Eric+R

** __Chapter 1: Crash Landing__ **
 * __//Survival of the Fittest//__**

 “Hey! It’s a ship,” screamed Eric at the top of his lungs when he spotted a distant dot on the thin horizon. “Spencer, Dylan, Lauren, we are saved! We made it through!”

Unfortunately, for the four of them, this island retreat was not planned. Originally, they were on a flight that was scheduled from Miami, Florida to Australia. Eric Roberts was an athlete who was traveling to Australia to pick up specialty made kangaroo slippers for his wife, whom he loved with every fiber in his 6’2 210 pound body. Spencer was a small man, no taller than 5’5 who was socially awkward and only had one passion, which was science. He was a very well known biologist who was planning on going to Australia to see how the plants behaved in accordance to the climate. Dylan, a man who many people thought just lived in the bush unemployed, was actually a famous tour guide. He had his own business and often taught lessons on survival techniques. His long bushy beard and pony tail helped tell the story of his career. The only female who was left to survive on this deadly, unforgiving island was a young, beautiful girl named Lauren who was working as the stewardess on board flight 123 that horrifying night.

 Ding!

“Excuse me, miss,” Eric says as he tries to read the name bar on Lauren’s shirt, “how long do these flights usually last? I love the cartoons but I really just want to land and stretch these over sized legs out. Possibly go for a little jog; maybe throw some shrimp on the Barbie, if you know what I mean.”

“Uhhhh, yes I do, sir. We should be landing in about an hour, just as long as nothing goes wrong.”

 “Keep it down up there, will you? I’m trying to sleep,” yells Spencer from a few seats behind Eric.

 “Excuse me passengers, sorry to bother you, but we seem to be traveling through a gigantic flock of birds. Please roll your window covers down if you are easily disturbed,” warns the pilot just before the plane started to shake.

The co-pilot nervously whispers to the pilot, “What is going on? It feels as if we are losing power.”

“I think the birds are clogging up our engines. I.. I don’t know what to do. We //are// going down. Prepare the passengers for emergency landing. I will try and get us as close to that small island as possible that way any survivors can try to desperately make their way over.”

“This is an emergency. All passengers are to reach under their seats and grab the life vests. Put it on like a normal vest, and once we hit water pull the small red lever that looks like an upside down T. Good-luck.”

 The fluctuating tone in the co-pilots voice was all that Dylan needed to know nothing good was about to come. Just as the plane started to descend down the dark path to the ocean, which was looking like a vast sheet of black cement, all Eric could think about was his wife. The only reason why he was still alive today was because of her. A few years back, Eric was stuck in a hopeless struggle with a drug addiction. His life was made a slave to cocaine. As an athlete, he was continuously harassed on energy levels and how we needed an advantage on the other players. Unfortunately, a slimy drug dealer caught him at a time of despair and got him hooked. Just months after his first hit, Eric was desperately stealing from family and, eventually, quit playing hockey. Luckily, that’s when his wife Jen turned him around and got him off the white. Essentially, she was the only reason why he decided to get up everyday, so in a time of life or death he chose to think of her.

 Splash! The plane landed in a fiery, spinning cylinder of metal and cargo.

“My baby, where is my baby?” cries a passenger, as Spencer crawled out of the broken window of the plane. Once outside of the plane, all he could see were shards of scrap metal which had been torn off due to the extreme pressures of the water. As he reached for a giant piece of metal, which looked capable of holding his weight, he noticed no one else outside the plane but Dylan. Dylan was floating by his floatation vest in the ice cold water, slowly drifting away from Spencer’s eye sight. Eric and Lauren on the other hand were still inside the plane searching, desperately hoping to find other living humans. The plane was lifeless. Eric, Spencer, Dylan, Lauren, and the old lady who had lost her baby, were the only ones who had survived the horrible crash. Sadly, the old lady was starting to turn blue from the ice cold water which was slowly started to fill the plane inch by inch. Eric and Lauren then left the plane behind and started for the island, which seemed to get further away as they drifted towards it, sharing a piece of scrap metal, holding each other as if they had known each other for years, trying to stay warm. Once they finally reached the island, they climbed on shore and started for the forested area which would provide them with limited shelter in case it rained that night.

 Just before they hopelessly struggled under a group of trees, Spencer calls out, “wait up. I survived as well.” Shortly after Spencer’s cry of misery, Dylan floated on shore carrying a bag, which looked to be his luggage.

 “Hey guess what, I found my survival kit, funny eh.” Dylan was the only one who was able to relate humor to a situation like this but surprisingly it helped Eric, Spencer and Lauren get their minds off the atrocious crash that caused many casualties.

**__Chapter 2: Survival Strategies__**  “So, what is in that mysterious canvas bag of yours?” Eric demands, as Dylan stumbles on shore.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “You will never guess. I have collected all the necessary items for survival. Thank goodness I brought this survival kit along with me as my carry on. Everyone always told me that I’m crazy for always carrying it. In their faces now,” laughs Dylan, as he meticulously starts removing the various items from the tattered old bag. “I have a tarp, first aid kit, knife, rope and a mirror.”

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “How did you fit a tarp in a bag like that with all those items?” Lauren inquisitively implies like a judge.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Well you see, what I did was, I tightly rolled it up and then tied this thick rope around it so it can fit inside an average sized shoe box that way I can bring it along with me. I’m not a buffoon. I am a survival guide, don’t you forget. Also I got past security with the knife because it isn’t a metal knife; it’s made of shark bone. Just as durable but half the weight and undetectable by using metal detectors. I am truly a genius. Please, no autographs today, I’m here all week.”

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Well then, let’s get our camp set up. Unfortunately, we are going to have to sleep under the same inept tent for protection. That means we are going to have to cuddle up. If anyone objects they will be sleeping outside.” Explains Eric, as he plans the living quarters.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> The next few days were full of furious arguments and planning on how the camp would be set up. Since they were Dylan’s supplies, he argued that he should have the final say in every decision. Lauren cried that she should be in charge since she was the only female. Spencer, on the other hand, complained that he had the highest education; therefore he should be in charge. Lastly, Eric thought he should be in charge because he was a natural born leader.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> Finally, before they all started fighting, Eric devised a plan that would, at last, decide a leader that will have the final vote in any tied arguments. Everyone was to choose a leader but you couldn’t choose yourself. Each person would have four stones. If you wanted Lauren as leader, you would leave down one stone. Dylan, two stones, Spencer, three and Eric was all four. Each member would then turn their backs to each other and on the count of three, stand up and leave down how many stones you wanted which in turn represented each person.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Three, two, one, everyone stand up!” screams Eric, as he too is rapidly getting up.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Four stones, four stones, two stones, four stones,” counts Spencer in embarrassment, for he had no votes. “Just like at home, no one likes me.” He said under his breath.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Well, I guess we have a winner,” Lauren explains as she blushes when she notices Eric is glancing at her.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “I am truly honored. Thank you for choosing me. I will do my best to run this camp in a way that you all will enjoy. But before all else, let’s get prepared for this storm that is about to come. I can see the dark clouds slowly approaching over the horizon. Let’s make sure that tarp is fully secured and let’s reinforce the water proofing with some of those coconut tree leaves. Dylan, use your knife to cut down the branches and the rest of us will gather them and strategically place them on the tarp to aid in protection.”

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Sure thing, Captain.”

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Also, Lauren you can help by collecting as many coconuts as you can. We will need food and water. As we eat the meat, leave the shells under branches to catch the fresh water run-off from the rain. Although we are surrounded by water, it is undrinkable.”

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> They did the best they could to prepare for the storm, but this wasn’t an ordinary storm. This storm was sent by a higher being to test the group and see if they were truly capable of survival. Thunder shook the whole island and sent roaring waves crashing against the shore. Lightening lit up the sky as if someone were quickly turning on and off the lights. Buckets of water were being released from above, drenching everything. Wind howled as if trying to torment the group. The only thing the group could do was huddle up for warmth and pray that they would survive. Eric and Lauren were talking trying to keep each other calm but the screaming of the storm prohibited quiet talking. They were forced to yell at each other which didn’t help in the calming process.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> Once the storm was over, the group collected all branches and coconuts that had been ripped off the trees. Dylan also was working on starting a fire using the powerful sun and his little pocket mirror.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> A few months had passed, which allowed the group to establish how they were going to survive. Dylan was in charge of fires. He was the fire chief. Lauren gathered coconuts and other berries that grew on the isolated island. Spencer’s duty was to fish and hunt. He, along with Eric, had made several spears for piercing the flesh of the wild pigs and fish. Surprisingly, Spencer was a natural killer and brought in about one pig and two fish per week, which made dinners a lot more wholesome. Eric, as leader, ran the group. Whenever one member would slack off, he would get them re-focused. He also was in charge of keeping the tarp in reasonable shape. For a group of four individuals brought together by a tragedy, they were doing alright.

**__Chapter 3: Final Good-Byes__** <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> As time went on, the group started to become one with the Island, which had brought them all together. Each member was starting to interpret the island in different ways. Dylan, as elected fire chief, was able to carefully select what type of fire he would like to create and how angry that fire would become. Lauren was able to pick out the best fruit and coconuts from all over the lifeless island. Spencer was indulging himself in the vast wilderness, soaking in all the information of all the different life forms that inhabited the island. Lastly, Eric could tell if a storm was on its way two days before it came, which aided in the protection from the howling wind and raging rain. Each member had their own specialty, which contributed to the survival of the group.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Hey guys!” screamed Dylan gleefully, as he spots a new group of trees on top of a high cliff, “those trees would be perfect for firewood. We would have firewood for weeks!”

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “That guy is obsessed with fires. He is a true pyromaniac,” whispers Lauren under her breath.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “That’s absolutely delightful. You should go gather all the wood you can while the three of us gather some garnishes for a feast tonight,” screams Spencer back to Dylan.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> Unfortunately for Dylan, he took on a task too great for just one man. But being the survival maniac that he is, he decided to go alone to the top of the jagged peak where none of them have laid footprints.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Please try to hurry Dylan, it is going to be dark soon and the winds are picking up. If you don’t hurry you may be stranded alone on the needle point peak,” demands Eric, as he is preparing the tent for the days end.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> Dylan’s journey was a true test of character. If he is able to complete the task and bring home the firewood, it could possibly create the biggest fire yet. If he fails he could potentially end up killing himself.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> It started out like any walk would start out. He had a few branches to carefully climb over and a couple boulders to squeeze by. But this was just the Islands way of analyzing his skill set. Within ten minutes, the hills became steeper, boulders bigger and branches nastier. The trees hung down as if to capture him in their branches. Wind whistled a deathly tune every step of the way. The trek tormented him by showing him the destination just before sending him down a deep gorge which inhibited him to glance at the beautiful trees. Streams ran wild as if they were trying to escape the top of the islands peak.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “This is unbelievable. I’ve never seen anything like this on any of my other tours. This is starting to freak me out a little,” whimpers Dylan. “Maybe I should turn back. After all it’s just a few trees. I don’t //need// the trees, I just //want// them. NO! What am I thinking? I cannot turn back. This is a true test of everything I have learnt. I need this to see if I still have got it in me. Let’s go gather those trees.”

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> Just as Dylan neared the top of the peak, he chose a faulty foot hole.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Crack!” goes the edge of the cliff due to Dylan’s weight.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> Piece after piece of rock was beginning to let go of each other causing a rock slide with Dylan amongst the rubbish.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Help! Help! I need help!” desperately screams Dylan while falling down the vertical slope.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Did you hear that?” Eric questions, right after Dylan’s fall.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “I think I saw a rockslide,” explained Spencer wearily, “Eric, Lauren, we better go check things out. Dylan may be seriously injured.”

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> As they made their way over to Dylan, his screams became louder, allowing the group to carefully navigate their way towards him.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “My leg! My leg is broken. The pain is unbearable. Get me back to the huts please.”

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Spencer, grab his thighs. Lauren, you grab an arm. Let’s carry this guy back and get some fluids inside of him.”

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> Surprisingly the trip back to the huts seemed relatively shorter than the trip to Dylan. The unnecessary weight of the thoughts he could have been dead was lifted off their shoulders allowing them to swiftly pass through the unforgivable terrain.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “In 3 days will be the beginning of clearest week of the year. Let’s gather all the shrubs as possible and put all our efforts into one last shot at survival. We will make the nastiest fire we have ever created which, if it is meant to be, will allow us to be rescued,” commanded Eric in discontent. “Who’s in?”

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “I am,” said Spencer shyly, as if he was only saying yes to please the group.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Me too,” agreed Lauren.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Let’s do this!” cheered Dylan, as if he had never been injured.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> The next few days were based on bringing in as many flammable items as possible. What ever could be burnt, they brought to the pile. <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> Without hesitation, the group lifted the pocket mirror together and lit the gigantic pile on fire. Smoke as high as business buildings shot up above them. The blue sky turned grey and the smell of sea salts was masked by the smell of charcoal. The smoked danced to and fro with the wind making swirls in the air for entertainment, while the group hopelessly awaited rescue.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> The somewhat cohesive group, were starting to become restless just before they saw a shining light come over the horizon. An angel perhaps, sent to collect the bodies of the group, for their techniques had failed. To the surprise of every individual, it was the coast guard.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Hey! It’s a ship,” screamed Eric at the top of his lungs when he spotted a distant dot on the thin horizon. “Spencer, Dylan, Lauren we are saved! We made it through!”

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “Vrooom,” sounded the engines as the boat crashed on shore.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “You saved us. We made it!” cried Eric, as tears ran down his dirty cheeks. “We have been on this island for about four seasons. Roughly a year and we finally made it through.”

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> “You all better get on the boat. Ill bring you back to the station where you can get some rest,” explained the coast guard.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> Just as the boat propelled back through the waters the group realized they were missing one member. As they rushed on the boat in excitement, they never realized Spencer stayed behind. It wasn’t that they had forgotten him on the island but that he chose he was better accepted by the wild than by society. He was a biologist whom was married to his work and was often criticized for no reason. As the three surviving members sailed off to what they thought was a better life, Spencer saw it as a boat drifting to the gates of hell while he was on his own island, perfectly secluded in his own joyful ways of life; his paradise.