Jay, Age 14
Sam sat up, woken up by the ocean's gentle touch. Looking around, he
recognized his surroundings from his Map-reading courses. He was stranded on
Mengalive Isle, in the middle of the Pacific ocean.
He heard a rustling in the tropical bushes, and instinctively put his
hand down to his hip, feeling for the silenced gun which wasn't there.
Looking around, he found it a few feet from his head. Fortunately, his
ammo-reloads were still in his waterproof chest pouch, along with a few boxes
of matches, a lighter, some cigarettes and a compass.
Strapping his gun to his holster, he stood up and looked around. All he
saw was the debris of his ship, the SS Omega, still floating on the water's
surface about a mile off shore.
Suddenly, a blaze caught his eye. he quickly wheeled towards the
movement, drawing his gun. Off in the distance, a few miles away, someone was
burning something. Looking around, the smaller-then-average-height
brown-haired man thought "Whatever is over there has to be better than what
is here," and started to walk towards the fire.
Tom lay unconscious, his head resting on a raised patch of sand. Waking,
his hand shot up to his blonde hair, checking for blood. He sat up, his army
dog-tags clinking together.
Picking up his bag, Tom checked his supplies. He had a pair of High tech
Binoculars, some rope, a can of gasoline, an inflatable raft, a hunting knife
and a tent.
Trying to remember how he ended up on this island, Tom sat down. Picking
up his binoculars, he scanned the horizon for any ships. Nothing in sight,
except for some debris of his old ship.
Suddenly, a rush of memories reentered his head. Tom and the rest of the
crew of the SS Omega, an Army-based secret operations ship, were on their way
to a breakaway Russian republic, Kreplakistan, to search for secret nuclear
weapons the US government had reason to believe were there. All was calm,
until all of a sudden a heat-seeking missile was detected heading towards
them. Within a minute, all was gone. That was the last thing Tom remembered.
A sudden burst of flame caught his eye, so Tom turned towards it. "It must
be Sam or Frank." He thought. "I'd better start walking."
With that, Tom picked up his bag and began jogging towards the source of
the flame.
As suddenly as the flame started, it disappeared. Frank, running at full
speed now, stopped abruptly. A small figure in the distance seemed to be
moving quickly. Frank quickly put the Tech-Scope to his eye, and, zooming in,
saw Sam.
"Yes," thought Frank, "he's alive!"
Running towards the nonexistent flame, Sam stopped. Catching his breath,
he paused to look around. Taking a quick glance behind him, he saw a speeding
Frank less then five hundred feet behind him. He began to run backwards, to
meet his shipmate and longtime friend.
When finally the two caught up with each-other, they slapped palms both
above and below, the handshake of those onboard the SS Omega, which they
refer to as the Omegaron.
The two quickly exchanged what happened to them. They then combined
inventories, and pooled what few items they had. They began to slowly jog
towards the now-smoking area of the beach.
All they needed now was to find Tom.