I was on a desert tropical island with a bunch of others, mostly kids of varying ages. There was also large hangar with airplanes, strangely. Something had divided our group, and we were preparing for a major fight, "tribal war". I don't even know what it was about, but it was serious. We had everything ranging from improvises clubs to slashing weapons. Even the smallest kids, aged 6 maybe, wanted to take part. I used a pen I found as improvised weapon, but said to the guy next to me that I wished I had my gun. This was in the tense moments before the "battle" in front of the hangar, were both groups (maybe 20 kids each) were lined up in front of each other. I suddenly decided I wanted no part in it. I wanted off the island, and this fight seemed to me a barbaric way of wasting time. In the next scene, we'd sent out two of the aircraft to scout the environment around the island. I "knew" we were near Tenerife. I saw the world from the perspective of the nose of the plane, and noticed the pilot was flying way too low. I could see the bottom of the ocean through the crystal clear water. I think he was looking for more islands instead of civilization. I just wanted him to go higher so I could spot any inhabited islands.
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