Marooned (Closed-Started)

Paul

"Name's Kurtis, Adams," the man said, his eyes wild with unrelenting observation and excitement.
"I'm Paul," I replied, quietly, awaiting for the survivors to congregate.

It was good to see most of the group were still optimistic, it would seem that they had not lost anyone aboard the ship. As we had gathered there was a fair bit of chatter, maybe the nerves were still juttering around in the heads of us all, I certainly wasn't unshaken by the whole event, so I waited for them to slowly calm down. But that wasn't happening too quickly.
"Is everyone alright?" I queried aloud, trying to both gain their attention and determine if anyone required assistance. Faces turned.

"I'm fine."

"Nothing wrong here."

"Where on Earth are we?"

It seemed that nobody was in need of medical attention. "I have no idea what this place is, maybe we should set up a camp on the beach before we think about going into that forest." The majority of the group seemed to welcome the idea, but we had a problem: where would we get the materials to make shelter? It wasn't like we could just tear down trees with our own hands.
"We have no solid protection from the rain," Kurtis spoke my thoughts aloud.

"Precisely," someone else echoed, "how are we going to keep ourselves warm during the night when we'll be out in the open?"

"We could take a look around the shore; check if any driftwood or metal debris from the ship has washed up on the island?"

"Who said that?" I asked, trying to locate the clear thinker in the group.

Lindsey-

I choked and coughed salt water as my hands ran through the wet sand in vain. My arms couldn't support my body and my legs were jelly. I still felt the cloth strap of my bag around my neck and shoulder, though now it felt like carrying a ton of bricks now that it and I were both soaked through and through.

I remembered back on the ship. Alarms... screams... someone calling out that there was a raft... a brief memory of my little girl and boy...

I looked up at the beach and saw people already scrambling from the beaten raft onto the beach. Rubbing some salt flavored hair out of my face and eyes, I pushed hard from the sand, my arms sunk in a few inches.

"Ugh, I'm never going on vacation again," I muttered. A small portion of the group had gathered around a pair of men, one looked like he had been knocked out.

I shook my head, oh that wasn't a good idea. A headache began to throb in the back of my skull. Gently standing up, I walked over to where the numbers were. There was always safety in numbers, right?

"Is everyone alright?" asked an older gentleman.

There were a few agreements, all I could really do was nod as I took in the situation. We were on a beach... tropical climate... and there was no sign of hotels or resorts or anybody else.

Some of the others were discussing shelter as the sun began to sink closer to the horizon.

"We have no solid protection from the rain," said another man. I grimaced and looked at the sun. Rain was the last of our worries if we couldn't find some shelter by nightfall.

Someone else voiced my thoughts. "Precisely. How are we going to keep ourselves warm during the night when we'll be out in the open?"

"We could take a look around the shore... check if any driftwood or metal debris from the ship has washed up on the island?" I offered.

"Who said that?" asked the older man... oh what was his name?

I slowly raised my hand while trying to rub the headache away from my temple. "Uh... that would be me."

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Lindsey Flynn."

Annabella

The night of the storm was awful. The roar of the wind had whistled and screamed along with the many people drowning on the ship. Salt water spraying your face and wondering how on earth I was going to survive this. Now it seemed we were the only survivors.

My friends.. I thought. They're all..dead. My breaths came in short shuddered gasps. I needed to compose myself, there were other people here who lost a lot more.
I looked around, many were gasping for breath and there was a man lying on the ground. An older man was talking to the group as a whole and I got closer to hear. He seemed to be put together and in charge, a natural leader. Many people looked scared and disheveled and I realized that I probably did too.

Someone said that we should look for firewood. I spoke up " I agree with her. We need to keep warm and be protected from wild animals. But we should also look for a place to spend the night. Not to far from the shore so we're not out of reach from rescuers but..sand isn't the best place to sleep in."

I didn't anticipate on giving such a long speech. I stammered to a stop and turned red. I turned to go help the man lying on the beach.

The storm rocked the trees, swaying there branches. I let my gaze wander to my companions. A few of them intrigued me. Paul, who seemed to be a natural leader, held my attention simply because he didn't annoy me. Annabella was interesting too. She was clear headed but kind and compassionate. I liked her.

Then there was Lindsay Flynn who for some reason annoyed me. She and Paul seemed to be on good terms. There was Cailey, who I quite lied too and had a clear head. I just tried to keep my input to a minimum and just observe. Annabella came over, a rosy glow coming to her cheeks.
"Any news?" I asked. She shook her head. I patted the seat next to me and awkwardly tried to sound compassionate. She noticed this and smirked.

"Not good with people?" I grinned.

Understatement of the year.

Spoiler

Uh, cm57105, Cailey is a user, not a character. Could you edit your post so we know who you're talking about?

Paul

"Lindsay Flynn."

That was brilliant, it was good to hear that, despite the catastrophe that we had all just suffered, someone was on the ball; thinking straight. "Yes, fantastic idea Miss Flynn!" I turned to the group with growing enthusiasm; if we could find shelter and sanctuary before the day was out, then that'd be much of the battle towards getting rescued, after all, we would have to survive if we were to have a chance of getting off the land outside of a body-bag. "Okay everyone, pair up with one another, and make sure you remain on good terms. We need to survey the beach and locate any pieces of large, scrap-metal that has drifted ashore, understand?" I heard a few tired grunts from the group, but they would have time to rest tonight, and twilight was fast approaching: if I had made a guess, I would have said the time was about six o'clock.

I had decided that I would get to know this Kurtis better, he had seemed a very excitable and energetic man, which would be very helpful in the days to come. I placed a hand on his shoulder heavily, smiling to assure him I was his friend. He seemed to beam back.

"Let's not waste any time," he said, loudly, before jogging at a fast pace across the sand.

"Hold up!" I called after him, "These old bones can't run that fast!"

Kurt

My jog became a run, a sprint, and rapidly a faceplant. Adjusting to dry land would have been hard enough without the sand. This beach was treacherous, and my legs were weak from days of disuse.
Paul was at my side in an instant, helping me to my feet. He had a reassuring paternal air, everything I could have wanted as a child, everything I was denied.
I stiffened at the thought; Paul released me, and I walked on in silence.
Within minutes I was humming.

We arrived back after almost forty minutes, dragging with us a metal sheet about two metres square. As far as I could tell, it was not actually a part of the ship, but close scrutiny held little interest for me. On the way, I had explained my disorder to Paul; a lengthy process with many tangents and distractions. He seemed comitted to supporting me as best he could, with a genuine nobility my own father never had.
A small fire crackled in the ever-increasing darkness. OUr trip had been westwards, persuing the sun, so the darkness never seemed an issue, but having stopped the dusk's cool shadow already enveloped us, leaving only the dancing flames reflected by the white metal sheet and lapping waves.
I lay the panel down with reverential grace, then sat, cross-legged, to watch the fire's shimmering display while Paul located one or two others to check their progress and locate a suitable spot for a shelter. My fingers danced the patterns of the song I had been due to perform the night the cruiser capsized, fretting empty air, complex riffs sounding in my head to the waves' regular beat.

Alex

Now that I had been given a job to do, I lost the need to enjoy my beach vacation. Annabella held out a concerned hand, but I assured her that I really wasn't hurt. It took several minutes to convince her that the reason I laid in the sand was because I enjoyed the sand. No need to tell her how dizzy I still felt.

"Anyway, shelter," I murmured, smiling in a last attempt to make Annabella see that I was fine. Some of the other guys carried over pieces of metal, and without thinking too much about where they'd come from, I started to help arrange them into some kind of building. Christopher came beside me and started to help, and I was surprised to see how smart he was. He didn't say anything while he worked, but as he pointed out what he wanted done, I hardly find time when words would have fit in anyway.

"Thanks," I told him as we stepped back to observe the crude shelter we'd construted. I realized that Emmet had also been helping, but before I had a chance to say anything to him he retreated to the fire that Kurt and Paul had built. Lindsey and Annabella stood nearby, both watching the flames in silence.

"Thanks for building the shelter," Paul said. He stood up to inspect our work. "It isn't perfect, but it's better than I expected for tonight." I chose to take his words as a compliment and nodded my head in appreciation.

"No problem. Tomorrow we'll work some more, and before evening we'll have a five star hotel." I followed Paul back to the fire and took a seat in the sand.

"I've had enough with five star..." Paul murmured, and images of the sinking cruise ship flashed into my mind. I shook away the pictures and instead turned to Kylie, who was sitting a distance apart.

"Come join us?" I asked, and Kylie moved closer to the fire. By then the entire group had found a seat at least in the general area, and we watched the sun drop beneath the horizon. I realized for the first time what had happened. The ship, gone. We were alone on this beach, and everyone else on the cruise was dead. "Maybe it isn't an island," I whispered to myslef, "maybe we landed in Florida."

Lindsey-

As the sun sank to the horizon, my memories went with it. I couldn't help picturing my girls with their grandmother, my mum crying and they not knowing why. Abigail was only three and Debbie 13 months... they would never know me.

"Maybe we landed in Florida," I heard Alex whisper.

Maybe we did land in Florida. Or at least somewhere habitable. Most of the world was discovered already or at least known. Even Antarctica has been mapped out.

"Mr. Mulroney, may I ask you a question?" I looked up to the man sitting across the campfire from me. From what I had seen today, Chris was very intelligent and he was the one who took point on getting this shelter up.

"Yes?"

I sighed and looked back into the fire. "What are the odds of landing on a completely remote island? What are the chances that there is no one here?"

Even as the words came out of my mouth, they felt sour and I immediately wished I could take them back and just go back to sitting in silent peace.

Spoiler

Let's get some campfire talk going!

Spoiler

I am SO so sorry for being so late! I am here now!

Christ Mulroney

I held my hands over the fire, to dry them, but not for long. Too much evaporation would be bad news for my thirst levels, particularly on a deserted island.

One girl, Lindsey, addressed me, "What are the odds of landing on a completely remote island? What are the chances that there is no one here?" Now, I am particularly good at probability and statistics. Before embarking on the voyage, of course, I researched boating accidents per annum for the past century. Equipped with this knowledge, it was fairly simple to determine the odds.

"Well, considering millions of boats traverse the ocean, and there are approximately seventy shipwrecks a year, the odds of wrecking are the minutest decimals of a percent. But that is only wrecking. The odds of not only sinking, but being marooned on an island, any island, in the ocean would be around one in several thousand, taking into account the coastal area of every island. Now, to get to this particular island, the odds are incalcuable. Does that answer your question?" I supposed we could be considered lucky. Lucky, but not fortunate.

Annabella

I sat near Alex in the campfire. The guy still didn't seem 100% to me but if he wanted to play the though guy I wasn't going to stop him. As I sat watching the flames escape into the night sky, I thought about how lucky we all were to be alive. Simple things, like breathing in fresh air and feeling the sand between my toes.

I looked around the circle, trying to renember names there was Lindsay and Paul the leader and .. Kurt? Yes, that one was Kurt. She was starting to debate some of the other names when the others started talking about survivors. A wave of sadness passed over her for all the lives. Those of her friends and those that the survivors had lost.

After I heard Kurt's question and Christ's ansewer a gloomy silence fell over the group.

"Hey, hey. Let's not talk like that. This could easily be part of multiple small little islands in that we were going to pass by. They could easily be on another part of the island. "

I gave a smile and looked at everyone, "Besides, we're alive right now and we need to concentrate on staying that way."

Alex

"Well, I sure don't plan on dying," I answered slowly. Annabella almost smiled, but at the same time shot me a look of annoyance. "Sorry," I apologized, though I wasn't sure for what. "Okay, there's no point in sitting here looking at the bad stuff, right?" No one spoke, and I started to wonder if it would be best to just shut my mouth and stop talking, like everyone else was doing.

"Okay, show us the good stuff," Annabella challenged. I sat up straigter and took a handful of sand, I let the cool, soft, sand drop through my fingers while I talked.

"We're alive. We're on an island; we don't know for sure that it's uninhabited. We have a shelter," I pointed to the little leaning house, "and it's pretty awesome, if you ask me. We have a fire; it's not very cold out anyway. It looks like this island had plenty of food, and I bet we can find a stream of fresh water. Plus, there's a lot of us, so we have time to enjoy the, um, vacation."
I tried to think of something else. Really, the list wasn't all that encouraging, and I coud tell no one else was thrilled, either. "Oh, come on, someone must have an interesting story to tell?"

"Maybe we should just go to sleep?" Emmet asked sullenly. I shook my head.

"It's probably only six o'clock. The sun sets early when you don't have electricity to keep it going. Does no one have a story? Tell us about your childhood or your dog, or what job you have and how much you hate your boss. There has to be something worth saying, right?"

I waited for an answer, meanwhile searching my own brain. I couldn't think of a single interesting story from my past. Hopefully someone else could come up with something..

Kurtis

My attention wandered as group conversation began to flag. I found my eyes drawn to the forrest which bordered directly onto the beach; the variety of plant life astounded me, holding me firmly in a trance-like state.
"There has to be something worth saying, right?" Alex's words hooked me back into the conversation. My gaze drifted from diverse vegetation to an equally varied managerie of faces.
"I fed marijuana to a cow once." I offered. The faces, flashing interest at my joining the conversation, turned quickly blank. The lack of appreciation stung; I wracked my brain for a conversational get-out.
"How 'bout this: There was this island, and a group of people found themselves washed up-"
"That's just us. How is that even meant to help? " Emmot shot me down immediately. Someone else muttered similar dissent. I let my head hang, muttering.
"Actually it was Swiss Family Robinson," I sighed, fingers tracing furrows in the sand, Thought we could use some inspiration."
Paul squeezed my arm supportively, but said nothing. Silence threatened to descend once more, and I felt as powerless to stop it as I had been to stop the Adeptus Vita from sinking.

Lindsey-

I smiled slightly at Kurtis' attempt. "The problem, Kurtis, is that the Robinson's had everything they needed to survive on the island. We're in more of a Robinson Crusoe situation," I said lightly, trying to go with the "aim to ease the tension" that Alex and Kurtis were trying to achieve. It was better than feeling sour.

"Like Tom Hanks and Wilson?" asked Annabella.

"I hope not," muttered Emmet. "Stuck here for years on a God-forsaken island with cannibals-"

"No one said there were cannibals," interrupted Paul. "And this place might not be forsaken."

"I'm sorry I said anything," I murmured apologetically. Maybe talking was not such a good idea.

"I think we all just need to get a good night's sleep and we'll think fresh in the morning," Paul continued.

Chris

I was still bent on hearing a story, but it was true that a sleep would be useful given the trauma we'd all experienced.

"If we're going to sleep, someone had best watch the fire, if for nothing else than to keep away the mosquitos," I offered, "And to catch some rain if any happens to fall." Shelters and fires would do us no good if we dried out in the sun.

Alex

"I'll watch the fire!" I offered. Slowly, the others headed off to the shelter and found their beds in the sand. I waited until silence descended over all of us before leaning back myself and pushing the sand into a makeshift pillow. The moon hung above me with eyes that seemed almost mocking, and I stuck my tongue out at it.
"What are you laughing at?" I questioned. Only silence answered, silence and the buzz of insects. A small breeze brushed over my skin, and the peace of the ocean filled every corner of my being. It felt like only seconds had passed before the sun began to reach over the horizon. The fire still blazed, but I stood up to leave it to the wind and waves. None of the others had woken yet, so I moved down the beach to go to the bathroom and maybe find some food or water.
By the time I returned, empty handed but not disillusioned, almost everyone was up, buzzing about the camp in disorderly confusion. "Good morning," I shouted, and a few nods were all that recognized me. I sat down again to await instructions from some kind of leader.