The Island

Chapter 3

Mia | Day 1

I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the panic I knew was about to commence. It happened when my flight landed too, after we realized what had happened. 

The tall girl that had been thrown off the plane stared at me, brows scrunched together in concentration, "What do you mean deserted?" she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"There's no one else on this island. There's no buildings, no people. It's just us." I stated. "We've been here for atleast three hours, waiting for you guys to land. We were going to try to get onto the plane and make them take us back."

The girl rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Did you think they would feel threatened by a bunch of teenage girls?"

I crossed my arms, mimicking her stance and shot back, "Well if they didn't feel threatened by us, we wouldn't be here, would we?"

That shut her up. She kept opening her mouth like she was going to say something, but she stayed quiet. The girl next to her stepped forward, clutching her stomach, "I think I'm gonna throw up." My group that had been clustered around her quickly stepped back, allowing her space.

"Go puke in the woods, otherwise it'll smell once the sun gets to it." I spoke from experience; one of the younger girls in my group had a panic attack once we landed and threw up in the sand. We had to move camp because it began to cook in the heat.

She nodded her head and ran off towards the trees. 

The tall girl shook her head, pity in her eyes, looking after her as she ran off, "So, do you have a plan? What are we supposed to do? Where's our luggage?" 

"They didn't drop it off with us. We only have our carry-on bags. Our plan is to do the same thing for the other two flights, and try to get inside of them. It's the only thing we can do, we don't have phones or anything to get a hold of the other girls." I answered.

She nodded her head and plopped down in the sand. "I'm Bankesha. That was Michigan who just ran off," she looked up at the rest of her group that had fallen silent behind her, "and uh, I don't know anyone else so.."

I looked up and scanned the new group expectantly, and one by one they each introduced themselves. My group did the same, and by the time we had finished, Michigan had returned, a cell phone in her hand. 

"Whoah. Wait where the fuck did you get that?!" I yelled, jumping towards her. 

Bankesha jumped up too, and Michigan held the phone close. "Will you two calm down for a second I'm trying to get some bars." She held up the phone towards the sky, squinting, looking at the screen.

"Un-fucking-believable." I muttered. 

"Ah hah! One bar!" she typed a message and then looked up at us smiling, "I just texted my friend, she's on the fourth flight. I don't know anyone on the third, but I told her it's a trap and to make a plan."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Uhm, okay. That's..a good idea, yeah," I paused for a second and then repeated my earlier question, "but, where did you get that phone? We got searched before we got on the planes."

She smirked and slipped the phone into her pocket, a girl behind her giggled knowingly, "They didn't search everywhere."

It was quiet for a few too many moments, and then Bankesha spoke up, "..What the fuck does that even mean?"

Michigan and the girl behind her broke into a fit of laughter, and then she stopped and said, "Okay well we're gonna go explore the island, I'll let you know if I get a reply." And they ran off. 

Left in the awkward air of what had just occured, Bankesha broke the silence, "..Well, that was fucking nasty. Remind me not to touch that phone."

A few of the girls in the crowd, including me, chuckled, equally grossed out and we sat down in the sand.

No one knew what to say. What do you say, when you find out the liklihood of getting off a deserted island is horrifyingly low? Especially when you know it wasn't some kind of accident; this was done on purpose. We were meant to be left here. 

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What seemed like a couple hours later, Michigan and her friend returned to the group. "No reply. " she answered when she saw my questioning and hopeful look. 

I gave a sigh of defeat and pushed my feet into the warm sand. "We just need to be quicker this time. We need to be right here when the plane lands so we can climb right in."

"Yeah and then what? In case you didn't notice, the cops on the planes have guns, we have nothing. They're not going to listen to us." Bankesha argued.

"Well we have to try something!" I snapped. 

"Hey! Stop arguing! Save your energy for when we have to run." A girl behind me spoke up. I turned around to find the voice, and a girl with red hair was standing up looking at us.

"What are you talking about? Running?" I asked her.

She nodded and gave a look like I was stupid, "If you two would stop yelling for five seconds, you would've heard it already."

Just as I was about to ask her what drugs she was taking, she pointed up into the sky and my gaze followed. A plane.

"Shit." I heard Bankesha yell, but I was already running. The plane was headed towards the other side of the island. I heard running behind me, yelling, but it was all a blur. I was about to cut through the jungle when someone pulled me back.

"Are you crazy?! You don't know what's in there yet! We have to run along the beach!" The redhead was yelling my face, pulling me, pointing towards the water. 

"We don't have enough time we have to get to the-"

"Just RUN." She yelled, and grabbing my hand, yanked me the other way, to the beach, following the rest of the crowd.

I could already hear the plane getting lower, landing. They tricked us. Was all that was running through my mind. Why do they hate us? I sped up, tripping over the sand but holding my ground, desperate to catch up. We're going to die here. 

We turned the corner and the plane came into view, it was already on the sand, engine still running, the door was opening. "GO GO GO" I screamed. The girls in back of me pushed forward, yelling, waving their hands to warn the girls. The redhead who had grabbed me was running too, more desperately now, heading moving back and forth as she looked through the windows and at the line of girls exiting the plane, as if she was looking for someone. 

I felt like I was going to throw up. The faces of the new group of girls looked shocked, confused. Unlike the last flight, this time more girls were able to leap back into the plane. But as soon as I reached the door, leaping towards it to get inside, the door swung open, hitting me square in the chest. Taken aback by the sudden force, the air flew out of my lungs and I crashed to the ground, holding my boobs and trying not to scream out, holding back tears.

I looked up to the door to see what had opened it so forcefully, and was met with the face of a cop. He had a gun in the air and was standing with his legs apart, blocking the entrance to the door. There were no more girls on the plane now, they must have been pushed out while I was on the ground. 

The cop put two fingers up to his mouth and whistled. Suddenly, everything went silent.

"LISTEN UP. IF ANY OF YOU TRY THAT AGAIN, I WILL NOT HESITATE TO SHOOT YOU."

My heart was thundering in my chest, and beads of sweat were slipping down my neck. I heard some girls behind me whimper. 

"NOW THERE IS ONE MORE FLIGHT OF DETAINEES ON THE WAY. IN THAT PLANE IS YOUR LUGGAGE. IF YOU BRATS ATTACK THAT FLIGHT LIKE YOU JUST DID HERE, YOU WILL NOT RECIEVE YOUR LUGGAGE, I CAN GUARANTEE YOU THAT."

And with that, the officer stepped back into the plane, slamming the door closed, and we stayed there in the sand silently, watching helplessly as the plane took off.