Part I
The scenes are often frozen.
This one was no different.
Our ship cut through the ice like a knife.
It wasn’t as thick as I expected.
This only added to the dangers that were to follow.
The cabin was where we were to stay. Our new home was surrounded by thick forest with no way to tell if there was civilization for miles. Ahead of us in the ice, sat a small island, with some sort of building. It felt religious.
Our new home, a massive tourist location, was quite spacious and could easily house hundreds of people, But most of the beds had no mattresses, no softness to be found. It’s rooms bore thin walls.
Its clear the building had fallen into serious disrepair. There was a gift shop by the back entrance, a large dining area and a common seating room. One could imagine it being lively.
Upon arrival, we began to note the gravity of what was happening. No heat. No hosts?
Suddenly, 20 or so strangers, all with their own tech and luggage had to depend on each other for survival, only we didn’t know it.
Every personality ‘type’ seemed to be represented of course, what kind of reality show/experiment/getaway would it be if we didn’t have plants? I was wrong, thinking back to this. There were no plants. There was no plan.
It wouldn’t be that kind of show though. There were no directors. It was just us. The ship was gone. We were alone.
After the first few days passed, we realized we were completely trapped. We’d been sternly warned not to leave the cabin by our boat guides, as a fall through the ice would mean a swift death. We questioned why we would be brought to such a place.
There was power thankfully, and devices were charged. Recording was constant, whether interviewing one another, talking to our non existent audience or documenting what was happening.
Groups were formed naturally, and we started trying to make a place that could protect us. My tasks included building, allocation and entertainment. During my extra time, I worked to fix the various arcade machines that were in a lobby.
Mini forts were created with sleeping bags and extra clothing. A solemn comradery was formed. Food was not a problem, as a massive basement held what looked to be endless supplies. Tools and weapons also seemed to be plenty.
Our fear was the constant looming threat of freezing. We managed a few trips to attempt to figure out firewood. A large fireplace near the main entrance was our main form of survival, and one person was tasked to tend to it at all times.
The retreat had been slated to last two weeks. After a month, we realized they may never come back for us. What had been the point? To teach us a lesson? Conspiracies abounded, but nothing solid emerged.
In the second month, one of my bunk mates noticed a warm glow emanating from the island. We wondered who was there and if they had outside communication. Was it safe to cross the ice?
The community was split. Half believed we could continue to survive and thrive as long as we had food and a way to keep warm. The other half believed that whomever or whatever was on that island would have a way to communicate and rescue us.
A team of 8 was formed to traverse the ice.
Part II is now published. You can find it here.