Gold of the Gods by Bear Grylls

Author:Bear Grylls [Bear Grylls]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781407042213
Publisher: RHCP

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Beck shook the sleep from his exhausted body. He'd collapsed under a palm tree, his limbs leaden and bruised. Not far off, he could hear Marco groaning and turning restlessly. After a fruitless hunt for Christina, their shouts drowned out by the roar of the surf, the boys had reluctantly abandoned the search until first light.

After they landed, Marco had been hysterical, running blindly back and forth along the beach, screaming Christina's name. Realizing the danger of sapping their remaining energy, Beck had eventually calmed the boy down and convinced him that Christina had probably been washed ashore further up the coast. 'We're still alive, so there's no reason why she won't be,' he had reasoned, trying desperately to keep Marco's spirits up. He wished Ringo were around, but there had been no sign of the parakeet since the raft had started to pitch in the surf. At least they still had the machete, safe in its sheath around his waist.

Now the sun was rising over the headland into a deep blue sky. The tattered remnants of the previous night's storm clouds were strung out along the horizon like rags on a washing line. Scattered along the white sand of the beach lay the wreckage of the Bella Señora. The broken mast and the balsa logs rolled listlessly in the waves. The sail, battered and torn, had been tossed onto the beach like a sodden rag.

Beck shook his head. Something was flashing across his closed eyelids like a doctor's bright torch. He tossed his head irritably, as if flicking hair out of his eyes, and groaned. The beginnings of a headache for sure. One that would get far worse as the sun rose higher in the sky. He swallowed. He could already feel the dryness in his throat and the day had hardly begun.

But then the flash came again. And again.

Shielding his eyes with his hand, he peered out across the beach towards the headland, where it stuck out from the bay like a crooked finger. Something very odd was happening. Marco was awake and skipping down the beach, dodging from side to side as if playing a game of touch rugby. The beam of light was dancing over his body as he chased it along the beach towards the headland.

But now the beam was still again and had settled into a pattern. The flashes came in bursts of three: short, long, and then short again. Beck recognized it at once. Morse code. SOS. The international distress signal. The lost crew member of the Bella Señora was signalling to them from the cliff on the headland.

'I just did as you told me, Beck,' said Christina when the three teenagers were reunited later that morning. Marco was beside himself with joy and Christina wiped tears of relief from her eyes. 'All I remember was a huge wave picking me up and dragging me into the sea. I didn't fight it but just went with the current. I must have been dragged into the next bay.

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