Prologue – Bad Smell
They met under cover of darkness. The vessel, a black-market ship, was offloading the cargo. Included amongst those items of interest were a number of exotic fauna. The last item from the vessel was a small crate with a number of eggs inside. "These," stated the Japanese man in charge, "special. Reptile. Buyer did not say what kind."
"Huh," was all the driver with tattoos at various spots on his body had to say. He was wiry and sported an appearance you might associate with a weasel. A bandana resembling the American flag was tied on his head covering his scalp, while a few silver earrings dotted his left ear. His nose made you think of a vulture's beak for some reason. "Well, if they happen to hatch by any chance, 'll send you a cigar." With that he picked up the crate from the man and placed it in the back of the van with the birds and a monkey. "Cheers," he called back with a wave before slamming the door.
The road was unlit but he was traveling on land not settled or touched by man yet. There were rumors that some businesses were looking to this place each for their own reasons. 'Course they were just rumors. This place was not worth anything really, come on; so, it was good for an illegal meeting place. "Way on down south," sang the weasel man with the radio. "Way on down south in London town." He stopped on the last note and sniffed. Whew, what a stench. It was filling the van whatever it was. Finally, despite the windows having been down for the whole drive, it became unbearable. The man stopped and pulled open the back doors. The stink hit him like a wave. "Ugh," he groaned reaching in and looking around.
The moment he found the crate of eggs his eyes watered. Yep, it was them alright. He pulled them out with disgust. Rotten. He carried the crate to the side of the path and simply let it drop. The crate shattered and the eggs quickly caught an incline rolling off into the tall grass and bushes. He sniffed his hands fearfully. Thankfully, just a small hint of the smell clung and it seemed to be fading quickly. He got back into the van and simply left. A bad purchase. It wasn't worth considering about. He would simply tell the client that they unfortunately had rotted on the way. Besides it was the truth wasn't it? After all, eggs stunk only when they were dead.
Nineteen summers later, the island had changed, but the spot where the eggs had been… was empty.