Jordan Black's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Two days ago, Jordan Black boarded a cruise ship with six friends to celebrate graduation. Now he stood alone on a strange beach, screaming their names at empty water. The ship had rolled over in the night. He remembered the cold, the shouting, then nothing until the sand woke him. His friends could be anywhere along this coast. They could be dead. He had no boat, no map, no way to look. He kept walking the shoreline, checking every dark shape in the surf. Each one was a rock or a broken crate. Never a person. By noon his throat was raw. The beach curved into cliffs he couldn't climb. Past them, the coast stretched for miles he had no way to reach. He sat down and pressed his palms into his eyes. That was when he heard footsteps in the sand behind him. A girl about his age stood a few feet away. Long black hair. A shell bracelet on one wrist. She held a coconut and studied him like he might bolt. A small brown puppy circled her ankles, sniffing toward Jordan. "You washed up too," she said. Not a question. "I found the others. Some of them." Jordan stood so fast his head spun. "Others? My friends? Where—" "Slow down." She held up a hand. "I'm Leilani. I live here. I found three people down the beach at dawn. That way, past the rocks." She pointed the direction he couldn't climb. "Three," Jordan said. His chest tightened. "There were seven of us. Are they okay? Who are they?" "Two boys, one girl. Breathing. Cut up, tired, but alive." Leilani watched his face. "I couldn't carry them far. I made them rest in an old hut and came looking for anyone else." Jordan grabbed her arm without thinking. "Take me." She didn't pull away. She looked at his hand, then at him. "There's a trail through the trees. The cliffs are the only fast way, and you can't climb those." The puppy barked once, sharp, and trotted toward the treeline. They followed it. The trail cut inland through thick brush, then dropped back toward the water. A weathered wooden hut sat in a clearing, its red roof faded, its door hanging open. Jordan ran the last stretch and shoved inside. Three figures lay on woven mats. He knew all three faces. Not the four he wanted most, but three he loved. One girl opened her eyes and whispered his name. Jordan dropped to his knees and gripped her hand. Then the counting hit him. Three here. Seven on the ship. Four still missing, somewhere he couldn't reach on foot. Leilani leaned in the doorway. "Whoever else is out there, the current pulls south. Toward the far coast." She paused. "That's the King's land. And he doesn't like strangers washing up on it."