When I awoke, the sun was burning overhead and I was sprawled in an awkward
position, the side of my face pressed into the sand. The sound of the ocean
was loud and I guessed that I was very close to water. With a bit of effort,
I managed to get to my feet and take a short glance around to see where the
hell I was. Not to far away lay Abigail Gates.
       Limping towards her, I struggled to see if she was hurt, blinded by the own
pain in my body. My knees gave way and I collapsed about a foot away only to
reach out and feel her pulse on her wrist. A steady heartbeat replied to my
touch and I realized that while she was unconscious, Abigail came out of the
accident unharmed. However, the word “accident” didn’t seem to adequately
describe what just happened to us. My next instinct was to find other
survivors such as her sister, Jackie and their friend, Thomas. Along with
them, my partner, Justin, was no where in sight, either. Panic threatened to
set in, but I knew that I had to bring Abigail out of her comatose state.
       Gently at first, I shook the brunette and she began to stir. Abigail didn’t
open her eyes, which meant she was fighting the urge to wake completely. I
gave her a firmer shake by the shoulder and she grunted in response. Then
her wide, brown eyes opened, obviously startled from the abrupt awakening.
Abigail sat up, took a single look at me and screamed in horror.
       I was sure that the environment we were in, along with my being a stranger
to her, caused this but it didn’t help the matter. My hand shot out and
clasped over her mouth, my other pressing the back of her head to keep her
from moving. Though she fought, I held tight and examined the outskirts of a
hostile-looking forest. It didn’t fit the desert island scene and that was
when I began to wonder what had happened. Abigail had quieted down, her
disorientation diminishing to my level. Removing my hand, I looked at her
but said nothing. With my mind racing so much, I didn’t think I could form a
sentence at the moment.
       “You were on the plane, too,” Abigail said quietly. I remained silent. “I…
I remember seeing you while walking to my seat.”
       Nodding once, I got to my feet and was met with a searing pain down my
spine. Instantly, I was back on my hands and knees, gritting my teeth and
despising my own mortality. Abigail was visibly frightened, seeing that the
only person that could help her was weakened from the crash. Instead of
giving her any time to dwell on her fears, I instructed her to do something
else.
       “Stay where I can see you, Abigail—“
       “My name is Abby,” she snapped.
       I kept going. “But go find sticks and any dry leaves. I’m going to make a
fire… It’s bound to get cold by evening.”
       The temperature was already dropping. We both knew. Hastily, Abigail got up
and went along the boundaries of the forest, gathering a mess of foliage and
sticks in her arms. Her speed was impressive but I guessed that she also saw
the sun setting. About a half-hour later, a fire was between us and the sun
was floating just above the water’s horizon. Since then, Abigail hadn’t said
anything but her eyes said everything. They were sad, worried and altogether
crushed. Jacqueline Gates and Thomas Poole were on the plane but why we were
the only survivors on this shore, I didn’t know.


       That night I dreamt of the days when my father took my family camping- the
real kind of camping. We hiked to the top of the mountain, fished and drank
from the lake… We learned from my father how to survive off of what the
Earth gave to us and I was always at peace doing it. Being out in the midst
of nature made me feel right at home, even in the most miserable conditions.
       The smell of smoke filled my nostrils and I turned my head, seeing the fire
smoldering in the darkness. Abigail was still across from me, shivering in
her camisole and jeans. My back ached as I sat up, trying to start the fire
again but in the darkness, it was damn near impossible. Abigail’s shivering
form gave me a feeling of worry. It was my job to protect this girl, after
all. Crawling to her, I lay down next to her and drew her close to my chest.
My body heat would get her through the night and in the morning, provided
that I could walk, we would search for shelter away from the oceanside.



       Once the sun had risen again, it grew warmer where we were and no longer
did we need one another to sustain heat. We lay side by side, no longer
huddled together. I woke first with the faint memory of what had happened to
us.
       Unbeknownst to the Gates family, I had been assigned by an organization to
follow after the daughters and the Poole son, keeping them from harm. Justin
was a comrade in the society that had been given the same assignment.
Neither one of us had expected an event such as this to happen but here I
was, sleeping in the sand beside the youngest daughter. Our leader had
described the Gates daughters as women with “unusual abilities to stop the
coming apocalypse”. I didn’t understand at the time what any of that meant,
but as I thought about it more, it became clear. Abigail escaped the plane
crash without injury and was able to simply walk it off. Jackie must have
been nearby, I thought, if they were some sort of superhuman species. Of
course, I ignored the idea due to the lack of food and water in the past
day.
       Food… Water… Damnit! With the aching in my body, substantial food didn’t
cross my mind. My stomach began to growl and I forced myself up, taking a
quick glance back at Abigail. Still asleep and at ease for the moment. I
cleared a path for myself into the forest, looking for something to nourish
ourselves until I knew what to do. Berries of some sort grew in abundance
and I wasted no time in testing them. Tart and almost unpleasant, I spit out
the first bite and searched for ripe ones, if there was such a thing. The
orange-colored berries proved to be better. Thank God.
       Returning with handfuls of the fruit, I found Abigail now up and alert. I
got closer and she turned quickly, looking terrified.
       “What happened?” I demanded, dropping our food into the sound.
       Abigail ran her hands over her face, taking calming breaths, “I woke up and
you weren’t here…”
       After motioning to the berries that now were soiled by the sand, Abigail
understood. She took a few in her hands and blew the sand off before
stuffing them into her mouth. For a moment, I watched her and then followed
her suite.
       “We can’t stay here, you know.”
       I looked up at her, nodding. “Yes, I know.”
       “Maybe there are survivors in the forest… Or some way to get out of here,
don’t you think?” Abigail’s eyes are hopeful.
       “Perhaps.”
       She ate more of the berries, sorting out the ones that hadn’t been squished
by my hands. I study her a bit longer, wondering why my leader believed that
this girl would stop the apocalypse in the world.
       “I don’t even know your name… You know mine,” Abigail suddenly says.
       It seems better to humor her. “My name is Christopher.”
       “And how the hell do you know how to do all this from scratch?” I gave
Abigail a funny look. “Build fires, find edible food, live like a wild
person.”
       I laughed. “Boy scouts, I suppose. It’s not that hard to do, Abby. If we’re
stuck here longer, and let’s hope to God that we aren’t, I’ll show you.”
       That seemed to make her spirits rise a little and I could see that she was
beginning to put her trust in me. I wanted to tell her the truth about how I
knew her, but it didn’t seem right. The last thing I needed was to scare her
and lose track of the girl because she ran away in fear.
       “For now, Abby, we need to get away from this open area. I think you’re
right about going into the forest- survivors could be there. We’ll find
them.”
       Abigail had that distant expression about her again. I could tell that she
was thinking about her sister again.
       “Finish up. We need to get going before it gets too hot.”
----------------

The plane’s wing was barely visible in the night, excluding the bright light
at its tip. Roxie Landis stared out into the bleak, navy sky and squinted,
attempting to see through the clouds. It was the middle of July and despite
the sweat-suit she wore, she was freezing.
       To add to her discomfort, she felt nauseous. Normally, planes never
bothered her but it was this particular flight. An uneasy feeling had
settled within her gut and it wasn’t from the turbulence.
       Cupping a hand over her mouth, the ebony-haired woman turned her gaze to
her lap where a copy of USA Today lay. Oahu often received the newspaper
late, which left her little time to act. Ten hours on a plane to the
Mainland, along with a layover in Denver, was horribly inconvenient.
However, when Roxie saw the article that read “FLIGHT 420 STILL MISSING IN
ATLANTIC OCEAN”, she knew that a chain of events had begun. These events
would- as usual- decide the fate of humanity.
       Once more Roxie peered into the abyss outside the window. It wouldn’t be
long by that point.
The plane had begun its descent into Washington D.C.

------------
       “This isn’t a negotiation, Mr. Mazur! You do not seem to comprehend the
gravity of the situation we are now in. The Gates daughters were on flight
420 and the state doesn’t seem to give a damn. These two young ladies are
carrying a valuable, historic item on their person. I do not believe that
they are dead—the plane merely went of the radar. Therefore, I need a
private company to fund a search party, which is exactly what you will be
doing.”
       Roxie had changed after landing, wearing a formal suit with an aquamarine
undershirt. Her usual attire would not have commanded such attention from
anyone, let alone William Mazur, the president of SolarWorld. It was a
company of overnight success and would supposedly cut down global warming by
fifty-percent. At least, that was what Roxie read on the plane. The company
was still fairly new, but quite wealthy.
       In response to Roxie’s demands, William leaned back in his chair while
clasping his hands together, taking on the image of a classic rich man. It
was clear that he was pondering how to answer. The silence only irritated
the young woman, but at last, William opened his mouth.
       “I understand your fears completely, Ms. Landis…”
       Roxie scoffed while William continued. “And I am willing to help you with
this expedition. However, as the saying goes, if I scratch your back, you
must scratch mine in return.”
“If it is a question of money, Mr. Mazur, let me assure you that you will,
in time, get it back. Your company is important to you, after all.”
Waving his hand dismissively and shaking his head, William Mazur motioned
for Roxie to take a seat in front of him.
“Yes, my business is fledging right now despite its publicity. Money is not
a concern for me- I have plenty of that. Unfortunately, I would prefer to
discuss this with someone higher up than you… Your advisor might be able to
provide me with a bit of help and, while I admire your spunk, you don’t have
what I need.”
“And what would that be?” Roxie said, feeling that uneasy sensation in her
stomach again.
William let a smile cross his middle-aged features. It had not been a kind,
warm one, either. Roxie unnoticeably shifted in her chair, gripping the arms
of the seat. When Mazur did not answer her, the ebony-haired woman rose to
her feet again. “I’ll expect to be hearing from you again, Mr. Mazur, and
let us hope it’s soon. I had two comrades on that flight as well and would
like to find them alive.”
“Of course, Ms. Landis,” Mazur replied in an even tone, “I will have my
secretary book a private jet as soon as possible.”
Nodding in reply, Roxie turned and walked towards Mazur’s office door, ready
to get out of the room as soon as she could. When she placed her hand on the
doorknob, Mazur called after her, “Don’t forget that next time, I wish to
speak to someone above your rank.”
Roxie gritted her teeth and slammed the door behind her.


Written by Kelli Reese