He stepped outside cautiously, to search for material to make his floating escape craft. But he heard more gunfire from the planes, which sounded like an old Singer sewing machine, stitching the ground with bullets. There was also machine gun fire coming from the ground. Nikolas could see the traces of the bullets racing upward. Then came a continuous buzzing noise that pierced the morning air and invaded his eardrums. It was triumphant music to his ears. A few moments later, he spotted plumes of smoke and flames engulfing the small airplane, as it dove nose-first, disappearing into the dark water. Nikolas wondered if another plane would eventually come in search of the survivors, or if they would send a rescue ship.

***

Nikolas sat next to Anna for over an hour, unable to make a decision. If there were others on the island he should go and find them now that the plane had been destroyed. He asked Anna, who readily agreed that he should explore the area.

Nikolas kissed her and left hurriedly, estimating that it would take him about fifty minutes to reach the post. The island itself was no more than ten square kilometers and he had to cross the entire island, walking over the difficult terrain. As he was striding along, the sight of spring wildflowers brought him a sense of comfort and hope. He could relate to the flowers―fighting to survive through an inhospitable rocky soil. He was careful not to step on them, respecting their ordeal to survive.

His thoughts were shattered when he heard a gunshot. He fell on the ground and took cover underneath a bush. He listened carefully as he waited for some time, but there was only silence. He slowly got up and continued walking, this time at a quicker pace.

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The cool wind was a relief to his perspiring face. Nikolas checked his watch and it was a little after four, some twenty minutes since he had heard the lone gunshot. When he arrived at the bombed site, he could not believe his eyes. He sprinted toward the rubble, where smoke was spilling out. He pushed and shoved broken concrete and splintered wood that had fallen into an underground chamber.

He searched around in the smoky haze and dust-filled space. The afternoon sun's rays were piercing through openings in the roof. The light created geometric patterns on the dirt floor, like theater spotlights. Nikolas saw a puddle of blood. Clearing his eyes, he saw the bodies of two men lying close to one another. Seeing the red lights of a field radio, the thought of calling for help rushed through his mind. His instinct for survival became stronger than ever. After hesitating for a moment, he went over to the men on the floor.




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