Savages

by Greg F. Gifune

  Nat and Andre are dead and this useless bitch is still alive, she thought. It felt foreign and ugly and not something she’d normally think, much less believe, but it sprang into Quinn’s mind suddenly and without warning. They were all spiraling down more and more each day, each hour, each moment. Farther and farther away from who they had once been and still believed themselves to be. Quinn had never been a violent person, yet she found her anger and annoyance toward Harper turning quickly to a desire to hurt her, to strangle her by her scrawny neck, to punch her in that brainless head and to shut that big mouth by whatever means necessary.

  “What?” Harper asked her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Without answering, Quinn turned and headed down the beach.

  ***

  “Take my hand,” Gino said breathlessly, reaching down to him. “I’ll pull you up.”

  With the sun behind him, all Dallas could see of Gino was a silhouette, and a hand reaching down through the glare. Hanging on for dear life at the edge of the rock summit, he was too tired and worn to pull himself up, but frightened to let go long enough to grab Gino’s hand. If he missed or their hands slipped, he’d slide more than a hundred yards down across terrain that would certainly badly injure and possibly even kill him. But he couldn’t hold on indefinitely either.

  “I got you,” Gino promised, planting his feet. “Come on. Take it.”

  Dallas lurched toward him, throwing his hand up, and Gino grabbed him, catching him by the wrist, which given the perspiration covering both, made for a better grip. With strength and confidence, Gino pulled him up.

  As he let go and fell onto the platform at the summit of the cliff, Dallas lay there a moment, sweating and exhausted and happy to have made it in one piece. “Thanks, man,” he said when he’d caught his breath.

  Gino, still bent at the waist and catching his breath too, said, “We got this.”

  “Getting back down’s gonna be fun.”

  He stood upright and moved across the uneven top of the cliff closer to the edge. Dallas regained his feet and joined him. Never a fan of heights, it was only then that he realized just how high they’d climbed. Without question the highest point on the island, he guessed they were at about four hundred feet. From here, the ocean looked endless, even larger and more ominously beautiful than it did from shore. And the sky was so big and vast it didn’t seem real.

  “Christ,” Dallas said, “we really are in the middle of nowhere, aren’t we?”

  “It’s beautiful though.”

  “Not when it’s trying to kill you.”

  “Even then.”

  Dallas looked down at the beach below. In the distance he could see camp, the fire, Murdoch and Harper near the fire, and Herm and Quinn down by the rocks.

  “It’s like we can see the whole world from here,” Gino said.

  “Ours anyway.”

  “That’s the only one that counts these days.”

  They moved across the summit to get a better view of the island behind them. Unlike the ocean and sky, the island appeared much smaller than Dallas suspected it might. Likely volcanic in origin, it was perhaps four miles long and roughly five hundred yards wide, eighty or ninety-some-odd acres mostly surrounded by large rock clusters and coral reef. There was nothing but jungle until the far side of the island, where they were able to make out more beach and what appeared to be a small lagoon. Unlike on their side of the island, the rocky shoreline and reef was absent.

  And then, in one section of jungle not far from the opposite side of the island, they saw something neither could immediately comprehend. Was it a hallucination, a trick of the sunlight and their exhaustion, or was it real?

  “Do you…Do you see that?” Dallas muttered, pointing.

  Gino shielded his eyes with his hand.

  “Gino…”

  “I see it.”

  “What do you think it—”

  “We have to get back to the others,” Gino said. “Now.”

  “Yeah,” Dallas replied, unable to look away from what he was seeing.

  This changed everything.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “What?” Quinn shook her head, as if hopeful it might dislodge and free her of the information she’d just received. “Buildings? You’re sure?”

  “A whole cluster of them in a cleared section of jungle,” Gino told her.

  “So there’s people here?” Harper asked hopefully. “They can help us!”

  “Jesus,” Herm moaned. “Doesn’t anyone have a shiny red ball she can play with while the adults talk?”

  Harper, wide-eyed and confused as ever, looked at him for further explanation.

  “Shut-up, asshole,” Gino snapped.

  “They looked like they’d been abandoned years ago,” Dallas said, dismissing them both. “Even at that distance it was obvious they were falling apart.”

  “Amazing,” Quinn said. “At some point there really were others here.”

  “Okay, but they’re not here now though?” Harper asked.

  “No, Harper.” Gino sighed, as even his patience with her was waning. “They’re not here now.”

  “Then who cares?” With a pout she stamped her foot in the sand. “WTF?”

  “Excuse me, Illustrious Grand Poobah?” Herm raised his hand. “May I speak?”

  “Just say your piece, idiot.”

  “It’s most likely an old Japanese encampment of some sort,” Herm explained. “Probably dates back to World War II, and it’s likely been abandoned since. I can’t imagine anyone else being way out here. Actually, I’m trying to figure out what they’d have been doing here too, but they’re the most logical choice.”

  Murdoch, who had joined them, agreed. “I’m surprised the Japs would’ve wanted this rock too. No strategic advantage really being this far out. Can’t land a plane here, difficult to get to, hell of time getting on and off of it, and unless there’s something I missed, nothing of any real value here. Still, about all that makes sense. Hell, this place isn’t even on the maps, and that’s rare today. I’ve lived and made my living in these waters for years, and until we wound up here I’d have sworn on a stack of Bibles there wasn’t any land out here until you hit Antarctica, and that ain’t exactly right around the corner, folks.”

  “We couldn’t see the entire layout,” Dallas said, sipping some water from their dwindling supply. “There’s a lagoon, and it looked like the reef didn’t extend all the way around to that side of the island. The buildings are less than a mile from the beach. They look really old and rundown, but they’re still standing. Or at least the ones we could see are.”

  Quinn knit her brow. “I know this sounds crazy, but I remember reading about Japanese soldiers who were found on a few remote South Pacific islands long after the war was over. They didn’t realize it wasn’t still going on and had no idea of the date. Could…I mean…Andre…maybe…”

  “You think some crazy old Japanese solider is running around out there?”

  Gino chuckled, though there was little humor in it. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “It’s happened before,” Quinn said.

  “Herm?” Dallas motioned to him. “You’re the history teacher.”

  “That I am, but you guys need a lesson in math, not history.”

  “Dipshit’s finally got something right,” Gino said, taking a drink of water. “They’d be way too old by now.”

  “While I hate to admit math might somehow be one of Gino’s strong suits, he’s correct. Even if we went out on a limb and assumed a soldier serving on this island was somehow left behind, and was only a teenager at the time, let’s say fifteen—he’d have likely been a few years older than that, at a minimum, but for the sake of argument we’ll go with that—World War II ended on September 3, 1945. It’s 2014. That’s sixty-nine years ago. Meaning even if we make our soldier the unlikely age of fifteen in 1945, today he’d be at least eighty-four years old. So unless we have a cranky senior citizen who wants u
s off his lawn, odds are that’s not the answer.”

  They remained quiet a while. Andre was on everyone’s mind, but there was nothing more to say, nothing that could erase or in any way soften the sight of his severed arm lying in the jungle. A warm breeze filled the silence, blowing in off the ocean with an eerie sound they’d become accustomed to.

  “How far away are the buildings from here?” Murdoch asked.

  “The island’s maybe four miles long and five to six football fields wide,” Gino said. “So we’re talking roughly six hundred yards of jungle and we’ll run right into them.”

  “There’s no telling what might be there,” Quinn said, “or what they may have left behind that could be of use to us. There might even be food.”

  “The Japanese had MREs similar to what Americans had,” Herm told them.

  “Would they still be edible after all these years?”

  “Some would. Theoretically at least, provided they remained sealed.”

  Quinn and Herm’s trip to the rocks hadn’t yielded anything other than a few tiny crabs and a small conch shell that turned out to be empty. Harper’s attempt at spearing a fish was even less successful, which left them with the few bits of coconut they had left over from the last one they’d split.

  “At this point I think I’d eat almost anything,” Quinn said.

  “Yeah,” Herm agreed, “these coconuts are giving me the exploding shits.”

  Harper winced. “Way too much information thanks!”

  “It’s not funny,” Gino said. “We’re starving and almost out of water. With all the energy Dal and I already expended today, we don’t get hold of some drinkable water and serious protein, we’re going to be in trouble.”

  “No one said it was funny.” Herm took up a sharpened stick. “You see anybody laughing?”

  Dallas, who had sat down to relax a bit, stood up and stretched. “Let’s get on with it. We stand around here talking about it all day, it’ll be nightfall before we know it. We need to get to that camp soon as possible and see what’s there.”

  “Absolutely,” Gino said. “Because we’re also talking about potential shelter. It may not be perfect, but it has to beat the open beach or those caves.”

  Quinn reached out, put a hand on Murdoch’s shoulder. “John, I’m not sure you’re ready for that kind of hike yet. Especially given the terrain and the thickness of the jungle. How are you feeling?”

  Murdoch’s expression left no doubt as to his level of frustration. Though the wounds to his eyes had been cleaned relatively well given the circumstances, there was still dried and caked blood covering one eye (which continued to ooze a clear fluid from its corner), and a series of deep scratches and contusions littering his face. “Vision’s getting better in the one eye, and I’m stronger than before, I—I can make it. Don’t worry about me.”

  “Q, you’re the one with medical experience,” Gino said. “It’s your call.”

  “No,” Murdoch said, staggering toward him and nearly losing his balance in the sand before managing to right himself. “I’m a grown man, and now that my head’s clearer and I’m up on my own two feet, I’ll make my own decisions. And remember, son, I’m Captain, this is my party. You’ve just been borrowing it.”

  “Not sure I’d be bragging about that right now,” Herm said.

  He spun toward him, or perhaps just the sound of his voice. “Hell you mean by that? You got something on your mind, wig-boy?”

  Harper burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hands far too late.

  “Go fuck yourself, Murdoch.” Herm self-consciously adjusted his wig then seemed to realize he was doing it and quickly dropped his hands. “If it wasn’t for you we wouldn’t even be in this mess.”

  “You’re out of your goddamn mind!”

  “If you knew what the hell you were doing you would’ve gotten away from that storm instead of running us right into it. We hired you with the understanding we’d be safe, that you knew your job.”

  “I was doing my job when you were in high school, boy!”

  “Then you’d think you’d know enough to get your passengers out of harm’s way and to safety instead of sinking your piece of shit boat and nearly killing us all.”

  Murdoch clenched his fists and raised them. “If it wasn’t for me we’d all be dead! None of us would’ve even made it into the water!”

  “Dream on, you fucking cretin.”

  “I lost a good man out there, a friend, I—”

  “Enough!” Dallas growled, silencing them both. “We can’t all go anyway. Someone has to stay behind and keep the fire going and watch over what little water we have left.”

  “Dal’s right,” Gino said. “We’ll probably move our camp there once we’ve scoped it out, but for now, we need to make sure that fire stays alive. Harper, you and Murdoch stay behind and watch over things.”

  “But, baby, I don’t want—”

  “Goddamn it, just do what I tell you to do!”

  Harper stomped off through the sand, pouting like a reprimanded preteen.

  After an awkward moment, Dallas said, “The rest of us should get moving.”

  “We need to get something straight first.”

  Dallas already knew what was coming. “Let it go,” he said quietly.

  “Murdoch, long as we were on your boat, you were in charge,” Gino told him. “But I run shit now. I’m not borrowing anything. You understand me? You’re feeling better, and I’m glad, but there’s only one captain here now, and it’s me.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Quinn moaned. “Do we really have to stand here and watch you two shake your cocks at each other?”

  Gino’s eyes remained locked on Murdoch. “You got me, old man?”

  Murdoch stood there, shaking with anger.

  “He heard you,” Quinn answered for him.

  “Good.” Gino quickly rummaged through the four or five sharpened sticks they’d made, grabbed one then addressed those coming with him. “Try your best to conserve your energy, the heat’s rising and we’re almost out of water. It’ll be tough going straight through the jungle, but it’s not all that far. Still, there’s no telling what we might run into between here and there.”

  “Or once we get there,” Dallas added.

  Gino nodded. “Or once we get there.”

  ***

  Using the stick as best he could, Gino took point, leading the way and slashing at the brush as they worked their way through the jungle. Some patches were quite thick and overgrown, while others were less so and easier to negotiate, but it was tough going throughout. Light trickled down through the canopy of vegetation overhead, and occasionally they’d reach areas where it was open and the sunshine shone bright and illuminating. Visibility was limited regardless, no more than a few feet at most even in the less congested sections of jungle. But they kept moving, the beach behind them becoming more distant with each passing moment.

  Dallas had hoped they’d already be there by now, but he was learning how deceiving the jungle could be. It was easy to lose one’s direction and sense of time and place here, and if you didn’t pay close attention to everything around you, the terrain began to look the same. One could wander in circles in this jungle for hours and never realize it.

  “You sure we’re going in the right direction?” Herm asked at one point, huffing and out of breath.

  When Gino didn’t answer, Dallas said, “We’ve got to be getting close.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Just keep moving,” Gino grunted.

  “God,” Quinn said, “it’s so hot.”

  Dallas, who was in the rear, gripped his makeshift spear tight and did his best to negotiate around potential hazards, his eyes open for any threats. Again, he found himself feeling as if he and the others were not alone in the jungle.

  They’d made it a bit farther when Quinn stopped, reached back and touched her husband’s shoulder. He came to an abrupt halt. “What is it?”

  �
�Did you hear that?” she asked softly.

  “Hold up,” he said, and when Gino and Herm stopped, he listened a moment. The breeze had either ceased or couldn’t reach them here, and except for their labored breath, the jungle seemed unusually quiet.

  “I could’ve sworn…”

  “I don’t hear anything,” Dallas said. “What was it?”

  Quinn’s eyes panned slowly back and forth at the section of jungle behind them and from which they had just come. “I don’t know. I thought I heard something.”

  “Like what?” Gino looked back over his shoulder.

  “Sounded like there was someone coming up behind us.”

  They listened.

  “It’s gone now,” Quinn told them. “But I…I know I heard something.”

  “I’ve had a strange feeling for a while now,” Dallas said. “Like we’re not alone.”

  Gino still had his tank top tied around his head. He pulled it free, wiped his face and neck down then tucked it into the waist of his shorts. “We need to keep moving.”

  “Yeah, we’re burning daylight here,” Herm said, his annoyance—or perhaps his fear—barely contained. “Got enough to deal with. Can’t keep stopping and worrying about every little sound. We’re in a jungle. There’s living things here. Sometimes they move around and make noise.”

  “Let’s go.” Gino pressed on. The others followed without comment.

  Moments later they were met by a warm breeze filtering through the jungle and bringing with it the smell of ocean.

  “Feel that? Smell it?” Gino drew in a deep breath. “We’re close.”

  Dallas looked up ahead, and through the jungle, perhaps forty yards away, he was able to make out a large clearing and a series of buildings beyond. Shocking from the cliffs, this close there was something even more surreal about it, an outpost abandoned for decades, a remnant of those who had resided here decades ago, on an island no one knew existed.

  They stopped, waited. For what, no one was sure.

  “Come on,” Gino eventually said, glancing back at the others before pushing his way through the final few feet of jungle.