The toxic fumes are overwhelming, both in lack of visibility and potency. It concealed everyone to succumb either to the torment of their minds or the toxins. There is no room in this cave for a moral compass. Only room for to revert to their core instincts, and relive the sole purpose of existence – survive. No, this is not a reversion, but a fossilization. Nonetheless, one lesson was certainly to be learned: no good deed goes unpunished.
Through the sweat threatening to sting Gerrard’s eyes, he squinted into his telescope. The island shore was about fifty meters away, and the water pollution was becoming more and more concentrated. As the concentration grew higher, the entire crew’s anxiety rose accordingly, as the hostile environment crept closer. No one wanted to explore what the isolated toxic wasteland had to offer, nor resolve the more imminent issues it presented to their neighboring land. In total, they were just twelve young men, like fish forced to climb trees. They stood no chance ever since they stepped into the boat. Only one thing that motivated them was that their tributes would contribute to the betterment of their colony. Yes. They are going to be heroes.
“Right everyone, get the anchors ready. I see a spot on the shore where we can dock.” Gerrard announced callously. The rest, unfeeling, each blurted out an unintelligible word in acknowledgement. The shore, expanding, was finally under the boat. They have arrived.
One immediate observation to take into account was the nature of the toxic fumes. It was dense, almost like a fog, only rising up to around seven or eight feet. The haze wore a dark yellowish hue, immediately staining the crew’s hazmat suits in its shade. Everything about it screamed deadly. No sign of life could be seen throughout the land, just rocks and sand. Not even a speck of dirt could be detected. Perhaps this island has been in this state for decades, maybe even centuries. However, it naturally introduced a query – what exactly caused this island to suddenly spread its fumes to its neighboring islands. Or more importantly, how did it contain its toxic properties for so long? This line of query unsettled Gerrard, nothing about this island was natural, even down to it defying outside weather conditions.
“The density of this…fog is a lot more than I expected.” Caelin, a bright yet scrawny man, announced, “We should first secure ourselves together with a rope. Just in case one of us happens to get left behind in the fog.” The break in silence snapped Gerrard out of his thoughtful trance.
“Good thinking. God, I just know I woulda lost one of us if you weren’t here.” Caelin smiled while shaking his head, “Don’t discredit yourself sir. We all have faith in you for a reason.” Gerrard turned his head away, shaking the flattery away. It’s dangerous when compliments get into one’s head.
Everyone slowly slipped the one hundred meter long rope through the carabiners attached to their suits. Some double checking for any production flaws, triple checking, hoping for an excuse to go back home. The boat was firmly anchored, then armed with the crew’s only tracker, with each individual holding its locator. Gerrard eventually took the lead, trudging the men further inland.