ESCAPE, A New Life

by David J Antocci

  He did not answer. Just then a helicopter flew close in overhead, buzzing the speeding boat. It slowed and made a wide circle around the boat. Abby and Eric watched it and saw a man hanging out of the bay door, holding what looked like a camera. As the helicopter came in closer they saw the man was waiving. Abby and Eric looked at each other in confusion. It was Robert. The pilot of the boat honked the air horn and waived back as the helicopter got out in front to lead the boat back to the island.

  Eric hit the pilot of the boat on the arm to get his attention. “What the hell is going on here?”

  The man smiled, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, brother. But when we get back to that island over there, we’ll tell you all about it.”

  25

  AS THE BOAT approached the dock, Abby and Eric could see a small group of people waiting for them in the distance, all talking with what appeared to be great excitement. There was a man amongst them with a small camera following the boat as it came in, and another with a boom microphone. The man standing in the middle was obviously in charge. Robert. He was speaking very animatedly to the four or five others who were there, and wildly waving his arms as he recounted some story.

  The boat had not even stopped at the dock yet when Eric leapt off, walking straight toward the group with purpose in his step. They were all smiling, until Eric pounced on Robert, wrestling him to the ground. They scuffled for a moment until the other men easily pulled him off. He was furious, but his body was worn and weak. He did not have much fight left in him. Abby came running up from behind and grabbed onto Eric around his waist. It appeared that she was holding him back, but they both knew she was holding him up.

  He said through heavy breaths, “What the hell is going on here, Robert? You have a helicopter? You better have a damn good explanation.”

  Robert held up his hands. Walking up to them, he put a hand on each of their shoulders. “This is going to be a lot to swallow,” he said. “We usually do this under much more ideal circumstances. Much more controlled circumstances. But you two have not given us much of a choice this time around, have you?”

  Abby and Eric looked at each other, neither had any idea what he was talking about.

  “The two of you are on a very successful television show called Trial Island.”

  Abby was stunned. “What?”

  “It’s true,” Robert said. “This island, it is a television show. One of the biggest shows around in fact.”

  “I ain’t never heard of it,” Eric said. “How big could it be?”

  “There is a good reason for that,” Robert said. He explained the memory wipe, but they did not quite believe him. “Think about it. You do not remember how you got here. But more important, when you arrived, you found that your bodies were different than they should be, correct? You felt stronger, and fit? That is because for the two months prior to landing on the island you were in a hardcore boot camp getting in shape and getting drilled basic on survival skills until you could do them in your sleep.”

  Abby remembered her first day on the island, when she looked down at her stomach and thought it appeared smaller than it should. It also had not gone unnoticed to her that she was a very strong swimmer, despite never having spent much time in the water until the past few weeks.

  “I know you have not seen a mirror in a month, but when you do, you are going to look very different than you think you should.”

  They stood in silence for a moment, processing this information. Eric finally spoke, looking over at Abby. “I agree with Em.”

  “About what?”

  “You look great. But there’s no way I’d believe you’re twenty-two.”

  Abby laughed and Robert smiled, as they seemed to be relaxing and warming up to the idea.

  Abby said, “I wouldn’t believe most of what happened in the last few weeks, so I guess this isn’t that strange, comparatively.”

  “Listen,” Robert said, “we have hot food, hot showers, and warm beds waiting for you back at the house. You have had a long month, and one hell of a long day. We will go back to the house, clean up, and have a proper meal. We will talk about this some more once you have rested.”

  Abby examined Robert’s face. Sincere. That is how she would describe him. She nodded her head yes.

  Eric smiled at Robert. “You haven’t steered us wrong yet. I’ll bite.”

  They climbed up into an open-air truck for the short ride. Robert excitedly talked about the show. He filled them in on the big picture overview. What the show was, how popular it is, and how many millions have been watching them for the last few weeks.

  “It is going to be an unbelievable finale. When you guys went into the cavern I thought for sure you were dead. You have to understand that there have been a handful of others who have gone in there over the last ten years. Not one of them lived to tell about it. The audience is going to assume you are dead, too. We will do a whole segment on how dangerous it is. That it is certain death, et cetera. We will really play it up. When they find out you not only lived, but also escaped the island, America will go nuts! You will be the biggest celebrities in the country!”

  It was all a lot to process. Abby thought it would probably be easier if she could remember the show. Certainly she must have watched it in the past. “Will we get our memories back?”

  “Absolutely.” He explained the chip implant and how it worked. “It is a super-simple procedure. The toughest part is psychological, you know, getting all of those memories back at once. We have a little less than thirty-six hours until we air the live show, so we have time.”

  “Wait,” she said. “Are we not going to remember each other?” She looked at Eric, panicked.

  “No, do not worry. You will remember each other just fine. You will not forget anything that has happened since the memory wipe; you will just remember everything before it in addition.”

  “Good,” Eric said, pulling Abby close and kissing her on the forehead. “What about Emily?”

  “That is a heartbreaker,” Robert said. “She was just a few weeks away from the one-year mark. That is the other way you can win. Either escape the island, or survive for a year. We are contacting the family as you and I are speaking. She will be flown back to the States for a proper burial.”

  Abby asked, “So Tom was close to a year too, then? How would that have worked, had he won?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Eric knew what she meant. “He killed all those people. Doesn’t he win but just wind up in jail?” Eric was suddenly struck with a thought, “Wait a second…”

  Robert read his mind, “Your hands are not exactly clean either, are they Eric? Do not worry. The island is privately owned. We are part of a chain of thousands of islands in the Philippines. The laws in these parts of the world are fairly flexible, and although you do not remember it, all of the contestants sign off on a stack of waivers about an inch thick. There are no legal repercussions for anything that happens on the island.”

  Abby asked, “How is that possible? People are dead. Someone has to answer for that!”

  “That is a risk of the show. It is a risk that all contestants are made fully aware of. For the chance to participate, though, all of the contestants sign off on hold harmless agreements that release everyone – the producers, financiers, other contestants, et cetera – from any legal liability in the event of death, dismemberment, or any other type of injury. The paperwork and legalese are exhausting, but the gist of it is that it’s anything goes out there, and legally everyone agrees to just that.”

  Eric breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You were just defending us anyway,” Abby said, patting his leg.

  As they crested a hill, a grand mansion came into view. It was a massive Victorian-style structure painted a very muted sage green with brilliant white trim all around. A large tower rose up from the center of the mansion, topped with a conical roof. The many arches of the large portico that ran across the front of the home were each indi
vidually lit, making the home stand out against the dark sky behind it.

  “Welcome home,” Robert said as he helped them out of the truck. Several assistants came out of the house to greet them. After several rounds of congratulatory handshakes, Robert appointed several of the assistants to show Abby and Eric to their rooms so they could clean up and rest while dinner was put together. Robert pointed out the long hallway they would follow to their rooms, and that the large dining room was directly on the other side of the foyer.

  “When you are ready, just find your way back here.” He paused and motioned for them both to come in for a group hug. “I’m so proud of you two.”

  ********************

  Back in her room, Abby could not have imagined sleeping in two places that were more different than last night and tonight. It was less than twenty-four hours ago that she found Emily’s camp and had spent the night on a thin cloth that was covering a pile of leaves. As she looked around the exquisitely appointed room where she would be spending this evening, she felt it was a completely surreal experience.

  She walked down the gleaming hardwood floors of a short hallway within the room and found a bathroom. She chuckled. Never in her life had she imagined she would be so happy to see a toilet. The bathroom was covered in marble and shiny chrome, with a large glassed-in shower that was bigger than any closet Abby had used in her life. She had a month’s worth of sand, dirt, salt, and grime to wash off, and wasted no time stripping down and immersing herself in the hot water cascading from the enormous showerhead.

  Getting out of the hot shower she caught her muted reflection in the foggy mirror. Taking a thick facecloth, she wiped the mirror clean and stood back to look at herself. Robert was right. The woman who stared back was not entirely who she expected to see. She was Abby, but she did not quite recognize the person she saw in the mirror. She was lean, cut, and tough. If she saw herself walking down the sidewalk after dark, she would cross the street. She noticed what looked like very faint stretch marks on the underside of her abdomen. Looking straight down, they were not visible. She could only make them out in the mirror faintly. She chuckled and patted her stomach. She must have put on a few pounds over the years, before she got in shape again.

  She wrapped herself in a thick plush robe and found her way back to the main room. As happy as she was to see the toilet and shower, the bed offered the most irresistible invitation. It was covered with a thick, white down comforter and a pile of pillows larger than any one person could use. Abby ran her hand over the comforter. It was, in fact, softer than anything she had felt in the past month, possibly the softest thing she had ever felt in her life.

  Abby collapsed into the bed, allowing the soft down to envelop her and suck her in. She was not lying on the bed; she had become part of the bed. For a few moments, she tried to keep her eyes open, but it was a futile effort. The running, the struggles, the fights, and the sleepless nights all caught up with her at that moment. Within seconds, she was out cold.

  Like most nights since she had been hit over the head just after escaping the trap, her sleep was restless, interrupted by nightmares of being chased by the faceless blond man. This episode was cut short by a loud rap on her door that startled her awake.

  The loud knocking started again, “One minute,” she called. She looked in a mirror and noticed the sleep lines on her face. It felt as though she had only been out for a few minutes. It must have been longer though. She opened the door to find Robert standing there.

  “Hello, Abby.” Looking down and seeing her bathrobe he asked, “I can come back if you like. I am sorry.”

  “No, no, what is it?”

  He looked up and down the hall, “Would you mind if I come in just for a few moments?”

  She stood back and swung the door open to show him in. She closed the door behind him. Abby could tell he seemed nervous or unsure about something. After walking in the room he just stood, awkwardly, looking at her.

  Finally he spoke, “We have been here before you know. Together.”

  “Oh?” She raised her eyebrows, eyes opened wide. “Really?”

  “No, not like that. I just meant we have been in this room together before. Not that we have been together,” he said, making the air quotes. “Abby, last time we were here, you and I had quite the talk.”

  “So, what did we talk about?”

  “That is why I am here.” He pulled a sealed envelope from his pocket and held it up. “This is a letter that you wrote to yourself, before we wiped your memory. I assume I know most of what is in here based on the conversation we had, and I am willing to help you in any way I can. However, you gave me specific instructions to give this to you as soon as you got off the island, and that I am not to answer any questions you might have about your past. I also cannot answer any questions regarding why you may have left yourself any particular instructions.” He handed her the letter.

  “Have you read this?”

  “I have not. In my particular position, it is probably best that I do not know all the details. Besides, you filled me in on everything I need to know. I am glad that you made it back from the island, I truly am. But I have a feeling that your real adventure is just beginning.”

  “I’ve already had quite the adventure. I woke up on some strange island and have been surviving there for the past month. Apparently, along the way, I somehow became some sort of amazing fighter. How does that happen?”

  “Everyone gets trained. Life-saving skills, things that will serve you well on the island, but you had much more at stake than the average contestant and took your training much more seriously than I have ever seen anyone before. Given your particular situation, I arranged for extra hand-to-hand combat training. It served you well on the island, and I think you will find that it will in the future, as well.”

  She held the sealed envelope in her hand. Part of her wanted to rip it open; the rest of her could not possibly imagine what it might say. She may have even been a little scared to open it. “What exactly is your particular position? Are you some sort of talent wrangler for the show or something? Some rodeo clown to make sure we don’t get out of control?”

  He laughed. “Something like that. Yes, as you have noticed, I try to keep things on track when I am on the island. I am not always there, though. I have many other things going on, but I am glad I was there for your stay.”

  “What kind of other things do you have going on?”

  “Well, I was not much of a public figure from the time that you remember. However, I am fairly well known now. I am a businessman, I guess you would say.”

  “What kind of business?”

  He laughed again, “Whatever kind makes me money. I started in travel and communications, but television has been my game for the last ten years. I own this show, Abby.” He gestured around them. “I finance all of this. The islands, the house, the show, pretty much everything.”

  Abby was a bit stunned. “So this man that I’ve gotten to know, running through the woods and eating rabbit stew, turns out to be some sort of eccentric millionaire?”

  “I have been called a lot of things, but eccentric is probably the nicest. It would be eccentric billionaire actually, but who is counting?” he smiled. “I meant what I said though. I can help you, and I am willing to. Just let me know what you need. You should get dressed and come join us for now. Eric seems pretty lonely down there without you.”

  “Sure, I’ll come down in a few. Just let me throw some clothes on.”

  He pointed. “They are in the top drawer, a few things that you brought with you at the beginning.”

  After Robert left, Abby walked back to the bed and sat down with the envelope in her hand. What could it possibly say? She assumed the day could not get any stranger, so she decided to stop procrastinating and opened it. As she took out the letter, a photo slid out and fell down to the floor, face down.

  Bending to pick it up, she flipped it over and saw the face of a very handsome man. He was a lit
tle older, maybe in his late forties or early fifties. His face did not look familiar, but she recognized the blond hair instantly. She had been seeing it in her dreams for weeks. Her adrenaline started pumping. With her hand shaking, she put the photo down on the nightstand and opened the letter.

  She did not have to read past the first word to know she was in trouble.

  RUN!

  26

  RUN! Abby, run. If you’re reading this, I know that you’re a different person now. You’re a survivor and a winner. You’re strong. You must run. Do not have your memory restored. I can’t stress how important it is that you do not have your memory restored. You probably feel like you’re missing ten years. But trust me, it’s a blessing. I don’t want to say too much, but you fell in with the wrong people. There are things that you know that you cannot know. Lives depend on your ignorance, Abby. Do not return to California either. It’s actually best if you do not return to the States at all.

  Escape to the most remote place you can, and keep a low profile. Your winnings will be transferred to a secure account. Robert is aware of this; he helped set it up. He also knows you won’t be having your memory restored. He is very rich, and very easy to find for those who will be trying to find you. You can trust him, but do not tell him the details of where you are going. No one can know. In your suitcase, tear open the back panel (it’s being held on by Velcro) and remove the ID’s and cash to get you to wherever you decide to go. I had some ideas on where you should go, but I didn’t dare write them down. I’m sure whatever you… we… I? decide will be fine. It will have to be.

  Last, and most important, always be ready. You have probably learned that I became very skilled with that knife when I was training for the show. If you’re reading this, I’m guessing it has probably saved our life once or twice. Always keep it with you. There is a photo of a man enclosed. You do not know who he is, but trust me when I tell you that that is for the best. I will not tell you his name, I don’t want you getting cocky and trying to find him.