The raft groaned beneath them, water sloshing around their ankles where the rubber had been punctured by debris. The sky above was a cruel, clear blue—not a single cloud to offer shade from the relentless sun.

His jaw was set. Braces glinted as he bit down on his own frustration.

And then the current shifted. The water around them changed—went from that endless deep blue to something brighter, lighter. Sand.

Jake raised his head, squinting against the sun. For the first time in hours, something flickered across his face. Not hope, exactly. But close.

The island.

The raft shuddered again, another tear splitting open at the seam. Jake pressed his palm against it, cursing under his breath.