When Chris woke up, even before his eyes opened, intense sunlight jabbed through his lids like burning needles. He groaned and turned his face the other way, but the light and heat were relentless. With one hand, which he could barely lift, he groped for his bedcovers, his pillow, anything to help shield him.

There was nothing.

Nothing but open space around him and soft sand beneath him.

Sand?

Now Chris’s eyes snapped wide open, granting full access to his surroundings.

He was, indeed, sprawled across a mass of white, powder-fine sand. Some of it clung to his arms and to his face when he lifted his head a bit. Where did all of this sand come from? Where did the swirling ocean behind him come from?

Where did he come from?

All at once, like water that had found a hole in a dam, memories of the previous night came rushing back. While Chris couldn’t quite pin all the details, he definitely recalled a private plane.

A well-deserved vacation in Europe with his four band mates.  

Something wrong with their pilot.

The grim understanding that they were headed for dire trouble.

The sheer terror of falling.

The big plunge.

The desperate escape from the rapidly sinking craft.

Swimming like his life depended on it—and it had.

While Chris was an excellent swimmer, he had hardly been a match for the monstrous waves intent on devouring him. No doubt it was through the good grace of God that he was alive now.

Now that the man’s senses were kicking in once more, he became aware that every inch of his body ached like anything and must have doubled, even tripled in heaviness. His head by itself was a solid lead weight.

He tried to get to his feet, which proved a mistake; he crumpled back to the sand in two seconds. With his forehead bowed against his forearm, he closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, and very slowly pushed himself to a kneeling position. In this way, he could take better stock of the environment while he rested, though he was compelled to shade his eyes.

Above him, the sun blazed white-hot in an almost cloudless sky. Behind him, the ocean spread in every direction like a blue-green mantle for as far as he could see. Ahead of him, aside from the pristine sands, loomed a labyrinth of exotic trees and foliage along with a series of ragged cliffs. The sights jolted Chris like an electric shock. His breath caught somewhere in his throat, and he would have sworn his heart ceased its beating altogether.

Inwardly, he screamed, Where am I? What is this place? How am I to get back home? Where are the other guys?

This last thought only added to his heart-stopping horror and soul-rending despair. If he could consider anything worse than dying or being left high and dry in the middle of God knew where, losing his music partners and soul brothers scored the prize.

Fighting down the sick sensation that threatened to engulf him, Chris scanned the beach on both sides. A few yards away on his left, he could make out at least one prone figure in the sand. With hope and apprehension churning together, he made a second attempt to stand, then thought better of it and resorted to crawling instead. While most of his strength was sapped, he managed to move along fairly quickly.

As soon as he was there, he recognized the other person before he saw the face.

“Justin!”

Roughly, he seized Justin by the shoulders and flipped him over. Justin made no response when Chris cried out to him in a desperate voice. His eyes remained closed, his face was a dangerous shade of blue, and his whole body rested in the sand like a sodden rag. When Chris touched the side of Justin’s neck, however, there was still a pulse, albeit a very weak one.

Chris did not hesitate a second. Bending low over his companion, he proceeded to administer artificial respiration.

It took longer than he expected, and he was beginning to fear the worst by the time Justin stirred at last. With a violent heave, the younger man coughed up a noteworthy amount of seawater. Chris helped to prop him a little more upright and gently slapped his back. It was a long time before all the water was gone, and even then, Justin continued to cough and gasp in uneven tatters, as if he would never breathe properly again.

Too overcome to speak, at least at first, Chris closed his eyes and held his mate in the tightest hug he could manage, ignoring the screaming protests of his own body.

“Chris?” Justin murmured faintly, somewhat surprised to find himself in his companion’s arms like this.

“I’m here, Justin.” Tears were streaming down Chris’s face, but he made no bother to hide them or curb the flow.

“Wh-what…what happened? Where am I?” Justin craned his neck as he took in the alien scenery. “What’s with all the sand and sun? How did we get here?”

Easing his hold just a little, enough to make proper eye contact, Chris answered with a question of his own. “Don’t you remember?”

Justin blinked a few times, his expression befuddled. Then his blue eyes widened to several times their size, his face paled, and Chris knew last night’s tragedy and terror were coming back to him, too. When Justin found his voice again, he could barely get out, “H-how did we survive?”

“I don’t know,” said Chris, shaking his head. “Either by luck or by divine mercy—or both.” He paused, then added gravely, “For a moment, I was afraid you hadn’t made it. Thank the dear Lord I found you when I did and knew just what to do.”

“You saved me?” Justin stared in awe.

“Yes. You must have inhaled half the ocean.”  

“You actually did mouth-to-mouth on me?”

“Sure did.” A half-smile played on Chris’s lips. “Never dreamed I’d have to perform something like that on you, but you do what you’ve got to do.” In another minute, he asked, “Do you think you can walk?”

“I don’t think I can even stand.”

“Here,” said Chris, taking Justin’s right arm and pulling it around his own shoulders, “we’ll do this together. You lean on me, and I’ll lean on you. We’ll take it nice and easy. After all,” he added wryly, “it’s not as though we’re in any hurry.”

He wrapped his free arm around Justin’s waist, and at the count of three, Justin tried to rise with him.

It took almost six attempts; even after they were both on their feet at last, their legs shook precariously, their muscles throbbed and burned, and the vertigo was terrible. Chris had to close his eyes for another minute and Justin clung to Chris’s shirt like a lifeline.

“Stay with me, Chris,” Justin rasped as the twosome began to hobble along the shoreline. “Stay very, very close. Every minute.”

Chris whispered back, “As of here and now, J, you are never leaving my sight again.”