Misplaced 1, part 4.

   Ruth crouched down behind the seat as they plummeted towards the ground.  Around her everyone was screaming and shouting contradictory advice, but she was silent.  She didn't dare look up.

   Then the impact.  The plane hit, skidded along the ground for a few metres and finally came to rest.  The noise on its own would have been enough to frighten Ruth- the shouts and screams, the creak of metal, the crash as trees were mown down, and then, most terrifying of all, an explosion from the back of the plane and the sound of hot air whipping past her face, and of flames catching hold behind her.

   She stood up, hardly noticing pain in her arm as the overwhelming heat and choking smoke caught at her throat.  She tried to get out of her seat and find an exit, but the smoke was already making it hard.  She heard someone screaming behind her and turning saw someone coughing, disorientated and trapped in their seat.  She reached out and took their hand, helping them up and pulling them out with her. 

   Someone had managed to get an emergency exit open and light was flooding into the plane from outside.  Ruth headed towards it, dragging the other person- she could see now that it was Stephanie- with her.  She seemed to be struggling to walk, so Ruth tried to put an arm round her to support her.  Most of the passengers were already thronging round the exit, coughing and panicking.  By the time Ruth reached the door she was more than half carrying Stephanie, and between the smoke and the extra effort she was struggling to breathe. 

   Coughing, she eventually reached the exit and looked out into the clearer, cooler air.  The ground was still a metre or so below them.  But now she could see why Stephanie had been still in her seat, unable to move.  Some flying shrapnel from the explosion must have caught her, and there was a terrible wound in one of her legs.  Ruth wasn't sure she could reach the ground without falling herself, let alone get Stephanie down.

   But then Patrick appeared on the ground to help, and somehow between them they managed it.  Somehow they reached a safe distance from the plane, and lain Stephanie down on the ground.  Other people were crowding round her and Patrick.  Aside from them, alone and forgotten, Ruth leant against a tree and sank down, coughing and struggling to breathe...

   Ruth woke up, her heart beating fast, confused and disorientated.  She sat up and looked around.  All was quiet.  She could hear one or two snores and some heavy breathing coming from the shelter they had built the day before.  She had volunteered (of course she had, she always volunteered for things like that) to sleep outside because there wasn't really room for everyone inside.  Looking across the glowing embers of the fire she could make out the slumbering forms of Nick and Jack.  Jack should have been keeping the fire going.  Quietly she put some more wood on the fire and watched the flames rise.

   It must have been a dream.  There had been no fire, no explosion in their crash.  She had helped people escape, yes, but none of them had been as badly injured as Stephanie in her dream.  The dream had been more frightening than the actual event.  And yet, in some way she couldn't understand, she knew that the dream had been their crash. 

   She jumped as whatever had made the screeching sound earlier cried out again.  That must have been what woke me up, she thought.  I must still be a bit in shock.  She was nervous and jumpy, and very glad of the fire's protection and light.  And heat too, for she was shivering a little, although it wasn't really cold, even at night. 

   She felt very alone.  Even though the others were there, they were no comfort to her, being asleep.  Beyond the firelight, everything was dark.  She stared at the flames, thinking about how fire could harm as well as help.

   Suddenly she saw something move, on the very edge of the firelight, out of the corner of her eye.  She stiffened and moved one hand towards a long branch one end of which was in the fire.  Then it moved again, closer and she could make out its' shape was human.  For a moment that was equally terrifying, and visions of them all being murdered by primitive savages played in her head.  Then she saw that it was Patrick. 

   He saw down near the fire.  "I couldn't sleep," he said.  "I told Jack I'd look after the fire, so he could sleep, then I saw some bats and wandered off to see if I could find out where they came from.  I think there must be some caves further up the hill over there.  They all came and went from that direction.  And then the stars were so beautiful I stood there looking for a while."   Ruth looked at him.  How could he be thinking about stars and bats in this situation?  And yet somehow she envied him.  Perhaps that was how he coped. 

   "Of course I couldn't see any constellations I recognised," he said.

   There was beginning to be light beyond the firelit circle.  Dawn was coming, far out over the sea, and the first faint hint of it had reached the island.  It grew stronger as Ruth sat there watching, in amazement at the colour and beauty.

   With the growing light the fire began to seem pale and dim, it's power diminished by comparison to the infinitely greater fire raging ninety-three million miles away.  The stars faded away with the coming of the new day.  Ruth looked at the sun and stars differently now she had been out there.  Like fire, it was frightening and yet beautiful.  And yet now they were as lost, as alone, as forsaken here as they had been drifting in space a year ago. 

The story continues...

Misplaced 1, part 3.

There was no sugar, the milk salvaged from the plane was on the point of turning bad and the water tasted faintly of dust, but Ruth thought it was the best cup of tea she had ever drunk. She felt much better after it, and she could see that the others did too.

The smell of tea had brought the techies over to the fire, still arguing about the best way to build a shelter. Ruth listened to them for a while. Then she got up and wandered away.

Near the crash site were the uprooted remains of several trees. Ruth began to collect some of them and drag them over to an outcrop of large rocks. Rachel and some of the other girls joined her.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked.

"If we wait for the techies to build a shelter we'll still be waiting this time tomorrow," Ruth said. "I was going to try to make a shelter for tonight, even if it's only temporary."

They collected long bits of wood from the crash site and forest floor, and carried them to the rocks where they made a rough framework by lashing them together. The filled in the gaps in the roof with sheet metal which had been torn off the plane. It was a bit rickety, but it was sheltered by the rocks and would keep off the rain- if it ever rained here. It was so hot and sunny that it was protection from the sun that seemed more essential. The metal roof was burning hot, so they collected broad leaves that they hoped would insulate it.


The techies were still arguing round Jack's campfire, but when they saw what Ruth and the others were doing they came over to look and comment.


"It would be better if you put cross bracing on the sides," Jack said.


"No, I don't think you need to," Nick said. "The rocks keep it pretty steady."


"We haven't got any more wood," Rachel said.


"We can always improve it later," Ruth said. "But at least we've got somewhere now, especially for the people who are injured. It'll be dark soon."


She was right. The sun was now close to the horizon, and to everyone's relief it was cooler. The techies gave up arguing for the moment and went to collect more wood for Jack's fire. They had decided to keep it going all night, as it would make it easier for anyone searching for them from the air to find them. Some of the others were sitting round it, talking quietly. Everyone still seemed a bit dazed from the crash. At one side of the fire sat Rick, his broken arm in a makeshift sling. His leg was also painful, although he insisted that this was just his normal 'brokenness' made worse by being shaken around by the crash. The others had made him sit and rest, but it was obvious that he was still in some pain. Claire too had spent the afternoon sitting in the shade, dazed from hitting her head hard against the seat in front. Most of them bore cuts and bruises from the crash.


They all sat around the fire, tired. They had eaten some of the fruit the foraging party had found, but no one seemed very hungry. Everyone was very quiet, Ruth thought, and she wondered if they were still in shock. Nick and David had some of the plane's radio equipment and were fiddling about, trying to mend it, but they were having no luck. They had, of course, tried to use their mobile phones as soon as they had crashed, but unsurprisingly there was no signal.


Ruth stared at the fire. She had always loved watching the flames, feeding them and feeling the heat. She had never been afraid of controlled fires, like some people she had known. She had used them for heat, for cooking, for a sense of company and fellowship. Fire was somehow alive.


But she had never been so dependent on it as now. There was no escape route, no back up plan, there was no gas stove or electric kettle. The fire was all they had. One by one each of them gathered round its flames, drawing together against the dark.


The fire crackled and burned. In the background she could hear the swish and rush of the sea. And now night had come the forest was waking up. The leaves rustled. Patrick was staring up at the sky, where the dark shapes of bats were just visible against the sky. Further off they could hear a sounds that were somewhere between screeching and roaring. Something was declaring that this was its' territory, that it would not back down. Although distant and obviously nothing to do with them, it sounded threatening, unfriendly.


"Do you think there are any predators here?" Rachel said, breaking the silence.


"Depends what you mean by predators," Tom replied. "If you mean are there any creatures here that prey on other animals, yes, I'm sure there are. If you mean are they a danger to us, probably not. The island isn't big enough."


"I do wonder what that noise is, though," Emily asked.


"Some kind of bird?" Rachel suggested.


"It's more like a mammal, I think," Tom said.


Ruth thought of another use of fire- for protection. Keeping the fire burning all night would serve that purpose too.


In the dark the island was a different place. It seemed threatening, hostile, wilder than it had during the day.


The unspoken fear of each of them seemed to close in, to be lurking just beyond the firelight. Would a search team find them tomorrow? Or the next day? Would they ever be found? And how long could they survive here if they weren't? Their thoughts were dark and melancholy, even in the firelight. The song she had sung during the crash came back to Ruth. They had escaped death then, but what had they escaped to? Like the character whose song it was, they were free and yet still prisoners.
 
 
The story continues...