[b]Day 1 -- late afternoon:[/b]

Paula Kennedy got in a three-hour nap, waking as refreshed as she thought she could be considering their situation. She couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever feel entirely refreshed and renewed again. The [i]primitive[/i] life they were potentially facing could leave them working harder, longer hours than most of them had ever faced. That was saying a lot, considering that Humanitarian Mission work itself required long hours of hard work.

She tracked down Carol, telling her, [color=orange]"I'm heading out again. The other end of the island might have been a bust, but I'm feeling good about this end."[/color]

The Mission Coordinator agreed while also reminding Paula that sunset was only a handful of hours away. Carol warned, [color=orange]"Don't get caught out there in the dark."[/color]

Paula gathered her team for the second trek. Surprisingly, she had more fresh volunteers than she needed. In the end, she went with a larger team, choosing 5 people to accompany her. They headed into the jungle almost directly north of the camp as opposed to venturing down the beach a bit first. 

With the cliff and the hill behind it immediately to their east, Paula expected the terrain here to be steeper and harder to transit, and she wasn't wrong. She had no interest in climbing a mountain, though, so she aimed the team off to the left, heading northwest through the brush. Again, they took turns hacking and whacking at the foliage, blazing a trail. 

The heat and humidity this last in the day was even worse than it had been during the first trek before noon. They took breaks more often, about every 20 minutes. They gained some altitude as they went, enough so that when there was a break in the forest canopy, they could see the never ending ocean off to the south.

After almost two hours, Paula was out in front again when suddenly the jungle opened up before her. She found herself looking out over mostly open ground; a knee-high grassy field was broken up by scattered trees and large but young shrubs. The [i]meadow[/i] seemed to be rectangular in shape, reaching to the northwest well over half a mile and almost a hundred yards across.

[color=orange]"It's an airstrip,"[/color] Carol said as the others emerged from the forest and saw what she was seeing. Looking at the plant life that would obviously prevent an aircraft from landing here at the moment, she corrected, [color=orange]"I mean, it [i]was[/i] one ... once upon a time. Couple of years ago maybe."[/color]

[color=orange]"Kinda small, isn't it?"[/color] one of the other trekkers asked. 

[color=orange]"Smugglers,"[/color] another one of them offered. [color=orange]"I have my pilot's license. Single engines."[/color] He gestured a hand toward the scattered trees, saying, [color=orange]"If the trees were cleared out, I could easily land a single engine Piper Cub or even a Cessna Twin Turboprop here. They could have been transporting drugs ... or even drug lords. Who knows?"[/color]  

The conversation about the clearing's purpose and reason for abandonment continued for several minutes as Paula led the trekkers forward. Ultimately, she interrupted that topic with, [color=orange]"Whatever it was used for, it's our new home now. I mean, until we get rescued anyway, which hopefully will be in the next day or two."[/color]

They discussed how they they could erect the tents over the tall grass, which would give them a soft underlayer. [color=orange]"We'll stay close to the forest for protection from the winds. Dig outhouses, string up tarps between the trees to protect our things. It's perfect."[/color]

[color=orange]"No, it's not,"[/color] one of the others countered. When all eyes went to the contrarian, the clarification came: [color=orange]"Water. There's no fresh water source. We need to find a spring or a stream or a waterfall."[/color]

Paula nodded agreement. She split the group up into two teams of three, ordering each to walk the edge of the clearing in opposite directions, looking for a water source. [color=orange]"We need to be back at the beach before sundown, which is three hours away. So, back here, [i]right[/i] here, in 90 minutes. [i]Don't[/i] be late. If you hear or see signs of water in the jungle, go ahead and go inside. But stay together, and don't lose sight of where the clearing is. Understand?" [/color]

Just before the two teams went their separate way, Paula called over the person she assigned to be in charge. Digging into her backpack, she flashed the second of three Beretta 9mm semiautomatics that had been salvaged from the Security Team's firearms after the crash. 

Aside from these three pistols, the only firearm that had been found thus far was a 12-gauge shotgun. Per the UNHCR's guidelines for their level of necessary security, the only ammunition for the shotgun was non-lethal bean bag rounds. Both that long gun and its ammo was under the edge of Paula's bed back in her shared tent.

[color=orange]"You don't have to take this with you if you aren't comfortable with carrying one [i]and[/i] familiar with using it,"[/color] Paula said quietly. [color=orange]"But if you want..."[/color] 

Paula would never pressure someone who didn't like guns to carry one. It wasn't safe, for the gun toter or anyone around them. But she didn't know what kinds of dangers they might find out here, from dangerous animals to dangerous [i]people[/i]. For all they knew, this island might be home to ship-raiding pirates who the Mission survivors simply hadn't yet discovered.

Once the decision about the Beretta was made, the two teams headed off. Paula and her two trekkers headed northwest along the long side of the former landing strip. The other team headed northeast along the [i]end[/i] of the abandoned runway; after just a hundred yards, they would turn to their left and head northwest, parallel to Paula's team.