[ WP ] [ WP ] A young couple and older man are stranded on a deserted island . The older man agreed to kill himself so as to provide nourishment for the couple and give them a chance of surviving long enough for rescue . The older man is now having second thoughts ...

Hey everyone, trying to get back into writing after a long hiatus. Wrote this during a break at work so it could be much better -- first submission so be gentle. 
 
 I wrote this whole thing and then realized I had the EXACT same ending as another poster. I swear this is unintentional and I did n't realize until after I was finished writing. Given that fact, I debated about whether I should post but I figure this is just for fun, so what the hell: 
 
 JUST A LITTLE LONGER... 
 Day 4 
 It was blisteringly hot the next day, and the light rained down on them so brightly and oppressively that it was painful even to crack their eyes open. 
 
 They could all feel themselves weakening now, it was undeniable. They all felt the life draining out of them and evaporating, like everything else on the godforsaken island. 
 
 Hank looked at the young couple with apprehension due to their conversation the previous night. He felt assured with his decision to sacrifice, but how was he to know when it was the proper time? How long could he reasonably hold off before there would be no hope for any of them? He looked over at Steve and Angie. Steve looked haggard, almost dead. He had the face of a man who had been through too many battles already, that “ thousand yard stare ” that seemed to suggest he no longer cared whether they got rescued or not. Hank hadn ’ t expected them to fade so quickly, given the benefits of youth. He could see them wilting like neglected plants right before his eyes. Even just since the morning there was a marked difference. 
 
 Was it really proper then, that Hank should sacrifice himself? He could barely hold himself upright anymore, but he still felt the burning, animal drive to survive deep within. Maybe, just maybe, Hank was the one meant to survive. Why, just because they were younger….No. He chased the thought away. 
 
 “ Well, one more bottle of water, ” Steve announced flatly. 
 
 “ Keep your spirits up! It might rain soon. Hell, it rains all the time here, ” Hank said, trying to keep the bleakness of their situation at bay. 
 Steve grunted. Angie laid on the sand, shaking a little. 
 
 “ Look Hank, we ’ re dying here. Another day without water and we ’ ll be dead. You must fucking realize that by now. ” 
 
 “ Well then we ’ ll just have to find water! ” 
 
 “ We can ’ t even fucking move Hank! We already scoured every goddamned inch of this island, and two fucking bottles was all we got. It ’ s hopeless. And it must be one fucking hundred degrees out here today. And nothing to eat… ” 
 
 “ Dammit Steve, your attitude is as important to survival as anything. We can ’ t give up now! Out of 27 people on that plane, who survived? Us three! We ’ ve already made it past the worst part. We can ’ t give up now. They must be looking around this area, we only floated on the raft overnight. How far could we have gone? Just hold out a little longer! ” 
 
 Hank had been in some bad situations in his 52 years, but this was the worst. He looked at Steve and saw leanness, a hunger in his eyes. Like an animal. Angie was moving ( and talking ) less and less. By nightfall, she was unconscious and her breathing grew shallow and irregular. 
 
 “ Hank, this is it. Remember what you said… ” Steve pleaded, glancing at the knife. 
 
 “ I know it ’ s hard to do, so if you can ’ t…I will. ” He continued. 
 
 “ Not yet, goddamn it! Attitude! Just a little longer! Give it one more day. It ’ s not time to give up just yet! ” Hank spattered desperately. 
 
 Still looking at the knife, Steve ’ s eyes slowly closed and he lapsed into unconsciousness. 
 
 Hank lied there shivering and listening to the waves crash against the beach. He felt the knife blade his hand, twirling it and gently stabbing the tips of his fingers with it. Steve was right. He had to do it. If he waited any longer, the time would pass and they would all be lost. He took a deep breath. He tried to gain his composure, to prepare himself, but he knew it was useless. You could never be prepared to do something like this. He winced and started sobbing. His sobs grew more and more powerful until his whole body began convulsing, and with all the energy he had left in his whithered almost-corpse of a body he dragged himself first to his knees, and then laboriously and unsteadily onto his feet. 
 
 DAY 5 
 The pilot guided the Grumman Albatross down, with the pontoons gently touching the water a little after 2 PM. The team lowered the raft and paddled over towards the island, fearful of the grotesque discovery that awaited them. 
 
 “ Jesus Christ. ” 
 
 There was blood everywhere, and it had soaked into the sand in patterns that made it look like some failed attempt at abstract expressionism. 
 
 Two of them were dead, their skulls bashed in with a heavy rock that laid by their side. The other one was still alive, albeit barely. He was 50 feet or so away, hunched behind a palm tree shuddering. He didn ’ t move to approach the rescuers. 
 
 Col. Hawkins stared down at the brain matter and skull fragments. Both of the bodies had hack marks on their thighs, and someone had ( poorly ) cut out a hunk of muscle and skin. 
 
 “ What in the HELL happened here? ” Hawkins shouted. 
 
 Two of the other men approached the survivor, hands on holsters. 
 He looked to be about fifty, with his hair sticking up in all directions and a week ’ s beard growth. There was dried blood smeared all over his face and hands, and a bottle of water with a few sips left in it lied at his feet. He was whispering something to himself, though they couldn ’ t hear him until they got closer. 
 
 “ J-j-just a l-l-little longer…. J-j-just a l-l-little longer… J-j-just a l-l-little longer… ” he kept repeating, almost inaudibly. He was staring far off into the ocean, and he didn ’ t seem to care that his much awaited rescue had finally come. The men handcuffed him and carried him back to the raft. The dark blood slowly faded as the waves gently lapped the beach. 

