Ian Ordway

          Elisabetta was sure she’d hit her head during the crash. She felt stiff and absolutely exhausted. She had always grown up wanting to go travelling and her field of study was going to allow for that. This was practically the first real plane trip she’d ever been on. And she had only gone to see Meg. Part of her was freaking out because she hadn’t told anyone that she was going on this trip. School was over for the summer and all her research had been independent. Her parents didn’t own phones, so she didn’t have a way to contact them unless she visited them, but she hadn’t had the time. Elisabetta was completely alone. Meg didn’t even know she was planning on visiting.  

               She sat on the sand, head in between her legs, tears flowing down her face. “Dios, me mantiene a salvo. Por favor, encuéntranos rápidamente.” Her quiet prayer was the only thing keeping her from having a breakdown.

“Tener fe. Seremos salvos,” Ian assured as he sat beside her, catching her prayer. She looked like she needed someone right now. Of course, everyone did, but she had caught his eye. He could make his rounds to help others after. “Me llamo Ian. E tu?”

“HEY—”  she could spot it from a mile away. the too familiar camouflage patches were quick to warrant the females attention; even if she had been stood several feet from the other, observing an unclaimed bag of its contents. as quick as her legs would carry her, teegan is quick to eagerly snatch up the combat jacket from the others feet. bright green hues examine the material for a name patch that upon finding, the bold letters reflect back at her spelling out ASHWOOD. tossing it up onto her shoulders, her slender frame practically drowned in the oversized item.

Ian raised his eyebrows and he almost backed away, wondering why this girl was running at him. She snatched up the jacket and he frowned a little. Right, well, better than being attacked. “I wasn't going to take it,” he said, shaking his head. Why would she even want a jacket on this island? It was hot as Hades. He eyed the oversized fit. “Is it yours?”

with pale green eyes wide and the southern belle’s face in a pallid shade of shock, mylori sat in the sand, covered in soot and blood that wasn’t hers. as the head ER nurse on her floor, the georgian had never lost a patient. now she was staring at what was a dead body…there was no saving the person, and mylori knew it, but she had to try. the blonde remained only clad in mutilated shorts and a black lacy bralette. she had used everything else to bandaid the wounds of others. as another approached, the girl turned, hot tears running down her cheeks. “—there was nothing more i could do…i-i..” her voice fell husky and her thick southern drawl even thicker than normal.

Ian watched as the blonde tried to save someone laying in the sand. He was still a little shocked from the crash, but he was trying hard to keep his head on straight. He was usually dependable and the one his friends always came to when they needed support or problem-solving. This was certainly a situation where people would need that. “It’s okay,” he said, quickly when he saw her tears. “You tried.”  He looked over at the body then back at her. He needed to distract her before she became hysterical. “What’s your name?”