Survivalist

Steady the spear, calm the mind, now THRUST! Misty thrust her spear as hard as she could but whiffed on the small manta ray she was currently focused on. “Ooof!” was the sound that went out of her mouth as water went in. She quickly swam her way to the surface, coughed out the water and grabbed her shoulder. Missing with her spear wasn’t something she did very often but any time it happened it never felt good.

Disappointed, she gingerly swam back to the shore. Then a half-smile crept on her face as she remembered, this was the day! Half of the spear fishing was done to convince that she was following rules but half was because she enjoyed it. The sea was her happy place, if there was any happiness at all on this God forsaken island. Misty believed in her creator and often prayed but she couldn’t imagine something so bad could happen to her. One month ago she went home from school to take a nap. Next thing she knew a man had a cloth over her face and she was screaming. What seemed like seconds later she woke up on a deserted island.

As soon as she knew what was going on she had observed that there were 9 other children, all seeming to be around her age. All of them looked terrified, although she had assumed the look on her face was utter horror too. There was one man in the middle of all of them, he looked to be her grandparent’s age as his hair was white and his skin a mix of tan and red, lined with wrinkles. He went on to explain that he’s had enough of this generation’s work ethic. He continued, saying he devised a game he called Survivalist to teach the laziest generation in Earth’s history a lesson.

Laying on the shore, Misty recalled the rules to her mind, hoping she was almost out of the woods, nay the island. Rule #1 was her least favorite, not helping the others. She had already grown to love a girl named Maggie who reminded her of her little sister Lila and wanted to keep her fed. Rule #2 she often forgot until she was about to break it. No work on Sundays. This man claimed to be a Christian but how could he be, Misty thought about this often. On Sundays they would all have one meal together to sustain them for the day. Misty assumed this was to poison children who broke the rules as she saw some of her new friends die very suddenly and strangely. She rolled her eyes whenever she thought of the third and final rule. “The last child standing has proved their worth to society and will be allowed to go home”. Not only was it not exactly a rule but she didn’t believe it for a second.

A few weeks ago, while whispering to each other on a walk along the shore, Maggie pointed out a camera following and zooming in on them. For the next few days, they both kept mental notes about places they did and didn’t see cameras. Quickly they began to develop strategies of how they might escape, knowing any work they did had to be done quickly while out of view, they didn’t want to raise any suspicion. Maybe it was a miracle or maybe it was their creator not forgetting about them but the same day hatched a plan to build a raft they stumbled upon an old rusty hatchet, apparently abandoned in the woods.

Every day after this discovery, Maggie and Misty would coordinate times to go out and chop wood, never disappearing for more than 15 minutes and never disappearing together as to not raise suspicion. After nearly eight collective hours over what Misty guessed was two weeks they had created a raft big enough for two people as well as two paddles to go along with it. Both girls were young but they were old enough to know the chances of having another island or boat near were slim. They, however, were willing to trust their chances of stumbling upon either of those happening rather than having to trust a man that kidnapped them to subsequently let them go.

After daydreaming about the past month for what seemed like hours, Misty caught herself and woke up, knowing the time to strike was soon. The only plot hole either could think of in their plan was the fact that to get to the shore they’d have to carry their raft and paddles by the cameras, so they’d have to do so in the middle of the night. To carry out the first part of her plan, she took a pail from the shore and gathered water. She would then go to boil it, getting enough clean water to drink right at bedtime, making sure she couldn’t sleep through the night. Going to bed, she dreamed the sweetest dream she’d had in a while. She was dribbling a basketball, defenders draped over her. Just then she passed the ball to Lila who gracefully laid the ball onto the backboard and into the basket while the buzzer sounded. They had won the championship and she hugged her sister tightly. 

“Misty….Misty” a hushed whisper and her arms wrapped around a leg was what she woke up to. She was startled that she had overslept her bladder alarm but was glad to hear a familiar and friendly voice. Misty rubbed her eyes, looking up at Maggie through fuzzy vision and whispered “the raft?” “Got it right here” was Maggie’s response, Misty amazed at the brute strength of the 13 year old to pull it out of the jungle herself and place it a few feet away from them. “But we gotta hurry, it took me a while and I carried it past at least 10 cameras” Maggie added. Misty nodded, grabbed the raft with one hand, paddle in the other and canteen squeezed between her arm and ribs. The two started into a slow jog as they made it across the hundred yards of sand leading to the shore. Their eyes narrowed and they looked at each other in fear as they saw the camera at the shore zoom in on them. That zoom could only mean one thing.

“He’s awake!” Maggie let out in a hushed scream. The pair looked all around, relieved that he wasn’t nearby but knew their next steps had to be quick. They dropped the raft in the water, Misty holding onto it to let her younger friend on, then gently pushed off the shore, setting her paddle on top of the raft and grabbing Maggie's hand to climb on. The two paddled backward like mad, facing the shore. They searched for any sign of life at camp but only saw a dark shoreline for the longest time until they saw it, the figure of an old man. His hands were on his hips and he looked exhausted but...pleased? 

Then it all came together in her head. She had played into everything he wanted her to do. She recalled the long monologues he spouted off at lunch on Sundays about how kids these days don’t think for themselves, don’t know the value of hard work, and don’t know how to make anything for themselves. Her and Maggie had done all that. Some part of her felt both sick that she did what he wanted to do but also relieved that she was free. The same part of her that was feeling sick also knew he wouldn’t come after them.

She could dream of her future tonight and that’s just what she planned to do. “I don’t think he’s coming after us Mags” Misty said while yawning. Maggie replied “I know, I just hope someone is looking for us.” Misty then laid down, looking at the bright full moon that just happened to be out tonight, knowing her parents were looking at the same moon missing her. As she drifted off to sleep looking at the stars and the moon she fell asleep with hope. Hope that she would be found, hope that she would see her parents and sister again, and hope that her creator truly had not forgotten about her.