Savages

by Greg F. Gifune

  “I’m not even sure what this is anymore.”

  “It’s a fight. It has been since that boat went down and we went into the water.”

  “And now the world’s gone insane, and us along with it. Nothing makes sense anymore.” He crawled closer to her, struggling to control his emotions. “Never been so goddamned frightened in all my life.”

  “Me either,” Quinn said softly. “If I thought I could get away with it, I’d curl up in a ball and have myself a good cry. Then I’d go to sleep, and when I woke up we’d be back home. Safe and sound.”

  His eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

  “I need to be stronger.”

  “You’re plenty strong.” She reached out and touched his wrist, holding it a while and stroking it gently with her thumb. “You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known, and I love you. More than anything in the world.”

  A spasm-like smile twitched across his face as he cupped her face with his hand. “Love you too.”

  She leaned in closer and they kissed.

  “Let’s finish this,” Quinn said.

  While they did, Herm continued tending to the fire. He had it going good and strong, while acting as a sentry of sorts, watching the jungle and the tunnel opening as best he could.

  Gino and Harper had ventured farther down the beach to the rocks and caves in search of food. Even though Herm and Quinn had done the same earlier and come up virtually empty, after an hour or so, Gino returned with a decent-sized crab. Still alive but skewered on one of the makeshift spears he’d made, the creature’s legs moved and clicked like an alien entity while Harper looked on in disgust.

  “Holy cow, will you look at that,” Herm said, noticing the crab. “Where’d you find that sucker?”

  Rather than answer, Gino looked over at the flames. “Good job on the fire.”

  Genuinely surprised, it took Herm a moment to reply. “Thanks.”

  “Keep feeding it. I want it big as we can get it tonight.”

  “It’s not like whatever’s out there doesn’t know we’re here.”

  “Good chance it’s watching us right now.” Gino looked to the jungle. “Obviously whatever it is has no issue attacking in broad daylight, but in the dark we’ll be at an even bigger disadvantage. That’s why I want this beach lit up like a stadium. If it tries to hit us tonight, I want to see the sonofabitch coming.”

  Herm eyed the crab as it struggled, impaled on the stick. His mouth watering, he could already taste the meat inside that shell. “God, I’m so hungry.”

  “Well, tonight we eat.”

  “Looking forward to it, trust me, but we need to get a hold of some weapons too,” Herm said, forcing his mind away from the food. “I don’t know what we’re dealing with yet, but whatever it is, something tells me a bunch of pointy sticks aren’t going to cut it.”

  “I know. I’m working on it. For now, stay alert.”

  Herm nodded and gave a smile. This was the first civil conversation he and Gino had engaged in since before they’d left the resort. Even on the yacht Gino had been aloof and short with him, and though he knew they would never—could never—be friends, it was nice to take even a brief respite from the constant bickering.

  Without a word, Harper shuffled over to the fire and sat down before it, staring into the flames and shooting sparks as if in a trance.

  “She all right?” Herm asked quietly.

  Gino glanced at her then returned his focus to the jungle. “No.”

  “Keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Every time I hear a noise or look at the jungle I expect something to come running out at us, I’m a goddamn bundle of nerves. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for her to actually see it happen.” Herm scratched at the back of his neck. “I wish I hadn’t said those things to Murdoch. I didn’t—I mean—I didn’t even get a chance to make it right with him, I—I don’t always mean the things I say, I—I need to learn to keep quiet sometimes, I—”

  “Much as I’m all for you shutting the hell up more often, an old salt like Murdoch should’ve known better and gotten us the hell out of there well ahead of that storm. Truth of it is he was in his cabin drinking and leaving everything to Davis when he should’ve been on top of things. Cost Davis his life and almost killed the rest of us in the process. So for whatever it’s worth coming from me,” Gino said, moving by him and toward the fire, “you were right. Fuck him.”

  Unsure which had stunned him more—Gino’s attempt at kindness or his final remark—Herm struggled to decide how, or even if, he should react. He was saved by Dallas and Quinn, who returned to camp just then, dirty and bathed in sweat.

  “It’s done,” Dallas told him.

  Herm motioned to Gino, who was kneeling by the fire with the crab. “Our illustrious leader caught us dinner.”

  “Oh my God,” Quinn said, hurrying toward him. “Food!”

  Dallas was starving too, but his stomach was still sore from the heaving. Part of him wanted to embrace the exhaustion and desire to simply shut down, but the island had become too dangerous for that now. Instead, he held tight to the growing cold anger building inside him, the base side he’d always rejected, the primal slithering up out of the darkest parts of his psyche like a warrior summoned to battle.

  Out over the ocean, clouds crept in, slowly stealing the sun.

  “Here comes the night,” Herm said.

  Already blood on the sun, Dallas thought. Why not the moon?

  Gino killed the crab as, one-by-one, they converged on it, tearing the creature apart and ripping free the meat, stabbing it with their sticks and pushing it into the fire in a frenzy of hunger, lust, fear and anguish.

  Concealed within the jungle, but closer than they could’ve imagined, something watched with a hunger and bloodlust all its own.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Fire cut the night, crackling and spitting sparks and flame into the air the more they fed it, the stronger it grew, the harder it fought the darkness. Primeval and hypnotic, it possessed power and magic unlike anything else, and on the beach, it provided enough light to illuminate their camp and a sizeable surrounding area. Despite their exhaustion, sleep came only in short, fitful intervals, if at all. Still crippled with terror, Harper spent hours gazing blankly into the fire or watching the darkness and jungle beyond. Quinn tried to talk with her a few times in the hopes of assessing and getting a better handle on her emotional and mental state, but Harper was either uninterested or unable to engage, and mostly ignored her.

  While Herm fed the fire, Gino roamed about like a restless ghost, walking the sand or moving about down near the water before disappearing into the night, only to return moments later. On one of his rounds, he noticed Dallas had left Quinn by the fire and was walking the sand between their camp and the ocean. It reminded Gino of better times, though he wasn’t sure why. He’d never seen his friend so worn out, so depleted and frightened, so weary. Yet in that strange moment, where only the vaguest of shadows revealed his presence, Gino remembered the happier times they’d shared.

  We’ll never know that again. Even if we beat the odds and get off this godforsaken island, even if we somehow make it home, we’ll never know that kind of peace and abandon again. This will always be with us, a scar that will never heal.

  In that awful darkness, as the night slogged on, Gino thought about his life and all the things he’d done. So much wasted time, he realized now. Sure, he’d been on countless adventures, seen and been to places most only read about and experienced things most only watched on television. But beyond that, what had he really done with his life? Dallas and Quinn had each other. They’d built a life together and were as much in love as they’d been the day they were married and he’d served as Dallas’s best man. He had Harper, but he didn’t even know her that well. Truth was, he’d never cared to. She was tits, ass and a pretty face, a distraction, someone there to help him feel younger than he wa
s and to keep his ego inflated. He fucked her because he could, not because he had any real feelings for her. Now, in the dark of night so far from home, Gino knew he’d let the really important things slip free. It had been a trade, he knew, and one he’d always felt was worth it. He was free, no responsibilities beyond his job, and could come and go as he pleased, do the things he wanted to do, buy the things he wanted to buy, enjoy his life as he saw fit however he saw fit whenever he saw fit. So why did he feel so unfulfilled, so unhappy, especially now that he realized he might never get a chance to make it all right? Because he’d been wrong, and he knew that now. Maybe just like Harper he was nothing but a distraction too, a mild amusement for others, the rugged outdoorsy tough guy with the vacuous good-looks and the body most guys half his age would’ve killed for, a cliché others rolled their eyes over and laughed at when he wasn’t looking.

  The voice deep within him continued to whisper things he didn’t want to hear, and though he made a conscious effort, he was unable to silence it. Perhaps it was just his own voice rattling around in his head, but Gino couldn’t be sure. Perhaps it was a premonition, an instinctual warning designed to let him know their days were numbered and now was the time to acknowledge these things, before it was too late to atone for them. Even if he only did so in his mind, maybe that might buy him peace, knowing that if he had the chance again, he’d do things right. He’d look for love, not just sex, and try to build a life about something other than his wants and desires. He thought of his parents, his sisters and their children—his nieces and nephews—his other friends back home, the guys at work, and how he’d let them all down by rarely being there for them or focusing on anything but himself.

  Or maybe that was just more pie-in-the-sky bullshit. Maybe none of it made a goddamn bit of difference because none of them would ever leave this place alive. There was a predator on this island, and they were its prey. Like any animal, Man knew when Death was near. Maybe his years of working out and preparation would turn out to be more than vanity after all, Gino thought. Here, in this hell, it was an asset, a weapon, and one they desperately needed.

  Maybe it was here that he’d make a difference in not just his own life, but the lives of others as well, of these people who counted on him. Gino had never been the religious sort, and when it came to spiritual matters, considered himself an agnostic. But if there was greater purpose to this life, if things did, in fact, happen for a reason, as so many people often said and seemed to believe, maybe this was what it had all led up to. Maybe he’d been training and working for this his entire life without ever realizing it.

  Gino glared defiantly at the night, the jungle, as if willing his fear away and transferring it to the darkness and whatever hid within it.

  This is my shot, he thought.

  “I’m coming out of my skin.”

  Startled and immediately upset with himself for letting his guard down even for a moment, he saw that Dallas had sidled up next to him. “Few more hours,” he said, feigning a casual tone, “it’ll be light.”

  “Murdoch was killed in broad daylight.” Dallas scratched at the growth of beard along his chin. “We’re not safe either way.”

  “Neither is whatever’s out there.” From the corner of his eye, Gino saw Dallas nod, but he wasn’t sure he believed him this time.

  “Look, if something happens to me, I want you to promise you’ll—”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to you, Dal.”

  “If it does…”

  Gino finally looked at him.

  “You make sure Quinn—”

  “You kidding? Quinn’s the toughest one here.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I’ll die before I let anything happen to her,” Gino told him. “Or you.”

  “Me too.” Dallas cleared his throat awkwardly. “I need to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me.”

  “Have I lied to you yet?”

  “Far as I know, not in all the years I’ve known you.”

  “Then ask.”

  “Can we get off the island? Can you build something that we can survive on out there? Is it possible?”

  “Possible? Yeah, sure, it’s possible.”

  “But not likely?”

  “It’s not like the movies, where you go into the jungle and with no problem find all the right things and all of sudden you have a seaworthy raft. If we can do it, and I mean if, we’re talking about a lot of work, even more luck, and we’ll need the right materials and tools. Real tools, not a bunch of sharpened sticks. Hopefully once we scavenge that outpost we can find what we need, but even if we do, our chances on the open ocean aren’t good either, Dal.”

  “Believe me, I’m in no hurry to go back out there, but we don’t have much choice. We can’t stay here, man. We need to run.”

  “Never been much of a runner.”

  “Neither have I, but we need to get the hell off this island, because whatever’s out there, we’re not equipped to fight it. You saw what was left of Andre. You saw what it did to Murdoch. We can’t fight this thing. We can’t.”

  Gino’s dark eyes slowly panned through the darkness. “We may have to.”

  “We’ll die.”

  “Better to die swinging than running.”

  “Christ, it almost sounds like you want to fight it.”

  “I want to live.”

  “I want everyone to live.”

  Gino took a step away, farther from the fire and deeper into the night. “Keep an eye on things, I’m gonna make another sweep. Be back in a few.”

  Dallas looked to the fire. “Maybe I should go with you this time,” he said.

  But Gino was already gone.

  ***

  By the time the sun had risen high in the sky, bringing with it the usual stifling heat that draped the island, they had returned to the outpost with what little they had. There wasn’t much drinkable water left, but Gino was able to rig a section of the rubber raft they’d originally used as a rain-catcher into a makeshift canteen of sorts. By tying off the end with a strong thin vine, it formed a pouch of liquid that could be more easily transported without spilling. They made torches and carried the fire with them, leaving the bonfire they’d spent all night feeding to burn down on the far beach.

  Now, in the shadows of the outpost, they stood watching the buildings and listening to the jungle surrounding them. They’d been certain an attack would occur between camp and the outpost, but none came. The resulting stress and tension, the horrible anticipation, was crippling.

  “Why doesn’t it attack us?” Quinn asked, scanning the section of jungle from which they’d come. “What’s it waiting for?”

  “Maybe it’s toying with us,” Herm suggested. “You know, like a cat does with a mouse? When I was a kid, I had this cat, Ruffles, and whenever he caught a mouse he’d let it almost get away, you know? But right before it got to the end of his reach, he’d pluck it up and pull it back over to him. He’d do that for hours sometimes, and every time that poor mouse would make a break for it, thinking it was going to get away. The whole thing seemed to amuse Ruffles, but when he finally tired of it, he’d kill the fucker. Quickly. Efficiently. Then he’d eat it.”

  “That was comforting,” Dallas said. “Great story.”

  “I loved that cat. He was my best friend when I was a kid.”

  “A predator always has the advantage of knowing when and where and how it’s going to attack,” Gino said, finally weighing in. “What we need to do is establish a defendable position here. Then we’ll use the torches and search the main building, see what we can find.”

  “Which building are we bunking in?” Herm asked.

  “None just yet.” Gino motioned to the nearby beach and lagoon. “We need to set up camp there for now. Small area, only one way in or out. If anything comes at us—”

  “When.”

  It was the first thing Harper had said in hours, and silenced Gino in midsentence.

  “
It’s coming back for us,” she continued, her cartoonish voice void of any emotion whatsoever, “and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  “We’ll not only be able to see something coming,” Gino said through a hard sigh, “we’ll have a better chance of defending ourselves and our position. Once things are under control, or if the elements get bad again, we can always take shelter in one of these buildings. But until we know what’s going on and what we’re dealing with, we need a more secure position, and the lagoon is it. Now let’s get to work.”

  With that, they set to performing as best they could what had become their rituals. They set up camp on the small stretch of beach before the lagoon. Herm handled getting the fire going, using the torches to light up the driftwood and other small burnable sticks and vegetation the others had gathered. Once it was underway, Gino secured the water and few supplies they had while Dallas rummaged and found numerous metal containers he washed out in the lagoon and positioned about as rain catchers. Quinn took charge of the torches, making certain both kept burning.

  And then, with Herm in possession of one torch and Quinn the other, the group moved as one, like displaced children lost in a nightmare, back along the sandy path to the outpost. They stopped before the formidable building. The heavy metal door, ajar like they’d left it, awaited them.

  “Shouldn’t someone stay behind and keep an eye out?” Herm asked.

  “We stay together,” Gino said, reaching for a thick, club-like piece of wood partially concealed in the dirt at his feet. “If it wasn’t so heavy we could close the door behind us and secure it, but I’m worried we might not be able to get it back open, so we’ll just have to risk it and stay alert. From now on, we stay together.”

  “Gino,” Quinn said, “what if it’s already in there?”

  He wrenched the club free of the ground and inspected it, testing the weight of it against his other hand, slapping it down into his open palm. Satisfied, he approached the door, then looked back at the others. “That’s a chance we’ll have to take.”