Lou stood up. “I turned up nothing. I couldn’t see a thing.”
“Us either,” Jake said, and his eyes moved to the blood stain and bandage on Lou’s leg. “What happened?”
Lou pointed to Paul. “Coming back he hit me with an arrow.”
Paul held up his hand. “I was the first to return. I thought he was perhaps one of them.”
“Yeah, right,” Lou snapped. “Keep it up and I’m gonna pull a role reversal and chase your skinny ass down. Trust me, I’ll take great pleasure in scalping you.”
Jake huffed, and that’s all he had to do. It brought immediate tension and silence. “We can search again later. Right now, we need rest.” He took hold of Cal’s arm. “Especially my wife.”
Billy stepped into the conversation. “But what do we do Jake? What if they return?”
“I was thinking about setting some traps, posting a guard. I don’t know. Bill, this may all be for nothing. They may not be here.”
“Then again, they may.” Billy widened his eyes. “While we sleep, what do we do? Does one of us stay on guard?”
“Yes.” Jake looked around the group. “Whoever got the most rest will take it.”
Billy tossed his hands up. “I don’t know who that would be. We all waited up for you guys.”
“All?” Jake shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
With a ‘boom’ the door to the bungalow burst open, and Jake nearly tripped when he barged in. Shaking the black tee shirt caught on his boot, Jake, disgusted, looked around and marched right up to Rickie’s bed, where, like a baby, he was curled up and sound asleep. “Rickie!” Jake screamed his name, nudging him less-than-gently with the butt of the rifle. “Up!”
“Sarge.” Rickie snuggled with is pillow. “Like, I’m dreaming of some hot Hawaiian babe. Later guy.” Rickie’s eye widened when he heard the pumping of a shotgun chamber.
“Now, Rickie.” Jake waited for Rickie to sit straight up. “You’re on guard duty.” He tossed the shotgun to Rickie. “Get up. Get dressed and get out there.” Jake marched to the door, stopped and turned around. “Now!”
“Okay, okay.” Rickie slowly swung his legs over the bed. “But, like, if I see them, what do I do?”
Jake paused before stepping outside. “You can call for help. You can shoot them or . . . just go a little Rickie-Monster crazy on them.”
“Cool.” Rickie bobbed his head in pleasure staring at the shotgun. And when he knew Jake was gone, Rickie got out of bed, stopping before his dresser mirror. Then, just to amuse himself and start his day off right, Rickie took a minute to do a few ‘Rambo with a morning erection’ poses before he got dressed and played security guard.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
I-S.E. Thirteen - The Island
May 3rd - 12:33 p.m.
A little bit of the picture from the lit screen and a little bit of Cal reflected off of Billy’s glasses as they stood peering at the small monitor, watching a tape.
“Stop,” Cal told him. “Back it up.” She peered closer. “Stop . . . play.”
“What do you see?” Billy leaned close, his face nearly touching next to hers.
“Back it up again.” Cal touched the screen. “Right . . . there.”
“What?”
“Did you see? There were figures in the woods.”
“Where?” Billy backed up the tape.
“There.” Cal pointed.
“There’s nothing there.”
Cal ran her hands through her hair. “I saw movement.”
“How can you see anything, Cal?” Billy stopped the tape. “I was focusing on the volcano. And why weren’t you watching that?” Billy pressed eject.
“What’s it gonna do, Billy?” Cal asked. “Dance?”
“Erupt.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m telling you. Why else does Jake want to keep you out of the area? He said the sulfur smell has increased. And Cal . . .” Billy held up his finger, which Cal swiped away. “That is consistent with eruptions. So explain that.”
“I can explain Jake. He’s being very anal with me. Strict. Regimented. Demanding . . .” She noticed Billy just staring at her. “What?”
“When . . . when isn’t Jake, strict, regimented, and demanding with you? He’s only worse now.” Billy began to put the miniature tape away.
“So what are you going to do with all these pictures and tapes you have neatly tucked away in the indestructible Billy box?”
“Fire box. And I’m safe keeping them. It’s my story, and I take no chances. I’m even tossing my disks in here, especially after hearing about the last experiment. This box will leave the island. I may not go with it but . . .”
“Billy,” Cal said his name with sadness. “Don’t even let me hear you say that, okay.”
“Okay. Besides, this is my big break, right? A book deal. A weekly segment in Mr. Montgomery’s news mag. And a special spot on Day and Time. All hooked up.”
“Yep. You’ll be the big celebrity. No more waiting for you to call me and say, ‘Cal, I’m on Thursday. Late news. Don’t pay attention to the story I’m doing. It’s about a cat . . .” Cal started to laugh.
“Cal, I called you every single time I was on the air. I know you said you didn’t, but did you ever miss one?”
“Are you kidding? No way. I never missed a single story of yours. And just so you know . . . neither did Jake. If he was home, and you were on at three in the morning, we got up.”
“I really appreciate the support.”
“I know you do,” Cal told him. “I know that writing and journalism is what you want to do, and you’ve been doing it. But I also know . . .” Cal winked. “You have this picture of yourself being that big guy who beaks that big story. The Walter Cronkite of his time.”
“Silly, huh?” Billy got ready to close the tape case.
“No. Not at all. You’ll do it to. This may not be the Clinton Affair, but it certainly is entertaining and investigative. And . . .” Cal stopped him. “Is this Rickie’s interview?” Cal pointed to the little tape obviously marked ‘Rickie’.
“Yes,” Billy answered. “The first one. I probably won’t use it because he is really out there.”
Cal snickered. “Can I see it?”
“Sure.” Billy grabbed the tape. “I have to get set up for Jake. He was bitching as it was about doing an interview. And if I’m not ready, you know Jake.”
“He’ll bitch some more.” Cal watched Billy place in the tape. She then watched him grab the remote pointing it at the player not three inches away. “Why do you do that? Why do you use the remote?”
“I’m a guy.” Billy pressed play. The screen was blue and then the screen shot was not one of color but of black and white. And the picture wasn’t Rickie, it was Billy and Cal in bed. “Oh my God.”
“Um . . .” Cal tapped her finger on her lips. “This isn’t Rickie.”
“No.” Billy stopped the tape and ejected it. “Not at all.” He looked at the label. “Shit. What happened to my Rickie interview?”
“What did I tell you about not locking up your stuff when you’re in this room?”
“I won’t do that again. I can tell you, this box gets locked even if I’m sitting in that stupid Unity circle.” Billy placed the tape in a case and put it in the box and began to close the lid.
“Why did you do that?”
“Do what?’
“I saw that.”
“Saw what?”
“You kept the tape.”
“The, uh, tape . . .” Billy shut the lid. “You know what, Cal? I need the tape. I didn’t bring that many.”
“So you’re saying . . . you’ll erase it later?” Cal asked.
“Oh, sure.”
“Liar.”
“What?” Billy asked. “Now would I keep that without erasing it?”
“Yes.” Cal nodded.
“For what purpose?”
“Let’s hope it’s certainly not to Jerk-off.”
“Cal, please.” Jake walked in Billy’s bungalow. “Now is that appropriate discussion to be having with Billy?”
“Yes, Jake, it is,” Cal told him. “Because Billy has . . .”
“A headache,” Billy interrupted.
“A headache?” Jake questioned. “Well take a fuckin aspirin, Bill. That’s the usual route taken.”
“I’ll uh . . .” Billy ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ll do that.” He clenched his teeth and whispered to Cal. “I’ll erase it.”
“Erase what?” Jake asked.
Cal answered. “A bad interview he did with me, Jake. I want him to do it again. My hair was bad.”
Jake spun his head to Cal. “Bad hair? When did you become so vain?”
“And speaking of vain . . .” Billy spoke up. “Can you tell her that volcano is going to erupt?”
Jake’s mouth opened with a curl to his top lip. “What the fuck does that have to do with vanity?”
“Nothing.” Billy shook his head. “But can you tell her? She doesn’t believe me.”
“Cal,” Jake spoke calmly. “The volcano is going to erupt.”
“Will the eruption kill us?” Cal asked.
“Probably not. No.” Jake shook his head. “It may trigger some small quakes and a tidal wave or two, but other than that, if worse comes to worse, we grab some stuff and move to higher ground.”
“Oh, okay.” Cal nodded. “Sounds like fun.”
“It should be,” Jake commented.
“Sick.” Billy spoke up. “And I’ll set this up for your interview, Jake.”
“You aren’t set up.” Jake began to bitch. “Fuck. You make me hold off on my Rickie training and you aren’t even ready? How long will it take? I’m busy.”
Billy hesitated in getting a new tape. “Doing what?”
Cal decided to answer that question. “Billy, he has an agenda.”
Jake held his hand out to Cal. “See. She knows. Busy.”
“And a little tired.” Cal grabbed Jake’s hand. “Do you mind if I just go lay down for a little before lunch?”
Jake looked at her with concern. “What’s wrong? Did you work too hard this morning? You have to let me know if I’m . . .”
“Jake.” Cal kissed his hand. “I’m just tired. That’s all. Give me a half hour?”
Jake looked at his watch. “How about an hour instead? If you’re saying you’re tired, then your body must be feeling it.” He leaned down to her and kissed her. “Rest.”
“I will.” Cal moved to the door. “And good luck with the interview.” She snickered at Jake’s groan and she walked out.
Stepping off the porch she felt a twinge of nausea hit her, that sick feeling she got as her stomach neared emptiness. And seeing how she didn’t want to wake up to a full blown regurgitation episode, Cal decided to get a fresh snack before laying down. And instead of going to her right to her own bungalow, she walked straight and on a direct course to raid Judge’s garden.
She saw Judge en route. Cal didn’t know whether it was guilt or fear of being busted, but she asked for permission to grab something from the garden he had worked so hard on. Judge didn’t mind, he told her to help herself and informed her that there were some green tomatoes there if she wanted to pick them so Lou could fry them up - as promised - for her.
Feeling so southern thinking of her fried green tomatoes, Cal headed back to the garden, a part of her wishing Judge would have grown some lettuce because there was nothing Cal would like more than a salad.
Working for her food didn’t bother her. She actually enjoyed digging up the radishes. Sort of like hitting the duck pond at kiddie land, never knowing what you would get until you turn it over, or in the case of Judge’s radishes, pull them out.
Wanting to get the hardest pick done with, Cal knelt on the ground looking at the green leaves of the radish plants. She removed some dirt with her fingernails, nails that had grown too much for her liking, and she pulled out the first plant. Perfect size. Reaching for the second plant, she saw the black soft leather tennis shoes. Cal cringed, dusted off her hands, and took herself out of the vulnerable kneeling position. She stood up raising her head to Larry. “Is there something you want?” She snapped at him.
“I hate your husband,” he told her.
Cal laughed. “Well, probably so do about five thousand other men back at Fort Bragg, so step in line.”
Larry sneered at her moving back as he spoke. So much hostility. So much anger. “You know, payback is a real bitch, Cal. A real bitch. It’s pay back time for you.”
A snicker escaped her. “What the hell is . . .”
A hand. A huge hand came from behind her, covering her mouth so tightly she could barely breathe. It shut her up at the same time another arm braced around her front in a grip, and her legs were grabbed and she was lifted from the ground.
Cal shifted her body in a struggle, but the two people held her tight. A man held on to her legs. He smiled a gross smile at her, his hair long and greasy and dangling as he carried her. And the other man who had her, all she could see was the dark skin of the hand that covered her mouth and the arm that wrapped around her shoulders. Jolting to free herself, Cal brought up her hands to try to free her mouth when both her arms were grabbed. Stretched out far and held tight, Cal was then carried through the woods like some sort of animal moving towards its sacrificial altar.
Caldwell Research Center - Los Angeles, CA
May 3rd - 12:45 p.m.
Lyle’s fingers clicked once on a keyboard as he looked up. The electronic map of the island, blue, green and yellow in color, showed a wide shot view, then it zoomed in on an area. They watched a set of lights move. “Heading out of the camp area again.” Lyle looked over his shoulder to tell Greg who leaned in between him and Barb.
“How long were they there?” Greg asked.
Barb answered. “Ten minutes maybe.”
“Near Larry’s again?” Greg questioned further.
“In the vicinity,” Lyle answered. “But then . . .” He pointed to the monitor of Larry’s room. “There he is.”
“We ought to put a fuckin tracking device in his arm. What is he up to? He is up to something.” Greg shook his head in disgust then stopped cold. His eyes raised slowly and widely to the wall of monitors. “Where’s Cal?”
I-S.E. Thirteen - The Island
May 3rd - 12:50 p.m.
It was bad enough that Cal got sick so easy, but now she had to use everything she had inside of her not to throw up. Fight off the gagging that came from the dirty cloth shoved in her mouth and bound there with another cloth, she used her hatred, her disgust, watching the four men, not far from her, create a bloody mess of themselves as they each sliced open their upper left arms.
Her fingers fidgeted with the rope that tied her arms behind her to a tree. Cal kept her eyes peeled at Luther, who was the obvious leader. He bandaged himself and stood up at the same time as the others. He kept his eyes on her, and she kept hers on him, trying to use her peripheral vision to keep the others in her focus.
He was so disgusting to her, not just in appearance but his whole attitude, that all she wanted to do was just throw up all over his pathetic ass the second he removed the gag.
Luther smiled. He had a silver tooth, the only one in his smile that hadn’t rotted away. He closed his fist and stepped to Cal. “Lights out baby doll.” He swung back careening his fist into the side of Cal’s face.
Cal’s head flung to the right and she lifted it, glaring at him.
Luther was a bit shocked at first, and then he laughed it off. “Didn’t give her all I got. But the bitch can still take a punch. Did you hear me bitch?” He asked Cal. “I said lights out.” He clenched his huge fist tighter, taunting Cal with it as he pulled it back in her view. Glare and all on his face, biting his bottom lip, Luther brought his fist toward Cal. Just as he tossed it, Cal dropped to
the ground, causing Luther’s powerful fist to smash into the tree’s trunk.
Hands free from the rope she had untied, Cal pulled the gag from her mouth, locked both hands together, and, jumping to her feet, she brought her hands up into Luther’s gut causing his body to bend down. Still joined, she lifted her hands high, cracked them down onto his back, then grabbed hold of Luther’s collar. With both hands, a grunt, and everything she had, she jolted Luther and smashed him head first into the tree. “Meet the star pupil of Graison 101 . . . you asshole.” With her last words, Cal delivered her final blow, bringing up her bent leg hard and kicking Luther in the center of his chest with her knee. He rolled over and fell to the ground.
In ready mode, arms out and waiting, Cal turned to see the other three charging her way. Axe, the greasy, long-haired man, swung his arms out like an ape. Cal dodged his swing, ducked and sailed her fist into his gut. Standing up, with a clock turn spin of her body, Cal kicked out, nailing Rapper in the side of the face. The momentum of her kick carried into Wilson, the thinnest and smallest of them, hitting him as well. Coming out of her kick, Cal was greeted with a fist, fast and hard, into her cheek. He took her by surprise, and she stumbled a step or two, caught her balance and charged, forward into Axe, the one who had hit her. She tossed two fast jabs, both to his face, neither of which fazed him much., The punch to his stomach caused a slight grunt, but the knee shot to his groin caused him to whimper.
If Jake had taught her anything, it was if she ever found herself in a bad situation, do what she could to get out of it and run like hell. And that’s what Cal wanted to do. Two steps into her bolting run, her long hair was grasped and yanked so fiercely that Cal literally flew backwards, her feet sweeping out from under her, and she landed hard to the ground on her back. She bounced with a grunt, shifted her eyes, and saw the legs of Rapper. She quickly brought up her one leg, hooked it on his, scissor-locked it with her other leg, and brought Rapper to the ground. Joined nearly in what wrestlers would call a ‘figure four’, Cal, turned her body, flipping Rapper and bringing herself to her hands and knees. The moment she raised her eyes was the moment she was kicked in the side of the head.
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