The Lost World: Jurassic Park AU - Cathy's Crusade

Chapter 1. En Route to Paradise

Location: Isla Sorna // 207 Miles West of the Costa Rican Mainland

Crashing waves echoed off the shores of this island's jagged rocks. Light fluid sand covered every inch of the beach area. Past the beach, miles of near-endless flora made up the thick rainforest with mists covering the canopy beyond until reaching the mountainous valleys.
Here on this unfamiliar island, known to the Costa Rican populace as one of the Cinco Muertos archipelago, the scene alone presented itself just as any other tropical destination like Barbados or Maui. The oceanfront of Isla Sorna offered a seductive display of bright sun-kissed beaches that stretched as far as anyone's view with powder-white sand with each micro grain shining like gemstones reflected in the Central American sunlight. Beyond the sandy shoreline lies a beautiful and rugged terrain of rock formations, where the mighty waves of the sea relentlessly crash against the sturdy boulders. The salty ocean currents constantly splash against the rough edges of the rocks, creating a symphony of sounds that resonate throughout the area. The moist and cool air, combined with the soothing sounds of the waves, provides a serene and peaceful environment for anyone looking for a moment of respite from their daily routine. From afar, this mysterious landmass getaway Any other tourist would book the most picturesque setting for some much-needed R&R after a long period of working the daily grind.
That is if you're well connected.
Enters one such group of people with the right means and enormous amounts of money to afford such a vacation to a remote Island such as this: the Bowmen.
Coming from the U.K., the Bowman family of three arrived on this island by way of a yacht - an elegant Azimut 80 Flybridge to be exact- that was owned by the Bowman Patriarch, Paul. He was a distant yet proud Englishman who devoted much of his life to building his wealthy ambitious lifestyle as an estate owner since before his College days. Paul brought along his wife, Dierdre, a woman of criteria he met many years back to help provide her and her family a much-needed dividend for their advanced years. Which is a polite way of saying Dierdre married Paul for his money.
And finally, the littlest member of the Bowmans was their only daughter, Catherine; or simply "Cathy" to those closest to her.
This intelligent but erudite youngster on the cusp of her tenth year, joined her parents for their holiday excursion to Costa Rica before she restarted her school routine after a much-needed time in the sun.
Introducing herself into this story, the youthful Bowman heiress flits through the yacht from a cozy cabin room below deck. She makes her lively way past a few crew members with the near-agile maneuver of a ballet dancer as fast as her pattering feet take her before she bursts out the door leading to the front deck of this vessel.
Finally, outside, Cathy grabs the bars of the yacht's railing tight to relax herself gleefully in the splendor of the ocean skyline with the liveliest of ear-to-ear smiles.
The Central American sun's vibrant rays kissed the fair skin of this cutesy preadolescent English girl of a petite slender frame down to the light freckles on her rounded charming face. Her large coffee brown eyes shone like diamonds as she gazed with wonder at her blurred reflection along the rippling water's surface while the cool but warm winds swept the fine Chestnut brown strands of Cathy's long back length hair like a rippling flag.
In terms of her garments for her family's seaside day trip, Cathy came out on the sun deck garbed in a turquoise blue graphic beach shirt knotted tight above the left side of her waist. Cathy's clothing was perfect for a day out at the beach. Beneath her shirt, she had on a striking deep pink one-piece swimsuit that hugged her figure just right. To shield her face from the sun, she wore a wide-brimmed sun hat in a warm manila hue, which was adorned with a sleek black ribbon.
The overall effect was both practical and chic, making her stand out for her time on the shore.
Getting an almost clear view of Isla Sorna as her father's yacht approaches the shore, Cathy scans the panorama of the remote island from left to right as she sits sideways on the sun deck's pillowy cushion.
What Cathy mainly focused on was the large mountains that make up the island's interior. The elevated terrain was the biggest she'd ever seen in her young life as the summits were nearly high enough to be stroked by the nearest cloud drifting like a wisp.
 Through the lens of a girl like Cathy, seeing another corner of the world is like something out of a whimsical fairy tale. In her early education of the known biosphere, Cathy had never heard of this island chain off the coast of Costa Rica, like it was some sort of Neverland where Peter Pan resided or a sanctioned tourist destination under the watch of the local government. According to some nearby residents, this place was supposedly untouched by all mankind and would be a pleasant area for a private escapade for those with deep pockets.
Hence, the arrival of the affluent Bowman's.
From behind Cathy, who was spending minutes staring dreamily at the island with an expression that resembled somebody under a hypnotic trance, a voice chimed in:
"There you are! Enjoying the view, love?"
Turning her head around with a startled yelp in her gasp, Cathy sees her mother Dierdre, a middle-aged lithe woman with blonde hair in a neat bob cut that rests on her shoulders, a warm facial semblance with "chiseled" features, dark blue eyes behind a pair of dark sunglasses, a white sun hat, and also clad in her beach wear consisting of a black one-piece bathing suit as well as a cover-up robe slung from her elbows.
Dierdre approaches her daughter with a grin that looks forced.
Cathy understood what that meant.
Her parents spent a third of her childhood fighting, giving each other the cold shoulder in between their stalemates, or just not speaking to each other for days on end. This is usually what happens within a married couple, but things get dicey when finances and unpaid dues are an issue. All that wealth Paul accumulated to bring himself out of the trenches amounted to very little if more problems would arise when he started a household of his own. This left Cathy somewhat discouraged on the sidelines of her squabbling parents as well as lonely in her home. She'd hoped that this vacation would smooth things over, but it appears nothing seemed to be looking up.
All Cathy could do at the moment was perk her curved eyebrows up and fake a smile herself.
"Mm-hmm! I'm loving every minute of it, Mum!" Cathy proclaimed in forced eagerness. It's all she could do to chase the gloom from her rears' squabbling for now. Getting up from the deck seat's cushion and approaching her mom, Cathy points to the island coastline as they sail close to the perimeter. "Are we almost there now? All this rocking and rolling is making me weak in the knees."
Dierdre chuckles as she kneels to Cathy's eye level and produces a tube of sunblock to apply to her daughter's face and exposed body areas, much to the latter's fussy chagrin.
"Just about, my daring little sailoress," Dierdre says in assurance, rubbing the aforementioned sun cream on the tip of Cathy's nose, to which she makes a picky scrunch. "And bear up a little longer. It's your first time out on a boat so you'll get your sea legs adjusted in no time."
Trying to keep the mood up, Cathy then inquires about the island dead ahead.
"Mum, when we were on the mainland, I may have overheard some locals talk about this island we're visiting. Some wise woman at the pier said it's where fishermen got too close and never returned. She told me '¡eso es una isla donde viven los demonios!', or something kind of fierce."
Dierdre, at that moment, finishes getting sunscreen on Cathy's arms and pauses.
"Sweetheart...I think that's just superstition. Kinda like our relatives up in Scotland always rattling on about Nessie in her lake? Imagine if you saw something like that out here in Central America; that would be barmy at best!"
Superstition or not, this had Cathy a bit concerned.
But the girl tried her best to keep the conversation going just as her mum stroked the right amount of sunblock to Cathy's forehead, which was concealed behind her tidily clipped fringe bangs.
"Oi mum, are we going to see any big sharks or whales around here? I could've sworn I heard a rather strange noise a couple of minutes ago when I was changing in the cabin below deck. Like a rushing growl and rumbling against daddy's boat."
Dierdre stops rubbing sunblock. She paused to shift her eyes in a direction that Cathy followed. Only to get the vaguest of answers after a few seconds of pondering.
"Probably the run of the undertow, dearie. That or something in the reefs below hitting the bottom of this fancy tub. No need to worry about us getting attacked by sea monsters and the like. We'll be lucky to fish ourselves a giant squid around her for dinner."
From above the pair, a voice made an announcement that reverberated from the yacht speakers.
"Attention all hands and passengers, we'll be taking a quick detour due starboard on account of the heavy incoming tide approaching from the east. 'Until then, do take in the sights of the lush untouched Isla Sorna for a minute oceanside tour and we'll be docking in a jiffy!"
Dierdre and Cathy shrugged mutually. This meant that everybody on board would have more time to prepare for the beach outing by the time they disembarked.
"Come on, let's get out of the sun for a while," Dierdre suggests to her daughter, seizing her hand gently.
Cathy and Dierdre reenter the yacht's interior and pace down one short flight of stairs from the sun deck.
While Dierdre goes down below (and avoids her droll husband who is in a focused conversation on his phone), Cathy wanders about the bridge. Instead of rushing about like before, the girl walked about with a steady amble in her step and both hands clutched harmlessly behind her back. Wanting to pass the time in this deviation, Cathy proceeds to interact with the crewmen on the bridge.
The first man she comes up to is Bernard, a thirty-something man steering the wheel of his employer's vessel with precise dexterity.
"Ahoy there, helmsman!" she greeted with an affable wave. "Are we steady as she goes?"
"Ahoy to you as well, Lady Bowman!" Bernard acknowledged, courteously tipping his cap to the giggling Cathy before answering her query whilst he continued steering the yacht. "And yes, we'll be crossing easier waters with a myriad of fancy ship words only we grown sailors can use. In time you'll learn once you're big enough to see the world on your terms, little lass."
With a chuckle, Cathy turns her head from Bernard and becomes fixated on the local map he had spread out on a bulletin board of the island chain their closing in on. Having spent much of her vacation reading up on Costa Rica, Cathy's attention hones in on the illustration pinned on the bulletin board. The map looks to be almost a hand-drawn imitation of a nautical chart depicting the archipelago the yacht has projected a course to, and it's closing in on the southeast corner of the biggest island in the vicinity.
"Is this where we're going, right? " Cathy asked precociously, indicating the location on the map with the tip of her slim index finger. "Isla...Snore- I meant Sorna. Rather funny name, innit? 'Sarcasm Island'. Wonder if the Spanish had anything to do with that."
Bernard shrugs his shoulders while watching Cathy examine the map from the corner of his eye.
"Perhaps they had to make bets or draw straws on what they would name each island they set foot on." Bernard debated with a smirk. "And I'm betting 50 quid the most sarcastic bloke of the bunch was the winner. Lucky duck. But what's even more weird is that this very map we got from the locals only has *this* island chain. For some reason, this place doesn't show up on any other chart or atlas of the world."
"Well, that's rather bizarre. Now why would such islands be kept a secret?" Cathy muses aloud with a finger resting on her chin.
Getting a closer look after hearing Bernard's ominous input, Cathy also ponders the rather cautionary name etched on the map of the archipelago of the Bowman's destination.
Having been tutored in Spanish for the past five months, Cathy was already quick to translate the text:
"Los Cinco Muertos? Now why on earth would they name this chain 'The Five Deaths'? Ooh, maybe the Spanish buried treasure out here?"
"Sounds like you'll be even richer than your mum and dad put together. Don't tell them I said that aloud, though."
Grinning, Cathy puts a finger to her lips with a wink. A sign she confides in her family's crewman.
"Fear not, I won't tell a soul. Now carry on with care, Berny."
"Will do, ma'am."
Cathy gracefully bows her head to Bernard with a curtsy before she departs.
 Strolling from the helm, she paces by the yacht windows as the ship undulates against the thundering tide of the ocean waves below. The view of the Pacific Ocean was as calming as the sound of the waves. Continuing her jaunt, she couldn't help but indulge herself with a Pigs in a Blanket crescent roll as a treat from a laid-out plate for all to enjoy. Cathy was rather quick to do this feat with a swift twirl of her body and swipe from her hand when no one was looking.
Wolfing her snack down with a few chews and a gulp from a nearby cup of grape juice, Cathy lets out a satisfied exhale. 
As Cathy craves some fresh conversation to pass the time, she decides to approach another member of the crew. With a glint of curiosity in her eyes, she walks towards the person, hoping to strike up an interesting chat.
His name was Geoffery, an operator who was a touch older than his counterpart Bernard on account of the silver streaks in his bronze mane and beard.
Geoffery was scanning the vast barrier that made up the cluster of jagged rocks everyone avoided through the view of a cutting-edge monocular. He huffed in relief to have seen the danger coming a mile away.
 The sound of the Bowman's daughter was sufficient to distract him from the danger everyone had avoided and slightly elevate his spirits.
"Oi! Whatcha looking at, Geoffery?" Cathy asked with a mischievous grin, playfully rising on the tips of her toes as if sprung into the air, within view of his device's range.
"I'm looking at a colossal bullet we just dodged, milady. A bloody heap of 'em." Geoffery replied as he lowered his viewfinder to face Cathy with a look of amused content.
Geoffrey felt a strong connection with Cathy as he saw his daughter in her. His heart ached for his little girl back in England, but spending time with Cathy brought him a sense of comfort and joy. "I had to prod Bernard into altering our course otherwise we'd be shipwrecked along those hellish boulders! Heaven knows how we'll get help from the inland with only a few flares and limited rations."
Astonished, Cathy whistles her highest pitch as her way of saying, "That would suck so bad!!"
She merely rests either hand on her hips and grins.
"Well lucky for us, we got the best men East London ever produced watching our bums." Cathy keenly affirms. "And, you look like you got your eye on everyone here. Wonderful job, mate."
Geoffery humbly approached Cathy as she took a step back, delicately placing her hands in front of her. With great care, he proceeded to adjust the young girl's sunhat, successfully bringing a smile to her face.
"For a buzzing' little lady such as yourself, always."
Geoffery observes Cathy's subtle body language, looking at her from head to toe with an inquisitive expression. Cathy's eyes shift from her distant father on the phone to her fingers, which she is wringing. It's clear to Geoffery that Cathy is feeling down and that there is trouble brewing with her parents. To cheer her up, Geoffery picks up the monocular he was using and swings it like a pendulum from its paracord toggle lock. Cathy's eyes follow the swinging monocular curiously, like a cat fixated on a laser sight.
The swinging stops when Geoffery gently tosses the monocular in the clutch of Cathy's hands, leaving her stunned with a drop of her jaw.
"G-Geoffery? Are you giving me this??" she whispered aloud so that her dad didn't catch one of his manservants gifting a pricey-looking miniature telescope to a mere child. "My god! This must cost you an arm and a leg! Please, I couldn't, you'd lose your job..."
"No, think nothing of it, Cathy. Pay your folks no mind when it comes to their nonsense. Sometimes, we grown-ups throw bigger fits than our children. And besides, I got my old man's binoculars from his RAF days in my satchel, they never let me down once. In truth, I got these for you before we set sail thinking of you, dear. They're just the thing every would-be globetrotter from London needs to start her journey."
With an airy but ecstatic laugh, Cathy confidently thanks Geoffrey with a smooch on the cheek. She always regarded Geoffrey as an impromptu uncle figure whenever her parents were busy. Having been a client of Paul's for a while and eventually an employee of his practice, Geoffrey, Bernard, and a few others became a crucial part of Cathy's support system along with some of her schoolmates back home.
"I'll take care of this with my life, Geoffrey. Count on that." Cathy affirms, tipping her hat. "And I won't let Daddy ruin our fun here. Now and then he's got his knickers in a twist whenever he's on the phone with his office bots back home. Or so mum says.."
"Oi! Don't let him hear you, Lass," Geoffery warned, guiding Cathy away from where Paul was close to the pair and by the starboard window. "Aye, he can be a bit stern after his business was nearly shattered on the rocks, so to speak, but he provides for you and your mother. Kinda like me."
This made Cathy scoff at Geoffery's claim. Apparently, something in her memory resurfaced that was the cause of her parents' schism.
"Well, lately he's almost provided us a swift deportation after getting in trouble at the bar by the hotel."
"Apparently, the local beers weren't to Paul's liking. " Geoffery mused, scratching his beard and turned his head, and acted fast the minute he saw Paul Bowman saunter in his direction.
Acting fast, Geoffery then guided Cathy by her shoulders from to the portside windows, evading Paul who, whilst on the phone, approached the two. The Bowman patriarch had an expression that softened a bit when he glanced at Geoffery attending to Cathy.
The latter whom continued to pout:
"...or last night after supper when he scared off the neighborhood boys who wanted to show me a local dance. I wanted to learn something new to show everybody back home."
This was enough to discourage Geoffery as well.
"You're not wrong about that, Cathy. I'll give your Da' the firmest of lectures when we get back to the mainland."
Seconds later, Bernard makes an announcement: in ten minutes, they will be docking to a safer shoreline to disembark and have their outing.
"He better not muck it up like last year in Capri," Geoffrey grumbled before tapping Cathy's shoulder. "Right then, this is where we part for now. Go find your mum and get everything together."
Nodding her head, Cathy takes her leave, but not before looking out the yacht porthole window. For a split-second, she caught a glimpse of an odd-looking animal from the corner of her eye as she saw something dash into the faraway shoreline and disappear into the thick jungle shrubbery. Cathy only caught a mere glimpse of what looked like the tip of a slithering tail.
Could it have been an iguana?
"Cathy! Don't dawdle, little lady. Where's your mother at, primping in the loo?"
That came from Paul Bowman, who after ending his phone call stomped his way behind Cathy and startled his daughter with that stern question.
"She'll be out soon, Daddy," Cathy stated with a tone that was agitated but not wound up like her father.
Disregarding the mild lump in her throat, Cathy proceeded to find her backpack as Bernard steered the yacht closer to the upcoming beach to drop anchor. 
The mysterious Isla Sorna awaits the Bowmans in a few moments.