How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony

The date when I first saw the vision was June 2, 1600.

The date I saw in the vision was July 23, 1600.

Even with the simplest calculation, the result showed that a hurricane would hit this land in 53 days.

And the Lenape tribe is a people spread across a vast territory from 21st century Delaware to New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and New York.

This meant we had only 52 days left to evacuate them.

53 days.

It might be an absurdly insufficient time to evacuate people scattered across a land larger than Shikoku.

"But it's barely possible."

"..."

"..."

"Most of them live gathered around the lower Hudson River and near the Delaware River, so if we move along the relatively flat land beside the rivers and the paths people have cleared... it should work."

By that reasoning, we just need to travel a few hundred kilometers.

Moreover, if we consider that surrounding tribes will inform other tribes of the crisis and evacuate them, the number we can save will increase further.

That's how the journey began.

"Your Great Chief has come! Open the door!"

"Great... Chief?"

"Mr. Nemo! Hurry!"

First, three or four of us, including myself, rush ahead in the Porter. In any case, since we had already visited each place once, finding the way wasn't difficult.

Next, I use my "eyes that avoid death" to look around and find safe zones where my head clears.

Meanwhile, the others and those who arrive later by cart gather the villagers and inform them of what I'm doing and the impending disaster.

Then we move on to the next village.

The time spent repeating this work has already been...

"22 days have passed, Mr. Nemo."

This means about 40 percent of our remaining time has passed.

Looking at the date on my phone, which read June 24, a sigh escaped.

"...Manteo, how many villages have proceeded with evacuation?"

"That... not even half yet."

"Exactly, tell me the proportion."

"...Only about a quarter."

A quarter.

At this rate, it means we'll need to spend two more months.

Time is woefully insufficient.

"Moreover, considering that more tribes are scattered across a wider area in the future..."

"Manteo, and everyone. I'm changing the plan."

"Pardon?"

"Manteo, stay here. And during the remaining time, urge the surrounding tribes to evacuate to the safe zone."

"B-but then Mr. Nemo will..."

"I'll be fine. Please complete all the tasks here. Please just don't get swept away by the storm."

After finishing our meal, I gave Manteo a few cautions and then walked straight to the Porter. That's how short of time we were.

Every moment, every second was precious. Our meals became increasingly simple and meager, and the interactions between us also kept only what was essential and concise.

"Mr. Nemo, before reaching the swamp ahead, you need to turn right to reach the next village."

"Thank you, Raleigh."

"..."

"..."

"..."

And gradually, we came to move in silence.

I increased the Porter's speed up to 60 kilometers per hour. On primitive roads with various obstacles and where wild animals and rocks could appear at any moment, it was quite a dangerous act.

"Mr. Harriot? I'm sorry, but I'd like you to stay here as well. I'm thinking of assigning you the same task as Manteo."

"B-but that would greatly increase the burden on you, Mr. Nemo! That won't do!"

"I also object. It might be understandable if one person were to leave, but from the second person onward..."

"I should be the one working hard. Isn't that why I took on the role of the Great Chief of Virginia?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Mr. Harriot, please."

"...Leave it to me."

And when the Porter's maximum speed was raised to 80 kilometers per hour, the empty seats increased one by one.

"Vicente? How is the situation now?"

"It's still clear near this safe zone! There are rumors that it will rain soon, but whether that's true..."

"What date is it today?"

"...June 30th."

"That's the date you agreed to disperse."

"..."

"Vicente, stay alive."

"Of course."

Then Vicente as well.

Thus, all the back seats of the double cab Porter became empty.

VROOOOM!

Maintaining the Porter's speed at over 100 kilometers per hour day and night became the norm now.

"Please listen! A storm is coming soon! This is neither a metaphor nor a scare tactic! Soon a storm will rage and might destroy this village!"

"We've already had our fill of storms. They've weakened recently, so what's there to worry about?"

"You should be concerned, Chief. Our Great Chief wishes it."

"...Why?"

"That's... a good question.

'He' wishes to save you all."

Raleigh dedicated himself to spreading the news to surrounding villages, and I ran around like a mad beast everywhere, chasing visions.

Finding places where my head wasn't dizzy or painful, where horrible visions weren't visible.

Finding safe zones and informing the tribe members.

And...

"Walter."

"..."

"I ask this of you. And please stay alive."

"Haha... I know it's silly for me to worry about you, Mr. Nemo... but still, take care."

Raleigh also got off the Porter.

I examined the map, the clock, and the date.

I was entering the lower Delaware River, it was night, and the date was July 14.

I turned on the Porter's headlights and drove. Under the unusually clear night sky, a yellow cone of light raced forward.

Rattle, rattle.

Not long after I started driving, I heard a sound from somewhere. At first, I thought it was coming from the car.

Rattle, rattle.

Again, a vibrating sound was heard. It was the kind of sound that unnecessarily made me tense.

Rattle, rattle.

"Please...!"

I briefly hit the brakes, trying to check where this unpleasant sound was coming from in the car.

I let go of the steering wheel.

At that moment, the sound stopped.

"..."

Looking down at my hands, they were trembling.

July 19.

The date seen on 'that day' was July 23.

Estimated hurricane landfall on the 22nd.

...3 days until the hurricane's landfall.

I spread out a 21st century map.

Then I look at a tangled web of major mountain ranges, rivers, and roads that couldn't possibly exist yet.

Cities that haven't been built yet are growing like blisters here and there, and roads and bridges that couldn't possibly exist now are stretched out like scars.

But the scale and description of the topography were detailed and accurate. Of course, by 21st century standards.

Flip.

And then I unfold another map.

It was another map drawn by me and my colleagues.

Though it had a much less accurate scale and topographical description, at least it showed what exists now.

It showed the villages that exist now, the sporadically broken roads that exist now, and the rivers, mountains, and all sorts of obstacles that exist now.

Comparing the two, measuring with a ruler, and overlapping them, I estimated the approximate distance to the destination.

It was the result using the two most accurate maps of the eastern North American region on Earth.

The result was...

150 kilometers in a straight line.

'I can make it.'

It was a distance I could cover in a day.

I can arrive well before dawn. The sooner I hurry, the better. With that thought, I stepped on the accelerator, and soon the instrument panel read 150 kilometers per hour.

Though I hadn't slept for a week already, my body was still alive and wriggling.

Even without looking in the mirror, I could tell. My eyes, completely bloodshot, repeatedly recovered and trembled.

A steel beast heavier than any beast in America raced down the road at a speed more overwhelming than any beast in America.

Wolves and various beasts wandering around trembled and fled at the sight of the fiercely drawn line of light. But I didn't stop.

There weren't many road-connected sections to the coastal village, the destination village where the Lenape Great Chief resided. If I didn't speed up here, there would be nowhere else to drive faster.

I step on the accelerator again to increase the speed. The car body trembles and screams, but I knew. After 12 o'clock, it would be fine again.

And.

With that thought, I overlooked one thing.

It was night now.

And I forgot that even though it was called a "road," it was a road made by merely packing soil with crude tools.

CRACK.

Until I heard that sound, I couldn't even guess for a moment what had happened.

One wheel lifted, the car flipped sideways, and a low protruding rock was revealed to my eyes.

"Oh."

That was all I could say.

CRASH!

Soon the steel crumpled, the wood tore away, and the world shook. I was shaken madly, flipped, and crushed like a lump of meat being ground in a blender.