One Perfect Couple by Ruth Ware

Author:Ruth Ware [Ware, Ruth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Thriller, Mystery, Adult, Suspense, Contemporary
ISBN: 9781668025598
Google: 9s8DEQAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1668025590
Barnesnoble: 1668025590
Goodreads: 199798953
Publisher: Gallery/Scout Press
Published: 2024-05-21T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

BACK UP AT the cabana, the others had woken up and had been busy making breakfast. There was a little driftwood fire smoldering in the sand just off the corner of the decking, and Dan and Santana were drinking cups of something that looked and smelled a lot like black coffee. Angel was picking at a tin of fruit salad, and Bayer had unscrewed the lid of one of the water bottles and was chugging directly from the neck, water running down his chin. Joel was nibbling a brioche. On the far side of the clearing a bird was sitting in a tree, balefully nibbling on a brioche it must have stolen when no one was looking. Only Zana wasn’t eating or drinking.

“Look, I found coffee!” Santana called as we came closer, holding up her cup. “You want some?”

“Put that down,” Conor said flatly. Santana set down her coffee cup.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Not you, him.” He nodded at Bayer, who lowered the water bottle with menacing slowness.

“What did you say?” His voice was full of a pent-up aggression that made me pause in my ascent of the steps, but Conor didn’t blink. He walked up to the table and sat, his demeanor calm.

“Look, we should have talked about this last night, but we need to start rationing our supplies. Particularly water. Lyla and I were just down at the cove. There’s no sign of the boat, and we have to assume we might be in this for the long haul.”

“What do you mean, particularly water?” Angel raised one eyebrow. “We have liters and liters of water. We spent all day hauling the stupid stuff up from the staff quarters.”

“We actually don’t have that much,” I said, a little diffidently. I sat down beside Joel. “Conor and I were just running through the maths and… he’s right. We’re going to need about eight liters a day just to survive. At that rate, we’ll be through the water in two or three weeks.”

“Sorry, but eight liters is ridiculous,” Santana said with a smile. “Even the biggest hydration freak wouldn’t drink that much. We don’t need to wash with bottled water, we can use the sea for that.”

“Not eight liters a person,” Conor spelled it out. “Eight liters for all of us. A liter each. Per day.”

“What?” Dan looked confused. “But—that’s not enough to survive? Not in this heat.”

“Unless it rains, it’ll have to be. I went all over this island and there’s no water supply.”

“We could dig a well?” Santana said uncertainly. Conor shook his head.

“We’re basically a big sand bar in the middle of the ocean. Any well is just going to be seawater, and we’ve got plenty of that already.”

“Fuck.” Bayer banged the big bottle down on the table so hard the water splashed and spattered the surface. Everybody winced. I caught Joel staring at the droplets, watching as they evaporated from the hot surface of the wood.

“We’ve got the tins of fruit salad,” Conor was saying. “They have a fair amount of liquid we can use to pad out the water.

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