The Island (revived) - IC
Warm water dragged at her feet as the young woman struggled to open her eyes. Her whole body ached and she tasted sand in her mouth. She heard the cries of seagulls as she slowly rose to her knees. Her hair was tangled and coarse from what she knew by scent was saltwater. Lifting her eyes, she gazed all around.
She was on a beach. She could see palm trees... a jungle beyond... cliffs... a mountain...
She struggled to remember what had happened.
Her name was Maria Lopez.
She was 23 years old.
Six months ago she had murdered her husband and her best friend savagely.
She remember her cell door opening... men in SWAT gear... a needle in her arm...
What the hell was going on?
She stood up, studying herself. She was wearing camoflage cargo pants, boots and a white tank top.
Nearby she saw a large crate with a piece of paper on the side.
Getting up slowly, she realized there were other people laying in the sand as well. They were breathing so she focused on the crate and the paper.
She read the paper...
Then she read it again...
by the third time she was breathing fast, her heart was hammering and she started swearing under her breath rapidly in Spanish:
Welcome to The Island
You have been sent here because you are a convicted felon who means nothing to society anymore. The prisons are too full to accomidate you, so you are among the ones chosen to be sent here to die.
The Island is completely deserted. No buildings, no power, no running water.
Everything you have : food, water, shelter, tools, weapons, must be either ones you made yourself or something that you managed to scavenge from one of the few parachute drops that will be made from time to time.
During the day you will fight to survive against satarvation and the elements, not to mention the other inmates.
But that is nothing compared to what you will be facing at night.
Thank you for your participation in this new level of incarceration and death sentence.
We hope you enjoy your final days with us...
Maria stood shock still, terrified of what she had just read.
This couldn't be real... it couldn't be... this was a dream... a nightmare...
The crate held some basic stuff : water bottles, packages of crackers, some extra clothes, blankets, a few bandages, boxes of matches, pocket knives...
There was some more, but as she was digging through the stuff Maria heard the groaning of another inmate. The rest of the inmates were men which made her distinctly uncomfortable, especially since she had no idea what they were arrested and convicted for.
Grabbing one of the knives, a pack of crackers, a box of matches and a water bottle, stuffing them into the pockets of her cargo pants as fast as she could, she grabbed one of the blankets and backed away from the crate, keeping her eyes on the other inmates and her body tensed to run.