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Post by SETH FITZPATRICK on Nov 24, 2011 16:11:40 GMT -5
 Seth sat on a boulder on the beach, staring out at the ocean with a tranquil expression. Despite his serene outer appearance, he was in intense thought. He was actually stranded on an island? Really? His job required him to be prepared for situations like this, there must have been some information stored somewhere in his mind about what exactly he was to do next. He was alive, he wasn’t injured, this was good. He remembered the survival classes he had been required to take yearly… survival in the backwoods of Utah would be slightly different then survival on a deserted island. He pictured the survival manual sitting on his book shelf in his apartment then sighed as he remembered flipping over the section on “Surviving in the tropics” he also pictured his emergency kit sitting in the supply shed at work, filled with flashlights, batteries, matches, bandages and so on. Was it even possible to prepare for an emergency? The thought of it all caused him to curse and laugh all at once “Son of a…” he didn’t finish his sentence he simply trailed off as he finally broke his concentration and had a look around.
The basics of survival were all the same, he supposed he would do alright as long as he avoided eating anything strange. He got to his feet and started walking down the beach. Plenty of things had been washing up on shore on a daily basis. He wondered if he could find anything useful. A few yards away he noticed some luggage he jogged over and picked up one of the bags, opening it. Inside was a bunch of woman’s clothing, he dug a little deeper but didn’t find anything that would do him any good. He tossed the bag aside and picked up another one. This bag was nearly empty but much to his delight he found a bottle of hand sanitizer that could be used to start a fire. He shoved it in his pocket and set the bag aside. He wondered what the chances were that his own luggage had wound up on shore. He thought about what would be in his bag, fishing tackle, and a filleting knife came to mind first. Then he thought about the bottle of Jack Daniels, that would have tasted so good right about now.
Seeing nothing of any more use close by he continued down the shoreline a little further. Surely there were rescue parties scouring the ocean for survivors from the sunken ship. Then again maybe they were all assumed dead, maybe nobody even knew the Island existed. He shrugged, no sense thinking about that, it was time to focus on the here and now. Now was the time to look for supplies not for thinking about being rescued.
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Post by LUKE WESTON on Nov 27, 2011 18:59:04 GMT -5
Luke was walking down the southern beach with Emma. She was dessed in a pair of shorts and a tank top. Her aubun hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She grinned at Luke.
"Hey. At least we live in paradise" Luke joked with her. She giggled and nodded.
Their feet sank into the soft sand, leaving imprints behind. Luke gently tapped her on the nose and gave her an affectionate half hug. He often wondered about their chance at being rescued. He had hoped of course that they would. He missed being back home and working on the ambulance. Thankfully here though, his skills would be more than likely put to the test. He was kinda like a 'nurse' but a little different.
Luke glanced at Emma as she stopped and scooped up a seashell. If he had lost her, he didn't know what he would do. She was his whole world now, and he regarded her as his daughter.
He didn't care what eventually happened to him, but dear God let Emma thrive and live her full life.
As they neared down the beach more, Luke spotted another guy sitting. Luke smiled at him.
"Enjoying the beach too huh?" he asked softly.
They stopped a respectable distance from the guy. Emma remained standing by Luke watching everything with interest. Her parents died in that horrible accident, and now Emma was Luke's niece and responsibilty. He didn't care of course |
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