"Just blindfold him already! We're in the drop zone!"

"Fuck off!" Deacon said through the muffle of his ball gag. He lurched forward, hitting his forehead against the head of a guard. The guard stumbled back. Deacon stumbled to his feet and looked out over the edge. The waters were calm and tranquil. An aquamarine colour so gentle one could see the tropical fish swimming above the sandy seabed. He didn't know what there was on the island. Absolom. But it had to be a hell of a lot better than prison. But being blindfolded... that would make things difficult. 

"Holy shit, give me the blindfold!" A guard with a thick cockney accent muttered.
 
"Sit down lowlife," another guard said, grabbing Deacon's shoulder roughly, throwing him back down. The helicopter suddenly grew silent as it descended down to the islands shores. It was so weird. The thundering sounds of the propellers suddenly ceased to exist. Deacon struggled as the guard forced the blindfold over him but he was powerless. He didn't like being powerless. 

"Here should be good. Throw the trouble maker first," one guard said. He felt the barrel of a gun poke into his back as the guards forced him up, and threw him out the window. 

His heart began to race as he expected a large drop, but he hit the ground with a thud after a mere second. He wasn't too high up. His shoulder and ribs hurt, but he had to work fast. This island seemed like paradise, but he was on an island full of hardened criminals. He bent his legs up and kicked them beneath his zip tied wrists. Now he was at least a little mobile. He pressed his face against the sand and moved it down, angling the blindfold up so he could see. He spit the bits of sand that got in his forced open mouth and he reached up to take the gag off. He was still unable to walk, but he had his senses. That was a start. 

He paused a moment to observe his surroundings. The choppers were still dropping prisoners around the coasts. The water was flat. A leveled sea of turquoise as far as the eye could see. There was no escape. He turned to either side. He was in a small area dotted by huge boulders. His vision was limited. Inland he saw a large field of tall foliage. Perhaps sugarcane? The small field gave way to the thick rainforest on all sides. With that, Deacon looked back to the sands in search of a sharpened rock. There had to be at least one around here. It'd take a while, but he could cut his binds off.