Test of the Island

The hot summer sun burnt down on the small remote island. Mike Rodgers climbed through the the thick grass in search of water, even if it was just a tiny puddle. He knew he would need to drink even if the group would be rescued by the end of the weekend. He continued on through the undergrowth and approached a swamp-like area. Mike felt his foot squish and looked down into a mud-like substance. He looked back up and saw a small pond up ahead. He trudged forward and dipped his hands into the shallow water, which was surprisingly clear for a marsh. Mike brought his hands to his lips and sipped the liquid, which was bitter but thirst-quenching he thought.

“ Guys I found water for us!” Mike boomed.

He watched as moments later a group of four figures ran from the beach and through the woods towards him.

“ Wow, Mike, this is great!”a woman named Catherine said enthusiastically.

“It is, but how clean is the water? Is it drinkable” one man asked. (Mike couldn’t remember his name).

The group began arguing over whether it was more important to stay hydrated or not get sick.

“Stop, Stop!” Mike barked. The group instantly quieted and faced Mike.


“I’m not sure how clean the water is, but I know we will need to stay hydrated more than anything,” he said confidently.

The group began to cup their hands and drink the bitter pond water. Once everyone was satisfied, Mike and the group hiked back down to the beach to the check on the rest of the group. A number of them were still fiddling with their water-logged cell phones, desperately trying to turn them on to call for help. A few people turned to self-pity, moping around the beach and pouting in the stick shelter. Mike approached the shelter, a structure he showed them how to build. It was made up of long branches sticking out of the ground with leaves and reeds attached that helped shade the area. Mike himself had begun wondering why it had to be him stuck in this situation.


BEFORE THE summer started, Mike had been planning a camping trip to Peterson Island with his friend Joe, a Peterson Island resident. The two were childhood friends from Boy Scouts and spending countless summers at survival camp together. Mike booked a ticket on the new Peterson Island Jet, a small airplane that flew solely to Peterson Island and back to the mainland. On the sunny morning of Friday, August 13th, 2014, Mike boarded the 10:00 a.m. Peterson Island Jet. After all 16 passengers had boarded, the plane barreled down the runway and lifted up and away from the small airport. After an hour, which was about halfway through the flight, the plane was gliding high above the deep blue ocean and Mike saw a small island he hadn’t known existed. Mike could hardly hold his excitement as he imagined himself enjoying his time camping with Joe. A few minutes later, Mike noticed that the plane seemed to be slowly


dropping below the clouds and getting closer to the ocean. A moment later, Mike felt his stomach drop and the front of the plane surged downward and began plummeting towards the ocean. The cabin erupted with the sounds of people screaming. Just before the nose of the plane approached the surface of the water, the pilot miraculously gained control and safely landed the plane onto the surface. As the plane began to sink, Mike and the other passengers desperately smashed windows to free themselves into the ocean. Mike floated to the surface and began gulping mouthfuls of air. His leadership instincts kicked in and he began searching around and counting the number of survivors. All 16 had made their way out of the sinking plane. Mike spotted the small island he had seen from the plane earlier.

“Alright, everyone follow me and swim to that island over there!” Mike shouted.

Mike began swimming through the calm, cool ocean towards the island and the rest of the passengers followed his lead.The passengers were slowed by their water-logged clothes and shoes. After 15 minutes, the group reached the sandy beach of the small island.


MIKE SUDDENLY sat up from the enclosure and energetically began collecting small stones from the beach. He dumped his collection by the enclosure and wandered off into the woods. Here, Mike began gathering sticks and leaves and carrying them back to the beach. He was able to perform this task quickly, as he was very fit for a man in his 40’s. Mike figured he could show the group how to make a fire to stay warm and dry their clothes. As the afternoon faded to night and the temperature began to drop, Mike called the group around him.

“Alright everyone, watch closely,” he said.


The group studied Mike’s actions intently as he began carefully chopping the sticks with his makeshift axe, which he had made out of a thick stick and sharp-edged rock while he was in the woods. He began laying rocks and larger pieces of wood on the sand, each piece laid slightly off of the next one with the same center point to form a circle, just like he had learned at survival camp. Mike filled the spaces between the large sticks with twigs and scattered them on top of the pile. Mike grabbed two sticks from the extra stick pile and began rubbing them together directly over the fire with all his might. After less than a minute, a spark flew from the sticks and ignited a twig in the pile. The spark swept through the dry sticks and soon the pile began producing a warm fire and the group huddled close. Mike felt his stomach rumble. He hadn’t eaten since early that morning.

“Who’s hungry?” Mike said, breaking the silence.

The group answered with a collective yes.

“Half of the group come with me down to the edge of the water,” he said. “I will show you how to dig some clams from the rocky area.”

Half of the group followed Mike to the edge of the water and watched as he showed them to stomp on the rocks and dig where the liquid shot up. Mike thought he might be able to collect some edible berries and plants from the woods. He walked back over to the fire where the rest of the group remained.

“Would the rest of you come to the woods and collect some berries and plants with me?” Mike asked.

The rest of the group followed Mike into the woods and listened as he carefully explained


which berries and plants to collect. He already had observed and identified which edible plants were on the island from his earlier trips into the woods. While the rest of the group searched for edible plants and berries, Mike wandered back to the beach and found a wide rock which he figured the group could put on top of the fire and be used as a cooking surface. While the groups were collecting food, Mike carried the rock back to the enclosure and maintained the fire. A little while later, the groups returned with their collections of foods and Mike instructed everyone to place what they had gathered on a separate bit of the rock. One larger man, Ben, wasn’t too happy.

“This isn’t fair, I should get too have a larger portion of food. I’m bigger!” Ben said.

“Maybe you should have collected more food for yourself.” Mike replied.

“ Not everyone is a survival expert like you, I’m not used to this kind of thing. Besides, whoever made you the boss?” Ben shouted.

“I probably know more about leadership and survival than anyone here. I’m helping keep you alive and healthy! If you don’t want my help then fine!” Mike shot back.

“Heres what I think of your goddamn help!”

Ben whipped around, pushed the cooking food off of the rock onto the ground and kicked sand over the food.

“What the hell is your problem!” Mike screamed.

“You’re my problem! I’ve had it with you!” Ben shouted.

Ben surged at Mike and without thinking Mike grabbed his makeshift axe from beside the fire. As Ben closed in, Mike looked dead into Ben’s wild eyes and smashed his axe into the


side of Ben’s skull. The group watched in shock as Ben’s limp body fell and the sand around his head turned a deep red. Mike numbly dropped his axe and stood in shock for a moment. Both Mike and the rest of the group were too horrified to say anything. He then began dragging the axe and Ben’s body to the woods, leaving a trail of blood behind him. Mike dragged the axe and the body to a tree in the woods and covered them in leaves. Mike couldn’t believe what he had just done and didn’t know what to think of himself. He felt sick and shaky. Mike straggled back to the beach, led only by the light from the dimming fire. The group kept their distance from him and the silence remained. Mike dumped sand on the dying fire and walked down the beach away from the rest of the group and laid face-flat in the sand.


MIKE WOKE UP to a bright sun the next morning and sat staring out at the water for several minutes. He slowly rose and began wandering aimlessly down the beach. The rest of the group was sitting in a circle around the remains of the fire and seemed to be having a conversation. As Mike walked by, the group stopped talking and turned around, glaring at him. Mike kept on going past the group and wandered into the woods. He began collecting plants and berries to eat but soon his guilt overtook hunger and he no longer felt that he could eat or drink. All the time Mike had spent learning to be a great leader, live outdoors, and keeping in top shape couldn’t prepare him for the mental stress of really getting stranded. All the knowledge and skills he had gained couldn’t control his behavior. The guilt was overwhelming. Mike no longer cared if he and the group were rescued soon. He was beginning to think of himself as a monster; he didn’t feel worthy of being rescued. Mike then wandered over to a tree with a pile of leaves at the


bottom that he recognized. He began digging away at the leaves and, just as he thought, he found an axe and Ben’s decaying body. He winced for a moment, and then picked up the axe. Mike stuck one end of the blade into the ground so that the other end of the blade stuck up in the air. He then looked up at the tree and began climbing. When he thought he was about fifteen or twenty feet up the tree, he paused and held onto a branch for a moment. Mike took a deep breath and observed the beautiful landscape. His mind was made. He leaped from the branch and crashed face down at the ground. His chest plummeted into the axe he had set blade up and went clean through his body. Mike’s body lay stone dead along side Ben’s. The woods were quiet except for the chirp of birds and the breeze through the trees. A few minutes later, the silence was broken by the sound of a large boat motor and the cheers of people coming from the beach.