Calcivore, Part I

I. Zack stared out on the Indian Ocean through which the adventure cruise made its way, they were near the famed Andaman Islands, and would probably reach them the next day. He’d paid extra cash to come out this way, to catch a glimpse of uncontacted tribes, through field glasses though, they’d not go ashore, since Zack had no real desire to die. He’d heard tales of those strange islanders, isolated here since the dang stone age, it piqued his interest, how such folk must like, and what outsiders filled them with such rage. But offshore was the closest he would get, Indian law forbade further contact, at best he could hope to catch a mere glimpse, but that would be a story to bring back! What Zack didn’t know, when he went to bed, was that an earthquake was stirring westwards, his first inkling that a rogue wave had come was when it slammed his ship broadside, and hard. It was midnight and he was thrown from his bed, the whole of the ship was hurled on its side, Zack scrambled out, still wearing his night clothes, water sloshed through the halls in a great tide. People panicked, and raced to get outside, Zack made it to a door and leapt for it, plunged into the ocean, thick with debris, the ship groaned, into the depths it did slip. He kicked hard against the vessel’s suction, clung to a deck chair just to stay afloat, in darkness he scanned the whole horrid scene, before he spotted a single life-boat. He swam for the life-raft, rubber, yellow, frantic hands grabbed him and pulled him onboard, to once more feel something under his feet… for a brief moment he forgot the horror. There were three others onboard the life raft, and the currents quickly took them away. Were others alive? He couldn’t see far, and with no oars they had no way to stay. They were now adrift, at the waves’ mercy, lost in the ocean, those pathetic four, a man named Mohinder, German named Klaus, a girl called Christine and poor Zack onboard. But they would not be cast adrift for long, since in the beating sun of the next day they all saw the green hump of an island, and towards it the current made its way. “I hope there’s somebody on that island,” said Mohinder as they drew closer still, they crested the breakers over the reef, the ocean working its chaotic will. The raft washed up slowly onto the sand, they hesitated, not believing it, then slowly stepped out onto the island, from Christine’s lips a small prayer then did slip. CONTINUES IN PART II.