Crash

6: Two weeks later

Lyra-

Two weeks. It's been two whole weeks since I've seen that helicopter. I haven't heard another helicopter anywhere around me. I set up a signal fire that, if I spotted something, I would light.

But two weeks was rather long, so so long to be completely honest. I had lost the largest portion of my hope. I didn't understand why they hadn't come back for Marcus's body. If I could get up there, I'd bring him down to bury him.

But it was far to late for that. I saw the vultures. Throwing rocks as hard as I could and shouting didn't discourage them.

Countless times over the two week period I had cried. I cried my brains out, I didn't eat for a while. I lost some of my precious fish to a thieving raccoon, which started up my appetite again. Never did catch that furry little thief.

The person my mother had spoken about in my dream had not come along. It made me question whether it was a vision or just a dream. I ambled around my camp like a zombie. Wake up, get fire wood, fish, cook the fish, get more fire wood, bed down for the night. Some days, I'd strip down and bathe the best I could in the creek.

Some nights, I'd have nightmares of the plane crash. Dreams of dying out here, or my father giving up on me. I'd wake up just before the nose of the plane hit the mountain side, screaming. Just like it happened in real life.

My routine was continuous. I lost most of my interest in living. But something powered me on, something told me that I couldn't die. Not yet.

So I held on, went with my routine, and barely existed.

I sighed heavily and looked up at the bright moon. I was tired of how I was living right now.

I absentmindedly sharpened my spear. Carving small, intricate designs in the wood just for the hell of it. I held it just above the heat of my fire to harden it.

Pulling back into my cave, I tugged my tarp door down over the entrance and curled up in my sleeping bag. I closed my eyes and succumbed to sleep.

Boom.

I sat upright, was this a nightmare? Thunder rolled above, rattling me. This was no dream.

Peeking out of my tarp door, I looked around. I could barely see, the moon had been covered by thick, angry clouds. They were almost red, signifying that it was around dawn.

Lightning slashed over the tops of the adjacent mountain peak. Suddenly, like someone pulled a lever, rain poured down. I couldn't see anything, the thunder drowned out any other noises, the lightning terrified me. As the rain poured down, I watched the creek flood dangerously, washing away my help sign. It reminded me of monsoon season.

Lightning struck a close tree, yet it didn't catch fire in the rain. I pulled my head back inside the cave.

Huddling at the back near my things, I poked at the fire, desperately trying to regenerate some warmth. A long while later, a strange sound started. It sounded like thick, choppy waves and rocks clashing.

Fear swept through me as I looked outside cautiously. The rain had lessened just a little bit, allowing me to barely see. Looking at the other mountain side, I saw a black wave sliding down the mountain. My heart thudded in my chest. 

A mudslide. 

My cave rumbled as early streaks of the mudslide on my mountain began. I heaved in terrified breaths and scrambled to the back of my cave, pressing myself against the rough rock.

Dark sludge and rock washed over the outside of my tarp, some of it oozing into the mouth of my cave. The two mudslides clashed violently outside with a rumble.