three days // j. conrad

two.

At 8:47 am, ten people took off in two helicopters and headed towards the island.
There was a huge, angry, grey cloud surrounding the island. There were flashes of lightning every so often, and the wind grew stronger as they approached.
"We've got to go through it!" Greene yelled, his voice nearly lost over the helicopter blades and the roaring storm.
"Hold on tight," Markson advised.
The helicopter began to shake violently when they dipped into the cloud, debris flying past them. Wren's eyes were wide as saucers as she held the hold and her seat in a death grip, her knuckles white.
The scientists were yelling that they had to turn back, that they had to get out of this horrible situation, but their voices were lost in the chaos.
There was a loud clang and a small pop before smoke began to appear, quickly blown away by the raging storm. Something had hit them, and they were losing altitude. They appeared on the other side, island in view, and if they hadn't been damaged and falling, Wren might have taken a moment to enjoy the beautiful view. Instead she was squeezing her eyes shut and trying to focus on her breathing.
"Brace for impact!" One of the soldiers yelled before they skimmed the treetops. Wren bent double and put her head between her knees, hands on top. The scientists were screaming. The one farthest from Wren was copying her actions, but the other, Dr Kent, was still sitting up, his eyes shut tight. Wren reached up and yanked him down into position seconds before they hit the ground.
Wren was thrown from the helicopter, tumbling away a couple feet and earning a substantial scrape on her left arm. She lay there for a few moments before groaning and picking herself up, moving back towards the helicopter to help the others. One of the pilots, Greene, had already got himself out of his seat and was trying to rouse the other, Markson.
Wren helped the scientists instead. Kent was okay, still a little scared, but okay. The other, Marconi, was clutching his wrist. He was rambling about how much it hurt and whether or not it was sprained or broken.
Wren checked it; it was only sprained. Good thing too, they didn't have the resources to tend to a broken wrist.
"Markson's dead," Greene said from behind them. "Died on impact."
Kent started freaking out. "What are we going to do? Half of our protection is dead, we have no way off this cursed island, and we have no way to contact anyone to get us out. We're going to die here!" He whirled around to face the group. "I can't die here! I have a wife, kids, a great career! I cannot die here! I will not!"
Wren huffed. "We've gotta work with what we have. Marconi, take Kent to look at what survived the crash. Greene, you're on lookout. We have no idea what's out there. I'm—"
"Excuse me, Ms Riley, but you are in no position to be giving out orders. I—"
Wren cut Greene off: "I don't care if you outrank me. I don't care if you're the one with the gun. I'm the one with the plan here. If you've got a better one, speak up. If not, I'm going to get to higher ground to see if I can find a water source. We won't last long if we don't have water."
Greene hesitated before giving her a sharp nod.
Wren took a deep breath and surveyed the surrounding area from her spot. Seeing an incline, she headed in that direction and soon found a rocky hill. She scaled it with ease, and when she reached the top, she was overlooking a large river in what looked like a valley with towering cliffs on either side. Lucky enough of a place to land, she just had to hope that it was fresh water and not sea water.
She carefully made her way down the other side of the slope to the source, dipped a hand in and smelled it.
Salt water.
Wren cursed and climbed back up the hill, looking around for anything else.
Thankfully, she heard the trickle of water coming from the west.
Upon further investigation, she found a river of fresh water. Drinkable water.
She began to make her way back to the crash site.
When Wren arrived, the others had taken everything that survived out of the helicopter.
"There isn't much," Marconi told her, "lost some of the food and water, most of the equipment, but it is what it is."
"Delta Two, Delta Two come in, over," Greene spoke into one of the two walkie-talkies. "Delta Two this is Delta One, please respond, over."
He stopped when he saw that Wren had returned. "Riley, any luck finding water?"
"Yes," she told him. "A little ways west. Easy journey on foot."
"Good. We can go tomorrow. Then we can keep going and meet up with Delta Two. They landed on the western side. I can't get them on the radio, but maybe they got in okay and can get us out."
"Yes," Kent interjected. "Out would be great."
"Don't get his hopes up so soon," Wren told Greene. "We have to get there first, and even if they are okay, their helicopter may not be."
"We have to try."
Wren sighed. "Tomorrow."
They made a fire for the night and alternated watches, though Wren hardly slept anyway. As much as she hoped the other team was alive and okay, the silent radio made her worry.