The Altruism Trial

Chapter Five: The Day

The Story So Far: Locked inside the Microjet, Riley is suddenly thrust into the clouds, leaving the school and everything behind him. After a strange gas knocks him out, Riley wakes up on a beach, pounded by waves. He is certain he’s about to die. September 24th 5:40 AM

I’m slammed down hard onto the sandy shore again. I gasp for air, coughing up a gallon of foamy water. I’m broken inside.

At least it feels that way.

I roll over onto my stomach and throw up everything inside me. Which isn’t much.

My tablet still works.

Weird.

With a couple of big breaths and all the energy I can find, I crawl up to the dry sand, scanning the tree-line. I find my shirt and put it on. Where is everyone? Why isn’t someone coming to help me?

The horizon is a deep purple. The stars glisten behind a moving blanket of black cloud. It dawns on me that the body of water is no lake, but something bigger. I was in a plane. I was in that stupid microjet flying over the ocean. 8:35 AM

Parts of body that hurt: - Cut on right leg

- Left elbow

- Slice along Forehead

- Jaw

- Ribs

- Pinky-finger on right hand The sun is rising up over the ocean now.

Most of the cuts are drying (except for one) and I have some strength in my legs to at least move about and search for food. I’m starving. There’s gotta be a burger joint somewhere.

I’m thirsty too.

The sea water tastes like salty medicine.

A shiny reflection catches my eye along the beach. I grit my teeth and hustle over to a rough patch, jetting up from the sand. The microjet, almost fully intact, sways gently back and forth as it rests on some black rocks. Besides a couple of small holes along one side, the thing looks good.

I drag it carefully to a long clearing like the runway back at the school. The hatch opens easily.

I climb in—about an inch of water is at my feet. My EOTS tablet connects to the server.

Good to go.

Only there’s no activity on the monitors—just says it’s lined in but for some reason it’s not reaching the control hub. The engine isn’t receiving impulses or getting the correct level of surges.

Wait.

I sound like I know what I’m talking about. What’s up with that? How do I know all of this? It’s this stupid EOTS thing. Why can’t I put it down? 10:43 AM

Gave up for a bit on the stupid plane.

Tried poking at some fish in a tiny cove up the beach but it’s impossible. Things are too fast. There are coconuts and wrinkly berries in some of the palm trees but climbing them with this annoying breeze is like lighting a match in a hurricane. Matches.

Fire.

I have to build a fire. Right?

I drop to the sand. My legs are killing, and I have a massive headache.

I want to go home.

I just want to go home.

I tap the internet tab on the EOTS but like the microjet, the line isn’t connected. I can’t decide if the EOTS is the Hub or if the microjet has one. Regardless, I’m now aware there is a piece missing that must bridge the lines from both hosts.

Again. Not sure how I know this. “Ahhhhh!” I scream. “Ahhhh!” I scream again. My voice echoes.

“Get me out of here!” 3:30 PM

I search the entire beach for a little missing piece that fell out of the control panel. I know it’s the bridge. I know it’s what will get me home.

The sun is hot now and my lips are dry.

But I can’t give in. I gotta find that piece. 4:53 PM

I try to reconstruct the flight path and where the plane would have gone down. I search the water, but it’s impossible to see without a mask or goggles. Every time I think I see something, it ends up being a shiny rock or another stupid fish.

Man, I’m hungry.

There’s a peculiar sound in the darkness of the trees behind me—like a whisper—only louder.

I swallow. 8:45 PM

The air is cooling. I slip inside the plane and close the hatch. It’s not comfortable, but at least it protects me from the annoying wind. I fiddle with the rear seat—realizing it folds up. This allows me to push my seat back and recline it.

My stomach turns.

I need food. 11:34 PM Yo Brianna,

Why didn’t you say hi to me the last time I walked past you in the hall? You looked right at me too. Did I do something wrong?

Do you still want to come to my hockey game next week?

Hopefully I’ll be back soon. I’m stuck on some dinky island in the middle of nowhere.

Bye for now.

Riley Pickering.

I press the return key and close my eyes, imagining her receiving the message—imagining her face, smiling at first, but then worried about how I’m doing.

But she won’t receive it. Why isn’t anyone coming to rescue me yet? 2:35 AM

The light from the moon reflects in the water, following the tiny waves toward the shore like a glimmering path. I step out of the cramped cockpit and lie down on the soft sand. I tuck my arms into my sleeves and gaze up at the stars. I’ve never seen so many before.

The gentle waves roll up to the beach, and slap against the rocks. I need my pillow.

I need my bed.

I feel so alone.

Looking back at the trees, I wonder what’s in there—what’s on the other side. Please help me. I curl up into a ball and close my eyes—my lips tremble. 4:45 AM

I awake to movement from the shadows behind me. For a second, I forget where I am again. What’s out there? I inch closer to the jet, trying my best to blend in with the darkness. Snap! A broken branch perhaps? A falling coconut?

Another sound—this time, it’s different.

I hold my breath and focus on the trees. My insides warm and twist. My mind races, bouncing ideas around in my head about what could be out there. I want to shout out to it—perhaps it’s someone looking for me—maybe a rescue team? But why aren’t they calling out my name? Why aren’t they using flashlights? Were those voices I heard earlier?