Fruit

The world was dying--not in fire or flood, but in silence.

A decade ago, the great powers turned inward, consumed by paranoia and populism. Democracies crumbled beneath booted heels. Borders closed, and with them, the last hopes of the powerless. The far right had claimed most of the Earth like a wildfire claiming dry brush--fast, brutal, and absolute. But in the cracks of its empire, resistance bloomed. Red flags sewn in secret, whispered oaths passed between the desperate.

Miles had lived in those cracks since he was fifteen.

Now twenty-five, he was one of the last free men--a survivalist, a ghost, a soldier forged in the shadows. He sat in the cramped belly of the aging aircraft, eyes scanning the rust-stained interior. Next to him, a woman clutched her hands nervously in her lap.

Kadi.

They had made brief, polite introductions upon taking their seats but hadn't engaged since.

She looked like she belonged at a poetry reading, not on a barely working aircraft fleeing for her life. Petite, graceful, with dirty blonde hair curling around her collar and wide eyes that hadn't yet dulled from hardship. She'd given food and shelter to the wrong people, believed in a kinder world. Thats all it had taken for her to be deemed dangerous and added to their lists.

He counted there were 14 other passengers in his field of vision. A few weary men in worn fatigues, tired of fighting. Women, still in fashionable clothing from the before times, no doubt the wives of killed or missing resistance fighters. Soft, delicate women, who would be no use on the battlefield. Women With nowhere else to go. The story goes that these women are well looked after where they were going.

The hum of the engines masked their whispered prayers, coughs, and nerves. Almost nobody spoke to each other.

"Thirty minutes out," came the pilot's voice through a crackling speaker.

They were bound for a place known only as The Island, a mythical safe haven, an island said to be untouched by war or surveillance. If the legends were true, it was a socialist paradise. A refuge for those who had nowhere else to go.

The engine sputtered.

The plane lurched.

Miles didn't scream when it went down. Training overrode panic. He grabbed Kadi, braced them both. Metal shrieked. Fire flashed. Then black.

They awoke in a different world.

Blue sky. White sand. The sea was impossibly clear. Debris scattered the beach. Miles, still belted in his seat in a torn to pieces section of fuselage next to Kadi, looked around for other survivors.

Suddenly a huge mountain of a man, with a very bald head and a very thick beard, hauled himself up from the surf and shook like a bear. "Everyone alive?"

"Yeah two of us over here!" Shouted Miles.

The large man headed quickly towards Miles and Kadi. "You guys got off light, barely a scratch. I'm Jonah."

"HEY, HEY DUDES!!"

The trio turned their heads toward the loud california accent. a tall, athletic figure with long Sandy blonde hair ran towards them in nothing but a pair of shorts.

"Hey, I'm Danny, I landed away aways. I'm glad I'm not alone."

He had bright eyes and an easy smile, Miles immediately liked his positive energy.

Danny helped Kadi up. She blinked around, dazed but whole. "Where are we?"

Miles scanned the treeline. "Well its AN island but hopefully not THE Island" he muttered. "No sign of buildings or infrastructure. This place is untouched."

"Untouched is better than occupied," Jonah said.

"Let's get to work" Miles decided. He knew they were stranded for a while. Any attempt to signal for rescue would likely be received by the wrong people.

They worked quickly. Miles assessed the wreck, eyes already noting what could be salvaged. Shelter came first. He outlined his idea for a shelter to Jonah and Danny and let them get to work. They were much bigger and stronger than him and he knew his skills would be better utilised in finding food.

Jonah and Danny got to work scavenging bent panels, seats, broken bulkheads. With sweat and grit, they turned part of the torn fuselage into a crude hut--reinforced with palm branches, tied with wires pulled from broken consoles. It wasn't pretty, but it would hold.

Meanwhile Kadi and Miles headed into the treeline. Miles moved like a scout--quiet, eyes scanning, knife drawn. Kadi stayed close, still shaking from the crash.

They found many coconuts, a few wild bananas--and something else.

Near a tangle of roots, a vine curled like a serpent, thick with plump violet fruit. Each one shimmered faintly in the sunlight, like glitter, pink and purple and iridescent.

Kadi crouched. "It smells sweet. Like honey and berries."

Miles frowned. "Too pretty to be safe."

She plucked one anyway. "What if it's the only thing that grows here?"

Miles knew better but before he could object Kadi was tucking in. The look on her face was pure bliss.

"This is so good you have to try it!"

He couldn't resist, it looked so good, it was almost glowing and it felt powerful to him. He couldn't quite describe it but it was calling him and it felt safe.

The flavor was indescribable, in the best way -- like summer itself distilled.

They gather as much as they can carry in their tied up shirts and head back to camp.

Back at camp, Jonah and Danny had built a fire pit from jet parts and driftwood. Next to the shelter, they'd laid out salvaged luggage to dry--bags splayed open like wounded animals. Some clothes. Toiletries. Stone packaged food. One suitcase had a solar-powered radio. Broken.

"We found fruit," Kadi announced, offering the bundle.

"Some weird lookin' fruit man" Danny remarked as hevreached for one--but stopped when Miles stumbled.

"Wait... Miles?" Kadi moved to his side.

He jerked over, arms wrapped around his abdomen. Sweat poured down his face.

"Cramps," he gasped.

He wasn't a screamer, but he screamed.

He collapsed to his knees. His skin glistened with sweat. He was trembling. His breathing turned ragged. Then, he slumped into unconsciousness.

"Get him inside," Jonah barked. Danny lifted him gently into the shelter.

They laid him on a strip of padded seat foam. Kadi wiped his face with a shirt. Jonah cracked a coconut and trickled water into his mouth. Danny cooked fish over the fire, slicing it thin with a broken knife and doing his best to feed it to the fading man.

Hours passed. Miles didn't wake.

The sun set.

Inside the shelter, miles eyes finally fluttered open.

He groaned, moving slowly--his body felt wrong. His limbs didn't ache with injury, but something deeper.

He sat up. His clothes fit strange. His shirt clung oddly at the chest. His hands seemed slimmer. His permanent stubble felt mostly gone.

Kadi leaned over him. Her eyes widened. "You're awake."

"I feel like hell," he muttered.

"I feel great!" Said Kadi "i don't know what that fruit is doing to you, but it is GIVING for me!"

She was right, she looked radiant. Hair thicker, skin glowing, eyes brighter.

Danny and Jonah stood in the doorway, looking grim.

"We're not touching that fruit," Jonah said. "Not until we know what it is."

"Good call." Said Danny and Miles in unison.

-

That night, while the others slept, mostly uncovered in the warm night, Miles crept silently from the shelter and wandered back toward the jungle. He didn't want to... but he needed to.

He wasnt walking for long, he somehow knew where to go.

The fruit glowed faintly under the moonlight. Calling to him.

He tried to resist.

He failed.

Another bite.

Another bite...

Just one more bite...

Before he knew it he was sat at the base of a tree, in a trance like state, gorging on the tastiest fruit he had ever known.

Then darkness.

-

When he woke, the world had changed.

He sat up slowly. His delicate fingers grazed soft skin. His body felt new. Different. Entirely feminine.

He had breasts. Modest but not small. Unmistakable.

He had a vagina. Soft and fairly moist.

Running his fingers over it created the most unusual feeling. A wonderful unusual feeling.

No time for that.

He stood and it was immediately obvious he was now very small.

The neck of his shirt hung off of his shoulder and the hem almost reached mid thigh. Which was useful as his shorts and underwear were now far too big and he'd need to leave them behind.

He stood at the edge of the trees, bare feet sunk into the warm sand and a sea breeze blew up his makeshift dress, caressing and reminding him of his new body. The strange fruit's taste was still clinging to his tongue. He could smell it on his own breath, sweet and fruity.

He felt nervous at returning to camp. How would he explain this. Would they believe him... her?

The morning sun rose higher, throwing golden light across the waves. The wreckage shimmered in the distance, sharp and broken against the otherwise pristine backdrop.

Jonah was already standing near the fire, stretching, muscles glistening.

Kadi still slept in the shelter, curled like a cat, half revealed by a salvaged blanket. Danny sat cross-legged beside the drying luggage, carving something, his face far more peaceful than it had any right to be, given the situation they found themselves in...