Russian Cream Cake
~ Lord of the Flies Fanfiction
Tw: death, cursing, violence/injury, smoking
1. | Shipwrecked
The sea went feral. In just a blink of an eye, the Volchitsa entered a storm, but it was way too old for this ungodly weather. The very few adults and those terrified young girls were desperate to evacuate anyone they could. Three men had already fallen into the water, immediately swallowed by the enormous waves. Comrade Ivanov was most likely dead, since the first broken part of the ship just so happened to be exactly where his cabin was. And one little brown-haired girl called Nadia could not keep her balance after a while. She fell, hit her head on a mast, and was now lying unconscious beneath it.
"Get in the boat!" yelled Comrade Pavlovna, herding every children toward it. The youngest ones crawled in first from the half sunken Volchitsa, trembling from the cold and fear at the same time. The older ones followed them instantly, gathering around them in a protective manner.
"Ruslana! Hurry!" screamed an older, honey-blonde girl after her friend, who finally managed to pick little Nadia up and save her too.
"Come, Comrade Pavlovna" said Ruslana, holding her hand out for her teacher to leave the broken ship with them. However, the woman did not utter a single word. She just teared up, cut the last rope holding her and her students together, then gave the boat a hard push so it could set sail. She hoped that her act would result in the group of girls having a chance to live instead of the certain death she was left kneeling on.
On the boat, every single girl was screaming their objections to Pavlovna, even though it was too late now. They did not even think about taking the oars or steering toward the calmer part of the ocean.
Silence settled over all of them as soon as they realised that their words would not save anyone at all. They all felt helpless and shaken by the traumatic events. One of the twins, an older, tall, butter-blonde girl named Nastya, quietly picked up an oar, fully understanding their current situation. Her shoulder-length strands were still wild from the storm. She handed the oar to her sister Valeriya, who looked exactly like her in an oppressive way, both resembling siamese cats, except her silky hair had grown past her waist.
"That might be the end of the clouds" said Ruslana, this time more quietly, pointing toward the faint flicker of sunshine on the horizon.
"Nastya, Valeriya" spoke up a dark, almost black-haired girl this time, staring at the twins. "Can you row us there?"
The sisters just nodded and got right to their task. Irina, the girl who had asked them to do so, gave off a strange vibe. She looked mysterious, especially because of her serious manner and striking features. Her irises were just as dark as her hair, and beneath her eyes were faint red marks, probably caused by the cold where she came from. They knew there was something about her, but they just could not figure out what it was, since they did not know her well.
Except for Sasha. She and Irina had been inseparable since the day they were born. Not even Irina's own parents understood her as well as Sasha did. It was an unlikely friendship, considering Sasha was everything Irina wasn't.
Where Irina carried herself with quiet severity, Sasha was warmth given human form. She had an almost impossible habit of placing everyone else before herself, sacrificing her own comfort, safety, even happiness without a second thought. It did not matter whether someone had loved her or spent their whole life hurting her, if they needed help, she would offer it anyway. That was simply who she was.
An angel-faced girl with wavy, light-brown hair falling to her shoulders and soft, downturned emerald-green eyes. Sasha moved with an effortless grace that made even the smallest gestures seem gentle. A faint smile almost always rested on her lips, one so sincere it could ease another person's fear before a single word was spoken.
"I knew there was hope!" she called out, her voice brimming with joy. When the other girls looked at her questioningly, she pointed toward a shape that was almost certainly an island. As soon as they reached the edge of the storm, the rising sun revealed what they had been unable to see before.
Nastya and Valeriya quickened their strokes, visibly motivated now. They all longed to bring the boat ashore. Even the littluns were giggling with relief.
The closer they drifted, the clearer the island became. Towering palms swayed in the morning breeze, their leaves still dripping from the storm, while pale sand stretched along the shoreline. The waves that had threatened to swallow them only minutes before now lapped gently against the beach, carrying the little boat toward land.
With one final push of their oars, the hull scraped softly against the sand. For a moment, none of the girls moved. They simply stared at the shore in stunned silence, scarcely believing they had survived. Then, one by one, they climbed out of the boat, their trembling legs sinking into the warm sand as the first rays of sunlight broke over the island.
Irina took a deep breath, releasing the tension that had gripped her body since the storm began. She watched as the younger girls were already running across the beach, laughing and chasing one another as though nothing had happened. They truly believed a rescue ship would appear within hours.
She wished she could believe it too. But something about the island unsettled her. It was too quiet. Apart from the distant cries of seabirds and the gentle rustling of palm leaves, there was nothing. No smoke on the horizon, no passing ships, no signs that anyone had ever set foot there.
The older girls gathered soon after, settling into a circle on the warm sand while the littluns continued to play along the shore. Everyone's clothes were still damp, their hair tangled by the storm, yet there was a strange comfort in finally sitting on solid ground. Irina remained silent until she was certain every older girl was listening. Beside her sat Katerina, whose presence was impossible to ignore. With raven-black hair, sharp, almost intimidating features, and striking heterochromic eyes (one warm brown, the other an icy blue) she looked every bit as calculating as Irina. The difference was that Katerina never hid it. She was blunt, loud, and never hesitated to step into someone's space if she had something cruel to say. Her temper often spoke before her mind did, making her far less respected than Irina despite being just as cunning.
"We won't survive by sitting here," Irina said evenly. "The twins can keep watch over the shoreline. They have sharp eyes. Ruslana, Sasha, you'll look after the younger girls. Katerina and I will search the forest. The rest of you can gather driftwood, anything useful, and fresh water if you find any."
She had spent the journey watching everyone, quietly noticing what each girl was capable of, and now her observations became assignments. There was little hesitation. One by one, the girls nodded, accepting the roles without argument. That was when Svetlana scoffed.
A picture-perfect blonde with a delicate figure and bright blue eyes. She looked like someone who belonged nowhere near a survival situation. She cared far more about appearances, attention, and the opinions of others than anything practical. Behind her sweet looks was a habit of whispering cruel remarks, spreading rumours, and creating conflicts that never existed just because she enjoyed watching them unfold.
"And why exactly should we listen to her?" Svetlana suddenly spoke up, crossing her arms. "Who made Irina the one in charge?"
"You got a better idea, Barbie?" Katerina hissed, looking down at her with clear disdain.
Before Svetlana could respond, a quiet laugh escaped from another girl sitting nearby. Luiza looked almost like Sasha at first glance, with her soft features and gentle expression, though her dirty-blonde hair made her stand out. Unlike the others, she carried herself with a strange lightness, as if she could find something funny even in the worst possible moments. Maybe it was her way of coping, of pretending things were not as terrifying as they truly were.
"Seriously?" Luiza shook her head with a small smile. "We barely survived the fucking storm, almost drowned, and ended up stranded on some random island. This isn't the place for bitching."
Her tone was playful, but there was a firmness underneath it. She was kind almost to a fault, always the first to apologise for someone else's cruelty if she thought they had gone too far. But when someone genuinely deserved her anger, she had no problem saying exactly what she thought.
"Consider the sobranie closed." Irina rose to her feet, paying no attention to another word they said. The sobranie (the Russian term for a highly formal assembly or meeting) was not a gathering to be dismissed lightly. Svetlana surely muttered something disrespectful under her breath as Irina turned away, but the others had already begun heading to their assigned tasks.
"Plastic cunt..." Katerina whispered as she walked into the forest with Irina, still irritated by Svetlana’s earlier remarks.
"She’s a handful, I know," Irina chuckled. "But keep it down next time. The last thing we need is to turn against each other."
"Fine. But I’ll slap her lousy ass as soon as we get home" Katerina said, before getting her leg caught in a plant and falling. Her red blouse was now covered in dirt from the wet soil. She was about to curse the damn plant when she recognized it and immediately picked it up.
"You okay?" Irina asked, clearly confused. Her friend just nodded.
"This is a herb. I just had to learn about it yesterday. We can make tea from it or even use it to season our food." Katerina explained.
"Great, but first things first, we don’t have any food. Actually, anything at all." Irina said, looking at the herb in Katerina’s hand. She crossed her arms in front of her chest while she waited for her friend to finally stand back up.
The two of them carried on through the forest, stepping over roots and pushing past low branches as they searched for anything that might be useful, until Irina stepped onto a patch of sand. It looked a little out of place among the trees, though not enough to raise suspicion with the pond only a short distance away. She took another step, then stopped. Frowning, she walked back and planted her boot in the same spot again. A dull, hollow thud echoed beneath the sand.
"Katerina," she called, taking another careful step. "Come here for a second."
Katerina walked over as Irina tapped the ground again with her boot.
"Do you hear that?" Irina asked. "It sounds like I’m stepping on wood."
Katerina stepped onto the patch of sand beside her and frowned. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, listening carefully.
"...You're right. I hear it too." She stomped on the same spot once more. The hollow thud echoed beneath them. "There's definitely something under here."
The two of them exchanged a glance before dropping to their knees.Using their hands, they brushed the loose sand aside. It came away surprisingly easily, revealing weathered wooden planks beneath. More sand followed until the outline of a large wooden hatch became visible, complete with a rusted iron ring set into its center.
"It really is a door..." Katerina whispered.
Irina wrapped both hands around the iron ring and pulled. The hinges groaned in protest before the hatch slowly lifted, releasing a stale, musty smell from below. A narrow staircase disappeared into the darkness. At the bottom lay a hidden basement lined with old wooden barrels and stacked crates, untouched.
The wooden stairs creaked beneath their feet as they descended into the basement. Dust hung in the air, disturbed only by the light spilling through the open hatch above. Rows of barrels stretched along the walls, while sturdy wooden crates were stacked neatly in the corners. Irina pried open the lid of the nearest crate.
"Holy shit..."
Inside were neatly packed sacks of rice, dried beans, flour, and salt. Another crate held pepper, cinnamon, bay leaves, and other spices that had no business being hidden beneath a forest. Katerina checked one of the barrels and found wine. Another contained vinegar, while a third was filled with dried fish sealed in waxed cloth.
"This is a fortune," Katerina murmured.
Irina opened another crate. It contained jars of preserved vegetables and imported tea, each carefully wrapped to survive a long journey. Neither of them spoke for a moment. The arrangement was too organized to be abandoned. Someone was still using this place.
"It has to be a smuggling route," Katerina finally said. "A ship comes in, unloads everything here, then leaves. Later, another ship arrives, collects the goods, and leaves the payment behind. No markets, no witnesses, no records."
Irina slowly nodded, taking another look around the basement. Whoever had built it had chosen the perfect location. Hidden beneath the forest, only a short walk from fresh water, it was close enough to the shoreline for small boats to reach it unnoticed, yet far enough inland that no one would think to look for it.
"I don't care who this belongs to," Irina said, grabbing a burlap sack. "We're taking whatever we need to eat today."
She filled it with a loaf of hard bread, a small bag of rice, a jar of preserved vegetables, and a handful of dried fish.
"While I do this, see if there's anything we can use to make a fire," she added. "Matches, flint, anything."
Katerina nodded and began searching through the remaining crates. She opened one crate after another, carefully moving aside sacks and bottles. There were more spices, tea, cooking oil, and even neatly folded cloth, but nothing that could start a fire. She checked the shelves along the walls and looked behind the barrels, hoping someone had left a tinderbox behind.
Nothing.
"I couldn't find anything," Katerina said as she walked back, brushing the dust from her hands. "Not a single match. No flint either."
Irina sighed and tied the sack shut.
"Figures," she muttered. "We'll have to keep looking somewhere else."
By the time they made it back, the sack over Irina's shoulder was heavy enough to make her arm ache. She could already picture the others' faces when they saw what they had found. Instead, the first thing she noticed was Svetlana calmly striking a match. The tiny flame flared to life before she lit an expensive Kazbek cigarette, shielding it from the breeze with her hand.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Katerina snapped. "You somehow managed to save your fancy cigarettes when the ship went down, but not anything useful?"
Before Svetlana could answer, Irina raised a hand.
"Enough. She's got matches and that's all I care about right now. We finally have a way to make a fire."
Svetlana exhaled a slow stream of smoke and glanced at the small matchbox in her hand.
"I have six matches left," she said flatly. "And I'm not giving a single one to anyone."
"Would you rather stay stranded here forever than spare a single match?" Irina asked, keeping her voice calm. "Because unless you plan on eating raw rice and dried fish for the rest of your life, we're going to need a fire."
Svetlana rolled her eyes and took another drag from her cigarette.
"That's your problem, not mine," she said. "I'm on a diet anyway."
She flicked the ash onto the ground and walked off without another word. Katerina watched her go, crossing her arms over her chest and visibly fuming.
"Selfish bitch," she muttered. "One day she's going to need something from us, and I swear..."
Ruslana was the first to notice the sack slung over Irina's shoulder. She nudged Sasha, and the two hurried over, their faces lighting up with hope.
"You found something?" Sasha asked, unable to hide her excitement.
"We've been stuck watching the little ones all morning," Ruslana added. "They're exhausted, we're starving, and all we've managed to do is keep them from wandering into the forest."
Irina set the sack down and untied it. The smell of bread immediately caught their attention. One by one, she pulled out the loaf, the dried fish, the jar of preserved vegetables, and the bag of rice. For a moment, neither Ruslana nor Sasha said a word.
"...Where the hell did you find all this?" Ruslana asked, staring at the food as if she expected it to just be a mirage.
Irina quickly told them about the patch of sand, the hidden trapdoor beneath it, and the basement packed with barrels and crates.
"It looks like some kind of secret trading depot," Irina said. "Ships must still come in during the war. One unloads imported goods, another picks them up later and leaves the payment behind. Nobody ever meets face to face."
"We could actually survive with what's down there, if one arrogant cow wasn't sitting on the only way to cook it. She has six matches left," Katerina went on, throwing her hands up and intensely glaring at Svetlana from the distance. "Six. And she won't spare us a single one. Not one fucking match."
Ruslana frowned.
"...Wait. Svetlana has cigarettes?"
Katerina blinked.
"Did you even hear a word I just said?"
"No, I did, but... cigarettes?" Ruslana asked, already looking around the camp. "What kind?"
"Kazbek."
Ruslana let out a quiet groan.
"Oh, for fuck's sake..."
Sasha cut in before anyone else could speak.
"Can't we just steal one? One match is all we need."
Irina hesitated. For the first time that day, she looked genuinely unsure. She fiddled with the edge of her red skirt, thinking it over.
"I don't know," she admitted. "Not yet."
She looked toward the trees, then back at the others.
"But I'll figure something out before sunset."
The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Nastya and Valeriya this time. The tall, impossibly skinny blonde twins walked over side by side with the same steady pace. Both had the same sharp features and pale eyes that gave them the uncanny look of Siamese cats. Only their hair set them apart. Nastya's fell to her shoulders, while Valeriya's reached her waist.
"No ships," Nastya reported. "No planes either."
"Nothing," Valeriya added. "Not even another island."
A brief silence settled over the group. Then Sasha pointed at the sack lying at Irina's feet.
"They found a hidden basement full of food."
The twins' expressions changed instantly.
"You're serious?" Nastya asked.
Irina nodded.
"Barrels of wine, crates of dried food, rice, spices, preserved vegetables... enough to keep us alive for a while."
Valeriya let out a relieved laugh.
"That's the first good news we've had all day."
"We should gather firewood." Valeriya suggested. "And some big rocks too, just in case. We can't let the fire burn down half the island."
"Good idea," Irina said. "Let's not waste any more daylight. Everyone who isn't watching the little ones should start collecting dry branches and stones with us."
But before anyone could move, Nastya cleared her throat.
"Fire is important," she said, "but we're sleeping on the ground if we don't do something. We need shelters before sunset."
The group fell quiet for a moment before several heads nodded.
"She's right," Sasha said. "If it rains, we're done for."
Irina looked around at the others and gave a short nod.
"Then we'll do both."
Valeriya was already thinking ahead.
"Katerina, Ruslana come with me. We'll gather long branches and anything sturdy enough for a frame."
Her friends nodded without a word, then her sister stepped foward.
"I'll find some of the others," Nastya continued. "Someone has to know how to build a proper shelter."
Within moments, the group scattered across the clearing again. Some disappeared into the trees in search of suitable branches, while Nastya and Sasha headed toward the girls watching the younger children, hoping at least one of them had an idea how to put together a roof before nightfall.
Just as Ruslana turned to leave, Irina stopped her once more, grabbing her by her wrist.
"One more thing."
Ruslana looked back.
"Tell the kids it's a game," Irina said quietly. "Whoever manages to take Svetlana's matches without her noticing wins."
Ruslana raised an eyebrow.
"And if they ask what they win?"
Irina frowned, her eyes squinting.
"I don't know, the game?" she said sarcastically. "I mean they are just kids. They don't care. Just tell them that the first one to bring it to you or me is the winner. Don't overcomplicate it, please. Now go."
"Fine." Ruslana replied with a sigh and walked off.
The fireplace came together surprisingly quickly. Within the hour, a shallow pit had been cleared, surrounded by a ring of heavy stones that would keep the flames from spreading across the dry forest floor. Nearby, neat piles of kindling and thicker branches had begun to grow as more girls returned from the woods with armfuls of wood.
The shelters were another story. Irina, Sasha, Nastya, and several of the older girls had spent the same hour dragging over long branches, leaning them against tree trunks, and trying half a dozen different arrangements. Every idea looked promising for a few minutes before collapsing under its own weight or revealing another problem. They had no rope, no nails, no axe, not even enough sturdy branches to build a proper frame. The few vines they found snapped as soon as they were pulled tight, and the piles of leaves they had gathered for roofing scattered with the slightest breeze.
Nastya stepped back from yet another lopsided structure, rubbing dirt from her hands onto her skirt. It looked less like a shelter and more like a heap of sticks that had simply fallen together by accident.
"Oh, for fuck's sake..." she muttered, staring at it.
A dry laugh drifted across the clearing. Svetlana had been sitting in the shade the entire time, one leg crossed over the other, lazily brushing dirt from her skirt as she watched another half-built shelter collapse.
"Brilliant," she said with a smirk. "At this rate, you'll have a palace finished by winter. Maybe try stacking the sticks upside down next time."
Nobody answered, so she let out another quiet laugh. Nastya slowly straightened up. She didn't raise her voice. She simply looked at Svetlana until the smile began to fade from her face.
"You've been sitting there all day," Nastya said. "You haven't carried a single branch, lifted a single stone, or watched the little ones for even five minutes. If you're not going to help, at least stop getting in everyone's way."
Svetlana shrugged as if the criticism meant nothing.
"I don't feel like catching a tan."
"Bitch..." Dasha, a younger, dark haired girl muttered the insult under her breath. However, Svetlana's mood was still not affected at all. Or at least not visibly.
Another bundle of branches slid apart, sending the half-finished shelter folding in on itself. A few frustrated groans followed. Svetlana watched the whole thing from where she was sitting, saying nothing for a while. Then, so quietly that only the girls closest to her could hear, she spoke without even looking up.
"You're trying to make the walls hold the roof."
No one answered. She flicked a speck of dirt from her sleeve.
"Build the roof first."
That finally caught their attention. She sighed, as though explaining something painfully obvious.
"Find two trees close together. Lay one long branch between them as a ridge beam. Wedge it into the forks where the trunks split, or carve shallow notches if you have to. Then lean the rest of the branches against both sides of it. The weight locks them together. You don't need rope if gravity does the work for you."
The clearing fell silent. It was so simple that none of them had even considered it. Nastya exchanged a doubtful look with Irina before dragging one of the longer poles between two nearby trees. They balanced it across a pair of low forks exactly as Svetlana had described, then leaned branch after branch against it. Nothing slipped. Within minutes they had the outline of a sturdy lean-to, stronger than anything they had managed in the last hour. Nastya stood back and looked over the finished frame and glanced toward Svetlana.
"...Thanks," she said after a brief hesitation.
Svetlana gave a careless shrug, as though it had hardly been worth mentioning. Then she reached into the pocket of her cardigan out of habit, expecting to feel the familiar cigarette case. Her fingers found it, but when she reached for the small matchbox that was always tucked beside it, there was nothing. Her expression changed. She checked the other pocket. Then the inside of her coat. Then the cigarette case itself. Nothing. Slowly, she looked up. Her eyes settled on the girls but especially Irina.
"You've got some fucking nerve," she said, her voice suddenly cold. "Which one of you stole my matches?"
Before anyone could answer, Svetlana stormed toward the newly finished shelter. With a furious kick, she drove one of the supporting branches out of place. The ridge beam slipped free, and the carefully arranged frame collapsed into a pile of branches.
"There," she snapped. "Should've kept my mouth shut and let you idiots figure it out yourselves."
She shoved another branch aside with her boot, breathing hard, her face flushed with anger. Irina crossed the clearing in a few quick strides and caught Svetlana by both forearms before she could tear apart what was left. She held on firmly, stopping her from lashing out again.
"Enough."
Svetlana tried to pull free, but Irina didn't let go.
"I'll give it back, I promise." Irina said, meeting her eyes without raising her voice. "Once we light the fire."
For a long moment, Svetlana stood perfectly still, her breathing uneven as she stared back at Irina. Then, with a sharp jerk, she tore herself free.
"To hell with all of you."
She shot one last glare around the clearing, her eyes lingering on the collapsed shelter before she turned away.
"You can starve, freeze, or burn for all I care."
She spun on her heel and marched straight toward the forest. Branches whipped against her sleeves as she forced her way through the undergrowth, still muttering curses that grew fainter with every step until they disappeared into the trees.
Irina watched the spot where she'd vanished. The sun had already begun to sink behind the treetops, casting long shadows across the ground. There were still a few hours of daylight left, but not many. Once darkness settled over the island, finding someone in the forest would become nearly impossible.
Before long, another sound pulled everyone's attention away from the forest. A thin ribbon of gray smoke curled above the trees a short distance from the clearing. It rose slowly into the still evening air before the breeze carried it toward them. A second later came the unmistakable crackle of burning wood, followed by a burst of excited cheering. Several girls abandoned the half-rebuilt shelter at once, brushing splinters and dirt from their hands. Even Nastya, who had been studying the collapsed frame with a determined frown, let out a tired sigh and stepped back.
"Come on," she said. "Five minutes won't kill us."
No one argued. Their shoulders ached, their hands were scraped raw, and the smell of smoke promised warmth for the first time since the ship had gone down. One by one, the builders drifted toward the cheers, eager to see the fire that had finally come to life.
By the time they reached the fireplace, the flames had grown steady. They crackled softly between the ring of stones, licking at the dry branches. A neat stack of firewood sat beside it, almost as tall as Ruslana's waist.
"There you are," Ruslana said, unable to hide her grin. "Told you we'd manage."
Katerina was crouched beside the fire, nudging a burning branch farther into the center with a long stick. She looked up with a smug smile.
"And before you ask. Yes, we collected extra wood. Enough to keep it going for hours if we're careful."
Valeriya folded her arms, looking rather pleased with the growing pile. "No point in stealing Svetlana's matches if we're just going to let it die."
For the first time all day, a few of the girls allowed themselves to relax. The warmth on their faces and the smell of burning wood made the island seem just a little less hostile. Irina's expression, however, remained distant.
"Svetlana's gone," she said quietly. "She stormed off into the forest."
The smiles faded. Valeriya watched the flames for a moment before speaking.
"She can act like she doesn't need anyone, but she's not stupid. Night's coming, and in there she's alone. Out here..." She glanced around the circle of girls gathered by the fire. "...she has us, whether she likes it or not."
Katerina snorted and tossed another branch onto the fire. A shower of sparks drifted upward before disappearing into the darkening sky.
"She can stay out there for all I care," she muttered. "If she wants to play mysterious and disappear into the woods, that's her fucking problem."
A few girls exchanged uneasy glances, but no one agreed out loud. Irina stared into the flames for a moment, the orange light flickering across her face. She let out a slow breath. Arguing about Svetlana wouldn't bring her back, and it certainly wouldn't solve the more immediate problem pressing on all of them.
"...All right," she said at last, lifting her eyes from the fire. She glanced toward the sack they had carried back from the hidden basement earlier. "Does anyone actually know what we're making for dinner?"
Sasha leaned over the sack and began sorting through its contents with practiced hands. She picked up one of the bundles of dried fish, turning it over before setting it beside the loaf of bread.
"The fish is already cured, and the bread's fine as it is." she said, then reached for the small sack of rice and weighed it in her hand.
"But if we want this..." She looked toward the metal container from the basement which they had been using to haul fresh water from the pond all day. "...that's going to have to be our pot and hang it over the fire somehow."
The group followed her gaze. The dented metal container wasn't much, but it was the only thing they had that could survive the flames. If they were going to spend another night stranded on the island, they might as well eat properly for once.
The rice was poured into the battered metal container with fresh water from the pond and balanced carefully above the fire on a pair of thick green branches. It took far longer than any of them expected to come to a boil, but eventually the gentle bubbling was coming to life. Katerina disappeared into the forest for a few minutes and returned with another handful of the same herb she had stumbled across earlier that day. After picking through the crates in the basement, they had found that many of the imported spices had attracted insects during storage, so they left them alone and relied on the fresh herbs instead. She tore the leaves between her fingers and sprinkled them into the rice, filling the clearing with a clean, earthy scent. The tea leaves from the basement went into the hot water next. The brew was weak, but after the day's exhaustion, even its faint aroma felt comforting.
While the food finished cooking, the others found another use for the coconuts scattered along the beach. The shells were cleaned, rinsed, and turned into crude bowls, each one a little different from the next. By the time the sun had sunk behind the treeline, the girls were gathered around the fire with warm rice, slices of dried fish, pieces of bread, hot tea, and coconut-shell bowls balanced on their knees. It was a strange meal, thrown together from whatever chance had placed in their path. Every now and then, though, someone's eyes drifted toward the dark wall of trees beyond the glow of the flames. Svetlana still hadn't come back. The last traces of daylight had disappeared, leaving the forest as little more than a mass of black silhouettes. Whatever lay beyond the first few trees was swallowed by darkness. Luiza glanced in that direction again before speaking, almost reluctantly.
"...Should we go look for her?"
The suggestion hung in the air for a heartbeat. Katerina looked up from her food.
"Absolutely fucking not."
Her answer came so harshly that it startled a few of the younger girls.
"Nobody chased her out there. If we start wandering around in the dark because Madame Kazbek threw a fit, we'll end up with two dozen people lost instead of one. We've spent the whole day trying not to die. I'm not risking everyone's neck because she decided to be dramatic."
A few snickers rippled around the fire despite the tension. Someone covered her mouth to hide a laugh, and even Sasha let out a quiet chuckle. Ruslana shook her head, smiling into her tea.
"Leave the cigarettes out of it," she said. "There's nothing wrong with smoking."
Katerina shot her a flat look.
"Since when do you defend Svetlana?"
"Since I haven't had a cigarette in two days," Ruslana replied without missing a beat. "At this point I'd probably thank Svetlana before stealing one. Unlike her matches."
That earned a louder laugh from the circle. For a moment, the weight hanging over the camp eased. The fire burned warmly between them, bowls were passed around for second helpings, and the conversation drifted away from arguments and missing matches. Even so, every now and then, someone's eyes wandered back toward the black forest beyond the firelight, where the silence remained undisturbed.
However, suddenly a scream ripped through the forest. Not a startled cry or someone calling for help, but a raw, desperate scream that tore at the silence until it cracked. It echoed between the trees, broke for a heartbeat into ragged sobbing, then rose again, shriller this time.
The laughter died so abruptly it was as if someone had smothered it. The sound froze every girl where she sat. Even the fire seemed to shrink.
Irina was on her feet before she realized she had moved, her bowl hitting the ground and spilling into the dirt. Ruslana reacted just as quickly, snatching up a burning branch from the fire to use as a torch. The twins hesitated for only a heartbeat before following, Sasha close behind them, with Luiza forcing herself to move despite the fear written all over her face. The six of them broke into a run, disappearing into the darkness beneath the trees without another word. Behind them, Katerina remained rooted to the spot for a single, stubborn second.
"Oh, fuck me."
She swore under her breath, grabbed the thickest burning branch she could find, and sprinted after the others.
The first six girls found her by following the noise. Branches snapped somewhere ahead, followed by frantic rustling and another strangled cry. Irina burst through a wall of undergrowth into a small clearing and came to a dead stop. Svetlana was on the ground, desperately trying to shield herself as a wild boar lunged at her again. Its tusks slashed through the dirt inches from her, forcing her to scramble backward on her elbows. Her cardigan was torn, her hands scraped raw from clawing at the ground.
"Svetlana!"
Irina shouted instinctively, waving her arms at the girl. Ruslana swung her burning branch toward the boar, sending sparks into the air. Sasha and the twins grabbed fallen limbs and yelled, hoping the noise would drive the animal away, but it barely hesitated. The boar wheeled around, snorting, its hooves digging into the earth before it feinted toward Irina. Everyone stumbled back. Luiza screamed. Another branch struck the animal's shoulder, but it only made it angrier, charging a few steps before turning its attention back to Svetlana. For one awful moment, nobody knew what to do next. Then Katerina burst into the clearing. She took in the scene in a single glance. Without slowing, she pulled a small folding pocketknife from inside her socks (a knife none of the others had ever seen her carry before) and rushed in from the side. Before the boar could turn, she drove the blade into its flank. The animal let out a furious squeal and lurched away from her. It wasn't a deep wound, but it was enough to shock it. The boar stumbled, shook its head violently, then bolted into the darkness, crashing through the undergrowth until the sound of breaking branches faded into the forest. Only then did the clearing fall silent again.
Svetlana remained where she was, one hand pressed against the rough bark of a tree as she fought to steady her breathing. Her knees trembled so badly that she almost collapsed again before forcing herself upright. Dirt clung to her clothes, a sleeve had been torn open, and a thin line of blood ran across the back of one hand where the boar had caught her.
Katerina quietly folded the pocketknife shut and slipped it back into her sock (right after wiping the blood off on her skirt) as though nothing unusual had happened. Only then did Svetlana look at her. The anger that had burned in her eyes all afternoon was gone. In its place was something far less familiar. She opened her mouth once, then closed it. Whatever sharp remark would normally have come so easily simply wasn't there. She knew exactly who had saved her from that boar. The realization sat heavily on her face. Shame for every cruel word she'd thrown at them since the shipwreck, and gratitude she couldn't quite force past her pride.
Katerina held Svetlana's gaze for only a moment before looking away. A faint, contemptuous scoff escaped her as she adjusted her blouse.
"Don't get used to it." she muttered.
There was no warmth in her voice, but there was no hatred either. She simply stepped past Svetlana and started back toward the camp, as if saving her had been an inconvenience rather than an act of courage. Svetlana watched her disappear between the trees. Her throat tightened, but she remained silent, following a few steps behind with her head lowered.
By the time they returned to the camp, the fire had burned down to a bed of glowing embers. The remains of dinner sat in coconut shells scattered around the circle, and several of the younger girls had already curled up against one another, asleep almost as soon as their heads touched the ground.
Svetlana never thanked Irina. She never thanked Katerina. Nor anyone else. Not that night, nor in the days that followed. The words simply never came. But something about her changed after the incident. Without making a point of it, she started helping wherever she was needed. She hauled branches without being asked, carried water from the pond, watched the younger children when Ruslana needed a break, and never complained about the work. When someone struggled with a task, she quietly stepped in instead of standing back with a bitchy remark. Whenever Ruslana's eyes lingered a little too long on her pack of cigarettes, Svetlana would sigh, tap one loose, and hold it out without a word. The silent arrangement continued until the last Kazbek was gone, the empty case disappearing into her pocket for good.
And the next two days settled into a rhythm too. Every morning began with someone fetching water while another group rekindled the fire from the previous night's embers. The shelters slowly took shape, becoming sturdier with each improvement. They took only what they needed from the hidden basement, careful not to empty it too quickly, and every evening they returned to the fire with bowls of rice, bread, smoked fish, and whatever edible plants Katerina managed to identify in the forest. Arguments still happened, of course. Too many frightened, exhausted people had been thrown together for peace to last forever. But they ended as quickly as they began.
Then, on the morning of the third day, the island shook. A deafening boom rolled across the forest, so deep it seemed to come from beneath the ground itself. Birds exploded from the treetops in great black clouds, screaming as they scattered into the sky. A heartbeat later came another sound. A long, metallic groan that echoed over the island before ending in a thunderous crash...
To be continued...