by Larry Dodson
Back at camp George and Mike were enjoying feasting their eyes on the women as they went about their camp chores. The men made no false pretenses to conceal their lust. George had ordered Jordan to stand guard over the camp as he and Mike opened up the first of three bottles of wine. Feeling secure with Jordan standing watch they began a long morning of drinking.
“They’re working on the third bottle” Judy said, as she, Amanda and LuAnn continued to clean the old house.”
LuAnn held up a bunch of dead plants neglected by the previous occupants. “What a pig sty.”
“A pig sty fit for the pig that lives here. Kind of ironic, don’t you think?”
“I think you mean “pigs that live here”. Remember Mike sleeps here too.”
“Thanks Amanda, you just reminded me why I wished I was wearing rubber gloves.”
The women burst into laughter as Mike entered the room.
“Whazs so funny? I like to hear jokes.”
“It’s a girl thing. You wouldn’t get it.” Judy knew he would become unstable if he knew he was the focal point of the joke.
“Yeah, a gurrl thing, I get it.”
“Hey, I got a funny rhyme for you girls. Camp whores doing camp chores. Whatda ya think, pretty funny eh?”
“About as funny as you in a two piece bathing suit.” LuAnn said as she burst into laughter. Luckily Mike didn’t get it.
Mike’s slurred speech was the first indication of him drinking one to many glasses of wine. His bloodshot eyes were the second.
“Anyways Gorge, I mean George wants you all to go into the front room. He wants to have a party.”
This was the inevitable outcome the women had feared as they watched Mike and George drink bottle after bottle.
“Tell him we’ll be right there. Go on, tell him.” LuAnn practically shoved the fat man out the door.
As he staggered down the hallway LuAnn turned to Amanda. “Get out of the house. Take a glass of water out to Jordan. Don’t worry about us. We can handle them.”
As they entered the room, George lay straddled across the sofa cushions in his underwear. Mike sat across the room with his shorts pulled down to his ankles.
“Hey ladies, welcome to the party.”
“What happened to your shorts?” Judy asked.
“I dunno. Itz hot. I’m hot. You look hot. Take your shorze off.”
Amanda walked quickly through the room heading for the front door.
“Hey, where you going little gurlly?”
“She’s taking a glass of water out to Jordan. She’ll be right back” LuAnn said as she shielded Amanda’s exit from George’s view.
“Ain’t that sweet of her. Ain’t that right, Mike?”
Mike mumbled something incoherent as he slowly drifted into slumber land. This was looking like the lucky break they had been wishing for. One down and two to go.
“Listen George, why don’t I open up another bottle of wine while LuAnn dances for you?”
“Thatz whut I like to hear. Letzz party!”
Judy turned to face LuAnn and silently mouthed the words “keep him distracted.”
Judy could see Amanda through the front window. Amanda was doing her best to keep Jordan’s attention away from the house. Judy knew she only had minutes to search through the closets and drawers of the small bedroom. Time was running out as she frantically tore the room apart looking for the gun they had seen George flashing around on the porch.
“Hurrry up with the wine!”
George was growing impatient. LuAnn had to step up the distraction as she teased him by dancing to imaginary music in her head. She seductively unfastened the top button of her shorts.
“Where’s the wine bitch!” George scowled, growing more impatient as he looked toward the hallway.
To take George’s attention away from Judy, she slowly started unbuttoning the top she was wearing as she continued to sexually sway back and forth. The distraction succeeded in buying them a couple of more minutes.
Judy, glancing out the bedroom window, could see Jordan walking toward the house. Despite Amanda’s best effort to distract him, his sense of something not being quite right compelled him to check in on George.
“I found it!” Judy shouted from the hall.
“You finally found the wine?” George taking his eyes off LuAnn turned to look toward the hallway.
“No you son-of-a-bitch. I found your gun.”
As George focused his bloodshot eyes toward the direction of Judy’s voice he found the barrel of his pistol pointed directly at his head. The timing was perfect. Mike lay snoring in the chair and George was literally caught with his pants down. LuAnn buttoned up her top as she quickly took up position behind Judy. Before Judy could say a word Jordan entered through the front door.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Shoot the bitch. Shoot her now!” George yelled pointing toward Judy.
“No George, I won’t do it.”
The tension was definitely building.
“Judy, put the pistol down.” Jordan said in a calm voice.
“No Jordan, we’ve taken all the shit from him we can handle. You drop your gun or I swear I’ll send him to hell.”
“What are you waiting for? Kill the bitch!” George ordered.
Jordan could see the rage building in Judy’s eyes. If anyone was going to die it was going to be George. She had no idea how Jordan would react as she pulled the trigger.
“CLICK”
She pulled the trigger again, click… click. George burst into drunken laughter as Jordan slowly shook his head.
“You didn’t think George was stupid enough to leave a loaded gun laying around for you women to find did you?”
Judy now realized why Jordan was reluctant to obey George’s orders to shoot her. He knew the gun was empty all along. Judy surrendered the useless weapon to Jordan and the three women were promptly escorted back to the shack.
George was in no condition to fully realize what had just taken place. He spent the next few hours sleeping off his “good time”. There was a good chance when he sobered up he wouldn’t even remember what had happened. Mike, still passed out in his drunken stupor, had managed to sleep through the whole ordeal. The best the women could hope for was a little compassion from Jordan in the form of not helping to fill in the blanks of George’s fuzzy memory.
Jordan had promised Amanda if George asked him what happened he’d tell him,
“You had one hellava party boss.”
Chapter 16
Reflections
Around five o’clock the men returned to camp. As they entered the grounds Mark reached into the large bag he was carrying to proudly display one of the larger bonefish they had caught. The women did not react to the catch as they walked toward them. Jordan made no attempt to enforce their shack only incarceration as they approached the men.
“What’s wrong Lu?” Mark asked with a serious look on his face.
“You mean besides Judy pulling a gun on George today?”
“Whoa, what happened? Tell me he’s dead.”
“No such luck.” Judy said, continuing “George and Mike decided to start drinking wine right after you guys left. The more they drank the cruder they got.”
“They didn’t try to mess around with you gals did they?” Brandon asked knowing George and Mike as he did.
“Yes, and no. Mike passed out on a chair. LuAnn distracted George while Amanda kept Jordan away from the house. I tore the bedroom apart looking for his pistol.”
“Sounds like you found it. What happened?”
“To make a long story short, Jordan came into the house, I pulled the trigger and nothing happened. The gun wasn’t loaded.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way” Richard joined in “but why didn’t Jordan shoot you?”
“Because he knew the gun was empty, that’s why.”
“Where’s George and Mike now?”
“Still sleeping off George’s “good tim
e.”
“What’s going to happen when he wakes up?”
“Probably nothing. He was too fucked up to remember what happened and Jordan promised Amanda he wouldn’t jog George’s memory.”
The group gathered around the table as the women retold the story in greater detail. Everyone congratulated Judy for seizing the moment and having the “balls” to pull the trigger in spite of Jordan having his gun aimed at her.
Today’s events also forewarned of George’s increasing desire to gain carnal knowledge of the women. They were lucky today. A sober Mike and George might not have ended with the same outcome. Everyone agreed they were quickly running out of time. Another day maybe two at tops. The rough outline of their escape plan would receive the final touches under the roof of the shed tonight.
The women decided to clean the fish and prepare what hopefully would be the last dinner on the island. As George continued to sleep it off they took advantage of his absence to create a real meal. In addition to the fish they would enjoy instant mashed potatoes, veggies and dried fruits. A far cry from George’s staple of stew. Jordan sat on the porch quietly observing the table festivities. Amanda made up an extra plate and hand delivered it to him. You could tell from his reaction he was amazed and thankful for the gesture considering the circumstances.
As the women cleared the table Mark leaned in to confide in Brandon and Richard. He spoke in a lowered voice.
“Jordan didn’t shoot Judy today. Jordan promised Amanda not to tell George what happened. Maybe we’re miss-reading him.”
Mark stood up from the table and calmly made his way toward Jordan. He kept his hands in plain sight as he closed to within 15 feet of Jordan. At that moment Jordan was the only one capable of keeping the group in check. He suddenly stood up and pointed the rifle at Mark’s chest.
“Hold it. Don’t come any closer. What do you want?”
“I thought you and I could have a little talk about what’s going on around here. What do you think?”
“I think you need to turn around and go back to the table.”
“You can’t spare me five minutes?”
Jordan pulled back on the bolt chambering a round. It was a subtle way of making a point.
“OK, I see you’re not in the mood. Maybe another time.”
Mark returned to the table with the enlightened conclusion the only one capable of reaching out to Jordan was Amanda. It was his second and last attempt to befriend Jordan.
Twenty or so minutes had passed before George emerged from the house. Squinting through bloodshot eyes he slowly turned his head from one side to the other as he scanned the yard. He steadied his stance by holding on to one of the 4x4 posts that supported the porch roof.
“How’d the fishing go?”
The question was met with silence. The men chose not to answer for fear of expressing their opinion of what had happened in camp. They were fully aware of George’s escapade and obviously he wasn’t. They planned on keeping it that way.
“Come on guys. Loosen up. I know it probably wasn’t as much fun as we had here at camp, but what the hell.”
Mike, rubbing his eyes and looking pale, joined George on the porch. He might have had a good time drinking today but was definitely not up to par for replacing Jordan standing watch.
“Judy, why don’t you be a good girl and make us a pot of coffee. Mike’s gonna need it. The rest of you can go to bed.”
For once the group didn’t mind being told what to do. The privacy of the shed would give them the opportunity to rehearse their roles prior to tomorrow’s curtain call. Mike, in his weakened condition, became a non-issue. He might actually fall asleep on duty tonight. Taking advantage of his hung over state was not in the cards. Too many variables to go wrong. Everyone agreed to stick with the original plan.
Prior to falling asleep on his cushion that night, Brandon let his thoughts reflect back on the events that had led up to tomorrow’s planned showdown. What started out as a car wreck and power outage back in Palmetto quickly escalated into a life changing event. He and Judy experienced for the first time the mass chaos of a country in trouble. Their journey to this island had crossed paths with the best of humanity embodied in the crew of the “Wanderlust”, which stood in stark contrast to the fate of the crew onboard “Sanity”. Human goodwill and bonding among the group seemed to grow at the same pace as George’s corruption and deceit.
The war of wills, whether administered through popular consensus or enforced by dictatorial brutality, has always sat at opposite ends of the scale. In a balanced black and white world even a raging storm eventually gives way to blue skies and fair winds.
Chapter 17
Reluctant Party
The group formed their morning circle hours before sunrise. Amanda was keeping a close eye on Mike sitting on the porch as they quietly rehearsed their roles. Do or die, there would be no turning back. Their surrealistic circumstances pitted the group, much like the pieces on a chess board, against an evil opponent hell bent on removing them from the board. They had one slight advantage. George didn’t appear to be the type to play chess.
Nearing eight o’clock, Amanda could see Jordan leaving the house and making his way toward the shack. He was on his way to tell the women to start breakfast. He would then relieve Mike at his guard post and begin his shift watching over the men.
Breakfast proved uneventful. The group had to carefully mask the mixed emotions of nervousness and excitement as they finished their coffee. Brandon found it hard to make small talk as he tried to cancel out all the “but what ifs…” from his thoughts. The slightest betrayal of normal behavior could possibly result in forewarning their captors that something wasn’t quite right that morning. Surprise was going to be their greatest advantage.
George eventually walked through the doorway and took his normal position on the porch. He looked surprisingly alert and animated. A full nights rest had erased any signs of the previous day’s hangover.
“I see you guys caught a lot of fish yesterday. I suppose the girls told you we had quite a party ourselves. Oh, by the way Mark, LuAnn’s one hell of a dancer.”
George moved his hips back and forth as he pretended to unbutton his shirt. He was clearly trying to get a rise out of Mark. Mike stood in the doorway chuckling out loud. Mark kept his cool.
“What, no “I’ll kill you if you lay a hand on her?”
Mark continued to remain silent though his eyes clearly exhibited his true feelings.
“That’s okay, she’s going to do more than dance for me this afternoon.”
George was doing his best to antagonize Mark into a fit of rage. Any aggressive act would only aid George’s desire to depopulate the males on the island.
“Fine, I knew you were a pussy. Jordan, you and Mike take these old women to the clearing behind that stand of trees and have them dig a hole for a pond. A deep hole. You can’t have enough water around here.”
“Pond my ass” Brandon thought. He wasn’t even clever at having them dig their own grave. Their future couldn’t have been more transparent as Mike slipped two clips of bullets into his cargo shorts. Their lives could now be counted down in hours.
“Grab the shovels and water bottle. It’s going to be hot today. You heard the man.” Mike snapped, eager to carry out George’s true intentions behind the dig.
The clearing lay about three hundred and fifty feet from the house. The thick row of trees would completely hide the actions of the work detail from the house. The dirt was fairly firm and would take a few hours to excavate. Maybe longer with an unmotivated crew.
Jordan used a stick to sketch a large circle in the dirt. “Start digging along the line and work your way to the middle. Don’t drag it out. George wants it done today.”
Jordan took up position next to a large bush approximately fifteen feet from the circle. He pulled the brim of his straw hat forward to shade his eyes from the low morning sun. Mike sat deliberately across from Jordan. Their vantage
points totally eliminated any chance of successfully trying to make a run for it.
It was an extremely hot morning. Hotter than they had previously experienced on the island. Even their guards began to sweat profusely in the shade.
Mike totally hot and miserable ordered Brandon to bring him the glass water jug. Brandon hated catering to Mike’s laziness. He dropped the shovel where he stood and reluctantly made his way over to the water. As he raised the spout to his mouth to take a drink Mike shouted at him to stop.
“I didn’t say you could have a drink, just bring it to me.”
Brandon in a fit of rage yanked the jug away from his mouth. The force of the downward movement broke his grip on the glass container. As it hit the ground it broke into half a dozen pieces.
You could hear the rage build in Mike’s voice as he shouted, “You uncoordinated son-of-a-bitch. What the fucks wrong with you.”
Jordan interrupting Mike’s tantrum keyed the portable VHF radio. “George, this is Jordan. Brandon broke the water jug. Could you send Amanda out with another one? Over.”
A minute later George returned the radio call.
“Yeah, Amanda’s filling another jug. She’ll be right there in a minute and don’t let Brandon break this one. How are the ditch diggers doing?”
“Good as can be expected in this heat.”
“Yeah, I read ya. Hot as hell. Just make sure they finish today.”
“No problem.”
Richard, Mark and Brandon continued to shovel the dirt out of their own gravesite. Five or more minutes had passed since Jordan’s request for water.
“What’s taking your girlfriend so long?” Mike whined.
“Give her a few minutes and she’s not my girlfriend.”