Morning came slowly, the forest bathed in soft golden light. The wild cat had turned away during the night, disappearing silently into the trees, probably searching for new prey. I let out a quiet sigh of relief but didn't relax. Animals were smart, unpredictable. Wild cats could stay on higher ground and leap down at any moment. My grip tightened around Kate's small hand.
"We need to move," I whispered, shifting carefully, scanning the undergrowth with sharp eyes. Every rustle, every shadow made my heart beat faster. We proceeded cautiously, step by step.
Deeper in the forest, the sound of flowing water reached me. I followed it and found a small stream, slow but clear. I scooped some into our bamboo bottle, grateful for the fresh, clean water. We drank sparingly and continued our cautious journey. No sign of the giant cat appeared, but I stayed vigilant. It could come from anywhere, at any time.
As the day passed, I realized we needed a safe spot to rest. Nothing obvious appeared, so I settled near a cluster of stone rocks, a small natural alcove that could provide cover. I knew we needed fire—not only for warmth but to ward off any curious animals.
With determination, I rubbed the stick hard against a rough stone, constructing a crude bow drill. The friction burned my hands, muscles aching, but finally a small ember ignited. Gently, I blew it to life, adding dry sticks until a small fire roared softly, sending up a faint plume of smoke. The warmth spread, and the flames danced, a fragile shield against the unknown.
Then I noticed it—a glimmer of eyes, reflecting faintly in the forest shadows. The giant cat was observing us, crouched just beyond the firelight. Its gaze held caution now, fear perhaps, as the flames kept it at bay.
I exhaled slowly, relief washing over me, but I didn't let my guard down. I crouched down, pulling Kate close, her small body trembling slightly against mine.
"Mommy… will we be fine?" she whispered, eyes wide with concern.
I hugged her tighter, letting the warmth of our bodies mix with the heat of the fire. "Everything will be fine, my girl. We are alive. That's what matters. We'll stay alive, together."
For the first time that day, I allowed myself a small moment of calm, watching the flames flicker against the rocks, feeling Kate's heartbeat steady against mine. Survival was still a challenge, but at least for now, we were safe.
As the fire burned low and the forest hummed softly around us, I spotted a plant growing near the rocks. Its thick green leaves glistened with dew. Something about it felt familiar. I crouched closer, brushing away the dirt and dead leaves. Then it hit me—I had seen this on a survival show years ago, a plant used to treat wounds.
Carefully, I tore off a leaf and crushed it between my fingers, releasing a faint, bitter scent. My palms already raw and scraped, I applied a small bit to a tiny cut on my arm, testing for any reaction. The skin stung slightly at first, then cooled. No redness, no burning—good. Safe.
I smiled faintly, relief washing over me. "This will help," I whispered, thinking of the blisters on Kate's legs from yesterday's long walk and her worn shoes. I gathered more leaves, crushing them into a rough paste, and gently applied it to Kate's blisters. She winced but didn't cry, trusting me completely.
We rested there, leaning against the stone wall and watching the small fire flicker. I stayed alert, scanning the shadows beyond the firelight for any movement. The giant cat hadn't returned yet, but I knew better than to relax completely. Its eyes could appear at any time, and we had to be ready.
Kate curled into my side, her breathing steady now, and I stroked her hair while thinking about our next steps. More food, more water, safer paths, and staying hidden from danger. Each day was a careful balance between rest, vigilance, and survival.
As the sun began to dip behind the distant trees, I whispered to her, "Sleep now, my brave girl. We'll keep the fire alive, and I'll keep watch. Nothing will touch us tonight."
For a moment, I let myself imagine safety, even if it was temporary. Survival was exhausting, but we were still alive. And with each careful choice, each cautious step, we were getting closer to making it through this island alive, together.
We gathered as much fruit as our hands and arms could carry, carefully wrapping it in large leaves. Water bottles secured, fire safely put out, we moved forward, deeper into the forest. The giant cat seemed to have disappeared, probably finding easier prey elsewhere, but I didn't let my guard down. Every rustle of leaves or snap of a branch made me tense.
Days passed. Our journey was slow and exhausting, each step heavy with fatigue. Blisters had formed on our feet, muscles ached, and hunger gnawed at our bellies between meals. Kate trudged beside me, small hands gripping the bamboo bottle, eyes bright but tired. We shared fruit whenever we could, savoring each bite, knowing it might be hours or days before we found more.
Finally, after what felt like an endless trek, the forest began to thin, and before us loomed the base of a huge mountain. Its slopes were steep, but it promised vantage, safety, and perhaps a path to something more secure than this endless jungle. Relief surged through me, though exhaustion weighed heavily.
We found a small alcove formed by rocky walls at the mountain's base. It offered cover from the wind and any potential predators. I sank down against the stones, letting Kate rest against my chest. She leaned into me, eyes half-closed, her small frame trembling slightly from fatigue.
I examined our supplies. The fruits we had carried were mostly intact, though some were bruised. Water bottles were nearly full, thanks to careful rationing. We had enough for tonight, at least. I let myself take a deep breath, feeling the ache of my muscles and the sting of my blisters. For a moment, it was enough just to rest, to let our bodies recover before we tackled the climb ahead.
I brushed hair from Kate's face, whispering softly, "We're almost there, my brave girl. We'll rest tonight, and tomorrow… tomorrow we start the climb."
As night began to fall, I kept watch, scanning the edges of the forest and the base of the mountain. The giant cat had not returned, and no other signs of danger appeared. For now, we were safe.
Even in our exhaustion, the sight of the mountain filled me with determination. This climb would be hard, but it would bring us closer to safety, closer to control over our own survival. And as long as Kate was with me, I knew we could face whatever came next.