The heat of the sun woke Peter from his slumber, heating up his face like a frying pan. Relief came, however temporarily, from the water that came and splashed upon his face. Unfortunately, his mouth was open, and he quickly spat out the foul tasting water. As he sat up, he felt that his pants were filled with sand.
“Bollocks” he mumbled grumpily.
He quickly got to his feet, regretting this when the dizziness came on. After holding his head tightly for a few seconds, the dizziness was gone, and he could take in his surroundings.
He was standing on a beach, at the point where the waves came out and kissed his toes. The sun lit up the sand, burning into Peter’s eyes.
One minute later, Peter’s eyes had adjusted and he could take a proper look around.
Much to his shock, everything he saw was beautiful. The water was almost see-through, and the sand was white. The beach seemed to stretch on for miles and miles. Turning around and facing away from the water, Peter saw what looked like a jungle in front of him. It started off with tiny little bushes, and the progressed into great trees towering high above the ground, promising safety from the kiss of the sun.
Peter quickly began running to this shade, not knowing how long he’d been exposed or whether he’d been burnt yet. The air in the shade was dense, and very warm. It was here that Peter first realised his thirst. His mouth was dry, and he felt short of breath.
He began to walk further into the jungle, often being attacked by flies and vines that hung down from the trees.
As he got further in, the sound of waves crashing was replaced by the eerie silence of the jungle. Occasionally a twig would snap as an animal ran through, but Peter took no notice. His need for water had grown so strong that he was beginning to ignore his senses.
His eyes were beginning to close as he dragged his feet. He was no longer looking or listening, just walking, ready to pass out at any second.
Peter’s feet slipped on something and his body came crashing down. He landed dead centre in a puddle of mud and couldn’t believe his misfortune.
“Argh, goddamnit!” he yelled, “mud!”
Then suddenly it clicked.
“Wait, mud? There must be water nearby!”
Peter rushed to his feet and pushed on, the promise of water urging him forward. As his senses came rushing back, he easily made out the sound of a nearby stream.
“These bushes are too damn thick, I can’t see anything!”
Using his arms, he pulled two bushes apart enough for him to squeeze his body through and get to the other side.
To his delight, the stream of water that he had been searching for was right in front of him.
Dropping to his knees, he tried to cup the water with his hands, but they didn’t provide enough water. Instead, he threw his head into the water and collected as much as he could, swallowing it down greedily. He continued this for five minutes, before looking around and noticing that he was not the only one there.
All along the stream were men, women and children from the Reliant. Peter quickly assumed that they had all been thirsty and made their way to the stream.
A little less than 100 metres away, Peter could clearly make out Roger trying to organise things. Peter quickly made his way along the stream to offer his hand in organising everyone.
“Roger, it’s Peter. What do you need me to do?”
“You could start by explaining to these folks that I ain’t no crazy black man, and they should listen to me”
YOU ARE READING
The Lost YearsAction
After being attacked and shipwrecked on an unknown island in the Pacific, a mixture of sailors, civilians and convicts find themselves faced with the possibility of never being rescued. In a land with no rules and no responsibilities, man begins to...