Jason's eyes scanned the horizon, squinting against the glare of the sun reflecting off the endless expanse of water. His raft creaked beneath him, a constant reminder of his precarious situation. The last days of fishing had been rough, and if it wanted to remind Jason of it, hunger gnawed constantly at his mind.

"Just one fish," he muttered, reaching for his fishing rod. "That's all I need to break even for the day."

As he cast the line into the water, Jason winced at the pain of his sunburned skin stretching. The relentless heat beat down on him, causing sweat to trickle down his back. He licked his cracked lips, tasting salt.

The rhythmic sound of the waves almost lulled him into a trance-like state, but he forced himself to stay alert.

Suddenly, a shadow darted beneath the surface. Jason's heart leapt as his line went taut.

"Come on, come on," he urged, struggling to reel in his catch. Excitement and desperation mingled in his chest as he fought against the unseen force.

Just as he thought he'd won, a massive shape burst from the water. Jason's eyes widened in horror as a shark snatched the fish from his line, snapping the rod in two with a sickening crack.

"No!" he yelled, watching helplessly as the shark disappeared into the depths with his prize. "Damn it!"

Frustration threatened to overwhelm him, but Jason took a deep breath, steadying himself. He rummaged through his limited supplies, searching for anything that might help.

"Okay, think," he said to himself. "What would MacGyver do?"

His hands closed around a sturdy piece of driftwood and some spare line. A small smile tugged at his lips.

"Well, it's not exactly high-tech," Jason mused, "but it'll have to do."

With focused intensity, he set to work crafting a new fishing rod, his mind already racing with ideas for his next attempt at outsmarting the shark.

Jason worked methodically on his makeshift fishing rod, his fingers moving with surprising dexterity despite his sunburned skin. As he wove the line around the driftwood, he found himself talking aloud, his voice rough from disuse.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" he muttered, addressing the absent shark. "Thieving menace. Well, I've got news for you big guy. I'm not just some helpless snack."

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He paused, chuckling dryly at his own bravado. "Who am I kidding? I'm an engineering student, not Aquaman. But I'll be damned if I let a big fish steal my small fish."

With the fishing rod complete, Jason turned his attention to crafting a weapon. He selected a long piece of wood and began sharpening one end with his small crappy knife.

"Now this," he said, testing the weight of the makeshift spear, "this is more like it. Who needs a trident when you've got... whatever this is?"

He made a few experimental throws, the spear arcing through the air before splashing into the water. Jason winced at his poor aim, and his idea in its entirety.

"Okay, so I'm no Olympic javelin thrower. But I've got all day to practice, don't I?" He glanced around the empty horizon. "It's not like I have any pressing engagements."

As the sun began to set, Jason sat back on his raft, his new tools beside him. He had spent the entire day throwing his wooden spear into the water. The results weren't good, but it would have to do. He gazed at the darkening sky, a mix of determination and fear churning in his gut.

"Tomorrow," he promised himself. "Tomorrow, we will even the score."

The next day, Jason stood still for the entire morning.

Just as he was about to abandon his vigil and start fishing, a dark shadow materialized beneath the surface, circling his raft with predatory grace. His heart leapt into his throat, hammering against his ribcage.

"Well, well, well," he whispered, fingers tightening around the spear. "Look who decided to grace us with their presence."

The shark's fin broke the surface, slicing through the water with terrifying ease. Jason's palms grew sweaty as he tracked its movement, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"Steady," he murmured to himself. "You've got one shot at this, Keller. Don't mess it up."

With a surge of adrenaline, Jason hurled the spear with all his might. Time seemed to slow as it arced through the air, glinting in the sunlight. But at the last second, the shark darted away, leaving the spear to splash harmlessly into the water.

"No!" Jason cried out, watching in dismay as his weapon sank beneath the waves. "You've got to be kidding me!"

Frustration and disappointment welled up inside him as he slumped back onto the raft. The shark's fin disappeared, leaving him alone once more.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," he sighed, running a hand through his salt-crusted hair.

Over the next few days, Jason doggedly repeated the process. Each morning, he'd retrieve his spear, sharpen it anew, and wait for the shark to appear. And each time, his attempts were met with failure.

"Miss number... what are we on now? Seventeen?" he groaned after another unsuccessful throw. "I'm starting to think you're enjoying this, you overgrown tuna."

He had managed to catch a few fishes in the last few days, but not nearly enough to sustain his body. The presence of the shark had reduced the number of fishes around the raft, and Jason's stomach was paying the price.

As his meager food supply dwindled more and more, Jason felt the gnawing pangs of hunger grow more insistent. He stared at his last few scraps of food, the reality of his situation sinking in.

"I never thought I'd say this," he muttered, "but I'd kill for one of those sandwiches from the campus cafeteria right about now."

He gazed out at the endless expanse of ocean, a mix of determination and fear in his eyes. "Come on, Keller," he said to himself. "You've faced alien trials, well… no you haven't. But you can do this, you have to do this."