Callum Drift's Arc

Chapter 6 of 6

Callum led the group back to camp near dawn. The signal fire had burned down to embers overnight. He let it stay low now. The smoke had done its work. He looked at the crowd around him and felt the problem settle in his gut. His shelter held one hurt man. Now eight bodies pressed toward it. Rowan sat propped by the shelter wall, his hurt leg stretched out. He grinned when he saw them all. "You brought everyone," he said. Marian crouched beside him, still holding wet leaves for his wound. Harper dropped her pack and counted heads. "One roof," she said. "One fire. Eight people. This won't hold." She was right. The rough little shelter, pieced from wreck boards and torn canvas, barely covered two. At night the crew would spill into the open. And the fish Callum caught fed one man for days, not a whole crew for one meal. Callum knelt and opened Louis's waterproof case. Rows of manuals stood dry inside. He pulled one on building and spread it flat on the sand. "We stop crowding one shelter," he said. "We build more. Space for everyone." He tapped the diagram. "We have the tools. We have the guide. We use both." Declan crouched beside him. The red-haired man had carried the toolbox all the way from the south shore. He was older than Callum, steady with his hands, quick to work rather than talk. He opened the box and laid out the saw and blades. "Show me the marks," he said. "I'll cut what you need." They worked through the morning. Callum measured spots for three shelters using the manual's plan. Declan sawed wreck boards to length. Harper lashed frames with cord from her pack. Finn hauled leaves for roofing. Louis read aloud from the guide, calling out each step. By afternoon two frames stood beside the old shelter, and a third took shape. But the food problem stayed. Callum saw Finn's hollow cheeks and heard Rowan's stomach growl. One spear and one fisher could not feed eight. He turned to Declan. "You're steady with your hands. We need a hunter who won't miss." He handed him the spear he'd made days ago. "Take the water and the shallows. Keep this crew fed while we build." Declan weighed the spear. He nodded once. "I'll bring back a catch by dark." He waded out past the rocks. Within the hour he speared three fish and dragged them to the fire. Louis stoked the embers back to a full flame. The crew ate together for the first time. By dusk three rough shelters ringed the fire. Every crew member had a roof and a full stomach. Callum looked at the settlement taking shape and let out a breath. They were no longer scattered. They were housed. Now the island stretched dark around them, and he knew a camp this size would draw notice, and would need far more than fish to last.