by Ronan Cray
The rain released the built up pressure Colin felt. It had begun. The storm electrified him, filled him with terrible energy and anticipation. Colin enjoyed a rare moment of triumph. He was leading. After all these years, he had a plan of his own. Even without a tongue, he could communicate it. Maybe, if they survived, he would even have a new friend.
He knew chances were more likely that this whole plan would go up in flames. Now is the time for action, not hope.
It took a moment for Colin’s eyes to adjust to the darkness in the Manor House. He stood there, dripping on the floorboards, unsure of how to proceed. Rain beat a loud tune on the plastic skylights above.
Tuk sat in the semi-darkness at his usual spot at the head of the table enjoying an early lunch. He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Colin. You have something to report?”
Colin held a waterproof box in one hand, identical to the one Ados used. He opened the box, pointed at various items in the room, and feigned closing the lid.
“Good idea, Colin. Why don’t you go ahead and start putting things away. I hope you don’t mind if I finish my lunch.” Tuk was the only person not preparing for the storm. He seemed completely in control, as if this were nothing but a drill he had orchestrated to keep a busy crew.
Colin leaned out the door and waved Mason in. Mason brought in two more boxes, scavenged from various places, and a cooler. He looked relieved to come out of the rain.
“Mason! All done with the salt on the wall? Good. Help Colin out.”
They worked in silence. Only the rain beating down and the sound of Tuk’s silverware broke the silence.
Tuk tried to speak through a mouthful of meat, changed his mind, wiped his mouth, swallowed a draught of water, and then began again. “Mason, I’ve been watching you closely over the past two weeks. You’ve been good for us. You work hard. You have an excellent attitude. You’re not a leader, but you take responsibility for your own tasks and the tasks of your team mates. I like that.
“I’d like you to stay with us, here, in the Manor House. We’re moving everyone out of Departure Camp for the duration of the storm, but afterward you can remain here. I assure you it is far more comfortable, and you’ll be better fed.” He held up another forkful of meat. “Did Ados give you our little demonstration?””
Mason stopped packing boxes. “Are you saying I won’t be rescued?”
“I think you’re bright enough to know there isn’t a rescue underway for any of us.”
Colin grew nervous. He didn’t see this coming. Would Mason’s allegiance turn? As a victim of Departure Camp, he had a clear incentive to destroy Tuk’s rule. But if Tuk brought him in, life would be infinitely better. Did Mason know that? Did he care? Worse, had Tuk seen through Colin’s little scheme, and this was his retaliation? Tuk asked Ados to show off their little pets. That meant he intended to ask Mason to come in all day. Once again, Tuk seemed two steps ahead of Colin.
Colin felt helpless. Without a tongue, he couldn’t sweet-talk Mason out of joining Tuk.
Mason spoke first. “You never did send a party out to look for Howie, did you?”
Tuk shrugged. “Tsk. That was too long ago to hold a grudge. Your man died on the beach the very first day. The Creepers got him. We found his clothes. Must have been quite a meal.
“They got Emily, too. She was too small to survive here for long. We honestly don’t know what happened to Lauren. She must have met the same fate.”
“And Carter?”
Tuk didn’t answer right away. He carefully cut a slice of meat on his plate, stabbed it with a fork, and lifted it to his mouth. Chewing, he smiled and said, “This island is a dangerous place.”
With relief Colin saw that Mason was angry, not grateful. Mason’s fists balled up, and he seemed barely able to control his temper as he said, “Departure Camp isn’t for survivors, it’s to see who survives.”
“Very good, Mason. I knew you were smart.”
“You never intended for anyone to be rescued.”
“We need workers, not tourists. This is an unforgiving place. A few more hands come in handy. C’mon Mason. We’ll dye your hair white, you’ll live here like us, like kings. I guarantee it’s better than whatever you can get back in the world.”
Mason backed down. He cast a look at Colin, almost a wink. “I’ll think about it.” Then he worked even faster to pack up the cooler.
“Don’t think too long. This is going to be one hell of a storm.” The way Tuk said it, it sounded like a threat, but when Colin and Mason looked up, he was eating as calmly as ever.
Colin worked quickly. He didn’t care what went in the chests, so long as he had a reason to fill them. At one point Tuk chided, “Do you really think the candlestick needs to stay dry?” Unable to argue, Colin put it back on the table and moved on.
“Here.” Tuk pulled from his waist pocket a tattered little notebook with slips of paper inside. “I wouldn’t want this to get wet.” He carefully placed it in the bottom of a full trunk.
They were nearly finished filling the boxes when Angel stalked in. His shoulders steamed. “What are they doing here?”
Tuk remained casual as he finished his meal. “If you have anything precious, now’s the time to put it away.”
Angel only grunted and cast a suspicious look toward Mason.
Colin loudly shut the final trunk.
“Where do you want these?” Mason asked Colin, the speech they had prepared.
Colin started toward the door of the cave.
Angel got there first. “I’ll take those in.”
“Don’t trouble yourself,” Tuk butted in. “Give me your report. Are we ready?”
Angel strutted back to the table as Colin opened the door.
They had only a few moments. Colin shut the door and turned on one of only three electric lights on the island. Other than this cave, Ados had one in his greenhouse study, and Tuk had one in his bedroom.
“Wow!” Mason hadn’t seen the others. “You guys are really something. I’ll have to ask Ados how you did that. And look at all these fish!”
The cave extended some way into the mountain. Two dozen large buckets of salted fish lined the passage near the door. Beyond that pieces of random flotsam lay in a pile. Behind that, at the far end of the cave, lay stacks of dynamite.
Mason whistled. “Where did you get all that?”
Colin didn’t have time to explain. He dumped the contents of the cooler and one box, stacking dynamite inside. He threaded a fuse out the drain hole in the bottom of the cooler. Then he placed a few of the larger items on top, navigation charts and Tuk’s notebook, to hide the dynamite. The rest of the items he hid underneath a fish bucket.
They picked up the boxes and returned to the door.
Angel and Tuk looked up at them in surprise. “Where are you going with…”
Mason jumped in. “Colin changed his mind. We’re putting them with Ados’ things. He thinks they’ll be safer away from the mountain.”
Tuk shrugged, but Angel challenged them. “Where?”
“With the boats.” Mason hesitated, clearly intimidated. “Just in case… we have to get away in a hurry.”
“At sea. In a hurricane.” Angel was doubtful.
Just then, a particularly large gust of wind struck the side of the building. The walls shook. A sconce crashed to the floor.
Tuk shrugged. “Good idea.” He waved them on.
Colin and Mason hurried out the front door.
Dynamite is heavier than it looks. Colin struggled to carry one box. The wind and rain slashed at them. Each slippery step took a lifetime. Steam rose from the hot, black rocks, enveloping the Flow in a fast moving mist. Paul and Eddie ran past them in the fog without looking at them. A black form billowed out in front of Colin and collided with him without warning. He almost dropped the cooler.
“Sorry Colin! Hi, Mason!” Amy stopped. “Mason, you should come with us.”
“I can’t! This is important!”
&nb
sp; “Mason, you should really come with us. Right now.”
Paul and Eddie didn’t hesitate, running on through the storm. Amy watched them go, clearly torn. “We’re going up the mountain! Come find me when you’re done!”
That was early, Colin thought. It was strange to see Paul on the Flow. It made sense that they brought him inside the Gate before the rain started, but usually no one went up the mountain unless and until things got very bad on the ground. In fact, Tuk had given specific directions for everyone to return to the Manor House when they completed their tasks. On only three occasions in the last six years had the crew sheltered on the mountain, in the bat caves. Each time it was because a few Creepers made it into the compound.
This was not good.
Mason stared after Amy as she disappeared. Colin kicked him to get him moving.
A few minutes later, to their relief, the Gate appeared in the mist.
“What have we here, Colin? Moving day?” Chuck and Cliff stood in a fighting stance with their spears thrust up against the Gate. Something bumped loudly on the other side.
“Moving to Departure Camp at last? I knew this day would come.”
Colin opened his mouth and hissed.
“Come on, Lizard Boy. We’re a little busy. What do you want?”
Colin entered the arch and dropped his heavy load against the Gate, bolstering the doors.
“That can’t have been your idea, Colin. Tuk sent you here?”
He nodded.
“Do you have more?”
He pointed at Mason, struggling against the wind with the cooler. Cliff hesitated, unsure which task was more important, then dropped his spear to help Mason.
Stepping into the rain, Cliff lifted the cooler out of Mason’s grip. He grinned an evil smile. “You want me to let you out again, so you can get back to camp?” Mason kept quiet. “No? Guess you’ll be spending the night.”
As Cliff turned, the fuse fell out and dangled from the bottom, dragging on the ground. Colin panicked. Cliff dropped the cooler against the Gate, on top of the fuse.
Mason must have seen it, too. He froze. Chuck laughed, “Hey, Colin, you’re friend here must be taking elocution lessons from you.” Cliff almost doubled over in laughter. “Oy! You’re doin’ a good job, Professor Higgins.” They laughed again.
While they were distracted, Colin pulled the fuse out from under the box. He bent down to light it. Just as he hoped, the narrow arch kept the rain off the crates. The fuse was dry. The length should give him at least fifteen seconds to reach a safe distance.
Mason was already walking away, his arm held up against the rain.
“What, no rejoinder from Colin’s pet? Walking away?”
Mason started to run, which only made them laugh more. They would have continued their taunting, but that would mean leaving the dry patch under the arch.
Colin lit the fuse and stood up. He walked briskly into a wall of rain.
A shout followed him, “Our company’s not good enough for you?”
He glanced back once to see them laughing. This was how he would picture them, laughing, in the rain, this side of oblivion, with a fuse burning short behind…
But the fuse wasn’t burning. He should have seen the smoke, but there wasn’t any. Colin stopped. The wind picked up enough that he couldn’t hear them anymore. Rain crashed against his head and chest, drowning his clothing. He waited fifteen seconds. Nothing. His feet slipped on the rocks as he ran back.
“You forget your dolly, Colin?” They backed away from his wet clothes. “Didn’t your mother tell you to close the door behind you?” Cliff howled in mirth.
He could smell the fuse over the ozone of the rain. He needed to distract them again. He was in a space only six feet wide by four feet deep with two other men and a pile of boxes. What could he possibly do without them noticing?
He gazed back out across the Flow. The Pools were already overflowing. The black stone gleamed like a plastic tarp. He pretended to look intently in the distance. Though they were occupied with their spears against the door, both men were watching him. He put his hand to his forehead to shield it against the non-existent sun. He leaned forward and opened his mouth in awe. He overacted in the extreme and felt foolish for it.
“What the hell are you looking at?” Those two simple minded bastards stared. Behind them, the wind beat against the gate and something else rustled, sinister, caressing the door in rasping slides.
Colin feigned fear, winced, and turned abruptly toward the Gate. That did it. They craned their necks to stare out into the grey. They were on edge already, and this spooked them.
He bent to the fuse. It snuffed out two thirds from the end. If he lit it now, he had five seconds to get clear. Not enough time. He wiped his mouth and thought.
C&C still stared into the rain. “What is it Colin? What do you see?”
He didn’t have time to think. He tried to light it again. His wet hands doused the braid. The match burned but the fuse didn’t catch. Despite the damp, the match burned his fingers. He placed his hand on the Gate but then drew it away instantly. He could feel vibrations through the door as the Creepers moved on the other side.
The rain lost its appeal. “What are you doing down there, Colin? It’s too late to pray.”
He lit a second match. This time the fuse caught. He turned and ran.
Cliff’s laughter followed him. “Hey, Colin, don’t be rude. Your friends are knocking! You want I should let them in?”
The explosion flattened Colin like a giant's hand. Pieces of trunk and Chuck pelted him. Salt and smoke burned his eyes. Dark red shapes writhed past. He watched them swarm around him, moving swiftly across the lava flow toward the Manor House. He expected them to take him any minute, but they didn't touch him. Why?
He was on fire. In the confusion, pressure, and pain he didn't even realize that a blaze blackened his back even now. He screamed and heaved up on his feet. Water! He needed water! He ran straight for the ocean.
Creepers splayed out across the Flow, their tentacles writhing wildly, their pods popping off and dashing ahead of him. They gave him a wide berth, tumbling over one another to get out of his way. All these years he'd lived in deathly fear of these lithe creatures, yet now they feared him, the human torch.
He ran, arms out, toward the embrace of the sea. Despite the chaos and horror around him, despite the Pain, Colin smiled. Every step through chaos brought him closer to the ocean. At last, he would leave the island.
He didn’t even pause at the edge of the cliff, the same spot he spent so many days dreaming of other variations of this same action. He launched himself into open air. An inhuman shriek erupted from his tongueless hole as his flaming body plummeted toward the sea like a meteorite. He plunged into a wave at the base of the cliff in a plume of foam, extinguishing the flames and smacking the air from his lungs. The next wave lifted him like a pallbearer, delivering him into the grip of the nearest barbed rock. His body dashed against the wall like so much chum. At last, the tide pulled his hollow hide out to drift on the open sea, facedown, arms spread wide, embracing his destiny.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Mason stumbled across the Flow as fast as he could. The rain blew in every direction. He put down his futile arm. It was impossible to stay dry.
He wondered where Amy went. Everything happened so fast he didn’t even stop to wonder if he put her in danger. Wherever she was going with Paul and Eddie, up the mountain, it had to be safer than here. Mason felt a brief stab of jealousy, seeing Amy run off behind Eddie, but then he discounted it.
When he arrived in the Manor House, Tuk cast a disdainful look at this wet intruder. “You’re dripping on my carpet.”
“Ados sent me for the other two boxes.”
Tuk waved him on.
Mason wasted no time. He only had seconds now before the Gate went.
When he entered the cave, the light was already on. Angel stood over the fish basket, inspecting the items Colin had spilled
. “What’s this?”
“We were in a hurry. They must have fallen out. I’ll put them in a crate now.”
Angel didn’t buy the story, but Mason was already picking up the items and tossing them into the nearest container. He stood watching from the doorway, arms crossed, blocking the exit.
The explosion rocked the house. The walls billowed and creaked. The ground shook. It felt as if the hurricane tossed an oil tanker on the Flow.
Angel and Tuk rushed out to see the source. Mason knew.
He backed further into the shadows of the cave. Gingerly placed beside the remaining dynamite, Colin had left him a fuse and a flare. He pulled the cap off the flare, blinked as the dazzling magnesium lit up the cave, and lit the fuse. He left the burning flare on the floor and ran out… directly into Angel’s broad chest.
Angel didn’t wait for Mason to recover. He lifted Mason by the arm and leg and catapulted him across the table. His eyes glowed red. “I don’t know what you boys think you’re doing…”
He never finished his sentence. A wall of flame erupted from the cave like a cannon, incinerating Angel on the spot. It blew out the wall of the building like balsa wood. Fire and the intruding rain battled for possession of scraps of debris as they tumbled out into the Flow. Mason’s ears rang, and all the hair on his forearms curled and burnt. If Angel hadn’t thrown him…
“My God, man! What have you done!” Tuk stood incapacitated by disbelief, framed in the doorway by a round of lightning. “All that I’ve built!” He held out his hands, those same two hands, stepping toward him. “You’re wasting it! Why?!”
Mason could barely hear him. He recovered enough to blurt out, “You blew up my ship!”
Tuk regained his composure. “You found out the truth. No matter. I would have told you tonight.”
“Why? Why would you destroy a cruise ship?”
Something outside distracted Tuk. He slammed the door shut and began moving furniture while he talked, “We are hunters, you and I. Just like the Paleolithic men before us. While our caves are better appointed,” he waved his hand around the richly furnished, now smoking, room, “they are caves nonetheless.” He jammed a chair underneath the doorknob. “Just like whalers, we hunt at sea. But our Leviathan is man-made.” He inspected it to make sure the door wouldn’t open, turned, and saw the gaping hole in the wall, open to the outdoors. “We reap what we can of supplies, rescue the survivors, and give them a new life here, with us. A free life.”