Seattle, WA – Mar 1, 2012
A few hundred people have gathered in a chilly local public park. Chaos is rampant, as there are a couple of soccer balls, disc golf discs and the occasional football flying through the air. Chatter is lively and friendly, mostly about mathematics, electronics and philosophy. A few picnics have managed to find their way amongst the hectic excitement of the event, even though there would be food served later. Several winded looking folks could be seen chasing a tall, skinny lad around the park trails.
People slowly drifted into the park from all corners of the United States, and indeed the entire globe. Every single person in the park was here for one reason alone: they were all invited in a manner that could not be turned down. Fare to this momentous occasion, as well as sleeping arrangements at a five star hotel, were all provided for by several anonymous sources. This comes as no great surprise, however, considering the group’s affinity to charity.
A chill wind began to blow, as a small black van pulled into a lot near where the group was stationed. A very tired looking man with a great beard stepped out of the rear of the van, followed by what appeared to be two bodyguards. After a few moments of setup, he was given a makeshift podium and a bullhorn. Everyone in the crowd stopped and stood silent, anxiously awaiting the man’s speech.
“My great community,” the man started, in a shaky, somewhat reserved voice, “I bring you all here today to show you something. Something marvelous. Something secret. I…” he paused, showing great trepidation, “I can’t say any more than that. I simply have to let you see for yourselves. You’ll never believe me.” Three more men in suits emerged from the van, holding boxes full of what appeared to be envelopes. The bearded man attempted to slip away from the crowd in the ensuing the confusion, only to wind up herded back into the back of the van by two of his apparent protectors. The men locked the doors of the van, and began handing out envelopes to the crowd. A bodyguard in a black three piece suit picked up the bullhorn as envelopes were being handed out, instructing that there would be free food at a nearby hotel. Voices from the crowd engulf you, and somewhere from the chaos around you, an envelope is shoved into your hands, and you are calmly told to go back to your hotel for the night without opening the envelope.
Later in the evening, you wind up back in your room, sitting in an easy chair. The envelope is in your hands again, being twirled over unconsciously. An uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach surfaces. This was not what you were expecting at all. You were expecting a couple of fun days in the chilly Seattle weather at the annual meet-up with your Bay12 fellows. Instead, you got an envelope. Moving by themselves, your fingers begin to peel open the envelope. You can’t help yourself, you must know what’s going on. Inside the envelope is a boarding pass. The only things recognizable on the boarding pass are the date, time and gate of the flight, the letters “SEA” in the From portion of the ticket, and oddly enough, your screen name under Passenger. The rest of the ticket looks to be utterly and completely garbled nonsense. You contemplate throwing the ticket in the fireplace for a moment, but you can’t seem to find a way to slip out of this mess unnoticed. Lying on the bed, you stare at the ceiling until almost midnight, when you hear a soft hissing noise coming from the air vents of the room. Having seen way too many movies to not realize what’s happening, you hustle to the balcony door of your room, pulling your shirt over your face. It is of course locked, and the chair you heave at the plate glass bounces off harmlessly. Before you make it to a window, you pass out from fumes of sweet smelling pink gas seeping through your shirt.
When you awake, you are seated comfortably in a seat. You look around to find that you are in the first class portion of a luxury passenger jet, seated next to a window. Most of the other passengers are sleeping, or groggily waking up. Happily, you find that you are unrestrained. You look out the window to find that the sun is excruciatingly bright, and you cannot see through the clouds below you. Ill at ease, you shift in your seat, hearing something crinkle in your pocket. You reach your hand in and find that you have nothing that you would normally carry, only a slip of paper. It is the complete boarding pass, folded up crisply, and otherwise unmarked. A flight attendant walks up and down the aisle, offering people water, which you find hard to refuse but are still skeptical about. Just to make sure, you check the seal on the bottle, and find that it is generic, but not tampered with. Satisfied, you slake your parched mouth with what tastes like tap water.
A loudspeaker chirps on, startling everyone in the cabin but the stewardess, “Good morning, this is your Captain speaking.” You do not recognize the voice of the generically American accent. “We are currently cruising at an altitude of 37,500 feet. The wind is from the southwest, and we are headed to Ad…” The voice is cut off by a deafening roar from outside the plane, as everything around you shakes wildly. You look out the window to see nothing but a stream of black smoke and sparks. The speakers in the cabin begin to screech wildly for a moment before eerie silence sets in. The plane is rocked by another explosion, and another. Smoke begins to pour into the cabin from a fire in the cockpit. Machine gun fire makes the plane stutter and jerk as it rips through the wing and underside of the fuselage. You look out the window one last time and see a grey fighter marked “USAF” falling sharply away from your plane, before another explosion rocks the plane. You smack your forehead against the window and are knocked unconscious.
You find yourself lying face down on a sunny, but chilly beach. The freezing cold ocean waves wash over you, jolting you awake, and forcing you to your feet. From where you are standing, you can see that you are in a bay of some sort. You feel the ticket in your pocket, leaving you utterly and completely confused. There is white sand stretching around the bay, and to your north lies what looks like pine trees. There is a soft breeze around you and the five others on the beach. It is almost noon. This was not what you were expecting at all.
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Topic: The Island (Nightfall, day 3!) (Read 16956 times)