tombombodil wrote:"Would it be helpful to light some superfluous clothing and create a small signal fire? Afterall, smoke is usually the most important part."
He gestures to the tattered jacket he has had tucked into his pants for the vast majority of the trip.
Emma looks wanly at Enny. "A noble gesture, and frankly in the shape it is in, your jacket is good for little else. However, I suggest holding off until we know if someone is looking." She lapses into silence, then, the wound in her side obviously troubling her more than she is willing to admit.
As Brady minsters to Jinda, a flare is sent up. It burns red in the darkening sky, hanging for a moment and then slowly sinking into obscurity. Pope fires a round to follow it, continuing to do so at five minute intervals. Slowly but surely his supply of bullets dwindles, as do the hopes of the party.
Down in the water, the miraculous craft begins to slowly descend as well. After Brady left, it remained above all but the highest swells, but each time the water strikes its hull, it has lost some of its tenacity. It now is at the level of the ocean, and every few minutes, another wave dashes water over its gunnel.
In the distance back from whence you came, the horizon glows with a dull orangey-red that has nothing to do with sunsets, as the volcano doubtless continues its activity.
As if in answer, from the opposite direction, a far brighter and more compact light interrupts the gloom. It is distant, but unmistakable:A flare!