously, which led to an interesting exchange while they were waiting for the water to warm up. Akira began pointing to things and speaking their names in Japanese. Claire caught on quickly, giving the English word for the indicated items. Claire listened to a few dozen words, then returned to those items not just once but twice, in an effort to retain them.

When she thought she had them down, she ran through them all on her own, finding herself corrected only a couple of times. As quickly as she learned the Japanese words for such things as floor, ceiling, wall, fire, tub, woman, baby, and more, Akira learned twice as much twice as fast. Claire had a good feeling that the two of them would eventually communicating in English as opposed to Japanese.

With the water warm enough to stand, Akira stripped out of her clothing as Claire filled the buckets with water. She hadn't added additional water to the tub, which meant that they had only about 15 gallons but it had warmed faster. They set about cleaning the Japanese woman's body with a heavily wetted towel. The water coming off Akira was visibly dirty, particularly when Claire put some of the liquid soap in her hair and scrubbed it in.

As the filth was washed away, Claire began to truly realize just how beautiful and sexy the younger woman was. Akira was barely over 5 feet tall and obviously less than 100 pounds in weight. And while she was visibly underweight, she still had a shapely, petite frame. Claire felt a chill run up her spine as her brain was filled with two conflicting thoughts: the first was that any man who saw Akira naked would be immediately filled with lustful thoughts, while the second thought was that an unknown number of men had already fulfilled their lustful thoughts by raping the young beauty.

They finished bathing Akira, dried and dressed her, and Claire set about brushing out her hair. It was long, almost to her buttocks, thinning out from breakage at the ends. Gesturing with scissoring fingers near the split ends, Claire said, "I will cut it for you. Make it pretty. Prettier, I mean."

It appeared as thought Akira understood, nodding her head and again using two of the words she knew already, "Yes, thank you."

They finally made their way back to Akira and Kazuki's home, finding the room noticeably warmer from the larger fire. There were six empty food cans sitting on the table now as their contents cooked over the fire in a metal platter that had the look of some sort of industrial equipment cover.

Claire looked to the two men with a pleased smile as Akira entered the room, asking, "How does she look?"
 
When Kazuki returned, he briefly described the bathing situation for Robert. The two of them sat near the fire and talked more about what the Japanese man knew about the island. They spoke of the history, about the buildings, about other physical features, about the sea surrounding it, and even about the weather the two siblings had dealt with over the course of their year here.

Hearing of the serious storms that struck the area on occasion, Robert only became more certain that they had to get the other women and all their supplies to this island. He talked about that with Kazuki, who offered some suggestions about how they could create sails that would help move the boats almost effortlessly. They spoke of wind direction and speed, as well as of the current between the islands. The conclusion was that they might be able to travel back and forth between the islands as many as three or possibly even four times a day.

Robert had already told Kazuki about Betsy, Tamara, and Aurora. Now he explained, "One of the girls thinks she could grow food. Vegetables. Something about the roots being put in water or soil or something. I think I remember my mom doing that with a potato when I was a kid. Or an avocado pit, or both?"

They talked about the island's soil, which depressed Robert a bit. It was sandy and salty because of the sea surrounding the island, of course. But there was also the possibility of toxins in the soil, a remnant of the island's history as a coal mining and processing site.

"We use the ocean dirt," Kazuki said. Robert looked at him with confusion. "Sand from the sea floor, mixed with seabird poop. Poop, yes?"

Robert laughed. "Yes, poop."

"We can dry seaweed, add it to the mix," Kazuki continued. He talked about creating soil, something that was obviously entertaining Robert, who would never thought of such a thing. "It can be done."

Robert looked past the man at movement, then stood. And smiled. Claire gestured Akira into the room, asking the men, "How does she look?"

"Wow," Robert said as he looked the woman up and down. The clothes she was wearing, Claire's, were too big for her, obviously. But she wore no bra, and the shape of her pert nipples showed conspicuously through the tee shirt. With a smile, he said, "Akira, you are a beautiful woman."

Kazuki laughed, then translated. Akira blushed and looked to the gown, mumbling. Kazuki told Robert, "She thanks you but says you are wrong."

Robert told the man he was wrong, then looked him up and down and asked, "Your turn?"

Kazuki reached up to his scraggly beard, then to the rough skin of his face. "I could shave."

"I'll leave making dinner to you, Claire?" Robert asked, getting a positive response. He fished a pair of scissors out of the first aid kit they'd brought with them and flashed the knife on his hip. "I just sharpened it a couple of days. It's not razor sharp, but it's close."

The two men headed for the bathroom. Kazuki was more than happy to let Robert clip his beard and hair. When it came to shaving with the knife, though, Robert thought it would be better for Kazuki to do it himself. Robert cleaned the knife, ran an alcohol pad from the first aid kit over it, and held the signal mirror as Kazuki began to shave. But his hands were so unsteady, they agreed it might be better to wait.

Robert offered to give the other man his privacy while he bathed. But Kazuki asked him to help because of still being weak from his months of poor nutrition. It was awkward to Robert. When he was in the Army or at public gyms, he'd always felt self conscious while in the company of other men in the showers or locker rooms. So, the idea of physically helping another man bathe himself was a new experience.

But, with Kazuki cleaning his own junk, they got through it just fine. Robert noted that the man was free of any physical concerns such as ticks, lice, infections, rashes, or anything like that. That was a big relief to Robert as he wouldn't have known what to do to give Kazuki relief for most of those ailments. And, of course, Kazuki was relieved as well.

They dressed him in Robert's change of clothes. When he stood back, Robert remarked, "Well, that's a contradiction. You're taller than me but skinnier. Maybe you'll put on some weight now that you have more and better food coming."

Again, Kazuki thanked Robert as he had Claire earlier. The two men returned to the room where the Japanese siblings lived. They received a similar response to that which Akira had received from Robert.

"That smells great," Robert said about the odor of food cooking over the fire. "I don't know about anyone else, but I'm starving."
 
While the two men were away in the bathroom, Akira showed Claire around a bit more. As they had for bathing -- which they'd nearly abandoned in these latest weeks -- Kazuki and his sister had used anything and everything they could to catch and store rain for drinking. The island had been stripped of most of its features after it had been abandoned as a mining operation, but the siblings had been been able to find some sheets of metal that were arranged as rain catchers, and these fed piping that ultimately drained into a pair of 50 gallon drums that had once been garbage cans for the tourists who came later.

"We cleaned them with hot water and sand," Kazuki would tell Claire later when she expressed a concern about them being dirty. "They are safe."

The two women set about cooking the canned and boxed food Robert had fetched from the raft, and when they were nearly done, the two men returned. Akira giggled with joy at the sight of her brother all cleaned up and went to him for a hug and a quick inspection. She noted the stubble of a beard left over after clipping without shaving and played her fingers over it; although the others didn't understand the words, she told her brother he looked good but shouldn't be kissing any girls until he shaved his face clean.

"That smells great," Robert said about the food cooking over the fire.

Claire instructed them all to sit, and she filled the plates Akira had made of other items she'd found in those early days of being castaways. They all ate, chatted, and even laughed a little. Claire asked Kazuki to tell more about their lives here on the island over the past year. She was amazed, even at the most common and obvious of topics. She'd seen a few island castaway movies in her life -- one actually named Castaway, of course -- but she'd never really thought about the day to day situations, tasks, and threats outside of those pieces of entertainment.

"We will bring all we have on the other island over here, Kazuki, and life will be better for you," Claire promised the man. "And you can teach us more about what it takes to survive as you have."

The man responded and also translated for his sister, who asked questions of her own that Kazuki translated to the other two. "Akira wants to know how you know each other ... Claire and Robert ... and the others ... Betsy is sister, yes? What about ... sorry, I forget names."

"Betsy is my sister, yes," Claire answered. "Tamara and Aurora are my friends."

She glanced to Robert, wondering just how to explain her relationship to him. She looked back to the Japanese siblings and said with a serious tone, "We four women were being held captive on an island that isn't too far from here. Robert ... he saved us from that island ... rescued us from our captivity. He is a hero to us ... a friend."

Claire looked to Robert for his reaction as Kazuki was translating what she had said. Akira spoke, and Kazuki said to Robert, "My sister says you are an honorable man, and she thanks you for what you have done for all of us ... for us--"

He gestured between himself and his sister, continuing, "...for Claire ... Betsy..."

He looked to Claire again, and she finished, "Tamara and Aurora."

"Tamara and Aurora," he said, his natural accent making the names sound so much more exotic than when Claire herself spoke them.

Claire was realizing that her eyes were getting heavy, and looking to the gaps between the makeshift window shutters and the concrete walls, she realized that the daylight that had been slipping through the cracks was now gone. She said, "I don't know about any of you, but I'm about ready to get some sleep."

Kazuki explained that in those first days after they had built them, the larger bed had been occupied by his sister and he had slept in the smaller one. Later, when they'd come to realize that Akira was pregnant and that they couldn't heat their home with the fire as they originally had because the lumber they were burning would run out too quickly, they'd begun sleeping next to one another in the big bed to share body heat.

Kazuki tried to convince Claire that she and Robert should take the bigger, more comfortable bed, but Claire immediately and firmly refused. "No, you and your sister and Chieko keep that bed. Robert and I will tough it out on the ground. Maybe we'll rock-paper-scissors for the smaller bed."

Kazuki translated for his sister, who spoke animatedly, trying to get the newcomers to take the bigger, more comfortable bed as her brother explained. But Claire insisted, and after Akira herself showed signs of being exhausted, they all decided to call it a night. Some more wood was added to the fire, the siblings slipped under one of the blankets from the Agatha James, as well as their old raggedy one, and -- after he'd showed himself to be a gentleman -- Claire curled up in another of the ferry's blankets on the little bed, which had been moved closer to the fire.

It didn't take long for the spent Claire to drift off to sleep. But only a couple of hours had passed before she awoke again, shivering. Sitting up, she found the siblings sleeping soundly, Kazuki on his back and his sister curled up facing him and her baby laying between them, hidden under the covers. They were so cute.

Looking to Robert, she found him laying on the big bag they'd emptied and which was now below him on the concrete. He was fully dressed, wrapped in the last of the blankets. He was shivering unconsciously. Claire shook her head, then reached a food out to nudge him. He awoke with a start, and Claire unwrapped herself from her own blanket.

"Come over here," she whispered as she stood. As she was laying her blanket out so that half would be under them and the other half could be pulled over, she told him, "This is silly for the both of us to be freezing out asses off when we could do like the smart ones over there are doing instead."

She'd nodded her head toward the siblings as she explained, and when Robert came to her, Claire laid out his blanket as she had her own, though, she left a little more for the top wrap. Laying down again, she gestured Robert to lay beside her, and once he had pulled the blankets over them, she cuddled up close against him, wrapping one arm around his torso as the other was bent across her bosom.

"I woke up this morning to find you groping my tit," she whispered after a minute or so of silence. She was about to tell him she'd like to wake up this upcoming morning without his hands all over her womanly features ... but then instead -- implying that maybe she hadn't minded it so much -- Claire said, "For the benefit of all of us ... you, me, my sister and the two girls, even for Kazuki and Akira ... it might be a good idea that we not get too close right now ... until ... you know ... we figure out just what the hell's gonna happen to us all."

And with that, Claire rolled to her side, reached around to urge Robert closer to her in a spoon position, took his upper arm and pulled it around her torso, and held it in her own hand in between her boobs, whispering, "This is for keeping warm ... nothing else."
 
"We will bring all we have on the other island over here, Kazuki," Claire told their hosts. "and life will be better for you. And you can teach us more about what it takes to survive as you have."

Robert nodded, reminding Kazuki and Akira of some of the resources they had. "We unloaded the boat of the priorities for survival. We can continue to take things off if for as long as it remains there on the rocks. Could be a day, could be a month or a year. I could tell that when we went up on the rocks we were at high tide, so, as long as we don't get another big storm like the one that stranded us, we could theoretically disassemble the entire boat and use its wood, metal, etcetera, to build all sort of things over here."

He was about to say that they might even be able to build a boat to get them off this island. But Robert stopped. He didn't want to get anyone's hopes up, whether it be the recently stranded or those left here a year ago.

When Kazuki asked about the relationships between the five castaways, Robert felt a chill run up his spine. What was Claire going to say? I sucked Robert's cock to get him to betray his sex slavery employers and sneak us away from captivity for $2 million. He was happily surprised with Claire's answer, though: "...Robert ... he saved us from that island ... rescued us from our captivity. He is a hero to us ... a friend."

Robert smiled a bit, a bit embarrassed to have his part in what happened glossed over as Claire had. Kazuki translated his sister's compliment, to which Robert gave a knod-bow to the Japanese woman and said, "Thank you, but I'm not a hero or anything. I was just doing what was right."

His biggest fear, of course, was that Kazuki and Akira would come to realize that he had been part of the ring and had only done what he did for the money. Oh, it had been the right thing to do, of course. And, you could probably call him a hero for doing it. Of course, a hero wouldn't take the money. Robert planned on taking that money and running away as fast and far away as he could.

"I don't know about any of you," Claire told them, "but I'm about ready to get some sleep."

They talked about beds, and even though Claire had talked about setting the second bed issue with rock-paper-scissors, he told her with a big smirk, "I'll take the floor. You know, in keeping with my hero status."

Robert built up the fire, laid down close to it, and stared at Claire for a minute or two. She had quickly drifted off to sleep, and while he tried to remain awake to think about the next day and days to come, he fell asleep from exhaustion soon, too.

"Come over here," Claire was whispering to him after waking him with a gentle kick. She explained herself, and not having any reason not to follow her instructions, Robert got up, gave her his blanket, and was soon in bed, spooning Claire.

"I woke up this morning to find you groping my tit," she whispered.

He chuckled, confessing, "Yeah, um, the girls told me this morning before breakfast."

Robert hesitated before adding, "I'd say I was sorry, but really..."

He chuckled again. But, knowing better, he did whisper, "Sorry. It was unconscious habit."

"For the benefit of all of us..." Claire told him, "...it might be a good idea that we not get too close right now ... until ... you know ... we figure out just what the hell's gonna happen to us all."

"Of course," Robert said immediately. He didn't like the idea of maintaining a proper, non-intimate relationship with the woman who had so skillfully sucked his cock on three previous occasions. But he would abide by what ever Claire dictated of him on this topic. "Friends. That's all."

A moment later, Claire's backside, including that delicious, pear shaped but of hers, was pressed firmly against his front side. Robert couldn't help but get hard; he pulled his hips back from Claire in an attempt to hide his erection from her, but she only pressed back into him again, as she explained, "This is for keeping warm ... nothing else."

"Of course," Robert repeated, knowing full well that his hardening cock had to be obvious against Claire's butt cheek. She moved a bit a moment later, for comfort, and her ass only pressed harder against his shaft, even causing it to move more into the crevice of her bun as she got comfortable. Robert tried to stifle a giggle but failed, explaining rather crudely, "All that blood rushing down to my penis right now, that's just to keep it warm, of course."

He laughed again, pulled Claire tighter to him, and in a short time was asleep.



Robert awoke last the following morning, alone as the other three adults were preparing breakfast and/or partaking of the giggling infant. Kazuki and Akira both looked a thousand percent better than they had the day before, and that had been after just two good meals. Robert was sure they would soon be back to their old energetic selves soon enough, which he explained to Kazuki, who of course translated to Akira.

"I'm going to go signal the others," Robert told Claire as breakfast was being served. "They need to know what's happening here. All I told them yesterday was that we were staying the night here. I didn't tell them why."
 
When Robert made his joke about the erection pressing against the back of her, Claire couldn't help but laugh. She hadn't intended on stimulating him, but she wasn't surprised when she did. She should have pulled her own lower body forward as Robert had with his own, but she didn't. She was smiling as she was enjoying his discomfort ... and maybe thoughts of comfort.



Claire awoke before Robert, as she had the previous morning. Ironically, the previous night they'd each gone to sleep laying on their backs and waking in a spooning position, but last night they'd gone to sleep spooning each other and awoke with Robert on his back and Claire turned against him, with her head in the crook of his shoulder and the arm wrapped around her.

She got up slowly, slipping out of the blankets and tucking them around the man. Claire took a long moment to simply study Robert. She had been having and still was having a difficult time reconciling what had happened between them back on the island and the feelings she'd developed for him. Claire had never been the type to fall for bad boys, and she'd never stayed with a man who'd shown violent tendencies toward her or anyone else, let alone hit her.

And yet, she had frequent thoughts about having the cock she'd thrice sucked pounding hard into her pussy after the man's mouth had done to her what hers had done to him.

Only now did Claire realize that Akira was no longer in her bed. She rose and found the baby gone as well. Slipping back into her boots with the laces only loosely tied, she headed for the bathroom, where she found the young mother bathing her little one. They chatted while Akira finished and Claire washed her pits, then headed back to the living room of the home to start breakfast.

"I'm going to go signal the others," Robert told Claire.

"I'll go with you, obviously," Claire told him, looking to Kazuki to explain, "It takes two to row that thing. We'll try to find a way to make a sail when we come back."

She snatched up the canvas sea bag in which they'd brought their first round of supplies, telling Kazuki, "We'll come back with more food, blankets ... stuff like that."

Claire and Robert headed for the sea wall, signaled the other girls that they were on their way, and asked her companion, "Any ideas on a sail?"

He had some, and while Claire had had her own, his were much better. She asked, "Do we make one for each of the rafts or will one sail move both?"

Again, Robert had an answer that made sense to Claire. She descended to the raft first, caught the empty sea bag, and helped steady the rope for Robert as he followed behind her. In no time, they were rowing away from the island. Claire hadn't expected it, but when she looked up to the sea wall, the two siblings were standing there, waving and smiling.

"We'll be back today!" she called to them, before looking to Robert and asking, "Won't we?"
 
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