Wrecked

The 42

My body tensed up as I pushed the door open, half of me expecting to set off another trip wire. I pushed the door open in slow motion trying to take everything in.

"For gods sake, open it already." Jesse reached from behind me, his front pressing up against my back in order to shove the door open.

"What if there's a-" There wasn't. The way Jesse barged threw the door way, ducking his head on his way, told me that thought hadn't even crossed his mind.

"Relax, princess, I'm actually capable of keeping people alive." His blow hit me hard, my mouth involuntarily let out a huff of air. I could physically feel my heart tug, hating the fact that he had the ability to make me feel this way. I covered it though, easily, by throwing him a grimace of disgust.

Trying to preoccupy myself I decided to have a look around the shack. It was no bigger than two meters by two meters and only had one bench with an accompanying chair. The interior matched the exterior, the wood worn down and rustic looking. The vines were growing threw the small openings between each wood panel, small insects crawling around the surfaces. I wasn't afraid of bugs, luckily.

My attention was drawn to the bench, which took over half of the tiny room. Jesse was already standing over it, his neck bent at an uncomfortable angle as he reached out for the only thing on that bench.

It stood out like a sore thumb, the clean white paper only dirtied around the edges- but it definitely didn't belong here. His fingers scooped it up, bringing it closer to his face so that he could make out the words that were written.

His face was screwed up as he tried to decipher what the note meant. Impatient, I ripped it from his hands – eager to see what we were dealing with. It was a small list, only about 15 combinations of letters and numbers. Each combination had two letters and 2 or 3 numbers; it felt familiar until my eyes fell upon the 10th combination on the list.

MJ27.

That was the number of our flight. The flight we had been on before this all happened. The flight that someone had taken down to get to me. How had this ended up here? My heart was up in my throat, accelerating with no sign of stopping. There were here, someone was on the island. Someone who wanted me dead. If Jesse hadn't been in the room I would have allowed my self to break down but I had to remain calm- act as if this was news to me.

"It's just a bunch or random numbers and stuff, someone probably got stranded here and went crazy. No big deal." Shoving the paper roughly into my pocket I prayed that he wouldn't stop me. 

He didn't, but it did cause an eyebrow to be raised before he shrugged it off. No one else had a reason to be suspicious; to them it was just a terrorist bombing that had gotten them stranded on this island. This note would only mean something to me. And Darcy. Why would they just leave this here? Unless they wanted me to know they were still here.