hunter6662009
11-02-2009, 02:58 PM
This is my story but im running out of ideas anyone here that can help me it would be apreciated email me at [email protected] or leave a post with ur sugestions thanks
The Island
By Toby Hughes
Chapter one: The Crash
Friday 13th 1970
I write this in the hope that someone will find it and know the truth. This might be my final entry; they keep closing in I still can’t believe it. Steve betrayed me, used me, to get to the head of the Japanese conglom-erate, a blackmail scheme that resulted in the sabotage of the plane we were all flying in Its all my fault.
My Name is Jason Gaunt I am a 46 year old builder with my own company from new York It has been thirteen years since I and twelve of my closest friends and work part-ners crashed on this deserted island, leaving me the only survivor. If I’d known then that this would happen, I would never have got-ten on to that dammed plane, but as every-one knows telepathy, is not a human strong point, and even if it were could we use it to prevent such disasters from happening? Anyway I’m getting off the subject.
It all started out normally enough. Cassan-dra, Liz, Peter, John, Sue, Kate, Jane, Jackie, jack, Steve, Tony, Chris and I had just landed the biggest deal in our com-pany’s history. Who would have thought it, a small building company landing a big job with one of the world’s biggest Japanese conglomerates?, The plane was booked for the following week and we had even man-aged to get Hans Vern, the best pilot in Western Germany. He’d been flying since he was sixteen and had never had a problem with his planes, so on the 13th of June, 1957, we all turned up at the airport, carefree and happy talking and laughing with each other as we made our way through the airport towards the terminal, as we approched we looked out the window and were able to see it Pacific Ocean flight 474 the most luxurious plane money could buy we wouldn’t just be traveling we’d be traveling in style we made our way down to the runway and met up with Hans it was a calm warm day and the smell of jet fuel was thick in the air
.
Hans informed us that a storm was on its way, but we didn’t care. By that time we would be in Japan, enjoying a drink before the big conference meeting that would send our company to new levels of business so we told him just to ignore it. Oh, god, I still think to this day if only I’d stopped them, if only I’d arranged the meeting for another day, they might still be with me.
That day, unfortunately, I didn’t, and so the plane took off and started toward Japan on what would be its final journey. In the passenger cabin we all relaxed in to the comfortable leather chairs a lucky luxury as Pacific Ocean had only just introduced them in to their planes they were so new in fact that there was still that new leather smell in the cabin and so we took it all in and started to have a few drinks to celebrate the on board bar had been stocked with the best drinks available . I decided to offer Hans a drink, so I went to the **** pit and asked him if he would like one feeling that he must be tired and need one by now. He declined saying that he never drank and flew, so I went back to the passenger cabin with my friends to carry on the party.
It was about fifteen minutes later that the plane began to shake violently. Hans came on over the radio, saying that it was just a bit of turbulence and that there was nothing to fear. Jane, on the other hand, was not as convinced as a few of my other friends were. She asked me to go and check it out for her.
On entering the cockpit, I could see that the sky was grey and looked very nasty. I sug-gested that we turn back and wait till clearer weather, but to Hans, this was an insult to his flying acumen, and after a quick chat with him, I was satisfied that he could get us through this safely. Apparently, he had flown through worse conditions before, and no little storm was going to ruin his perfect flying record., I should have forced him to turn back, done anything, but, no, I trusted his word that everything was going to be okay. That would turn out to be my biggest mistake.
No sooner had I returned to my seat and buckled in, than a flash of lightening filled the sky. Another flash and the wing disap-peared one final flash and the cockpit, along with Mr. Hans Vern, vanished also. Without a wing, the cockpit, and most im-portantly, the pilot, the plane began to roll spinning like a cork in a washing machine flames and smoke filled the cabin it was that thick that i could hardly breathe or see all that was visable were a few sparks from the wires that lead to were the cockpit used to be. The screams of the women still ring in my head to this day those of Sue, Kate, Jane, Jackie, Liz, and Cassandra, the most audible of them all.
Then everything went black. I awoke to find myself upside down in my seat in excruciat-ing pain cut and bleeding, the plane in bits its wreckage strewn along the beach, along with the bodies of my friends. That was the hardest and most saddening thing to see. They had trusted me and I had let them down., I unstrapped myself crawled over to each of them pain searing through my body with every movement and checked for life alas they were all dead , after resting for a few days to recover I gathered up all the bodies, found a nice spot and buried them. It was the least I could do for them. I was only able to mark the graves with pieces of the plane, because there was nothing else to use.
After burying my friends, I decided to ex-plore the island in hopes of finding some form of civilised life. It would take me a week many blisters and very sore tired feet to discover that I was completely alone on the island that I now had to call home.
Chapter Two: Starting a New Life
I had searched the island for people and found nothing and no one. I did, however, get to know it better half way through my search I had stumbled on a clearing close to the beach, perfect for building a shelter un-til I was rescued. A nice place with white sand and a crystal- clear, non-salty lake filled with fish from what I could see.
So I gathered up what I could from the wreckage. Luckily for me, some wood and a few crates of cement parts of the cargo we had been carrying had survived the crash., I was able to gather up enough to make a good shelter.
Whilst building, I was taken back to the first day I had started in the construction business. I had gone to college and com-pleted a course in building, like everyone else, and from there I started doing a few small development jobs, but I had always wanted to start my own business.
That was when I first met Steve, the man who would eventually become my head of finances. Whilst on a small house job, he, just like me, wanted to rise higher in the business but had nobody to help him off the ladder.
We were two guys who liked construction and had the ideas to take it further and so the business took off from there he taught me everything he knew and I did the same anyway thanks to Stevens help and knowledge I was able to create a good shelter in no time at all a little hut with a wall and an outhouse all the luxuries I could think of, to be honest it was Liz that really taught me that no matter what house you build there should always be luxuries just because I was alone on this island didn’t mean I had to suffer if only she was still here today.
Chapter Three: Survival
Over the next few months I started to make a good life for myself, I think that it was thanks to my friends that I didn’t go mad with loneliness, they had all been very good to m and given me good advice in the short time that I had known them, Peter and Kate had held the group together most of all they had been married for a few months before I met them at the company Christmas party they just like me wanted to rise up in con-struction so that they could buy their dream house and live a good life it’s a crime that their dream had to be cut short like that. After a few months I started to find out that even a beautiful tropical island can be a prison. A prison of sorts. For the fact of it all is, the tropics is a hot, humid, sweating place. Tropical islands, the kind with palm trees waving in the trade winds, are hard-scrabble, sandy, itchy, uncomfortable places unless you have an air conditioned hotel room, a cool shower, and fully-stocked bar to return to at the end of a day. You learn to sleep with sweat and mosquitoes and to fix big holes in your hut, and deal with problems that occur with your make shift plumbing. Paradise? Yeah, I suppose. I caught myself thinking a few times at least it’s not a New York suburbia. At least, at the end of the day, when i lie back in my bunk, still sweating and still dirty, at least i could say to myself, I’m not in suburbia.
Even though i had made a good life for my-self on the island i longed for a ship to ap-pear on the horizon it didn’t matter what kind of ship it was i just wanted to get home and let my family know that i was alright that i had survived the crash at that point i would have done anything to hold my wife again kiss my son goodnight but it was no good they were miles away and i was here
Chapter Four: Island Secrets
I had been on the island for two years and was living quite well but every night i dreamt that the next day a ship would sail in and take me back to civilisation i had no idea that my dream was about to come true well in part when i woke up that day there was more than just the smell of sweat and sea salt in the air i could smell smoke acrid and thick looking out of my hut i could see a thin line of smoke rising up from the beach immediately i ran to the beach one thought in my mind people finally people have landed here and I’ll be on my way home by lunchtime it was not to be as i saw when i reached the spot to find a charred and burned out shell of a boat still smoking on the shore upon closer inspection i found two burnt and mutilated bodies under the rubble a rustle in the bushes caused me to turn round and out from the brush fur singed and burnt in places bounded a huge black Labrador he ran right up to me then away and back up to me again, i looked were he kept running and I noticed trailing up the beach was blood, footprints, and singed clothing the black lab was trying to lead me somewhere so i got up and followed him in to the jungle on and on i walked it seemed i was walking forever but the dog kept on leading me further and further in to the jungle the sound of monkeys and birds rang in my ears but i was focused on following the dog and finding the wrecks occupants atleast then i would have company until rescue came suddenly through the trees loomed a crumbling ruin hung with vines and cobwebs mosaics and statues lay broken and scattered all over the place finding the people from the boat crash would be imposable
Chapter : The Hunt Begins
I got down to the beach and was about to greet them when I saw the logo on their shirts the triad biggest Japanese crime gang, I crept closer to hear what they were saying turns out that the head of the Japanese company we were heading to meet with Mr Fusao Katsuaki was the head of the triad also that’s what Steve was blackmailing him for so that meant the crash was no accident, from what they were saying they had heard that the plane had gone down thirteen years ago but nobody knew were the leader Ka-tsuaki had ordered the search for the re-mains to make sure there were no survivors after thirteen years they had almost given up and classed us all as dead and out of the way this ship was on its way home after checking up on a few business deals they had spotted my fire and decided to check it out i crept even closer my heart pounding in my chest until suddenly “SNAP” my foot hit a branch everyone looked up i was instantly spotted and had twelve guns pointed in my direction i turned and ran as the spot i had been standing was destroyed by gunfire and so i kept running dodging trees, vines and random bullets branches clawing at my legs cutting and bruising me with every step to add insult to injury the rain i had been waiting to come for weeks started making the ground wet and slippery whilst running for my life that was the last thing i needed, i was able to get away just and the next few days were spent hiding in trees, ducking down at the slightest russle or crack of a twig which brings me to where i started cold, wet, hungry and afraid for my life these people won’t stop untill im dead ive taken refuge in the ruins but im not sure how long i can go unseen i must find a way on to their ship so i can live to see my family again how long i can go on hiding here, oh no they’ve seen me oh god here they come, here they come.........................
The Island
By Toby Hughes
Chapter one: The Crash
Friday 13th 1970
I write this in the hope that someone will find it and know the truth. This might be my final entry; they keep closing in I still can’t believe it. Steve betrayed me, used me, to get to the head of the Japanese conglom-erate, a blackmail scheme that resulted in the sabotage of the plane we were all flying in Its all my fault.
My Name is Jason Gaunt I am a 46 year old builder with my own company from new York It has been thirteen years since I and twelve of my closest friends and work part-ners crashed on this deserted island, leaving me the only survivor. If I’d known then that this would happen, I would never have got-ten on to that dammed plane, but as every-one knows telepathy, is not a human strong point, and even if it were could we use it to prevent such disasters from happening? Anyway I’m getting off the subject.
It all started out normally enough. Cassan-dra, Liz, Peter, John, Sue, Kate, Jane, Jackie, jack, Steve, Tony, Chris and I had just landed the biggest deal in our com-pany’s history. Who would have thought it, a small building company landing a big job with one of the world’s biggest Japanese conglomerates?, The plane was booked for the following week and we had even man-aged to get Hans Vern, the best pilot in Western Germany. He’d been flying since he was sixteen and had never had a problem with his planes, so on the 13th of June, 1957, we all turned up at the airport, carefree and happy talking and laughing with each other as we made our way through the airport towards the terminal, as we approched we looked out the window and were able to see it Pacific Ocean flight 474 the most luxurious plane money could buy we wouldn’t just be traveling we’d be traveling in style we made our way down to the runway and met up with Hans it was a calm warm day and the smell of jet fuel was thick in the air
.
Hans informed us that a storm was on its way, but we didn’t care. By that time we would be in Japan, enjoying a drink before the big conference meeting that would send our company to new levels of business so we told him just to ignore it. Oh, god, I still think to this day if only I’d stopped them, if only I’d arranged the meeting for another day, they might still be with me.
That day, unfortunately, I didn’t, and so the plane took off and started toward Japan on what would be its final journey. In the passenger cabin we all relaxed in to the comfortable leather chairs a lucky luxury as Pacific Ocean had only just introduced them in to their planes they were so new in fact that there was still that new leather smell in the cabin and so we took it all in and started to have a few drinks to celebrate the on board bar had been stocked with the best drinks available . I decided to offer Hans a drink, so I went to the **** pit and asked him if he would like one feeling that he must be tired and need one by now. He declined saying that he never drank and flew, so I went back to the passenger cabin with my friends to carry on the party.
It was about fifteen minutes later that the plane began to shake violently. Hans came on over the radio, saying that it was just a bit of turbulence and that there was nothing to fear. Jane, on the other hand, was not as convinced as a few of my other friends were. She asked me to go and check it out for her.
On entering the cockpit, I could see that the sky was grey and looked very nasty. I sug-gested that we turn back and wait till clearer weather, but to Hans, this was an insult to his flying acumen, and after a quick chat with him, I was satisfied that he could get us through this safely. Apparently, he had flown through worse conditions before, and no little storm was going to ruin his perfect flying record., I should have forced him to turn back, done anything, but, no, I trusted his word that everything was going to be okay. That would turn out to be my biggest mistake.
No sooner had I returned to my seat and buckled in, than a flash of lightening filled the sky. Another flash and the wing disap-peared one final flash and the cockpit, along with Mr. Hans Vern, vanished also. Without a wing, the cockpit, and most im-portantly, the pilot, the plane began to roll spinning like a cork in a washing machine flames and smoke filled the cabin it was that thick that i could hardly breathe or see all that was visable were a few sparks from the wires that lead to were the cockpit used to be. The screams of the women still ring in my head to this day those of Sue, Kate, Jane, Jackie, Liz, and Cassandra, the most audible of them all.
Then everything went black. I awoke to find myself upside down in my seat in excruciat-ing pain cut and bleeding, the plane in bits its wreckage strewn along the beach, along with the bodies of my friends. That was the hardest and most saddening thing to see. They had trusted me and I had let them down., I unstrapped myself crawled over to each of them pain searing through my body with every movement and checked for life alas they were all dead , after resting for a few days to recover I gathered up all the bodies, found a nice spot and buried them. It was the least I could do for them. I was only able to mark the graves with pieces of the plane, because there was nothing else to use.
After burying my friends, I decided to ex-plore the island in hopes of finding some form of civilised life. It would take me a week many blisters and very sore tired feet to discover that I was completely alone on the island that I now had to call home.
Chapter Two: Starting a New Life
I had searched the island for people and found nothing and no one. I did, however, get to know it better half way through my search I had stumbled on a clearing close to the beach, perfect for building a shelter un-til I was rescued. A nice place with white sand and a crystal- clear, non-salty lake filled with fish from what I could see.
So I gathered up what I could from the wreckage. Luckily for me, some wood and a few crates of cement parts of the cargo we had been carrying had survived the crash., I was able to gather up enough to make a good shelter.
Whilst building, I was taken back to the first day I had started in the construction business. I had gone to college and com-pleted a course in building, like everyone else, and from there I started doing a few small development jobs, but I had always wanted to start my own business.
That was when I first met Steve, the man who would eventually become my head of finances. Whilst on a small house job, he, just like me, wanted to rise higher in the business but had nobody to help him off the ladder.
We were two guys who liked construction and had the ideas to take it further and so the business took off from there he taught me everything he knew and I did the same anyway thanks to Stevens help and knowledge I was able to create a good shelter in no time at all a little hut with a wall and an outhouse all the luxuries I could think of, to be honest it was Liz that really taught me that no matter what house you build there should always be luxuries just because I was alone on this island didn’t mean I had to suffer if only she was still here today.
Chapter Three: Survival
Over the next few months I started to make a good life for myself, I think that it was thanks to my friends that I didn’t go mad with loneliness, they had all been very good to m and given me good advice in the short time that I had known them, Peter and Kate had held the group together most of all they had been married for a few months before I met them at the company Christmas party they just like me wanted to rise up in con-struction so that they could buy their dream house and live a good life it’s a crime that their dream had to be cut short like that. After a few months I started to find out that even a beautiful tropical island can be a prison. A prison of sorts. For the fact of it all is, the tropics is a hot, humid, sweating place. Tropical islands, the kind with palm trees waving in the trade winds, are hard-scrabble, sandy, itchy, uncomfortable places unless you have an air conditioned hotel room, a cool shower, and fully-stocked bar to return to at the end of a day. You learn to sleep with sweat and mosquitoes and to fix big holes in your hut, and deal with problems that occur with your make shift plumbing. Paradise? Yeah, I suppose. I caught myself thinking a few times at least it’s not a New York suburbia. At least, at the end of the day, when i lie back in my bunk, still sweating and still dirty, at least i could say to myself, I’m not in suburbia.
Even though i had made a good life for my-self on the island i longed for a ship to ap-pear on the horizon it didn’t matter what kind of ship it was i just wanted to get home and let my family know that i was alright that i had survived the crash at that point i would have done anything to hold my wife again kiss my son goodnight but it was no good they were miles away and i was here
Chapter Four: Island Secrets
I had been on the island for two years and was living quite well but every night i dreamt that the next day a ship would sail in and take me back to civilisation i had no idea that my dream was about to come true well in part when i woke up that day there was more than just the smell of sweat and sea salt in the air i could smell smoke acrid and thick looking out of my hut i could see a thin line of smoke rising up from the beach immediately i ran to the beach one thought in my mind people finally people have landed here and I’ll be on my way home by lunchtime it was not to be as i saw when i reached the spot to find a charred and burned out shell of a boat still smoking on the shore upon closer inspection i found two burnt and mutilated bodies under the rubble a rustle in the bushes caused me to turn round and out from the brush fur singed and burnt in places bounded a huge black Labrador he ran right up to me then away and back up to me again, i looked were he kept running and I noticed trailing up the beach was blood, footprints, and singed clothing the black lab was trying to lead me somewhere so i got up and followed him in to the jungle on and on i walked it seemed i was walking forever but the dog kept on leading me further and further in to the jungle the sound of monkeys and birds rang in my ears but i was focused on following the dog and finding the wrecks occupants atleast then i would have company until rescue came suddenly through the trees loomed a crumbling ruin hung with vines and cobwebs mosaics and statues lay broken and scattered all over the place finding the people from the boat crash would be imposable
Chapter : The Hunt Begins
I got down to the beach and was about to greet them when I saw the logo on their shirts the triad biggest Japanese crime gang, I crept closer to hear what they were saying turns out that the head of the Japanese company we were heading to meet with Mr Fusao Katsuaki was the head of the triad also that’s what Steve was blackmailing him for so that meant the crash was no accident, from what they were saying they had heard that the plane had gone down thirteen years ago but nobody knew were the leader Ka-tsuaki had ordered the search for the re-mains to make sure there were no survivors after thirteen years they had almost given up and classed us all as dead and out of the way this ship was on its way home after checking up on a few business deals they had spotted my fire and decided to check it out i crept even closer my heart pounding in my chest until suddenly “SNAP” my foot hit a branch everyone looked up i was instantly spotted and had twelve guns pointed in my direction i turned and ran as the spot i had been standing was destroyed by gunfire and so i kept running dodging trees, vines and random bullets branches clawing at my legs cutting and bruising me with every step to add insult to injury the rain i had been waiting to come for weeks started making the ground wet and slippery whilst running for my life that was the last thing i needed, i was able to get away just and the next few days were spent hiding in trees, ducking down at the slightest russle or crack of a twig which brings me to where i started cold, wet, hungry and afraid for my life these people won’t stop untill im dead ive taken refuge in the ruins but im not sure how long i can go unseen i must find a way on to their ship so i can live to see my family again how long i can go on hiding here, oh no they’ve seen me oh god here they come, here they come.........................