Chapter 1: Survival Evolved

It all began on the 8th of August. I had just woken up out of bed and made myself a cup of the coffee. It was Sunday, the one day of the week I was actually free. I remember the good old days where summer meant freedom. Playing outside with your friends, playing video games, doing pretty much whatever you wanted. Summer meant freedom. Then I grew up. As is the case with almost every other adult I know, I’d give anything to be a kid again. Alas, time machines still don’t exist yet. Remember back when people thought we’d have flying cars in 2020? Nope, still don’t. Though it's been 12 years since 2020, so I don’t think a flying car is on the way anytime soon. I mean why would it be? We have planes don’t we? A flying car, in my eyes, would be useless. Would be way too many complications with that. Like air traffic, and such. These were my thoughts as I was walking to the bus stop, debating if it would be convenient or not to have flying cars. As I hopped on the bus I greeted the driver, Marco, who was also my best friend. He gave me a silent downward nod and I returned the gesture as I took my usual seat, and stared out the window while he began driving.

“Same Sunday location as always, Ry?” He asked politely. I nodded, which he saw through the mirror. It was unlike my usual self to not say something to start up a conversation.

“Not very talkative today, eh bud?” he questioned and raised a light eyebrow.

“No, sorry. I’m just feeling a little down today, no big deal.”

“I get it, it happens to the best of us. You can always talk to me, y'know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” I snapped with a rather annoyed tone. I felt bad, but luckily Marco didn’t take it to heart. He knew I often had certain days where I was just in a bad mood for no reason, contrasting to my otherwise optimistic and energetic personality. He shrugged my light hostility off, taking the hint and becoming silent. He knew when I was in a period of moodiness, my least favorite thing was to socialize, and he respected that. In turn of course, I also heavily respected him.

Finally, he reached the stop. I went to hand him the fare, but he pushed my hand back, whispering to me that I should keep it. He was persistent, and if I tried to decline he wouldn’t let me off the bus until I didn’t pay him. Which of course, is exactly the opposite of how it was SUPPOSED to be. I didn't want to bother starting a never-ending argument as I was particularly aggressive that day. I thanked him and returned the change to my pocket while I stepped off the bus, waving to Marco as he drove off. I was there. The park. My home away from home. I spent more of my time there than my own home, and of course that miserable office more than the park. It doesn’t help that on top of working an 8-hour shift Monday through Saturday, my boss is a complete dbag and most of my coworkers are aholes. Not necessarily to me, but rather just in general. This park was my place to decompress and relax, thankfully unbothered. I strided along the grass until I found a secluded spot in the shade, under a big oak tree, and sat down, resting my back against the trunk. I intended to simply read, however the way the warmth of the sun hit my face but the light was simultaneously blocked by the shade presented a most comforting, soothing feeling. My eyes were droopy, and I had a free schedule, so I let myself succumb to my drowsiness. I fell asleep right under that oak tree. If only I’d have taken more time to appreciate the earth in general, as that would be the last time I would see it.

Eventually, I woke up. Everyone wakes up when they go to sleep. Unless they die. I don’t know if I died. I still don’t. When I woke up from that nap, the most wonderful nap I’d ever had, I wasn't under that oak tree. I didn’t have my bag next to me. I wasn’t sitting on the grass. There was no tree. There was no park. There was a beach. Sand. Water. I jolted awake after feeling a stinging pain in my left arm. I sat up with a devastating headache, which replaced the pain in my arm and diverted my attention away from it. I felt the sand trickle down my bare back. I was naked. All except for my underwear, though I didn’t notice it right away. I rose to face the ocean, a rather beautiful view. I stood up, brushing the sand from my body. Not immediately thinking too much of the unusuality of my predicament as I thought it was just a mere dream. Though never in my life have I had a dream this vividly clear. It was too real.

I knew that when I stood up, and the burning sand scorched my feet. It forced any part of my body that may have still been asleep to awake, and I yelped in pain. Instinct took over, and I rushed to the water, dipping my feet in the blue. However that brief wave of relief I felt was almost instantly replaced with the stinging cold of the freezing water. I jumped back into the sand, and luckily since my feet were wet, the scorching pain of the sand was blocked. My feet were still cold, but the rest of my body was warmed by the beating sun. I realized my lack of clothes and looked around for any of my possessions. Disappointment, all I saw was sand and water in every direction except to my left, which was instead a sect of lush green grass, trees, and other vegetation. It looked like it led to more land, but I was too busy panicking to let curiosity drive me. I was lost. No idea where I was. I was alone. Not a single other living organism in sight. I had nothing. I was naked and had nothing.

No. I couldn’t think like that. I couldn’t afford to. I had nothing, but I had something. I had my body, my brain. I was alive. That counted as something, right? I knew one thing. If I was going to get rescued, I needed to keep that. I needed to stay alive. If I had nothing and remained here, I’d die. Then I’d never get rescued. Would never get home, see my cat Sprinkles, and never see Marco. My fight or flight response kicked in, and since there was nowhere to run but the unknown sea and inland, I chose to fight. I took a deep breath, and in response, my stomach grumbled. I was hungry. Starving. I needed food. However, I needed to assess myself. That came first. I took another breath, and noticed something. I saw a bulge in my pants. I looked around embarrassed, but I knew that there was nobody there to judge me for my “morning wood.” But, it wasn’t what I thought it was. I felt an irritating scratch in my crotch, but it was caused by something that shouldn’t be there. I reached in my pants, and felt paper. I had something. I pulled it out, and unrolled it. When I did, a small metal compass dropped to the sand. I was more interested in what was on the paper, because it turns out it wasn’t a paper, it was a map. A detailed map of a place I’ve never seen before.

I felt a spark of hope. It might be a map of where I was. While I had no idea what this place actually was, or where on the map I currently sat, it was something. There was also the compass. That was something else. But my hunger. That was something too, and I could no longer ignore it. I placed the map on the sand, and the compass on top to prevent it from blowing away, then ran to the vegetation. There were bushes, many bushes, and each one held colorful berries. I inspected the berries, my potential source of food. Unfortunately they were berries I’d never seen before. I could not recognize them, and reconsidered. However my hunger was screaming at me to insert food into my body. Worst case scenario is the berries would be poisonous, and I’d die a slow, painful, torturous death.

I desperately looked around for anything else, but there was nothing. I didn’t want to venture inland, as I gathered it was safest to stay at the beach. I didn’t know what kind of dangers may await me.

I couldn’t help myself. They looked so colorful and sweet. I carefully picked a blue-colored berry, which looked like a raspberry. I threw it in my mouth. I knew one way to distinguish poisonous and non-poisonous berries, the taste. It wasn’t surefire by any means, but it applied to the majority, or at least that's what I assumed. If it was bitter and tasteless, it would probably kill you. When I inserted the berry into my mouth, I was prepared to spit it out immediately upon even the slightest taste of bitterness. It wasn’t bitter. It was sweet. So incredibly sweet. It grabbed every taste bud and lured it in, making my mouth crave more. I reached out my right hand, grabbed a handful of the berries, and shoved them in my mouth. I cared not that the juice splattered all over my face. They were so good. I reached my left hand to grab another handful, and that's when I saw it. Implanted in my arm, was a rhombus shaped crystal. I froze. It was in my skin. I scratched it wildly, trying to remove it, but it wouldn’t budge. It felt like it was so deep it was fused to my bone. It hurt, but not enough for me to cry over it.

I quickly gave up trying to pry it out, and searched for more of the blue berries. I knew there were others, but so far I knew the blue ones were safe. Safe in the sense they didn’t kill me right away, that is. I wasn’t keeping track of time, but after a couple minutes I had full hands, full of berries. I found a spot on the sand, and ate them. They were extremely tasty, and worked wonders on satisfying my dried mouth. But there was a downside, that being they weren’t very fulfilling. They were able to still my hunger, easing the suffering. Unfortunately, they weren’t by any means able to quell the beast inside my stomach, which demanded more sustenance. I tried to eat more after picking, but my mouth said otherwise. The sweetness of the berries now stung, and I felt cuts on the insides of my mouth. The berries now tasted incredibly sour, and burned my mouth to the touch. I needed something else.

I walked along the shore, in the direction that the woods led. That’s when I came across it. A creature. In the distance, a small creature waddled along the shoreline. I couldn’t tell if it was a chicken, or a duck, but it didn’t matter. It was food. Normally, I’d never consider killing an animal for food, but there was no other option. I ran towards the creature, and realized it was neither a chicken or duck. It was something I’d never seen before. It was roughly the same size as a duck, although noticeably bigger, and the beak was longer and hooked at the end. Its feet weren’t webbed, but rather looked more similar to that of a chicken. It had feathers, and incredibly short wings, ones that it surely couldn’t use to fly. Infact, the only thing clear about it was that it was some kind of bird, and upon encountering it, it let out a warble similar to that of a turkey. It was actually really cute, so I looked around, desperate once more for any alternative. Again, nothing. I walked over and picked up a hefty stone, twas’ light enough to throw but heavy enough to pack a punch. I took aim, and threw the rock at its head, as hard as I could.

Except I missed. The rock collided with the sand with a thud, and of course, startled the creature. It flapped its short, stubby wings and squawked as it ran into the woods, which appeared to expand in size and grow more dense as I walked further along the shore. I sighed, and looked to see if there was another duck-thing. No luck. I began to walk back the way I came, especially since I then realized I had no way to cook the meat. I needed fire. That was something else that was vital for my survival. I needed fire. I only took a few steps when I heard a shriek. Immediately I knew what made the noise, it was a warbling shriek and the same pitch as the one the duck-thing made. I saw the rummaging in the bushes, but couldn’t see what it was. Well, not until what was moving stepped out, anyway.

The first thing I saw was the creature, bloodied, and then the spear. The spear had impaled the duck-thing and was carrying it like a kabob. Then I saw the hands, human hands, then the human that they belonged to. A human stepped out of the bushes, carrying a makeshift spear that had been used to impale that creature. I didn’t know what to feel. At first it was relief, someone came to save me. Then I looked at him again. He wore what looked like cloth clothes, poorly stitched together. He carried a satchel and the spear. He wasn’t here to rescue me, and in fact appeared he was stuck on the island too. All of his equipment looked like it was thrown together using the resources on wherever this place was. Some kind of Island, perhaps? He was incredibly dirty, and his hair almost completely covered his eyes. He was stuck here too. For how long, though?

I opened my mouth to speak, then felt fear. He had a weapon and resources. I had nothing. He could kill me at any second and I wouldn’t be able to do a thing. I realized that as well and I was scared. He had been here longer than me, that was obvious. I didn’t know where I was or how this place worked. Maybe he did. Maybe it was entirely a kill-or-be-killed world. We stared at each other, each of us gauging the other. I was waiting for him to do something. I didn't know his intentions and didn’t want to make the wrong judgment. He looked like he'd been here longer than me, so I didn’t want to run or try to fight in case he could help me, even if it wasn’t rescuing. I didn’t want to try to be friendly either, as that spear would easily end my life if I found myself on the wrong end of the stick. If I tried to be friendly it might result in my untimely death. Then he spoke, in a deep and burly voice.

“If you’re going to try and kill a Dodo with a stone, you should probably use a slingshot. Your aim is awful,” he chuckled. I eased up a bit, but was still in disbelief, or was it fear, to say anything. I just stood there, likely looking really stupid.

“Here, you can borrow mine. I just got my hands on a bow, so you’ll probably use it more than I will,” he said once more, then reached in his satchel. A few seconds passed, and he pulled out nothing else but a makeshift slingshot. He walked closer towards me, and I hesitantly backed up, but stopped when he reached his hand out, offering me the weapon. I didn’t want to be rude, so I took it and tucked its handle into my waistband. I gave a very meek “thank you,” and straightened my posture, as to not make me look like a spineless coward. At this point, I was about to turn around and bolt, running as far back as I could down the shore. Only thing stopping me? I was definitely going to get caught eventually. I’m not in exactly the best shape, but this dude was. His bulging muscles were definitely a sight, impossible to not notice. He looked like he could crush my head in between his arms as easily as an egg. But he gave me a weapon. A ranged weapon. I may not be a good thrower, but I’m sure as hell a good shot in terms of slingshots, bows, guns, whatever it may be. I am a good shot. He said he had a bow, but I didn’t see him carrying it. There was nowhere he could be hiding it, and the only other visible weapon he had was that spear, which still had a “Dodo,” if that's what they’re called, stuck on the end of it. Realistically, it might not be in my worst interest to kill him with the slingshot and use his stuff to give me a head start. I bent down to pick up another stone off the sand, and the man didn’t bother reacting. He didn’t view me as a threat.

The more I thought about it, even if it was just for a couple seconds, the more I realized how killing him or even simply knocking him out would be a possibility. I began to collect more stones, as much as my arms could carry, when he spoke again.

“You just arrived on this island, didn’t you?” he asked. I didn’t bother looking up as I searched the beach for more stones, and replied with a half-heartedly “yeah.” There was a brief moment of silence before he spoke again.

“Hmph, I know how treacherous this island can be, especially when you’re clueless. You seem alright so, would you like me to help you?”

I stopped. Help me? I slapped myself back to my senses. What the fudge was I thinking?! Kill him? Was I out of my mind?! It hasn’t even been an hour since I woke up here and murder and thievery were the two main things in my mind? I would NEVER even CONSIDER something as vile as this back home. Being on an unknown island shouldn’t change that. Not yet, anyway. I stood up from my crouched rock-gathering position to look him in the eye. I nodded quietly in response to his question. When I did, I saw a faint smile form upon his face. I thought it was a smirk at first, and immediately reconsidered as it may have been a trap. However upon closer inspection it wasn’t a smirk, it was a genuine, happy smile. Maybe he had gotten lonely? I didn’t know how many other people, if any, were on this island. Or how big the island even was. All of that, in the moment, did not matter.

“In that case, let’s go get us some dinner! Dodos don’t give very much meat due to their small size and quite large abundance of bones, so we’ll need more. I suggest getting that slingshot ready, there should be a couple more of those damned birds down that way,” he explained and pointed down the further direction of the shore.

I nodded, and tried to grab my slingshot before quickly realizing I still had all those rocks in my hands. They all fell as I desperately tried to grab any one I could, but resulted in a total of zero stones caught. Hooray! The man chuckled once more. I was about to yell at him, when he reached into his satchel, and pulled out ANOTHER satchel. He tossed it to me, and unlike the rocks, I caught it.

“Always carry a spare,” he said. I slung it around my shoulder, backwards, so that the bag was resting over my chest as opposed to my back. That way, once I loaded them up with stones, I'd have a quick way to rapidly fire projectiles from the gifted slingshot. As he complimented my idea, I began frantically shoving all the stones into the satchel, then went and got some more. It had quite a bit of weight to it by the time I felt like I had enough, but not enough to slow me down. I snatched the slingshot from my pants, looked at the man, and nodded, signaling to him I was ready. He nodded back, and began walking down the beach.

I followed him for a few meters until we rounded a corner of the shore, which doesn't sound right writing it down now that I think about it. After rounding the stretch of sand that stuck out like a sore thumb, I saw a bunch of those Dodos. I looked at the man, and he just stared back. He was waiting for ME. I was expected to take action. So I did. I walked closer to a Dodo, but not so close that it would flee. I inserted a stone to the slingshot’s band, which didn’t seem to be made out of rubber, as it was quite harder to pull back. It took a good amount of strength to pull it back far as it would go. Once pulled all the way back, I aimed it so the Dodo’s head was right in between the Y-shape. The Dodo stopped, and turned its head to stare right at me. “I’m sorry little guy,” I said as I let go of the band, and instantaneously shut my eyes as I heard the collision, the crunch of the stone shattering the little bird’s skull. The Dodo’s squawk of pain was brief. At least it died quickly. I heard another thud, this one being the Dodo’s body hitting the ground.

I opened my eyes to see the Dodo, with a small pool of red liquid around its head. I regret looking closer, because it’s head had an indent in it. I felt bad. I looked back at the man, who stood there observing. I looked at him, awaiting approval. He held up a single finger. At first I was confused, and found myself embarrassingly tilting my head to the side like a curious dog. It didn’t help that I was still crouched down either. I heard a sigh, then before he could speak, I realized he wanted me to kill one more. I reloaded my slingshot, and aimed it at a Dodo a bit farther away. Like before, I fired and shut my eyes, and listened for the crunch, the sound of the stone smashing into the bird’s skull. I heard it, albeit very faintly, and approached the Dodo’s body. Not the corpse, because upon arriving close to it, I noticed its chest rising up and down. It was breathing. Alive, but not moving. I bent down and felt the side of its neck. Expectedly and unexpectedly, I felt a pulse.

The bird was alive. It was unconscious. I regret this even now, but I didn’t think much of it at the time and fired another stone point-blank directly at its head, letting out a loud crunch. I regret it, because I could have tamed the unconscious Dodo. I don’t regret it TOO much however, as at that point I hadn’t even considered taming one of those as a possibility. Hell, at that point I was completely unaware that anything else existed on the island besides me, that dude, and those Dodos. Once dead, I scooped up the Dodo in my left arm after returning my slingshot to my waistband. I ran over to the second Dodo, and picked up that as well. I carried the two dead animals over to the man, whose name I still did not know. Without saying a word, he signaled for me to follow, and so I did.

This time, instead of walking along the shore, he dipped into the woods. I reluctantly followed him until I saw a light in the distance. That, and smoke rising above the trees. At that point, it was beginning to grow dark, which confused me then as day NEVER progressed that quickly in the real world. Not thinking too much of it, I stepped into a clearing, where the man stood at his camp. There was a makeshift tent with a sleeping bag, and a campfire as well. He set down his satchel next to a small wooden crate and motioned for me to come closer. I gave him one of the Dodos, which he impaled on his spear. He did the same with the third, until all three Dodo’s were impaled. He centered them, and placed the spear over the fire on a stand composed of two sticks with a V shape carved into the tops of them, stuck in the ground on opposing sides of the campfire.

“These things take a bit to cook, would you mind gathering some berries?” he asked. I nodded, still remaining mostly silent. Then I asked, “Does it matter which ones? How do I tell what berries are poisonous?”

“All berries on this island are safe, mostly. The only questionable ones are the white ones and black ones. The white, they’re incredibly bitter and they’ll dehydrate you if you eat too much. Otherwise, they’re harmless. The black ones… Don’t eat the black ones, they’ll knock you out almost instantly. Only takes a small handful. Though they are good for you if you can’t fall asleep, which happens quite often. Otherwise, don’t consume them.”

“Should I still collect them if I see them?” I asked.

“Absolutely. I haven’t exactly figured out how yet, but I can guarantee we can use them to make some kind of Narcotics. The berries' sleep-inducing effects also affect other creatures on this island. Plus, as I said, it's useful for getting sleep.”

I was about to ask what he meant by the “other creatures,” but he sensed I was going to and stopped me.

“I’ll explain to you later, but right now we’re running out of light. Just collect as many berries as you can and make sure the fire is within your sight at all times. If absolutely ANYTHING, no matter how big or small so much as comes into your vision, run right back here immediately. Understand?”

I nodded. I still couldn’t muster up any words, I just couldn’t find anything else to say. I was still in shock, everything happening was so surreal. I knew I wasn’t on earth, I had accepted the fact that I was not home. I was far from it. I didn’t know where, or what this place was. There was ONE thing I knew, though, and that was I needed to survive if I was ever to see my real home again. My friends, my family, everyone and everything I love. I didn’t know if it was possible to ever return home, I still don’t. But I must keep holding onto that hope, even if it's down to a mere thread. I must stay hopeful. I must not lose sight of what's important. I must survive.