Hey guys, thanks for all the reviews, questions, and excitement for this story. I understand there are a few things you guys want answered, and I assure you all will be explained later, but for now enjoy the second chapter of The Most Dangerous Game.
Warmth. I am stirred from my sleep, brought to a world of consciousness by this pleasing sensation on my clammy skin.
Light. Sun. It must be midday. My eyes flutter open to confirm my suspicions. Because my eyesight is level to the ground it takes a few seconds before I can deduce where I am.
Sand. Beach. Island. I'm on some sort of tropical island situated in front of a vast, empty ocean. I inhale, searching for new information.
Gurgling. Rippling. Water. In the same millisecond that I've come to realize my air passage is still waterlogged, my body is forcibly removing the unwanted salty liquid stirring in my lungs out through my mouth and nostrils. I force my self onto all fours to get the water out more efficiently. After a few harrowing expulsions I take my first gulp of air. Wonderful, oxygen filled air. My lungs savor my gift before continuing the deed of removing the unwelcome ocean waters still residing within.
For a few minutes I switch between hacking up salt and seaweed flavored waters and breathing in salt and mildew flavored air before the physical demand of heaving takes its toll and I'm forced back onto my back for a rest. Flinging my right arm across my eyes to block out the sun's irritating rays I focus on the task of breathing through my nose that aches and stings with every breath thanks to the water that was forced through it. I still feel a miniscule pool of water at the base of my lungs, rippling with every breath, and decide that trying to expel what insignificant water remains would be a wasted and fruitless effort.
With no immediate danger to worry about my mind works to piece together the events that have led up to this situation with me in a ragged suit, throwing up sea water onto a white-sand beach. It begins with the last thing I can recall, looking up at a wall of fire overhead as death slowly claims me. Then I see myself slamming into and flying over a hand rail, then Daisy is waiting for my answer to a question I can't recall, then I'm running away from a crowd, and then I see it. The ring, Peasley on one knee, a flabbergasted Daisy. My stomach churns at the scene and I make haste to redirect my thoughts.
"So, I'm on a deserted island in a destroyed suit with no indication where in the world I am or what I'm going to do now." I say out loud to the benefit of my ears that have not a thing to hear but the crashing of waves since I've awoken, "I guess things can only go up from here".
A thought of optimism flashes across my mind as I realize with the cruise ship likely destroyed they will send out a rescue party soon. And with helicopters or boats whizzing by certainly I could gain the attention of someone. However my pessimistic side is quick to emerge, pointing out that they won't notice a missing cruise ship until the day it was suppose to dock, and that I had absolutely know idea when that was suppose to be. Also there wasn't any evidence that the island I've drifted upon was anywhere near the ship. This beach could be miles out of the way of any rescue team's route to the ship. And of course all the previous assumptions were banking on the idea that there was even a cruise ship and passengers left to save.
That was not a thought I could allow myself to humor. I needed a physical task to distract myself from any further horrifying ideas. Luckily my earlier upset stomach was eager to suggest a search for food with a long, low growl. I accepted the request and was soon on my feet, looking around my immediate area for food. With nothing but sand, rocks, and bare palm trees around me the task of food finding became immediately more difficult than I had anticipated, but I would not be one to give up quickly and resumed my voyage for food, walking the borderline of palm trees jutting out from the tropic jungle in hopes of finding a coconut bearing tree. After about an hour of mindless wandering and with the sun hanging just above the horizon my eye finally spots the green fruit hanging from the branches of a tall palm tree. I quickly scamper up the bark, no doubt tearing the weakened fabric of my dress slacks in the process, and nab myself one of the fat, luscious coconuts from the trio dangling from the branches. The journey up was a relatively simple task for me because of the combined need for sustenance and easy object to keep my focus on. However the trip back down quickly became a more difficult manner as I take note of how high up the tree I am. The fall could easily crack a few bones, if I didn't die on impact. Perhaps the drop I was perceiving was embellished by my crippling fear of heights. To test the reality of my situation I lobbed the coconut from my position at the top of the tree to the ground. My eyes follow the spinning coconut where it lands with a soft thud in the mixture of sand and dirt a few feet from the base of the tree. It does little to ease my nerves, but at the very least I understand a slip-up won't be fatal to me. So step by carefully-placed step I slowly lower my self inch by inch down the trunk of the tree until I am a simple 3-foot hop from the ground. I take the leap to get the task over with sooner and quickly scramble to pick up my well earned coconut. Locating a large pointed rock jutting up from the ground, I hold the coconut above my head with both hands before slamming it against the rock's sharpest point, instantly shattering the coconut and spraying all of it's juices. I frown at the wasted liquid splattered against the rock and sand, but with my throat already soaked with sea water I hardly have a thirst to quench.
I sit down and begin clawing at the coconut's soft, white-yellow insides and scoop the food into my mouth. I watch the sun slowly sink further into the ocean as I consume my dinner, finishing off the coconut as the waning twilight approaches. To keep warm during the night I dig a long, shallow hole in the sand far away from the ocean, considering I don't know if it's high or low tide, lay down in it, and shovel sand back onto myself starting at the feet and continuing up to my torso. When I finish rest my head and stare up towards the star-studded silky blackness. I'm greeted by the same night sky as the night I was thrown overboard. It shouldn't be calming as it is, but it's intricate design of sparkling lights lulls me into slumber regardless.
I dream of salty coconuts and helicopters made of sand.
This one's a bit short as far as chapters go, I had meant to get it finished sooner but things have been really busy for me as of late. A bit understandable since I've just completed a major milestone in my life, but I'll do my best to get the next one up faster. Things are going to really start picking up after this. Ciao for now.