Crimson Rapture by Jennifer Horsman

while trees almost hidden in vines and ferns grew on all other sides.
    "
'Tis paradise, like... like 'eaven," Hanna whispered, afraid to break the
sanctity around them.
    "Yes,"
Christina whispered too. "Like the original Garden of Eden."
    They
had passed fallen trees, torn vines, and ferns on their way, and debris floated
in the pool, but even the fierceness of the storm could not destroy the
prolific garden life on the island.
    Elsie,
too afraid of water, remained on the bank but Hanna and Christina removed their
clothes and stepped cautiously into the shallow pool. "Oh, it feels so good."
Christina smiled, lowering, then disappearing beneath the surface to wash away
the sticky saltiness on her skin and hair. Hanna followed bravely while Elsie
watched on nervously, contenting herself to remain on the safe shore of the
bank and merely splashed water on her skin.
    The
quick bath was invigorating and, once out, Christina quickly struggled back
into her chemise. There was nothing to dry off on and thin material clung to
her wet frame like an extra layer of skin. She wrung out her wet mat of hair,
twisted it tightly as possible into a knot on her head, and secured it with a
small twig. It fell loose with her first movement. She gave up.
    Many
things occurred to her as once. They had no comb or brush—surely she would have
to cut her hair—but that was hardly the extent of the things they would live
without. There were no pots, pans, baskets, or buckets, no tools of any kind,
save for the men's swords and knives—no shelter, clothes, medicine, or even
bandages and, as her stomach reminded her, no food either.
    They
would be like savages. Four women and almost twenty men. The ratio gave her a
moment's fear, for instinctively she knew it bode ill. What was it her father
used to say... "Man is separated from his savage roots only by a thin veil
of civilization..."
    Was
it not civilization that protected women?
    Yes
and now there was no civilization.
    Elsie
and Hanna were each lost to their own musings and Christina, on her hands and
knees, stared intently into the dark pool of water, suddenly seeing an unpleasant
future.
    Justin
wanted her as a man wants his wife. She was helpless to stop him. How could she
fight such a man? How could she fight a man who owned the strength to break a
man's legs, to fight dozens of equally strong and able-bodied men? A man who tossed
her hundred or so pounds over his shoulder as though she were but a feather
pillow. A man who led hundreds of hardened men already living by the savage
rule of might?
    No,
she could not fight him. When he held her she very nearly swooned by the strength
radiating from his tall frame, the power in his muscled arms, that warmth of
his. And even if she had equal physical strength, she would lose the battle
with him. The sheer force of his will would overwhelm the most formidable
opponent...
    Oh,
she hated her helplessness! She was a pathetic creature indeed, too timid to
raise her voice yet alone her fists. Not that any action would prove anything
but futile pitted against him. How she would love, though, to tell him what she
thought of him. She had fallen in love with him, she knew, but only a small
part of a much larger picture. The real Justin was forceful, cruel and—
    "Mean!"
she said out loud, suddenly slamming her fists into the water.
    Elsie
and Hanna exchanged confused glances. "Christy?" Hanna asked.
    Christina
looked at her two friends, both startled by her outburst. The haunting sounds
of the jungle seemed to dim, sounding like an eerie echo and nothing but
nothing stirred. Apprehension caused fear and her fear looked for a concrete
source that wasn't there. Alerted, Christina looked past them and stared into
the forest beyond. It was not real, yet real, and she imagined she could see
him. Elsie and Hanna turned around too and stared, feeling the exact same
thing. A ghost was watching them from the forest.
    "Who's
there?" Elsie asked after a frightened