Immortal Adventurers

The year was 2006, the exact location of the island 'Capiabura', meaning secret in ancient Swahili, could not be interpreted, so our eyes were the only navigators at hand. We were hovering in a helicopter, a little over 50 feet above the Pacific. The mist had cleared and a huge mass of land had come into picture.

The pilot spoke surely, “There it is!”

My head turned simultaneously with the guide, a dark and middle aged man who wore a wrinkled and wise face. The island was green and highlighted a vast wildlife. We picked up what we would need for the trip and soon disappeared into the thick vegetation.

We had traveled for an approximate of three quarters of the day; however we still had a lot of energy left in us. We called for the night in an unusual clearing in the jungle. This clearing had been at least two acres in size. Doubt slowly crept into my mind. The night was quiet, only the sound of content crickets filled the nightly atmosphere and soon the natural symphonies made everything go black.

The next day, we had begun the day by eating some of our protein bars and moved further into the forest, as we traversed deeper into the green, we saw a sight that was uncalled for.
The pilot, a man who shared typical Nordic features: blue eyes and blonde hair, was found putting his head through a blanket of leaves, "OH MY… , “ he was interrupted by the distinct drilling sound and the hammering of metal.
The sight had bewildered me, 500 visible people were found working around huge metal cylinders that seemed to be the modern icons of war, nuclear weaponry and other weapons of mass destruction.

My eyes widened, this was the last thing I would’ve expected to see in an uninhabited ‘Capiabura’. I turned to the pilot in shock, his expression was mutual and the expression of the guide was quite like ours.
I took a couple of steps back and exclaimed “the army must know about this, this is mass terrorism!”. The symbols on the weapons depicted skulls on their shiny metal surfaces.
Vague thoughts began to creep into my head, “Escape, heroism or death?”
Soon we had heard a couple of footsteps marching towards us. Before I could think of something, I heard the sound of metal clicking. A gun!

An hour later, we had been locked in a bunker with our hands tied using plaster. We were found by men who were part of the huge projects. Fear embraced my body; my heart was pounding at an unbelievable pace. I tried standing up using the walls support and then I slowly moved towards the metal grill in the bunker and noticed a guard holding a gun. He seemed to be a native. I gestured to the pilot and guide to stand up and get ready.
“Tch, Tch. Hey, thirsty, thirsty. Water!” I spoke with a dare. To my surprise, he took the bait and got a bottle of water into the bunker. All it took was a right uppercut and a left hook and the guard fell unconscious. We were free. I soon ran, followed by the pilot, holding a gun and the guide. The guide took the lead; he had understood that we would be shot down if we tried to escape, so we thought of foiling the plans of utilizing the mass destruction weaponry. The pilot and I followed the guide and soon found our way around with the help of the guide’s knowledge.

With an array of stealthy moves, we slowly entered the terrorist base. The pilot pointed out a system a couple of hundred meters away and breathed a sigh of relief. We walked into the warehouse where the pilot signaled us to move. What stood in front of us was a huge “Radio Transmitter’, sometimes used to send messages. I sat down on the seat, showing my experiences with these devices and started tapping familiar buttons. To my shock we had been sighted, again! The pilot pointed the gun towards the man who had seen us, but then put it down knowing the sound will only attract more men. The pilot began sprinting and caught up with the escaping man and pinned him down. “Yes, now we need only wait for the navy, they will be here in approximately ten minutes” said I contentedly.

The navy arrived, arrested the guilty and appreciated us for our valor. The pilot, guide and I were huddled together and were talking. Soon I heard a couple of men talking, “These men are truly the ‘Immortal Adventurers’.”

‘Indeed’ I thought with a slight smile!

Know the Author:
I am Kavin Chengalpatu from 9B. My hobbies include writing fiction, drawing and sports.