He stepped off of the boat and the sun met his eyes, causing him to squint. He was always prone to sun blindedness. He looked around at the crowd. Of course, it was going wild and calling the names of its loved ones.
"Sam! Eric!" a woman screamed, two twin girls running to meet their brothers. He thought: maybe twins run in their family? They looked around, waiting for directions. They always waited and never took charge. It was something he simply couldn't understand. Constantly waiting and never being the leader. He liked to be the lead—
"Ralph! Attention, front AND center!" He shuddered at the name, tear forming in his blue eyes as the memories returned, flowing through his mind's eye with such vivid malice. He longed to apologize, to right his wrongs. A new hatred replaced his disdain for Ralph. It was a dislike for Ralph's cold, tyrannical father. Navy man or not, how couldn't he see the pain in his son's eyes? He needed an embrace. He needed love, not a dictator.
"Jack!" his name cut through the air, but from where? He still couldn't see. Maybe this is how Piggy felt after they'd stolen his glasses. Then he saw that shock of red hair belonging to none other than his mother. She grabbed him and sobbed hysterically. Faces turned to them, a spectacle. Those faces. He saw their cuts. He saw their bruises. He saw their shame. He saw their guilt. Back here in civilization they remembered how they were supposed to behave. They remembered what wasn't okay. What they'd done. He suffocated as the guilt strangled him, starving his lungs of oxygen and making him dizzy. He swayed and fainted.
Suddenly he was back on the Island, screaming in his warpaint and watching the thicket burn. Hideous laughter filled his throat, evolving into a snarl that echoed through to forest.
"FORM A LINE!" he growled, madness overtaking his features. His boys, like a murder of crows, swayed in the heat, congregating and waiting. This was the hunt that would define him as chief! Him!
Suddenly, with a screams and a shock of golden human hair, Ralph shot out of the bush. He broke the line, red rover. The pack broke, the murder chasing its prey. It closed in, and he heard screaming, though Ralph ran silent.