You would have thought I was pumped up with coffee by the way I got up, ready to set flight. Coffee… boy do I miss that. I haven't found an equivalent on the island yet. None of this would be easy.. I’m sure riding a bird isn’t like riding a bike. I can’t kid myself here. Over the weeks I’ve realized that I can use this implant in my arm to send out broadcasts to the local survivors out in the world. I spend the morning reaching out, skeptically, for someone to help me out. Why would someone want to help me out I thought as a distant communication came in. He said his name was Jim and if I brought him the materials, he could craft it for me. Could this be true? I had to put my inhibitions aside and take a leap. He informed me that he lived on the south coast and gave me a general vicinity to locate him in.
I pack up my things and set flight. This can’t go good. Can people really be this nice in the world? Needless to say I got lost. People who know me in my other life wouldn’t be surprised by this. For the first time I felt scared. Terry was getting tired and my visibility was close to nothing. My heart is literally beating out of my chest while gliding through the air, freezing… Nothing I was doing was safe but I couldn’t see myself rot away in the home I built without ever exploring. I’m getting to live twice in one lifetime so in this one, I’m taking risks. A day later I arrive at what appears to be a compound. There are ominous signs around reading “Cannibal Territory” that gives me an overall creepy feeling. It’s one of the tribes I’ve heard on the broadcast.
Jim comes running up and I don’t know what to think. This is really happening. In my other life I wouldn’t ever do something this daring. I stood silent not wanting to set off the horde of dinosaurs that sat protecting the base. Jim says “Don’t worry, they aren’t aggressive”. Is this a trick? He invites me in and I get into his workshop and start unloading my pack. “Oh shit”. I forgot the metal. A very valuable resource on the island and I show up without it? This guy is going to eat me. I know it. My first and last flight.
“Don't worry about it dude”, he says as he begins banging on a makeshift workbench. Either I’ve got good luck or Ashton Kutcher is going to ride up on a T-Rex with sunglasses. I owe this guy. Hopefully I don’t pay with my life. I back out of his compound waiting for him to make me into his supper. It didn’t happen. I flew off on a lengthy journey home realizing that this was really the beginning. I must make use of myself and document every single thing I can. I’ve started to organize these notes into chapters and plan to get interviews with all the major tribes on the island. I realize this may put me in a vulnerable spot, but I feel like it’s my path.
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