The Most Dangerous Game-Epilogue
Jake Miller
Rainsford's instincts jolted him out of bed as he heard a noise. He looked around the unfamiliar room in confusion as he tried to find the source of the noise. Only his skilled eyes that saw every little detail he gained as a skilled hunter and tracker allowed him to spot the tiny mouse scurrying across the floor. He relaxed the muscles he didn't remember tensing as he looked around the room he was in. It obviously belonged to a very wealthy man-he could tell as the room didn't have a speck of dust in it-from the way the high-class canopy bed looked. He pondered for a moment how he got here, then like a bullet it all came rushing back.
Falling off the boat, meeting Zaroff, competing in that battle to the death-he refused to call that a game- defeating and eventually killing that madman. The sudden influx of memories and the fatigue of the last couple of days made him fall back on the bed. He laid there thinking about what to do now, a few more minutes of rest couldn't hurt, could it? As he drifted into sleep one final thought rang through his head.
God, I need a smoke.
Rainsford huffed as he lifted a log onto the pile. Taking a break after making a giant bonfire for several hours, he looked into the sky, trying to determine how much time he had left. If someone came to this island right now they would think him a lunatic, Why was he making a fire when he had a perfectly good boat to get off the island?
After he woke up from his impromptu nap he remembered the sloop Zaroff mentioned he had if he won. It was a tiny little boat- only enough room for himself and a few days worth of provisions. He had started gathering supplies and loading them in the boat-if it could be called that-when he felt the air pressure drop. Fast. He estimated he had about 10 hours before the storm hit. He glanced at the leaves on the trees. The wind was blowing from the island he needed to go to. The storm was coming towards him. With no tailwind-and a lot of rowing-it would take more trouble than it was worth to try to brave the storm, he looked at the boat again and decided we would rather not test his luck on that tiny little thing. So all he could do was wait for someone to come to the island. With that thought he remembered Whitney and the crew. When they realized that he was missing they would either scour the waters where they thought he lost them or-less likely- go to Rio without him. Either way the crew would be close by-seeing it took about one day to get to Rio from where he fell. So he decided to make a fire so Whitney and the rest could find him.
He snapped out of his thoughts when a breeze blew by, reminding him of what he was doing. With a sigh he went back to work.
The wind was blowing hard now, and he could hear thunder. The storm arrived faster than he thought. He cursed and scrambled to find something he could use to light the fire. A sudden flash illuminated his vision as he he heard a deafening crack. Lightning! He realized. Rainsford opened his eyes and saw a ignited tree split in half. Unexpected, but exactly what he needed. Grabbing a branch, he lit it and threw it on the fire.
The wind was really blowing hard now, and it was raining. Trying to keep the fire lit took more work than expected. Looking in the distance he saw a figure, a boat he realized, and a familiar one at that. As the boat drew closer rainsford couldn't help but think;
Note to self: keep pipe away from the railing at all cost.