The smoke had mostly faded.
But the silence after the chaos… was worse.
Everyone was scattered—some crouched on the sand, some lying flat, others pacing without purpose. Survivors tried to form rough clusters, dragging salvaged bags or twisted seat cushions, anything to sit on, anything that made them feel less exposed.
Arjun wiped soot from his forehead and looked around.
He saw a woman sobbing beside the burned-out wing, cradling a locket against her chest, whispering the name of someone who didn't survive.
Two men sat shoulder to shoulder in silence, one holding the other's hand like he was afraid to let go.
Someone else was screaming—not words, just pain. Someone who had lost a child. Or a wife. Or maybe both.
Maya leaned forward, holding her ribs. Her breathing was shallow but steady.Arjun knelt in front of her and took off the outer half of his shirt, tearing a strip from the edge with his teeth. Carefully, he folded it and pressed it gently against the cut on her forehead, where blood had matted into her hair.
"You should've been a nurse," she whispered.
"I look terrible in white," he murmured.
He tied the knot carefully, checking her face. "Better?"
"Not bad," she said. "Gentle for a guy who bench-presses fridges."
He gave a weak smile, but it faded fast.
Arjun stood, hands on hips, and looked at the sky.
"God," he muttered. "Listen. Buddy. Friend. Sir. Whoever's running the show."
Maya looked up, curious.
Arjun pointed a finger at the sky like he was talking to a lazy landlord. "I get it. Life has... ups and downs. But this? This is not a down. This is an uninstall-the-game level event."
A few people glanced at him. Someone chuckled.
"I mean seriously," Arjun continued, voice rising. "We were on a plane. We were eating pudding! And now we're in JungleCastawayIsland.exe with no GPS and one working shoe?"
Maya put a hand on his arm. "You're blabbering."
"I know."
She squeezed. "Keep going. It's helping."
Arjun took a deep breath. "This all happened in seconds. One moment I'm adjusting my seatbelt, next thing I'm digging someone out from under a flaming food cart."
He turned and looked at the broken group of survivors—some sitting in circles, some trying to clean wounds with bottled water and ripped shirts.
He started counting.
"…One, two, three... fifteen... twenty-three..." He squinted.
Before he got far, a voice cut across the beach, loud and commanding:
"Everyone! Gather up! I'm taking charge here!"
Heads turned.
A broad-chested man with buzzed hair and a holstered pistol strapped to his thigh marched forward. His uniform shirt was half-burnt, but the badge was still visible: Indian Police – INSPECTOR- N. RANA.
He walked like he owned the whole shoreline.
"This is an emergency. We follow order, or we all die here," he barked. "I am armed, trained, and I'm not here to discuss."
A few people nodded, even looked relieved. Someone said, "Thank god someone official survived."
"Anyone injured, sit there," he pointed. "Anyone who can move, help gather supplies. I want food, water, and everything useful in one pile."
He kept talking like it was a boot camp.
Maya leaned close to Arjun and whispered, just loud enough: "Wow. Look at Officer Alpha Male go. Probably dreamed of this moment since he was twelve."
Arjun chuckled under his breath.
Unfortunately—Rana heard it.
He turned sharply, nostrils flaring. His boots stomped toward them in the sand.
"You said something, madam?"
Maya shrugged. "Not really. Just admiring your leadership skills."
His eyes narrowed. "I don't tolerate sarcasm in crisis. This is how chaos spreads."
Then he took a threatening step closer and reached toward her neck like he was about to shove her back.
"Hey," Arjun said sharply, stepping between them. "Excuse me, sir."
Rana paused.
Arjun didn't raise his voice. He didn't puff up his chest.
He just stood still, solid, calm, and—visibly—capable of snapping the inspector in half if it came to that.
"I'm the one who's with her," Arjun said evenly. "You got a problem, say it to me."
Rana glanced at Arjun's arms, his broad stance, the thin smile that wasn't a smile.
He sneered. "Make your girl keep quiet."
Then he turned and walked off, muttering under his breath.
Maya leaned close again and whispered, "Did you just alpha the alpha?"
"I call it neutralizing unnecessary barking."
As the sun dropped lower, orange light painted the sand in long, quiet streaks.
Someone finally found a half-burned first aid box, and it became a war zone. People yelled, fought, shoved for bandages and antiseptic.
Rana had to fire a warning shot into the sky to calm them down.
Night began to fall.
The ocean turned dark. The forest behind them whispered nothing.
Rana stood near the center of camp and shouted over the crackling of a small fire someone had started.
"No use panicking. No signal. No idea where we are. No rescue yet. We rest here. Sleep close. We organize more tomorrow."
No one objected.
They were too tired.
Too raw.
Too broken to argue.
Maya lay down first.
She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to get comfortable on a curve of sand.
Her eyes drifted half shut.
"A pillow would've been nice…"
She hadn't said it out loud—but somehow, Arjun knew.
He quietly lay beside her, resting on his back. Then he extended his arm flat under her head, palm open, shoulder stiff.
Maya blinked. Then smiled.
She turned gently, curled into him, resting her head on his arm. One hand wrapped lightly over his chest, pulling in close.
"I owe you a hundred cuddles for that," she whispered.
"You can pay me back in real food when we get off this beach."
She chuckled once, tired and soft.
The fire cracked.
The waves rolled in.
Behind them, the jungle slept.
And the sky above kept watching.