by Alex Just
~ Island – pacific ~
The day’s had been uneventful since the traumatic event of Julia’s uncle’s, Roger’s, death. In that time, she’d remained in a corner of the cave, practically unmoving. Not saying a word, pouring over the diary which Tom had found on the ship and eventually given to her, after realising it now belonged to her. He was sure of it; Julia knew what was going on with him. She was holding something back.
It pained both Tom and even Martin to see her stripped bare of all persona and so vulnerable, even though she could be trying. They both tried to get her to talk about Roger, to help her get over what happened, but she remained resolutely silent. A depressing weight had fallen on all of them. Martin and Tom only exchanged words in hushed whispers and only if it was absolutely necessary. They didn’t leave their cave, out of fear of what had happened to Roger. Tom knew that he couldn’t ask Julia for information on why he was sketched into her uncles diary, why he had been watching Tom, at least not so soon after his death.
The only exception had been Martin, when he was sure no one was watching, he had gone and retrieved the thorns from the plant where they’d been attacked. The exploration went without incident; he successfully got a sizeable collection of thorns. Back in their cave, safe from any prowling murderers, he’d proudly shown Tom what he’d accomplished.
‘Are you out of your mind?’ Tom’s angry whisper carried louder through their cave than he’d meant it to. A quick glance over to Julia showed she took no more notice of it than she had of anything else. ‘You could have been attacked again and I wouldn’t have been able to save you a second time!’
‘Take it easy mate, I’ve got what I need to complete the hunting stuff and I’m fine. Now stop fretting like a nun and do something with your time while I work on the bow and the spears.’
Tom knew Martin well enough to realise that arguing with him about this was pointless. He also suspected that Martin wanted to cross over the mountain onto the other side of the island to see if he could find his parents, or other survivors of the wreck. This would only work if he had some way to defend himself. So he kept his mouth shut and left Martin to his own.
It wasn’t long after that day when Martin gave a yell of pure delight, startling Tom out of his thoughts and even getting a glance from Julia.
‘I’m finished. We can hunt those pigs with these. These can actually do some harm.’ His grin was huge and his excitement contagious. With a flourish he pulled out a bow, strung with a line of cat-gut, from the raft’s emergency box. Notched into the string, was a long lethal-looking arrow, with a very sharp thorn strapped to the front. At the end of the shaft sat a feather carefully imbedded into the wood. On the floor around his feet, were a whole bunch of them, all exactly the same. And behind him, leaning against the wall were three spears, similarly made.
‘Pork chops for dinner tonight. Do we want to go out and hunt, eat properly for once?’
The laughter died on his lips as to the surprise of both boys, Julia stood up and walked to the wall where the spears stood. With the skill of a hunter she flicked the spear into the air, caught it with practiced dexterity and feinted at an invisible object. Her eyes were cold and bare.
‘I’m going to kill whoever murdered my uncle.’ A pause. ‘And both of you are going to help me.’
The statement sent chills down Tom and Martin’s spines, as they both realised beyond rational doubt that she meant every word.
‘Take it easy Julia, we know you’re upset, but there’s no need to go doing anything rash.’ Tom admired Martin’s brave statement. ‘We don’t even know if whoever did this is on the island.’
‘You’ve no idea. Roger was like a father to me, I cherished every visit he made. He was murdered by professionals, the lead knife proves that. And whoever they are, they will pay the price. I know they’re on the island; it’s why my uncle was on the ship. He was investigating a personal matter concerning some terrorist called Mathew Smith. These are bad people and I’m sure they are planning something really seriously bad. The diary is basically written in code but that’s what I’ve managed to gather from it.’
Confusion misted the minds of Tom and Martin, what on earth was she going on about a lead knife and terrorists. And who was this ruthless person, who’d replaced Julia.
‘Wait, you’re trying to tell us you want to take revenge for your uncle’s death on terrorists. Are you nuts?’ Martin’s voice was aggressively loud.
‘Do you have a problem with that?’ Her question was nails on a chalk board.
‘I have a slight concern about our life expectancy which is going to drastically plummet if you go through with this.’
Before she could reply, Tom intervened sensing the rising tension.
‘It might not be such a bad idea, Martin. Your parents might be held captive there.’ Martin shot daggers at Tom, he realised with sudden anger that he’d been played by his best friend. With that seed of hope planted he was definitely going to find these terrorists.
‘Fine.’ Martin’s voice was gruff and loaded with fury at his best friend’s turn of sides.
‘So, who wants to go hunt this boar? It can be a warm up,’ Tom asked innocently, he thought Julia’s fierce frown made her look kind of cute, had it not been for the steely glint in her eyes, Tom would probably have laughed.
Martin was unsure what was going on, but he saw his opportunity and quickly jumped up.
‘Let’s go, there’s enough light to hunt for a good two hours before it gets too dark.’ He wanted to take his anger out on something.
The three were spread out forming a triangle between themselves. Martin, his bow at the ready, an arrow already knocked, was nosing around the underbrush with his feet. Julia and Tom were doing the same, each holding a long spear that tapered to a thorny end. It was pure luck that Tom even saw it. A tiny path trampled its way through the undergrowth and led off into denser jungle.
‘I’ve found our pig, well its water path at least,’ Tom’s voice rang out confidently, excitement rising at the idea of a hunt.
Instantly both Martin and Julia were at his side peering at the little path. Martin started following it without even acknowledging Tom’s find. As Julia followed him she flashed a quiet smile at him and squeezed his hand in thanks. Warmth blossomed in his chest and his stomach did somersaults. This is getting out of hand, he thought angrily and Tom quickly pulled away from her.
At his touch, electricity flowed through Julia, the shock so real and personal she suddenly knew with a certainty what was happening. She’d speculated and reasoned over the past few days without any form of answer coming to mind. This though, it revitalised her, made all her sorrow fade away. She’d remembered this from her uncle, when she’d asked him about the small rose tattoo he had in the corner between his thumb and forefinger and the story he’d told her about a woman he’d referred to as “Rosy.” The memory of her uncle didn’t inspire sadness anymore, only a slight loneliness, but she now knew how to fix that. She felt liberated from invisible chains that had imprisoned her emotions. Before she could explore the thoughts any further though, Tom jerked away from her touch angrily, a mixture of emotions playing across his face before it was replaced by an unreadable mask. Does he know, she wondered. Or does he not have a clue as to what is happening to him. She was about to ask when she made the impulsive decision to wait and see, and followed Martin along the boar’s trail.
It was getting darker by the minute when Martin finally held up his fist in a stop motion. They were in a vast clearing with tall grass growing lusciously all over the place and Julia could already hear the squealing and grunting. There seemed to be more than one of the things in this little den of theirs. Stealthily they all crept up, weapons at the ready. Into view came a group of small piglets struggling in a heap, looking completely lost without their mother. Stunned the three glanced at each other, not knowing what to do. A hesitation that was normal amongst humans settled in. Killi
ng in cold blood was so much harder than it looked on T.V.
‘Well this is the moment of truth I guess,’ Martin had lost all his confidence, yet he set his strong jaw with sudden determination, burying any innocence behind his dark eyes. He glanced quickly at Julia then at Tom. When his eyes made contact with Tom, he paused before striking. Uncertainty gripped him suddenly. Tom had a strange look in his green eyes, which were glowing brightly in the dusk. His head cocked to one side he seemed to be listening. Then Martin and Julia heard it to. A loud bellow, followed by grunting could be heard coming from two different directions. The bushes moved in rapid succession, then, the movement could be made out in the grass, as something barrelled through it in anger.
‘Dinner,’ laughed Tom with a wicked grin that stretched across his face. Julia was looking at Tom with a mixture of fear and wonder, oblivious to the impending attack of the boars. Martin sprinted over to the nearest tree swinging himself up to a safe height, making sure that the tree branch he was sitting on was comfortable. He was waiting for one of the boars to come into sight, but was distracted by his friend’s lack of movement.
‘Get into a tree, are you nuts? Get away. Now!’ Julia seemed to wake out of her trance and rapidly clambered up the same tree Martin was in. Instead of readying her spear she watched Tom with unabashed fascination.
‘Julia… what is wrong with Tom, why isn’t he moving? You call him and get him out of the way; he’s going to bloody die.’ His bravado at hunting boars was gone; a scared boy was left behind as his plan was falling to bits in front of his eyes.
‘No don’t go anywhere near him Martin. I think it could be dangerous. For you.’
‘What do you mean?’ Martin yelled indignantly. ‘What in the blue moon is going on here Julia?’
‘Just watch,’ Julia’s voice was dismissive; she was too mesmerized by Tom to say anything else.
Then the boars burst into the clearing, about to shred Tom to pieces.
‘Oh tits, he’s dead.’ Martin desperately fired an arrow at one boar, its arc graceful and deadly. It struck the one boar on the tusk and bounced off harmlessly. Before Martin could fire another arrow, his jaw dropped at what he saw before his eyes.
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