Page 103 of Lost Paradise

Eve turns back to make sure Byron and I follow her. Her eyes spark with a mixture of excitement and hope as she leads us through the dimly lit corridors of the abandoned facility. The air is thick with dust and the scent of mildew, but she moves with purpose, her footsteps echoing off the metal walls.

“I found something earlier,” Eve says, her voice a whisper of anticipation. “If it’s still functional, it could be our ticket offthis island.”

We arrive at a heavy, rusted door marked with red faded Russian letters. Eve pushes it open, revealing a room cluttered with forgotten equipment and crates. The air inside is stale, undisturbed for decades. She navigates through the maze of debris, leading us to the shelf where a large, weathered case sits.

“There,” she says, pointing to the case. It’s coated in a thick layer of dust, but the outline of a faded manufacturer’s label is still visible on the top. Eve brushes away the dust, revealing the words we don’t understand, which are stenciled on the side, but the printed picture is enough of an indication of what it is.

Byron and I exchange hopeful glances. “Is it…?” I begin.

“Unused,” Eve confirms. “It’s been sitting here for years, but it’s still sealed in its original case.”

The case itself is made of durable, heavy-duty plastic, showing no signs of cracks or significant damage. Eve kneels beside it and runs her fingers along the edges, finding the latches and flipping them open with a satisfying click. She hesitates for a moment, then lifts the lid.

Inside it, the life raft is neatly folded and wrapped in layers of protective material. The bright orange color of the raft is still vivid, a stark contrast to the dull, grey surroundings. Attached to the inside of the lid is an instruction manual, yellowed with age but intact. It’s in Russian, but there are photos beside the words.

“It looks like it’s in good condition,” Byron says, kneeling down to inspect it closer. He checks the seams and the material, nodding approvingly. “If it holds air and all the components are still functional, we might just have a chance.”

Eve stands up, a determined look on her face. “We’ll need to test it, see if it inflates properly and if the survival gear inside is still usable. But if it works, we can use it to get to a shipping lane or another island.”

I nod, my expression one of cautious optimism. “We’ll need to bring it back to camp and give it a try. We need to know if this thing is seaworthy before we pin all our hopes on it.”

“Now the oil,” Eve says, standing up, and I can’t resist anymore.

I slide my arm around her waist and drag her to me. “You are amazing.”

“I’ll be more amazing when I can use that soap I found in the kitchen and have a proper wash!” she says, giving me a peck on the lips before pulling away and going on a mission to find that pantry.

I rub my hand over my heavy stubble. If we could find a razor, I’m sure the guys would appreciate it too.

Byron closes the case, “I don’t think we’ll be able to take everything on one trip. It’s a long trek back to camp.”

“I still think we should move in here.”

“There is no fresh running water,” Byron points out. “They were collecting it in tanks, and those have rusted. We have the lagoon near us, and it runs constantly fresh, and this place is nowhere near the ocean, where our main source of food is.”

He’s right. It’s just here we have some semblance of civilization, and I can see how Eve is excited about finding home comforts even if they are decades old.

“I’ll go help Eve find the pantry. Even if we find oil, do you know how to convert it?”

“I believe so,” Byron says confidently. “It’s actually what they call bio-diesel. We need sodium hydroxide, but I saw some cleaning products. If there’s a drain cleaner, then we can use that. We also need an unopened bottle of methanol, among some other things I’m sure I will find. The tricky part will be the heating. You need to maintain seventy degrees, so hopefully, I can find a cooking thermometer.”

“How do you know all this stuff?” I ask, amazed at Byron’s skills.

He stares at me for a long, pregnant pause.

“Books,” he shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “When you’re alone in the world, they become your silent family.” He says this while dragging the case up and walking out of the room without further words.

I watch him leave, his words echoing in my mind. Byron’s knowledge and resourcefulness continually surprise me. It’s one thing to survive, but another entirely to be so well-prepared and informed. As I follow him out, I can't help but feel a mix of admiration and curiosity.

Byron's past remains a mystery, but his skills and quiet determination are becoming our lifeline.

My thoughts drift to the possibilities of what lies ahead. If Byron can really pull this off and create bio-diesel, we might have a fighting chance to power up the generator and convert it into a boat motor and get usoff this island.

We’ve each packed several bags we found around the area. Byron also filled a bag with the documents we discovered in the office, including the maps and some writing supplies. Now it’s about getting everything back to camp, which took us hours just getting here.

We also grabbed a bunch of blankets, towels, plates, cutlery, cups, blocks of soap, and unused disposable razors we were lucky to find. I also picked up a bunch of tools and knives. Considering we’ve only had one since we’ve been here, we now have half a dozen of them.

“I wonder if Astro can speak and read Greek. If he does, then maybe he can translate some of that Russian,” Eve suggests.

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