Back where we belong

Marooned

The turbulence is making you sick, bumping up and down up and down. You make your way down from the aisle where you got a little bottle of water, back to your seat at the front of the plane.

"How we doing?"

"Not good, kid. I don't see 'em anywhere."

You sit and wait, feeling the plane shake against the rain and wind, looking out the window and thinking.
Finally, an idea.

"Let me down once the storm dies a little."

You speak.

"What?! Kid are you insane?"

"I just might be."

The plane falls silent.
Sully sighs.

"Alright fine. But take a walkie-talkie, so you can keep me posted."

You smile and look over to Sully.

"Thanks."

He smiles.

"No problem kid."

You light a cigarette and sit back in your seat, taking a puff.

⛈⛈⛈⛈⛈⛈

You hop out of the plane's doorway.

"Alright kid I'm taking off. Got your flares? What about that walkie-talkie?"

"Sully I'm fine. I'll see you soon."

He chuckles.

"I'll see you around kid!"

He then closes the door. The plane starts and takes off, leaving you alone on the barren island, being bombarded with rain.

"Let's do this."

You start on your journey along the beach, searching for footprints or any clues at all of Nathan and Sam.
You jump over rocks and fallen trees scattered along the beach. This sure is one bitch of a storm. You think to yourself. You peer around, desperately searching for any shoe tracks when all of a sudden, out of the rain, you see Sam and Nate's boat, smashed in half.

"Shit shit shit shit!"

You run towards the smashed boat and broken pieces of wood, hoping to god that neither Nate nor Sam are inside.
You sigh of relief, but you're still worried. They could be anywhere.
You think to yourself. You run around the shattered boat, still searching. You come across an opened and emptied supply box. Finally. A sign that they've been here. You get up and run across the beach, looking for some tracks. You see some tracks that look like they're from hiking shoes, so naturally you follow them up to a rock wall.

"Well, shit."

You mumble to yourself. You begin to climb, clenching against every hand hold you can get, your feet slipping with every move. You finally reach the top, and run.

"Sam?! Nate?!"

You call, running along, trying not to slip in the blinding rain. You climb up another wall, trying not to slip and fall to your death. You shuffle against the rock wall along a ledge.
It cracks.