A Gainer's Journey

Chapter 1

He woke up coughing, tasting the ocean's salt as water came up from his mouth. He lifted his head off the cushioned beach and brushed the satiny sand off his face, trying to gather his thoughts. The last few days had been spent alone, weathering bad storms on a compact rescue raft in the Mediterranean Sea. A fire had broken out on his ship, and he remembered evacuating with ten other men. Otto was the captain of an offshore supply vessel responsible for delivering supplies and crew to an offshore oil rig. His ship was making its way home after another successful trip when an oil leak caused a small explosion in the engine room. The noise woke him up, and he checked his watch to see it was one in the morning. Alarms were blaring, and he could hear shouting coming from up top. He groggily flipped on his light switch, only to face darkness. He opened his door and saw a bright light bouncing down the ladder in pitch-black darkness; it was Andre, the chief engineer. Andre smelled of smoke and oil. He told Otto that three of the men in the engine room had been injured in an explosion. They were trying to put out the fire, but a large hole in the ship was taking on water rapidly, and the pump system wasn't working. There was an automatic distress call that had been sent out, and Chief Officer Lunge was on the radio with the Coast Guard as well as another nearby vessel that would be there in the next hour. The next twenty minutes were spent gathering crew and evacuating the sinking ship. The twenty men were floating in the middle of the sea waiting for the rescue, and he couldn't remember what happened next.
Where was he? The shore looked unrecognizable to anything he had seen in his fourteen years of traveling along his familiar routes of the coasts. The beach's sand was bleached and sparkling; about 200 meters away, he saw a dense forest of tropical trees and a kaleidoscopic array of vegetation. The island looked uninhabited, and Otto would have assumed it was if not for the faint whiff of meat smoking.
Thank God, there are people here. At least I hope they're friendly and helpful. If they have a radio, I can get picked up and taken home. Just then, he saw a man standing on the edge of the forest. The man remained silent as he walked towards Otto. Otto gave him a weak one-armed wave. As the man approached, Otto noticed he was stocky but short, maybe a little taller than 160 cm. He reminded him of his partner back home, Jonathan. Otto, on the other hand, was 185 cm and a strong, lean 90 kg. He managed calisthenics at sea and lifted weights at home. Otto moved closer to the man and thought more about home and how he missed it. His large condo and king-size bed were much more comfortable than the twin-size bed he spent three-quarters of the year sleeping on the ship. The delicious meals Jonathan cooked for him every night were way more delectable than the artificial-flavor-and-sodium-ridden food he ate while aboard. But he always went back out for another job, even though Jonathan was complaining more about Otto being away all the time. Otto loved being a captain, having a crew that followed his orders, commanding ships around the Mediterranean and Arabian Peninsula. But what had happened aboard the MT Thallass- yes, the fire and explosion, but what had caused it? Otto had never gotten a clear answer.
The stout man was now only a few yards away.
"Hello," Otto said, and realized he was parched. "My ship has sunk; I need help finding my crew, and can you help me call for help?" The stout man stared at him for a minute, and held out his hand.
"I'm sorry," Otto said, and stuck out his hand to shake the man's. "I'm Otto." The man grabbed Otto's hand and turned around, pulling Otto with him. Otto stumbled a few feet before walking along with the man. Despite the man's small stature, his grip was impossible to break out of, and he pulled on Otto's arm with indomitable force.
"Hey, what the fuck, let go of me," Otto exclaimed, trying to tug away as they moved closer to the forest.
"My name is Clayton," The stout man said, not looking back. "I have a radio back at my place; you can call for help there. I should warn you that the signal isn't very good, and you might be stuck here for a while." His voice was a resonant bass that reminded Otto of a cowboy rather than a small-island man.
"Okay, but will you let go of me?"
"The forest is thick; you'll get lost or hurt yourself. Just follow my steps." Clayton commanded. Otto rolled his eyes; he could handle a short hike to this guy's shack, but he couldn't break free of his grip, so he didn't have much of a choice. The two of them briskly walked along a seven-meter-wide dirt path that looked like it was once a road. After ten minutes on the abandoned road, they stepped off to the left and walked straight into the brush.
"What's down the road?" Otto asked as they maneuvered through the forest.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Calyton answered.
"Are there other people here on the island?"
"People, no. No one else lives here."
"So you're just a random man, living out here for fun?" Otto asked. He felt suspicious of Clayton, yet something else compelled him to trust him.
"You know my name, so I'm not a random man anymore. And this island has been my home for a long time. I don't have any desire to leave." They stopped in front of a small stone house. "And you never know, you might not want to leave either," Clayton said and opened the door to the home.