An old, rotted out tree was blown down several feet ahead of her. She saw an opening in the forest left by the tree. Sandrah saw dark grey cloud above soaring by, lightning traveling through them. Climbing over the large tree trunk she pressed on.
She had to rest again. The wind and rain was too much. Another half hour passed and Sandrah was leaning against another huge tree, when a bright flash, a white hot explosion occurred near her on a cluster of boulders.
She fought the urge to roar in pain, curiosity about the burning pain in her arm taking over. “Lightning. Was I struck?” she thought, looking around. “No, couldn’t have been,” Sandrah saw a large rocky shard, jutting out of the tree branch next to her. It was still smoking from the lightning strike which caused the boulder to explode, sending shrapnel-like pieces of itself everywhere. One of those pieces flew at Sandrah, sliced the side of her arm and landed in the tree trunk. If she was positioned several inches to her right, the rock shard would no doubt be impaling her chest.
She was bleeding fairly badly. Part of the wound was burnt from the hot rock shard, but the cut was somewhat deep. She’d need stitches. Sandrah tore off her tank top and quickly tied it around her arm, using it like a tourniquet. She pushed herself once again, hoping to get out of the storm, hoping things wouldn’t get worse.
After another 45 minutes of slogging through the jungle she caught up to Bea. Anger took over and Sandrah rushed to Bea, tackling the poor woman, climbing on top of her, raising her fist to punch her repeatedly. Sandrah stopped herself, upon seeing Bea’s already scratched and banged face mixed with a look of total fear. Sandrah came to her senses, climbed off Bea and helped her up.
“Sorry,” Sandrah said, too ashamed to look at Bea in the eye.
“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I had no idea the storm would get this bad,” Bea admitted, patting Sandrah’s back.
“We need to get out of it.”
“Your arm,” Bea nodded to it.
“Yeah, lightning struck near me. A piece of rock flew by. I was lucky.”
“I was looking over there. There’s a beach, we can probably find more rocks or caverns to hide in,” Bea said.
“Good idea. Let’s get out of this mess.”
They headed down a small hill, using trees to assist their decent, toward a beach. “How’d you get so far away so fast?” Sandrah asked.
“I ran up the hill, I found a path and followed it. I veered off, hoping to find a beach. I avoided all the jungle mess,” Bea explained.
Sandrah sighed, cursing herself again, as the two women made their way to the beach, jogging toward another rocky cliff area.
They searched, finally finding a rocky overhang, with a well-protected cavern area. It was dry, so far, and had driftwood strewn about. Sandrah hoped the water wouldn’t get too high and possibly get in the safe spot they found. Sitting in it, out of the rain, they had a perfect view of the beach to their right and the ocean to the left. The choppy waves were crashing about in the distance and made them feel nervous, some of those wave getting too close for comfort to their hiding spot.
They sat in silence; the wind, rain, and thunder was all they heard. A few minutes later a new sound was heard. It was a low, chopping sound.
“Is that – ” Sandrah stood looking to the sky.
A helicopter came into view from behind them. It was spinning in circles, erratic, struggling to land, trying to get back to the resort after finally being told to return by the production crew. “Get back!” Sandrah said, in case it crashed, with debris heading toward them.
Something much more unfortunate happened. Lightning struck it, hitting a fuel tank. The helicopter exploded. Sandrah and Bea crouched down, holding onto one another. A minute passed, they looked at the burning wreckage a couple hundred feet away, knowing the pilot couldn’t have survived it. Sandrah slowly stood. She had an idea.
She pulled a burning piece of the fuel tank toward their small cavern. Sandrah’s arm was in pain, but she didn’t care, she wanted to drag it near the entrance and use it to keep them warm. She would pile on driftwood and the burning oil.
“Thank you,” Bea was somber, knowing where the fiery debris came from. “Maybe our clothes can dry a bit.”
Sandrah nodded, not paying attention to Bea stripping naked, until after she had done so as well. Bea found a piece of wood and laid her bikini on it to dry. Sandrah tried her best not to glance at the woman and did the same, keeping her tank-top tourniquet on her arm. She felt awkward and silly, but the fire was getting large now, thanks to the driftwood, plus she was tired of being wet. They took off their shoes and socks too.
Sitting in silence, they huddled close and waited.
It was over for Sandrah. She or no one was winning this game now. The episode would either be re-shot or cancelled. There was no way they would ask her to re-film after what her and Bea went through. Sandrah admitted to herself, she would film again at a chance to win or at least find something or someone new, exciting, and special.
They waited out the storm, the sky getting darker and darker as the sun got lower behind the cloud cover. The rain didn’t let up, the wind kept howling outside their rocky shelter. Sandrah watched the waves crashing, hoping it was low tide and that high tide was far off. Bea rested her head on Sandrah’s shoulder. She found herself resting her head on top of Bea’s, scared, but warmed by the fire.
In the early evening, before the sun set, the two contestants saw something truly horrifying.
-6-
“What, what is that?” Bea asked trembling with fear, holding on tightly to Sandrah. They peered beyond the choppy waves, out into the ocean toward the horizon, seeing something descend from the clouds. It was tall, thin and funnel-like. Another one descended from the clouds right near it, a quarter mile away.
“Tornadoes?” Bea asked, gripping Sandrah’s good arm.
“Waterspouts,” Sandrah answered. Both women jumped, scared, when another one, much closer, came into view from their left. It was a few hundred feet away and appeared to be moving closer, sea spray from it increasing as it circled.
They closed their eyes, holding each other tightly, the air in their small cavern filling with rain and spray from the waterspout. The fire was nearly extinguished. The wind caught a corner flap of Sandrah’s cargo shorts, blowing them into the burning oil. A few pieces of driftwood blew over, rolling out of the cavern.
“Please don’t let us die,” Sandrah heard Bea cry, the waterspout getting closer.
Sandrah opened her eyes seeing a column of spinning water 60 feet away. She trembled watching it slowly glide by out of view, several waterspouts forming and dissipating in the distance.
Tense, out-of-breath, heart racing, they sat in a slowly darkening cavern. They sky became dark each minute, occasionally illuminated by lightning. A couple hours later, Sandrah thought she saw more waterspouts nearby when lightning struck. It was split-second views of walls of water, spinning nearby. They stayed awake, always looking out to the horizon.