When Lucas opened his eyes, the first thing that reached him was sound of waves, steady and unhurried, breaking somewhere nearby. Then warmth across his face. Then the particular roughness of wet sand pressing into his palms.
He blinked several times while his vision sorted itself out.
Ocean ahead of him. Palm trees further up the shore. Pieces of broken wood scattered across the sand in no particular order. Sunlight coming from the wrong angle for it to be the same time of day as when the cruise went under.
"...What."
He pushed himself upright slowly, sitting on the shore of an island he had never seen in his life, and looked around at the complete absence of anything that explained how he'd gotten there.
Both hands came up in front of his face automatically. He flexed his fingers. Touched his cheek. Pinched his wrist hard enough to produce a genuine reaction.
"Ow, okay. it's real."
He rubbed the back of his neck and let the memories arrive in whatever order they wanted to.
