Terraverde

Darkness was beginning to fall on the small island colony of Terraverde. Dark cumulonimbus clouds stretched and encompassed the whole island, bringing a sense of doom and dread to the small island colony. A small gale began to sway the trees, and blow through the glass, and the unmistakable scent of petrichor began to  penetrate the nostrils of the small group of inhabitants camped out on the island. A storm was coming, and it was coming fast. 

There wasn’t much in the way of human life within the lush jungle that made up the roughly fifty square kilometers of French territory, but animal life was bursting at the seams. Endemic species spanning birds, small animals and insects, oh the insects. You could spit anywhere on the island

of Terraverde and you’d hit a couple dozen bugs.

The island had been under French control silently earlier in the nineteenth century, as part of their empirical and colonial peak, and was mostly forgotten due to its lack of natural resources besides wood. The harsh jungle conditions were hard to navigate for even the best explorers, and many expeditions into the jungle were rendered futile. For the small part of the island not overgrown with trees and brush to the brim, lies a small but surprisingly developed village. A small airport, mostly serving as a fueling station and military lookout, was in the middle, surrounded by a few smaller buildings. 

The thing about Terraverde is that most people didn’t know that it existed, it was one small island amongst thousands or maybe millions more in the pacific that flew under the radar of the average person. It stayed quiet, and without visitors due to its conditions, until a small group of Americans blew into the south end of the island on a small life raft. 

The five of them had been struck with a hurricane which had come out of nowhere, off the coast of New Zealand, leaving them stranded on a small lifeboat for several days.

That was until the fateful day they washed ashore the island of Terraverde.

It was early in the morning when they washed ashore, the five of them were sleeping soundly, however their hunger gnawed at their stomach and kept their energy levels low.

Sarah was the first passenger to awaken.

She was a blonde girl with short cargo shirts, a white tee shirt, which had been darkly stained brown at this point, and glasses with cracked lenses. She was lucky they hadn’t broken in the storm because she was practically blind as a bat without them. She got up to her knees and began to wake up her shipmates. 

Trevor was first, or the de facto group leader. He had helped them over the course of the past few days, catching fish and rationing their water supply until they had officially ran out late last night. 

When he got up a puzzled expression clouded his face. 

“I didn’t see any land when I went to sleep,” he murmured. “How could I have missed it?”

“Don’t matter,”Shane said, the class clown in a sense. Shane was from Seattle, meaning that anytime it got above seventy degrees he thought he was going to melt. His longer dirty blonde hair fell messily around his head like a mop. Over the past couple of days he had to push it out of his face constantly. “We got here.”

“Let's just hope there isn’t a cannibal colony here,” Trevor said, wrinkles beginning to form on his face. His coffee brown skin had gotten even darker over the course of their journey through the ocean. 

The last two members of their group were Savann), a younger blonde girl who had a face dotted with freckles as well as Davis, also younger about nineteen with short brown hair.q

“She said, pushing her hair out of her face.

Her blonde hair, which was normally tucked into a ponytail, was now crazy and unkempt. It was extremely frizzy and wet from the rain, and since she had lost her hair tie a few days ago, it would have to stay that way. 

Quickly the group made landfall, discovering the small settlement, looking for any signs of life. They noticed a building labeled airport, hoping it could be a way back home. Quickly, they pushed their way into the small airport building, which seemed mostly abandoned. 

A small staff room which had three men sitting around, packing their belongings.

One of the men, a younger guy who looked to be about twenty, began speaking rapid fire French at the group.

“Sorry,” Trevor said smiling, “We only speak english.”

A look of familiarity flashed across one of the men’s faces, who quickly shushed his coworker, and extended his arm out to them. 

“I speak English,” one man said, approaching them quickly. He looked to be in his late forties, dark beard, tired eyes and average height. “How did you get to this island?”

Davis quickly stepped forward and met the man’s dark, cold gaze. 

“We were out on a friend's boat, fishing,” Davis said. “We got hit by a storm that came out of nowhere, which sank us. Only the five of us survived on a small lifeboat. We haven’t eaten or drank anything for almost two days.”

The younger coworkers opened the fridge as if on cue, which was full of cold cuts, cheese and milk. 

“I think we may be able to accommodate that,” the man said, smiling. 

After some raiding of the fridge, and some light small talk, the man continued to speak with them. 

“Lucky for you, we have one last plane going out this year,” the man said somewhat cheerfully, although his face didn’t match his voice. His face still seemed stuck in a permanent scowl. “You caught us at just the right time. If you had washed ashore just hours later, this place would have been abandoned.”

He had introduced his other coworkers as well, Jean was the younger one and Luc was the one who was a bit older. 

“This place isn’t inhabited year round?” Trevor asked, looking confused. 

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” the man said, itching his hair and looking back and forth through the five americans. “It’s the weather essentially.”

“I can handle a little rain,” Shane said scoffing. “I’m from Seattle after all.”

“We must work fast, it’s not just a sprinkle,” the man said, urgency beginning to rise in his voice. This isn’t some small rainstorm, this is something that could wipe out everything on the island.”

“What do you mean,”whimpered Savannah. “How bad is it going to get?” The group felt the first real sense of danger ever since they got on the island. 

“Shush, no time to explain," the man said, nodding to one of his coworkers. The younger coworker muttered a string of words into the headset that was wrapped around his head quickly. The rest of the airport personnel began to look increasingly worried. 

Luc nodded, “Plane is almost ready,” he said in his broken english.”

“It sure is getting dark out there,” Davis noted, looking at the ever increasing darkness of the clouds. When the five of them had arrived on the island, the clouds were about the color of cement, they appeared much darker now, closer to being black than gray. “I don’t think I've ever seen clouds look like that.

“That's not a good sign,” Harry said, slipping a headset onto his own head, and listening intently. 

“What’s wrong,” Savannah asked, pursing her lips at Harry. “What’s going to happen?”

Harry continued to ignore her, and began pacing back and forth, listening carefully.“Our plane is getting ready now,” Harry finished. Let’s go to the terminal. Luckily, unlike the airports many of the Americans had to be traveling, there was only one terminal and one gate, so there wasn’t much of an airport to get lost in. The gate had a single small TV on the wall playing an old nineties sitcom, and a few folding chairs either set up or propped against a wall. 

“We don’t have time to set up the ramp so we just have to pull out the stairs from the plane manually, and run outside,” Harry explained to the group. He nodded to an emergency exit.

“Whenever you’re ready, head out that door and run straight out to the plane. I wouldn’t wait long, the storm is coming.”

As he said that, Jean and Luc made no time opening the door and sprinting out into the rain, soon they disappeared into the rain.

The rest of them followed suit, not trying to waste any time. Harry made sure the five of them were all out the door before he started making two way through the rain.

The eight of them made a mad dash to the plane, as the rain began to pick up from a drizzle into a full out downpour, which impacted their visibility greatly.​​ The wind was whipping now, which made the rain pelt the group even harder. Savannah screamed, as the wind knocked her to the ground, one of the French workers, possibly Luc, was the first to make it to the plane, followed by Trevor and Davis. Both of them practically trampled over each other getting up the stairs. Sarah was next to the steps along with Harry, who motioned her to go up first. Sarah was having a hard time getting up the stairs, because she kept slipping down the metal steps. Her shoes were causing her to fall down over and over. 

Harry reached over and began to offer his hand to help, when a tree trunk flew past them, and knocked the stairway right off the plane. The rest of the group, besides Savannah, had reached the plane now. 

The doorway was a good seven to eight feet off the ground, way too high for the rest of them to reach. 

“Watch it,” Harry said, pushing some people out of the way. Harry began jumping and trying to grab the ledge, “Is anybody up there.”

His voice barely projected through the roaring winds and rainfall. 

“Look out,” Sarah said, pointing behind the group, as a giant stone bashed the side of the plane from behind. 

Trevor peeked his head out the plane and began reaching down his arms, and yelling for people to grab onto them. Sarah was jumping in a futile effort, she was still a good foot off. 

“I’ll try to find a rope or something,” Trevor yelled. As he disappeared back into the cabin of the plane, the plane began to move down the runway, ever so slightly. 

“It’s not started, the engine isn’t even on,” Harry said, "I think it’s the wind.”

It seemed like he was right. The plane moved slowly at first, but it quickly began spinning and moving out of control.

“Guys, get out of there,” Sarah screamed at the doorway. It looked like she was crying now. It was impossible to tell if there were tears or just raindrops dribbling down her distressed face. 

Davis appeared in the doorway, frightened look plastered on his face, he didn’t think twice about jumping out of the door.

“Where are the others?” “Sarah asked.

“I couldn’t get to the frenchmen who made it to the cockpit, they were too far away for me. Trevir disappeared as well, and looked like he was searching for something,” Davis recollected himself, panting. 

The plane was in full motion now, it began to tip over and move faster, barrel rolling down the runway. The wind began to pick the plane up, the wings helping it glide through the air. 

“We have to find shelter,” Harry said looking around. “We can't help them now. Their fates will be decided by the wind.

“Has anybody seen Savannah?” Sarah yelled, bawling her eyes out. 

Shane didn’t answer.

“I saw her fall way back there,” Davis answered. 

Harry nodded his head grimly. She was probably swept away from the storm. The three of them watched the plane get higher and higher for a couple seconds, then began running back to the airport.

“Does the airport have a storm shelter?” Shane asked. 

“Not one to withstand this storm,” Harry admitted. “The only place we have a chance is making it to the sewer. We have to stay underground, because everything above it will get ripped up. 

“How do we get there?” Davis said grimacing. 

“Right here,” Harry said, stopping suddenly. A small tunnel opened in the ground. “Let’s go before anything else happens. 

The four of them crept through the tunnel for what seemed like ages. 

“Where are we going?” Sarah asked after about ten minutes passed. They crawled deeper into the crevices of the island as time went on. 

Soon they came to a small room, a ladder was against the wall leading up to a manhole cover. 

“Let’s catch our breath shall we,” Harry said. The wind still whipped mercilessly above them, which was very unsettling.

“Should we worry about the storm up there,” Sarah asked, sitting on the ladder and pointing to the cover above her.

“Don't worry, manholes are practically unliftable,” Shane said. Right on cue, the manhole lifted, and the hole was completely open, it began sucking everything out of the small room

Sarah went flying out the hole right away, she didn’t have a chance to grab anything. As the rest of the group was pulled toward the manhole they grabbed onto the rungs of the ladder to avoid being pulled out. 

“We can’t stay here forever,” Shane cried, wrapping his limbs around the rungs and holding with all his strength. As quickly as the suction had started, it stopped. Something was blocking the hole.

“What happened,” Shane asked, trembling. 

“No time to figure it out,” Harry said quickly, “let’s get out of here before we get sucked out as well. 

The three of them continued until they reached the end of a storm drain, the drainage pipe, which had a large grate covering it. stood at the end of the tunnel. As the three of them looked on into the environment, it looked like the storm had stopped. The wind was no longer whipping through the grass, and the rain was back to just a small sprinkle. 

“What…happened,” Shane asked. “Is the storm done now?”

Davis looked out of the grate tentatively, still hobbling along on his ankle. “It looks safe.”

“Don't be fooled,” Harry said quickly. “We only made it through the first half of the storm, it looks like we’re in the eye right now.”

“What’s the eye?” Shane asked.

“It’s just a calm part in the middle of the storm,” Harry said, pulling the grate off of the pipe. “It's going to get much worse during the second half, but I think I have a way off of the island.”

“Where,” Shane asked, taking in their surroundings. It was all forest, the small village they had arrived at was long gone by now. 

“There’s a dock with a small boat not far from here, we can possibly make it if we have time. That’s our only hope.”

“How’s your ankle Davis?” Shane asked. 

“It hurts but i’ll live,” he retorted, shaking out his swollen purple blob of an angle. 

Despite the calmness of the air, it was still extremely dark and foggy which made it very hard to see. The only illumination the group had now was the ever increasing flashes of lightning, which of course were accompanied by the deafening booms of thunder right overhead. 

Soon enough the three survivors made it to the dock, and luckily by some miracle, the boat was still docked firmly, small waves lapping against its side. It wasn’t quite a yacht, but it had the look, and there was a roof at least, to stay out of the worst of the storm. 

“S.S. Pelican,” Shane scoffed. “What kind of name is that?”

“We don’t have time to waste,” Harry reminded him. “Help me with him.” 

The two of them quickly and gingerly helped Davis get on the watercraft safely, without injuring him further.

“I owe you guys one,” he said gratefully. “I don’t know how many people would have just left me behind.”

Shane’s face fell. He knew that feeling all too well. But they’d been through too much, they couldn’t leave each other behind now. Sticking together was the only chance they had of survival. 

Harry got on the boat, and Shane followed close behind, they all made their way to the steering wheel in the control room.

“Come on, baby work for me,” Harry said, slapping the steering wheel several times. “No no no.” He was struggling to turn the key in the ignition.

“This can’t be happening,” Shane said, his stomach falling. “The storm has to be starting again any minute.”

Harry cursed under his breath, and kicked the wall of the boat, which finally caused it to kick to life.

“Lucky break,” Davis said weakly from the floor. The watercraft slowly shifted into gear and started making its way away from the island.

A few minutes, as they glided through the open water, when finally somebody broke the silence.

“These storm clouds aren’t letting up,” Shane said looking around the boat. Davis was fast asleep, Harry kept his eyes focused on the water ahead of him.

“Everything alright Harry,” Shane asked. 

“No…no,” Harry mumbled. Shane jumped up to see what Harry was looking at, and when he saw it 

“It’s a tornado? In the middle of the ocean?” Shane asked wide eyed. Sure enough a whirling column of air was not too far off in the distance. 

“It’s a waterspout,” Harry corrected, “and it’s coming right for us.”