Survival Challenge Gone Wrong

Chapter 2 - Day 1-2

Throb. Gen let out a whimper, twitching slightly. Waking up only to feel pain was making him reconsider waking up at all. Actually, that sounded familiar. Nevermind. He attempted to take a big breath but phlegm and salt caught in his throat, making him cough harshly.

"You're finally awake," a mysterious voice called.

Gen froze, feeling chills crawl down his spine. What- who was that? He was sure he was alone, it was supposed to be an uninhabited island... a million hyperbolic scenarios swirled in his head, from axe murderers to wild tribespeople to- actually... could this be help?

"Are you okay? Do you have a concussion? You have a lot of nasty cuts and bruises. We need to clean them as soon as possible before they get infected." The voice was deep, rather calm. Okay, that may have ruled out most of the possibilities, though it was better to check for himself.

Gen opened his eyes, lashes sticking together and blurring his vision. He blinked a few times to clear it up and gathered some energy to lift his head to see the person the voice belonged to. He didn't know what to expect, but somehow, it wasn't this.

A guy sat crouched near him, appearance a mess. His clothes were ripped and tattered, smudged in brownish stains - no doubt from the flood wave. His light hair was matted and tangled, face scratched up but looked like it was washed. Intense red eyes were staring right into his.

"Can you speak?" he asked, furrowing his brows.

"Ye," Gen garbled, coughing once more to clear his throat, "Yeah. Who are you? Did you come to save me?" His voice sounded horrid to his ears. Scratchy and cracking. Though it was probably to be expected after what just happened.

"Heh, I guess you can say that," The guy smirked, "I found you passed out when I was looking for my supplies that were washed away by the wave. Gotta say I didn't expect anyone to be here with me in this kind of place." He stood up, placing a hand on his hip. He looked down at Gen half in amusement, half concern and maybe something else mixed in. Gen did not have the strength or will to psychoanalyse him right now. It took a few moments, but he groaned once the realisation sunk in that help was not coming. Well, real help.

"So, are you okay?"

"No. Everything hurts and life is terrible," he sighed and attempted to sit up. His arms burned as he lifted himself off the ground, slouching once he finally succeeded. He glanced again at his- companion? Saviour? Murderer? And broke his gaze to look around. It was then that he noticed a small fire crackling next to them, somehow keeping aflame amidst the moist and muddy environment.

"How did you make a fire?" Gen muttered, eyes bulging. "Everything is wet." The guy snorted next to him.

"I got the washed-up branches and cut the bark off to reach the dry wood. It was a real pain in the ass, took me hours. Luckily I had a knife that didn't get washed away in my pocket. Not ideal, but it's a good universal tool." As he talked, he scratched his ear and looked around. "Answer the question. What hurts? Because it might be serious and I don't need you dying on me."

"How gallant." Gen scoffed. Nevertheless, he was relieved that the guy seemed decent enough to help out. Not enough to trust him yet but he could work with that. "I'm serious though. Everything hurts like a bitch. I don't know what's wrong exactly." Meanwhile, the guy wandered off to collect stray branches nearby. "What happened?"

He watched as the guy approached him again with the pile of branches in his arms and dumped them unceremoniously on the ground, too close to his slouched form. He proceeded to sit down and pull out a small knife, grabbed a branch and clumsily shaved the outside layer.

"Ten billion percent a tsunami. Not a huge one. I felt an earthquake about 24 minutes before the wave hit. I managed to climb a tree to avoid the worst of it, though my arms and legs sting like hell. I'm guessing you weren't so lucky." The guy spoke calmly with a hint of amusement in his voice. Gen watched attentively as he shred the bark, knife dangerously close to digging into his fingers at times. He managed a laugh in response.