Trapped

I slowly opened my eyes and looked around in horror. I heard the sound of crashing waves and howling winds. A tree was uprooted somewhere to my right and the crashing, cracking sound bombarded my ears. It reminded me of something I’d heard before. The sound of thunder as it shook the plane. The memories flooded back and I remembered how I had gotten here. I saw again the look of worry on my pilot’s face as he lost contact with base. We had tried to fly around a massive storm but we weren’t fast enough. We were miles off course when the plane went down, crashing into the ocean.

I remembered the tremendous sound as the plane plummeted past the roiling surface of the water and I was thrown around violently. The force of the crash had ripped the plane apart, bolts coming away from metal like they were nothing but plastic toys. I had somehow managed to release the life raft and had clambered aboard. I was bloodied and had hit my head. With the last ounce of strength I had I pulled myself onto the life raft. As soon as I had, I passed out to the sound of rough seas and unforgiving winds.

I had no idea how long I had been unconscious for and my yellow life raft was nowhere in sight. I was lying on my back on coarse sand disrupted frequently by hulking, smooth rocks. I felt a sudden sharp pain swallow both my feet and jerked back up the beach. I realised it had been a wave, the water was freezing. I shakily stood up and looked around as another loud clap of thunder sounded overhead, making the beach quake underfoot. The sand was black and as I looked up further I saw a sea of green palms. The bright foliage of the tropical trees contrasted greatly against the backdrop of the black-as-night sky. Wind whipped and tore away leaves from the trees and particles of sand assaulted my eyes and face. That’s when the rain started.

It wasn’t the light rain you got sometimes in New York City that left you a bit wet and cold. This rain was harsh and unyielding. Large drops smacked against my face and body, within seconds the rain had gotten so severe that every drop felt like nails being hammered into my skin. I ran for the trees, thinking that their leaves would provide some protection from the harsh rain that fell against the island with what seemed like evil intent. I was wrong, the thin leaves provided close to no protection. The rain pelted them and in some cases tore them apart.

I ran from the trees and looked around. The flooding rain made the distance blurred and hard to see. I saw a huge cliff jutting out from the island to my right. With dying hope and the rain still bombarding my body I started running towards the cliff. It was closer than I originally thought and as I looked up at its giant mass I was astounded at how it reached towards the sky, looking like it could almost touch the heavens.

I scanned the sheer black face of the cliff searching for somewhere to take shelter. I noticed a patch of black darker than the rest of the cliff and realised it was a rugged cave door. I moved towards the cave and noticed sharp black rock jutting out at seemingly random places around the mouth of the cave. I carefully picked my way through the cave, only cutting my leg once. A large gash of red opened up on my leg when I slipped, red blood trickling down to the cave floor. Despite my injury I felt relief flood through me, I was finally out of that horrible rain, the cave providing me with shelter. The cave was only shallow, surrounded by jagged black rock and beach. As I looked out at the rain I realised suddenly how thirsty I was. My throat was parched and sore and ached for water. At the mouth of the cave I noticed how a small puddle of water had formed on a concave rock. I shuffled over to it, pain shot up my leg as I made my way towards the puddle.

The water was brown and dirty but it was better than nothing. My throat throbbed as I looked at the water and I licked my lips, my rough tongue scraping along my dry, cracked lips. I cupped my hands and submersed them in the cold water. The liquid flowed over my hands and spilled through my fingers as I brought the water up to my mouth. Instant relief flooded through me as I gulped at the water. I filled my hands up with the sweet water several more times until I was satisfied.

When my desire for water had been fulfilled I felt tiredness wash over me. My eyelids drooped and my head felt heavy. I found a small patch of sand up near the back of the cave and curled into a ball. The rain thundered against the outside world, the sky tearing at its seams. I fell asleep to the sound of crashing waves and dramatic thunder and pelting rain and the sense of foreboding that pervaded everything. Was I ever getting off this island?

I awoke to a feeling of warmth on my face. The morning sun shone with a fierce heat. I must have left my window open.

But then I remembered where I was. The plane. The island. The cave.

I decided to get up, my limbs shouted a painful protest. The gash on my leg had scabbed but as I stretched it tore open anew. I came out of my cave, extremely careful this time not to cut myself.
I walked along the rocky beach searching for signs of habitation. I could see the destruction from last night’s storm everywhere I looked. Toppled trees were lying on the sand, like the claws of a great beast reaching forward from the forest, clawing at the beach. Green and brown leaves coated the black rocky beach like a natural carpet, laid down just for me, a sort of welcome.

There was no way I could scope the size of the island last night admits the rain and haze, but now that the sun was out and the sky clear I could finally see properly. The island was small, a lot smaller than I originally thought. Small enough that I could probably walk around its entire circumference today and still make it back to my cave with hours of sun light to spare. Geography wasn’t one of my hobbies but I knew enough to know that there was a high chance this island was deserted. It was too small and too uninhabitable.

I was walking along the beach when I noticed something bright yellow in the distance. I ran towards it, immediately knowing what it was: my life raft. When I reached it I saw the huge hole torn in the side, it was fully deflated. Despite my disappointment I rooted around the insides of the raft looking for anything. To my surprise I found a long metal box. My heart leapt, inside this box could be my way off this island.

I opened the box. Inside was a box of matches, two flares, a multi-tool and a small pack of barley sugars. I had torn open the packet of barley sugars and eaten three before I had time to think. I hadn’t realised how hungry I had been. I placed the rest of the pack back in the metal box and clasped it shut. Hunger still gnawed at my stomach and I decided to search the trees, maybe I could find some berries. I walked into the forest and the tall trees closed in around me. The only things covering the ground were leaves from the above trees in varying stages of decay. I looked up and was shocked to see huge bunches of green bananas hanging from the trees. My stomach rumbled at the sight. I shimmied up the closest tree, a feat that took me almost ten minutes, ripped off a bunch of bananas and watched intently as they tumbled to the ground.

Shimmying down the tree took a lot less time than shimmying up the tree. Partly due to gravity, partly due to the fact that at the ground food was waiting for me. The bananas were amazingly green and I had to use the knife from the multi-tool to open them but they were sweet and sated my hunger. Relief flooded over me as I looked up again at the sea of bananas stretching out above me. I had food.

A week had passed and not much had changed. Every day was the same: I would wake up; eat some bananas; wonder around; eat some bananas; put some more rocks on my S.O.S. sign on the beach; eat some bananas; sleep.

I was up a tree, cutting down a bunch of bananas, when I heard it. I couldn’t make it out at first and then I realised what the whirring sound meant. A helicopter!

I dropped from the tree, almost five metres in the air, and heard a crunch as my ankle snapped. Pain shot up my leg and I screamed. The whirring got louder.

I hobbled to my feet and ran for my cave where I left the metal box containing the flares. Every step caused me pain as I jolted my broken ankle. I clambered through the mouth of the cave, cutting every limb on jagged rocks, blood pouring from my many wounds. I grabbed the metal box and ran from the cave. I fumbled at the clasp and tore a single flare away, discarding the metal box somewhere on the beach behind me.

I looked up and saw the helicopter overhead. I lit the flare, sparks and flames shooting up at my face. I held the flare and waved it over my head screaming. The helicopter continued on, the whirring of the blades becoming less audible.

I screamed with a dying passion and waved the flare above my head with reckless abandon, my hope dying with the flames. I fell to my knees on the rocky beach, crying out in pain and anguish. My hands smeared blood across my face.

And then the whirring became clearer. The helicopter had turned around. It was coming towards me.
I cried out in joy and leapt in the air, ignoring the pain in my ankle, my body electrified with new found energy. They had seen me.

The helicopter floated above my head, descending slowly. I was going to be rescued. Tears streaked my face and elation flooded through me. I was getting off this dreaded island.