DESPERATE  MEASURES

PART 10:

Maximus lay on the wet sand until the light had gone, aware of the water shifting

the sand under his body. The feeling of it fit his mood.  He was...foundationless. 

Everything he'd built his life on, none of it, applied here. Wherever here was.  He

had asked Brianna the one thing...was this a mental trick like the pine forest, the
rock ledge?  She had said it was not and, so far as he could tell, she'd spoken the

truth.  For a change, he added, digging his fingers into the sand on either side of him.

He, too, could still feel her skin under his touch in the bath house pool. How had he

let his guard down so easily, let himself feel so much so soon?  After all that time of

guarding his heart, not giving it permission to feel such things, he had opened it to

someone who was playing falsely with him.  Damn!  He smashed his right fist down

hard but with no more results than a quick splash.

The tide was coming in and his feet, pointing toward the sea, began to rise and fall as

the water deepened. The night was moonless, dark, as he stared straight up, not yet

moving.  The next wave curved up over his neck and he had to tip his chin to keep it

off his face.

It was then Sid came out of the palms behind the sand and saw the dim outline of a

dark form lying at the water's edge.  He'd spent the entire afternoon and evening

combing the island, searching for Brianna, who seemed to have vanished into thin

air. He strode rapidly across the sand, wondering if it might be her at last, but

stopped when he saw it was the General.  He studied him a moment, watching his

feet move with the small waves. Good Lord!  Was the man...dead?  Then he saw the

quick upward jerk of his chin to avoid a larger wave.  Perplexed, he came closer.

"Trying to drown ourselves, are we?"

Maximus kept his eyes closed. Was nowhere safe from Sid's presence?  The next wave

did roll over his face and he was forced to hold his breath a moment then, reluctantly,

sat up, his back still to his unwanted visitor.

Sid considered asking him if he'd seen Brianna during the day but changed his mind.

If he asked, it would be letting Maximus become aware he himself did not know.  That

was not where he wanted the General's mind. It was far better for Maximus to think

the two of them were...companionable.  Besides, it was rather obvious the General was

alone, had been alone.  No footprints save Sid's own crossed the sand. 

Still, there was this odd tug in Sid's neurons, as though some part of him yearned to be

where it truly belonged. No, he said to himself sternly, you are mine now.  Part of ME!

"Why are you here?" Maximus growled, his voice low, menacing.

"Just looking for pretty shells to make a necklace for Brianna," Sid returned lightly.

"There are none on this beach," Maximus said, still not turning. "There is...nothing...

of interest on this beach."

"So I see," Sid replied, smiling though Maximus could not see it. "Well, I'll be off, then. 

Can't keep a lady waiting, you know."

Maximus listened to the the soft squish of Sid's footfalls fading on the wet sand, then

sighed heavily. When he was sure Sid had gone, he rose slowly, dipping handfuls of

water to wash away the sand that clung to him.   He looked down the beach, the

headland faintly visible, a darker bulk against the dark sky.  Home? He laughed, the

sound harsh and dry, lost in the crash of the incoming waves.

Brianna had lain there all day, a terrible thirst growing by the hour. With much effort,

she gathered her knees under her and crept the few feet to the edge of the pond,

scooping up its cool water.  The day must have gotten extremely hot. She could feel the

sweat dripping down her in runnels as she moved.  She was more exhausted than she'd

thought. Just the effort of getting to the edge of the pond had drained her.  Her neck

ached, felt hotter than the rest of her, and she pressed a handful of water against it,

letting it drip down around her collarbone.  It was tender there and seemed swollen to

her.  Had something bitten her while she slept?  She couldn't remember. All she knew

was that she needed to lie down again.  Before she left the pond's edge, she drank deeply

twice more.  Damn, her head hurt!  It took her twice as long to get to the back of the

depression. All the vines she'd used to pad her bed had washed away during the storm,

leaving nothing but bare rock and sections of mud.  It would have to do. After she
rested, felt better, then she would find another place.  As her heavy lids closed, she

murmured softly, "Maximus," then was asleep.

Sid made his way through the palms back to his shelter, deliberately not taking the

shore route past the headlands. "Where ARE you, Brianna?"  He picked up a small

coconut, flinging it into the darkness. How could she have found a place so secluded

that even he was not able to locate it?  Well, it was no use looking further tonight.
He'd go out again first light. It was an island, was it not?  There was a finite amount

of land surface to cover. He would find her.  Sooner or later he would find her.

"Then what, Sid?" he said to himself.  "What if she spits in your face?  What then?" 

He smiled. He would charm her with his great Maximusness.  He knew he could control

it now, unleash it or keep it tucked deep inside as he willed. Or so it seemed. 

Back in his shelter, he settled himself for a night with Marcus Aurelius and, this time, 

Bach.  He'd worked hard since leaving his movie to develop a taste for the finer things. 

Nothing but the best for the best, which was, of course, himself.  And now, well, now he

was even better.

It was harder, making his way around the rocks of the headland with the tide coming

in, and in the night as well. Personal safety was not a terrible concern at the moment,

though. He needed to get back to the space that he had claimed as his own, needed the

light of his small fire, a drink from his little spring basin.  And there would be the
fruit he'd brought there this afternoon.  It was, perhaps, all he would ever again be

able to call home.

He was forced to cling to the rocks as waves, now chest-high, crashed into him.  Once

he lost his grip on the wet stone and was pulled yards away, fighting to swim back to

the rocks.  When he finally gained the sand of his little cove, he sat, gasping for breath

before being able to make his way into the cave.  His fire had crumbled into glowing
embers and he filled his arms with driftwood from the pile he'd gathered, following the

faint light that was all that showed him his way toward the pitch blackness of the back

regions of the cave.  As he fed small pieces of wood into it and the flames grew again, he

looked at it gratefully.  A fire was not a bad companion. 

Later, after he'd eaten and drunk,  he lay on his ledge-bed watching the shadows from

the fire dance on the walls, making the flowing shapes of the rock formations even

more strangely beautiful.  Suddenly he remembered the large object in the sky when

Sid had opened the wall panel, the sound it had made.  It looked like some giant metal

bird. What had it been?  He squeezed his eyes closed.  One of Sid's mental tricks again. 

No more than that.  Such things did not really exist.

ON TO PART 11

BACK TO LIBRISCROWE

BACK TO PART 9

BACK TO INDEX