Inside the first crate, he found a stash of supplies that immediately caught his attention
Water bottles stacked neatly, the cool plastic glinting under the dim light, a welcome sight in this dry, claustrophobic place.
He picked up one of the bottles and traced it along the side of the crate, using it as a measuring tool.
With a quick glance, he estimated the length of the crate and began mentally calculating how many were inside.
Each crate held about two hundred bottles.
'There's 13 of us now, including me. So, assuming each one drinks one bottle a day, this crate would only last 15 days,'
'I need to check if there's another water supply or some kind of alternative,'
He moved on to the next crate, repeating the process. This time, it was canned tuna. Since the cans were smaller, there were about 400 of them in total.
The next crate contained canned beans, and there were 400 of them too.
That was a good sign; it meant they had a reliable food source for a while.
The fourth crate, smaller than the rest, was different. It was filled with alcohol disinfectant, some medicines, and other first aid supplies.
He continued his search, making a tally as he went. Luckily, he found another crate filled with bottled water, which was the most important thing for their survival at the moment.
With a sigh of relief, he moved to the next crate, his eyes scanning for anything useful.
Spotting a supply of pens and paper, he quickly made a list of the items, knowing that staying organized could mean the difference between life and death.
As he wrote, he couldn't help but assumed that whoever had arranged this supply wanted them to survive and reach the island alive.
But it wasn't all good news. The large number of foods suggested they will be trapped here for a long time—perhaps even more than a month.
And during that time, they should also be cautious about their mental health. The dim, artificial light from the bulbs wasn't exactly ideal and could start messing with their heads if they weren't careful.
After finishing, he went over his list again, carefully reviewing each item to make sure nothing was overlooked.
-Food and Beverage-
Bottled Water: 400 bottles, 500 ml each.
Canned Tuna: 400 cans, 170grams each
Canned Beans: 400 cans, 185 grams each
-Medicines and Disinfectant-
Alcohol: 10 liters
Pain Killers: 300 tablets
Antibiotics: 300 tablets
Cough Lozenges: 300 tablets
First-Aid Manual: 1
Thermometers: 5
Gauze pads: 15 rolls.
-Other Supplies-
Battery AA - 100 pieces
Garbage Bags: 50 pieces Large
Tampons: 150 pieces
Toothbrush: 20 pieces
Toothpaste: 10 large ones
Blanket: 20 pieces
Lightbulbs: 10 pieces
Soap: 50 pieces
Shampoo: 10 bottles,1 liter each
Ballpens: 20
Papers: 500 sheets
After finishing the inventory, he looked at the women, noticing their hunger. All of them were eyeing the canned goods.
He handed each of them a bottle of water, a can of beans, a blanket, and a toothbrush.
"Make sure one bottle lasts you a day," he instructed. "We don't know how long we'll be here, so we need to ration everything carefully."
He watched them for a moment, ensuring they understood the importance of his warning, but it didn't take long before they started eating.
They quickly filled their stomachs, oblivious to his words.
'Damn, this will be a long trip,' he sighed, massaging the bridged of his nose.
He let them finish eating, taking just one can for himself to lead by example.
When everyone was done, their moods lifted slightly, and they seemed more willing to talk.
'I need to unite everyone,' he thought, tapping the pen against the paper.
Their survival depended not just on supplies, but on how well they could work together.
He clapped his hands, drawing their attention.
"Now that our stomachs are full, let's talk about something important. "
All eyes were on him now. The way he handled things with efficiency made them see him in a different light.
"I want each of you to introduce yourselves and share what you did before ending up here. It's important since we're all stuck in this mess together."
His tone made it sound like a sound reason. But in reality, he just wanted to tag them, to figure out who might pose the most trouble in the long run.
He needed to know who he could trust, and who would be a liability.
"I'll start first," He stood up.
"My name is Zayn. I am a psychology major at Columbia University."
The mention of an Ivy League school caught them off guard. It was hard to believe that someone from such a prestigious background could be so violent.
"Wait! " A woman in her 30s stood up, unable to hide her surprised.
"No wonder you look familiar, you play for the Columbia Lions, right? You're that famous quarterback... Zayn Zoomer"
He almost facepalmed himself when he heard the obnoxious nickname.
It was one given to him by his fans, because of how fast he was when running in a straight line.
There were even fans chanting in the stands, "ZOOOOOOOOOM!" whenever he ran, moving with such speed and momentum that it seemed like he could outrun anything in his path.
When the others overheard it, their ears perked up. Some of them were familiar with him from social media, though they only knew his nickname and not his face.
They exchanged looks, surprised to realize they were in the presence of someone with such a high profile.
"That's not important," he cleared his throat, steering the conversation away from himself. "Let's stay on track here."