#NaNoWriMo 2017 Short Story #5 of 10: Runaway Island

As the wind whipped against my face, it was clear. We were headed the correct direction.

Across the tumultuous bay I could barely see it. The motor on the boat was giving out, but it didn’t need to last much longer. Just a mile or so. That’s all. Waves crashed against the sides of the tiny boat, careening up and into it in the process. We didn’t bring anything to bail out with, so all our hopes rested in getting to our destination as fast as possible. Leah threw up as the rolling of the waves finally got to her. Seasickness was the real deal. But it was all worth it. We were almost there. Our destination: Runaway Island.

It had been five years since The Incident. A curious event, since I would imagine most people didn’t see it as very consequential. But it was for us, and we had to get away. It was not safe for us back home. My people were getting abducted in the night without as much as a peep. The worst part? It seemed everyone just went on with the charade like it never happened. That is why others who were enlightened have made the dangerous trek to last safe haven for our kind. For safety. For life. Most didn’t have to endure such trials to have their life, but we did.

Battering up against the rocky shore, we had arrived at least, Leah and I spilled out the side of the boat. The water pushed our bodies around, but we held strong together one step at a time, eventually collapsing on a patch of sandy beach. We had made it. Slowly, others started appearing from the treeline. Cheers of joy emitted from them, and soon they were upon us, helping us to our feet and welcoming us.

It was a long walk to the center village, but the island was coordinated and chosen by some brave souls for it’s size, distance from the shore, a unique freshwater lake, and an abundance of natural resources. The challenge was learning how to sustain a living out here. Thankfully, the first of my people began their pilgrimage years ago and would have hopefully crafted some farming and care guidelines. We didn’t know how many people the island would hold, but we didn’t want to turn anyone away. In time, we could learn how to fish. And maybe, someday, we could even return home.

Gretchen, the leader of the group, greeted us when we made it to the center village. It was a nice space, although the tree tops were fairly open to the skies, so you still had to retreat under cover somewhere to protect yourself from the sun.

“Welcome Micah and Leah! We are so happy you made it safely. Some of us had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that Theresa and Patrick would have made it with you?” Her excitement quickly turned to despair, a feeling we all knew well.

I decided I should break the news. “The night before we left, we heard crashing and noises from their house. They were abducted in the night. That was the turning point for us — that was when we decided to come.” Shaking away the emotions welling up inside me, I continued. “We know they meant a great deal to you. We all spent a lot of time together.”

Gretchen nodded. “Well, after all, we did have the distinction of being involved in The Final Project.” The Final Project was the last of the efforts my people were allowed to do in public. Some say, it was The Final Project that led the government to banning us. It wasn’t any better or any worse, in my opinion, from other things people had done. But, it was what it was.

Trying to move past the uncomfortableness, Gretchen invited us over to the main hall for some food and water. How could we say no to that?

It was impressive the structures that were already built here. Creative uses of palm fronds, trees, and rocks led to some sturdy, shaded structures. We owed the first of our people to make it here a sizeable debt of gratitude. The main hall was a long structure with a large tree trunk right down the middle. Over time, somehow, they must have scraped off the top to make it flat. Here, they had an assortment of found objects they used to hold liquid and food. Coconuts and crab meat were popular options, but some berries and random insects and reptiles could also be seen. We wouldn’t have an issue with gaining weight out here, I thought. It made me laugh. Weight was such an important characteristic in my former life.

After having some water and picking at some food (I was starving but had only just arrived), Gretchen took us for a short walk to the lake.

It was beautiful. Birds of all sorts would take refuge on some fallen branches. Some mammals we spotted drinking from the cool water. I know we had to be careful when it came to eating this creatures. After all, we knew how important it was to keep the ecosystem in equilibrium. But, as hungry as I was now, it would be impossible to ignore the meat right in front of us. The animals didn’t even seem to notice that we were there. It would have been easy prey. However, many of my kind felt morally conflicted about eating animals, and thus had enjoyed mainly plant based diets prior to The Final Project anyway.

We sat on some stumps down by the shore of this exquisite and fortunate source of liquid. It was interesting to think about just how perfect this island was to have everything we needed. Oddly enough, it seemed familiar in some way. In any case, it was here that Gretchen revealed to us the routines that helped make life tick around here.

First, we would wake up for a morning briefing. Gretchen, and a few of the other leaders, would have done a survey of the island. In this meeting, we would be informed of where we should focus our efforts on gathering food. Currently, every member was allowed to find their own sustenance, but the leaders coordinated where on the island we could go. It was their way of trying to be sustainable so we didn’t clear out an entire section. They wanted to make sure it had room to replenish.

Then, we would work on more dwellings in the afternoons. So far, they had places to sleep for about 90 of us, but there were still at least 10 of us without shelter who would be sleeping outside. Due to material and space concerns, the structures would be built tight and close to the ground. Since we were the last to arrive, we would be the last to receive a structure. Everyone helped build them so that we all were working together.

As we got acclimated to our surroundings and began the daily routines, my mind wandered and I thought about what must have happened to the rest of our order. There were thousands of us. This island could hold a lot of us, but certainly not them all. Would the rest of them die? Were they being rounded up and murdered? Or would we just have to make do? It amazed me the journeys my mind would take without anything else to really occupy my time but mindless labor.

Thus, each day continued much like this. Waking up and gathering food for ourselves in the morning (or as long as it took.) Then, we worked together to build a dwelling, which took much longer than I thought it would. In fact, we didn’t even finish one. The time it took to gather the materials, plan out the building, and make sure we had the best spot was quite immense. It would take at least two days, if not three, to put together one dwelling. Doing the math, it would be at least a month of sleeping on crude ground coverings in the main hall before I had my own place.

As you could imagine, not everyday was paradise. We had storms. This also hindered the construction of dwellings as our materials would be scattered about and other structures would need to be repaired. Some days, we just couldn’t find enough food, which led to crankiness and arguments. So far, I’ve been fine, but I have witnessed a couple of all out brawls between people. They always work it out, but it is boring on the island. If anything, we appreciate the entertainment the fights provide.

After a few weeks, the first people to arrive since Leah and myself came. It was a group of four. Thomas, Yancy, Heather, and Jeremiah. They were some of the best of our craft and they had an incredible story to boot. Chased by the Government, they escaped. Even though they were all living separately, they miraculously all met up at a prearranged rendezvous point, finding a boat and navigating their way to Runaway Island.

Some new blood really helped morale. It kept the focus off of our boredom and own struggles while we caught up with them and how they have survived the past few years. The food supply continued to get thinner, but by this point, I had acclimated to the lack of food and was no longer starving and lethargic like I had been. Silly memories would occasionally pop up, like when I used to go run for long distances on purpose or lift massive objects repeatedly. These activities required a lot of food. Those days are long gone, and I think I’m better for it. Everything I do now has a purpose.

One day, Heather revealed that in their scuffle to escape the Government’s Police that she was able to secure a gun. She couldn’t describe it cleanly — I’m sure it was a harrowing experience — but all she knows is she has a gun with several bullets. I told her it would be best to share that info with Gretchen, as she was the leader. Perhaps we could use it for hunting the animals and adding some meat to our diets. Heather disagreed, however. Not having been here long, she hadn’t yet built a trust with Gretchen and simply didn’t want to give away the only leverage she had. That much did make sense. I promised to keep my mouth shut.

It was nice once I finally received my little pod. Sometimes, when I close to sleep but not quite there, I thought I could hear a slight whirring noise, but it must have been in my head. The Government never pursued us here for reasons I don’t understand. My eyes always looked to the sky and the horizon for signs of ships and planes coming to get us, but perhaps they figured on the island we were out of the way now and no longer a threat to them.

My dwelling also was a nice place to share my thoughts. The beauty of a large island with not a large population meant there was a lot of space between pods. Leah, who had the closest dwelling to me, would have had to shout to carry on a conversations. So, quietly, I could speak to the air, letting go of the circumstances that frustrated me about the island and things I missed about life before all of this.

The situation started to deteriorate, however, about six months into our experience on the island. We didn’t know how long we could last out here, but we didn’t think we had anywhere else to go. Thinking long term wasn’t a priority. Yes, we tried to be sustainable with food the best we could, but farming efforts were not going well and people weren’t consistently boiling their water on a fire. Thus, several of our people were getting sick. Add in the fact that some members were starting to slack on their chores, leading to fires going out from lack of fuel and more arguments, and the island was beginning to feel very small.

Then, in a blink everything changed.

Rumblings were heard. Winds picked up. A tempest was brewing. Once upon a time, I remember seeing coverage on television about events called Hurricanes, and everything about this storm felt like it was one of those. We were in trouble on the island.

Like a bomb, our home was blasted by the powerful energy of the storm. Palm fronds skewered the air, ripping through skin for those not in a shelter. However, the shelter’s didn’t matter for long, as the waves were mountainous, spilling over the shores and sweeping through the town center. Everything that had been gathered for days and built over weeks and created over months was wiped away like a smudge on your cheek. It was the most awful experience of my life, even worse than being forced into hiding and escaping to freedom. The pounding seemed to last forever, even if it was less than half a day. By the time the winds died down, the damage was done.

A quick survey of the island proved our worst fears were true. Our structures were all destroyed. Our fires were all out. All the food we had gathered had been swept away. The animals were nowhere to be found and the coconuts had been blown off the trees., as had most of the palm fronds. A quick test of the lake also revealed a horrifying truth — it had been whipped up and merged with seawater from the waves. Life on this island was about to become unlivable.

Gretchen called for a gathering at the former town center. She made her rounds as best she could around the island and found that miraculously everyone had survived. At this point, she spoke to the group.

“Friends, colleagues. This has been a devastating event. I applaud your resolve and am happy to see you safe. As your leader, I want to let you know I believe our best chance of survival is leaving the island. Therefore, I command us to build a boat to get as many of us off the island as possible. Unfortunately, the rest will have to build their own boat. We must get as many of us to safety as possible. I believe those of us here the longest should leave first.”

There was a mix of grumbles and cheers from the disheveled citizens. Those who were here first obviously were happy. Others, like myself, were not happy. We were hungry, thirsty, and exhausted too.

“Why couldn’t we just make enough boats for everyone? And where will we go?” I asked, my voice cracking in my anger.

Gretchen just shook her head. “Some of us won’t have much longer to live. We must scout the way. We will drop as many leaves as we can find in the water. IF you hurry, you could find us.”

At this point, Heather was done listening. She pulled out here gun, stunning the citizens and myself alike She was pointing the gun right at Gretchen. “That just won’t do. I came here to survive and be with my people. And you want to divide us? No, that doesn’t work. We either leave together or we stay here together. What’ll it be, Gretch?” Her voice was biting in her condemnation.

“Now now, don’t hurt yours…” she couldn’t finish as a shot rang out. Lurching backward, so stumbled, looking down as the ever expanding blood staining her dirty, tattered shirt. As she collapsed to the ground, the crowd turned their focus to Heather. Clearly, she held the upper hand now.

“Alright, now I’m in charge. I say we made haste to build whatever boats we can to make it to the forest just down the mainland. From there we can regroup. But we don’t leave unless we all leave.” There was quiet agreement. Unfortunately, I saw a problem. None of us knew how to make a boat. Gretchen was the only one here who had that construction background. The rest of us did not.

Just as we set out to try and gather whatever materials we could, we heard the sound of a plane flying close overhead.

“TAKE COVER” Heather screamed as we tried our best to dive into the bare-limbed tree cover. Looking up above, I saw tiny shapes falling out of the plane. They came closer and closer, until a parachute shot up above them. They were crates.

Upon landing just a few feet from me, I took a moment to open it up. Inside was more food than I’ve seen in years! I cried out to the others. “Here! Here! We have food! Someone is trying to save us!”

Others had crates fall near them, each one with a new lovely surprised. Some had fresh water bottles. Others had cots and building supplies. It was such serendipitous timing. Almost too perfect. Upon closer inspection though, it appears I missed something. Inside was a note.

“What does it say!” screamed one of the others. On the front was a giant inscription that said “Do Not Read Aloud — We’re Watching You”.

“Umm…it says not to read it aloud. Let me read it and I’ll share with you what I can. I think we need to honor whoever saved us.” I nervously replied. What was going on? After walking a distance from the people, I opened the letter and read it.

You’ve done our country a great service. Continue to provide us with such great drama and we will keep you alive. Everyone is watching. You and you alone will be able to keep the peace on the mainland. Just know — you aren’t the only island. Others weren’t as lucky as you. Keep us happy and we’ll do what we should have done before. Maybe taking your people off the air five years ago was a mistake, but now you actors are finally serving our purpose.

My mouth hung open, I stared at the sky. Five years ago, every actor and entertainer in the country, from athletes to production set builders, was forced into hiding for spreading anti-Government messages. Unfortunately, the decision backfired, as a bored populace began to act out. At this moment, we thought we were still being blamed and targeted. But it turns out, the answer was far worse. It was a ruse.

They forced us onto the island so they could watch us. So we could be their pawns for entertainment for the masses. Our survival depended on serving their agenda.

No matter what we do, our lives are forfeit. I rip up the letter and head back to try and bring my unsuspecting colleagues together. It will be just like making a movie, but this one never ends and our survival depends on two thumbs up.