Island Heat (A Sexy Time Travel Romance With a Twist) (2 page)

A bloated paperback was the first thing I encountered. With a sigh, I tossed it aside. The same thing with my hair-dryer, and my bag of toiletries. There was my curling iron, a few pairs of ruined high heels, a silk business suit that would never look quite right again, pajamas, and a few bikinis. I really hadn’t packed well for being stranded.

The sight of my ruined possessions made my eyes water, and it wasn’t long before I was blubbering like a baby, feeling sorry for myself as I clutched my ruined shoes to my chest. My stomach growled as I cried, and it only made me sob even harder. What was I going to eat? My travel hairspray? My silk suit?

I sniffed and wiped my eyes. No amount of tears was going to make someone appear to rescue me – heck, I’d even settle for Mr. Wingarde and his grabby hands right about now. I shoved my stuff back into my suitcase and stared down at it. If my suitcase had washed up, it stood to reason that maybe some other things would show up too. Things like my purse – which had some Tic-Tacs and a cellphone – or maybe a parachute, or someone that had actually been on the plane.

I took out my blue bikini and changed out of my ruined clothing. Putting on a fresh change of clothes felt better. The soggy linen wasn’t sticking to my sunburned thighs any longer, so that was a plus. I crammed the old clothes in the suitcase and jerked the handle, dragging the heavy thing down the beach with me. I didn’t like the thought of leaving it behind, even if it was useless to me.

The beach seemed to stretch on endlessly, and still I saw no one as I walked. My tongue and lips felt swollen from the salty air.

At some point, the beach changed slightly, the sand turning grittier and thicker, and I saw rocky shoals up ahead and the remnants of the plane on the shore.

Uneasy, I resisted the urge to run for it and forced myself to walk slowly. There was a panicky feeling in my gut that told me I wouldn’t like what I saw. The panicky feeling turned out to be right. Before I’d even made it to the plane, about a half-mile away, I uncovered the bloated remains of the captain.

Or at least, part of the captain. It looked like his lower-half. The upper part of his torso was gone entirely. Fighting the urge to throw up, I unpacked some of my ruined clothes and covered his body.

The captain was the only sign of life – such as it was – around the wreckage. I found some of the seats from the plane itself, and tons of curled, burnt equipment, but nothing else. The entire beach smelled of blood and scorched metal. Inside the remains of the cockpit, I found the source of the smell – the other half of the captain, bloody and pungent, baking under the heat of the broken window. The other cockpit window was intact, but the pilot’s side had been busted open and was covered in blood, and that was how his legs had...traveled. I had to quickly exit, sliding the door shut behind me.

Whatever had happened after I’d passed out, it hadn’t been pretty. I said a quick prayer for the man and hoped his death had been quick.

There was no sign of the stewardess or Mr. Wingarde. Maybe they’d survived too, and had left the beach.

After searching through the wreckage, however, I did find the remains of the beverage cart and bags of pretzels, and nearly swooned with happiness. I spent the next several minutes cramming food into my dry mouth in an effort to stop the angry grumbling of my stomach. Each broken pretzel tasted like absolute heaven, and the plastic bottles of water I scrounged from the drink cart were even better than that.

Once I’d drank and eaten my fill, and my stomach was comfortably bloated, I carefully stored the rest of the drinks and food in my suitcase. I counted them up as I did so – I had maybe enough to last me another day or two, no more than that. Scary. I’d be out of food in less than two days. The thought of that made my appetite go away very quickly.

My suitcase packed, the wreckage ransacked, and the sun going down, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself. I could keep eating my pretzels and drink the rest of the water and soda that I’d found, but what would I do after that? I eyed the noisy edge of the jungle, wondering just how big the island was, and just how far the trees extended. Maybe there were fruit in the trees, or coconuts. What else grew on an island?

I decided I’d stick by the aircraft for now. Anyone looking for our plane would surely see it on the beach, and I wanted to make sure that I was around when they came looking for survivors. I didn’t want to miss anything because I was traipsing through the jungle in search of something to eat. Surely I could hold out for a few days on pretzels and Diet Coke.

But then what?

Shivering, I huddled under the flight jacket and watched the moon rise. I was thankful to be alive, no mistake...but I wasn’t sure what to do now.

Over time, the island grew noisier. The change was slow to build, but it seemed that the darker it grew, the louder the quiet beach became. A cacophony of noises reached my ears – the chitter of birds, the sounds of the bushes rustling, and low, strange bellows echoing in the distance that I couldn’t make out. Cattle? Oxen? On an island? Uneasy, I rubbed my arms and moved a bit further up atop the jet.

That was when I saw the tiny lizards. I’d almost missed them, so small and just about the same color as the beach. About the same size and shape as chickens, they ran about the beach in a small pack, cheeping and raising their heads, examining the wreckage of the airplane.

Charmed despite my circumstances, I smiled for the first time that day. They were so cute. I snapped my fingers, trying to get their attention. “Here, kitty kitty.” Sure, it wasn’t a cat, but the way it cocked it’s head so inquisitively made the phrase spring to mind. “Do you like pretzels?” I snapped my fingers a few more times, and one looked up at me, cocking its inquisitive head.

It peeped at me, then wandered away. They all seemed to be concentrating on the far end of the wreckage, and I slid out to the edge of the wing to see what was going on, my view hidden by a rocky outcropping. What I saw chilled me to my core. The tiny, cute lizards were crawling over the dead captain’s body, ripping at what was left and devouring it. They swarmed over it like rats.

Revolted, I got to my feet. I couldn’t let it happen. It didn’t matter that the man was dead and his other half was splattered across the cockpit. He didn’t deserve to be eaten, nor could I sit to watch. “Shoo!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Go away!” It didn’t work; neither did waving my hands frantically in the air. The things ignored me like I wasn’t there, maddened by the smell of carrion. It was like watching a miniature pack of sharks go to work.

I had to do something. I hopped down from the wing and stormed across the sands, taking the jacket off my shoulders and shaking it like a matador cape. “Get out of here,” I bellowed. “Shoo! Get!”

The little lizards couldn’t be pried away until I smacked them with the jacket, and I spent a lot of time shaking it in their faces and kicking them away, all the while careful to watch my step so as not to step on the half-eaten legs of the pilot. The tiny lizards snapped at me and gave a flurry of protesting chirps, but it was like trying to chase away the tide. I’d shoo away a handful, and they’d run back around to the other side and congregate there, until I chased them away again. Frustrated, I dropped the jacket and shook my head. “What am I going to do now? I can’t let you
eat
him.”

One of the vile little creatures ran over my foot, racing past me. Irritated, I shifted in the sand, scowling at the long score his claws had left on my already raw skin. The little bastard had nearly ripped my foot open running away...

Running...away?

Puzzled, I watched as the little lizards scattered down the beach, disappearing against the sand and melting into the shadows as if they’d never been here. “Huh,” I said to myself, planting my hands on my hips. “That’s weird.” After all, I hadn’t scared them one bit. I wondered what it would take to frighten those creatures enough to scurry away...

The moment the thought crossed my mind, the hackles on the back of my neck stood.

Thump…thump…

Thump thump.

I turned, slowly.

An enormous, toothy lizard on its hind legs stood about a hundred feet down the beach, sniffing at the sand and flicking its tail like an angry cat. The head was grossly oversized, the front legs shrunken and pulled against the front chest, but the claws on the feet were enough to make me feel faint as the creature continued down the beach, heading in my direction.

Thump…thump…

Thump thump.

I could feel the ground quake under my feet with every thump that his feet made in the sand. Every heavy thump was a footfall.

A dinosaur.

On the beach.

A big, fucking, Tyrannosaurus Rex on the damn beach.

I’d lost my mind.

I screamed.

It was the wrong thing to do, of course. The creature turned towards me, beady eyes gleaming, and he swayed on his feet, nostrils sniffing the air.
Thump, thump.
His feet crashed on the ground with each movement.
Thump. Thump.
He moved closer, and I took a step backward, nearly tripping over the bloody half of the pilot.

Thump, thump.
The tail swished as the creature lowered his head and began to move forward again, sniffing the air. I stepped over the body and retreated a few more steps, trying to determine if the T-Rex was coming to check out the pilot’s remains like the others, or if it was hunting me.

I stepped to the side.

His eyes followed me, and the dinosaur moved forward a few more steps, trying to be stealthy, like a cat hunting its prey.
Thump thump thump thump.

Shiiiiiit.
I
was his prey.

I turned and ran. The staccato beats that shook the ground behind me told me that it had decided to chase me.
Thump thump thumpthumpthumpthump.

My hands clawed for the airplane door and I slipped inside moments before the creature’s jaws snapped. The plane had landed on its side when it had crashed, and as a result, everything in the cabin was tilted at a ninety-degree angle. I landed on something loose – a seat belt? – and fell, face first, into the cabin. My chin banged against something hard and metal and square, and my head reeled. I picked myself up, breathing hard.

Something hot and wet spattered on my leg, and I got to my knees, crouching and wondering what it was. I looked up at the door, moonlight silhouetting the large, alien jaws that hovered over the door itself, drool dripping down and landing on me. As I watched, a long, disgusting tongue slithered out of the mouth and licked the edges of the doorframe, testing it.

I cringed against one of the seats. He couldn’t get to me. Maybe if I didn’t move, he’d go away.

No luck; I heard it snuffling about the door, testing the metal and licking to determine how to get its prey out of the hole it had hidden itself in. It was trying to puzzle out the situation, figure out how to flush me out.

The T-Rex crunched down against the metal of the door, and when it didn’t peel back, I heard it bellow in outrage and shake its head like a dog would with a chew-toy. The plane rocked and I stumbled backward, losing my footing.

Encouraged, the Tyrannosaur grabbed the edge of the door with its teeth again and began to shake once more, the entire wreckage trembling. The remnant of the broken plane I hid in wasn’t very long, and the far end had broken off at some point. If he figured out that tipping the plane a bit more would mean I would fall out the other end, I was a goner. The plane shook again, and when I fell back against the chairs, I looked up at the bloody cockpit.

It was the only place left for me to go. I climbed up, ignoring the fact that my hands slid on sticky, slimy things, and pried my body upward, clinging to broken seat-belts and doors and chairs still rooted to the floor. I managed to pry myself into the small cabin, ignoring the dead half of the pilot, and curled up in a small nook, tucking my legs close to me and staring up at the spattered windows, waiting for the sun to rise.

Please
, I thought.
I’m sorry I was so ungrateful for being left alive. I promise I’ll never ask for anything ever again if you make the damn thing go away.

The T-Rex shook the plane again, and then gave a snort of frustration. The plane stilled. My heart hammered in my throat, and I wondered if it had gone away for good. I stayed frozen in place. If I kept quiet enough, maybe it would leave.

An ear-splitting roar hit my ears, and as I watched, the creature leaned over the front of the aircraft, peering into the broken window and sniffing the glass. I froze, watching as that horrible tongue snaked out again, touching the edges of the broken window and tasted the pilot’s blood. My heart sank – he’d never leave now.

I shrank back further, realizing that my great idea of hiding in the cockpit had turned out to be even worse. If he noticed that I was here, I was within eating distance. All he’d have to do is bust through the glass and I’d be dead. I burrowed against the back of the plane, not caring that it was sticky with gore. I couldn’t scream anymore — I was too terrified.

Something hard and flat poked into my backside and shifted as I did so, and I twisted around it. It felt like a case of some sort. My fingers fumbled with the latches as I brought it to my lap, hoping for something, anything.

Success – my searching fingers locked around the flare gun, and I nearly wept with relief. I cocked the damn thing and pointed it with shaking fingers out the broken window. The creature had reared back, no longer licking at the grass, but was staring in, eyeing the inside of the cabin. Looking for me.

I fired. The flare arced into the air like a bolt of sunlight, shining high above in the sky.

The dinosaur roared in pain and moved away from the window. I hadn’t hit it, but maybe I’d blinded it with the bright light. I clutched the flare gun close to me and stared up at the evening sky, waiting for the return of the monster.

Luck was with me. It didn’t return after all. I kissed the barrel of the flare gun in silent relief, and said a prayer of thanks that the pilot hadn’t used the gun before I could.