"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity." E. A. Poe

Bangkok

11:56 pm

Three Marines on leave and three American civilians enter a club looking for a little fun. They get a little fucked up. They meet a DJ who says he knows a place 'where anything can happen'. The seven tourists agree, eagerly.

2:13 am

They find a man who will take them to an island nearby, but no closer. They plan to swim the rest of the way.

6:30 am

Their voyage begins.

8: 06 am

They make it to the smaller island and begin to swim.

Rook Island

9:56 am

Safely on the beach, the group collectively collapses. "FUCK. We almost didn't make it. Whose fuckin' idea was that?" Said the eldest man, Carl, while gasping for air. He kicked the leg of the youngest, Drew, but Drew could only smile and pant as he lay on his back. "That was a warm up, civie. Right Marines?" He turned his head to his three comrades who were similarly exhausted. They all bellowed, "OOH-RAH," and got up.

Carl and Drew had been brothers since birth, but couldn't be more different. While Carl was content with underachieving, his little brother had bigger plans for himself. The only reason Drew was here instead of back on base making himself useful is because he was forced to take leave. Worked too hard. So he brought a few friends to vacation in the South-eastern hemisphere for some adventure and relaxation.

There was Keoni, his childhood friend, and Keoni's date Angela. Keoni was born in Hawaii but had moved to California when he was little. He met Drew when he tried to steal Keoni's pencil case. Angela, his date, had only been around for a few months, but Drew didn't like the girl his childhood friend had chosen. They often joked it was because he was jealous. Carl was allowed to bring one friend, so he brought Trey. Of all people. Finally, Drew and Keoni invited the only person who had come close to matching their intense friendship, Ruth. They met her in BCT and ever since the three of them had been inseparable.

They also felt a little bad for Ruth because she'd just come back from a tour in Afghanistan with night terrors. Ruth had seen her battle-buddy get IED'd, take the brunt of the explosion, and got away with only a few scars...

"The Doc said I was lucky..."

Was all Ruth said for three weeks. PTSD. It was hard for her to do anything but work.

That had been six months ago, and Ruth was all set for her second tour already. Drew managed to convince her to come along. So far it was okay. Ruth was smiling. It was like nothing had happened.


Drew and Keoni set up a bonfire by the shore and watched Angela collect seashells. Carl and Trey lit up. Ruth pulled out of the bag she'd carried here another bag made of plastic and arduously set to unwrapping it's contents, half of their electronics. The other half was with Drew. She pulled out Carl's camcorder. "Jesus, what a relic." She laughed, showing Keoni who whooped in surprise, "What the hell is that a dinosaur?" Ruth laughed and, out of curiosity, flipped open the screen. She found the power button after a brief search and laughed when the first thing she saw was Angela, from a worm's eye view, at the club. Keoni snatched the camcorder away, "AYE!"

Carl smirked. Keoni got over it pretty quick when he pressed play on a video and saw how all of them were dancing. He started to cackle. Everyone huddled around for a better view.

From left to right, Carl was doing something with his arms and neck that made him resemble an ostrich, while his friend Trey was awkwardly grinding on a larger girl and conducting a drug deal at the same moment. Ruth had killed one bottle of tequila and had smoked and popped her way to a state of ecstasy Drew called, "Ruthless". She was flirtatious, a gyrating machine, there was no stopping her. Drew was nearby, watching, leaning against the bar for support, kicking his feet every now and then like a river-dancer. Keoni laughed loudly at this, it was Drew's signature "fucked up" dance. Then finally, Keoni and Angela basically butt-fucking on the dance floor. The man holding the camera made a cameo, smiling a four tooth smile and jogging halfway out the door before the video caught him being apprehended by Trey and Carl.

Everyone was in stitches. For a moment, the laughter was so loud they couldn't even hear the shouting.

BANG!

Carl went face first into the fire, but not before spraying blood from the hole in his head all over the sand. Angela screamed, then Keoni, then Trey. Drew and Ruth could only gawp.


There was a whizzing sound that went past Ruth's head and hit the water far away. Her stomach dropped. She hadn't even heard the first bullet, so could it really be? No it had to be. Carl was definitely dead. Why am I just sitting here? She thought. Alright. Okay. Move.

"GET DOWN," Ruth shouted, but there was no cover from the hail of bullets raining on them. Somehow, in the chaos, she found Drew. They clasped hands and fled to the forest with the sounds of terrified screams behind them. They felt the adrenaline in their veins. It was uncomfortably similar to combat.

They didn't stop running until both of them felt like they were going to puke, and they might have too.

Drew put his hand against a tree and let himself sag. Ruth slid down to the ground and sat there.

"Oh god... I saw Angela... s-she got shot. Her shoulder was so FUCKED up. I-it's not like she was dead. She was just so fucked. I-I tried to pull her with me b-but ... she slipped. She fucking slipped. I... Keoni...Carl...Oh fuck... Oh my fucking god Carl..." Drew babbled, tears burst from his eyes. "CARL," he screamed, a primal scream, like an animal.

Ruth was externally more calm, but internally had relieved Afghanistan a thousand times in the last minute. She stared into the distance. They were quiet for a moment then, after Drew choked back his sobs. The jungle heat made the animals sing. They could hear everything from birds to boars. Finally, after it felt like it'd been several moments, Drew crawled over to Ruth. He pulled her out of her stiff position, like a Gumby doll, and kissed her softly.

"Just in case we die...I really fuckin' like you Ruth..." He whispered on her lips. Ruth came to after he held her in his arms for a while and buried her face in his chest.


They'd fallen asleep, but it was a fitful sleep. Ruth woke up with a jolt because she could hear something. Or the lack of it. It dug at her like nails in her heart to hear the jungle suddenly so quiet. "Get up." She pushed his chest. He reluctantly opened his eyes, clearly hoping it had all been a bad trip. No doubt that they both were suffering from the worst hangover in their short lives, but that was clearly the least of their troubles.

"There's nothing there," Drew began to say, seeing that Ruth was on edge. He was wrong.

In a circle, like a movie, were at least half a dozen men in red shirts holding machetes and assault rifles. They didn't look friendly. Drew reached Ruth slowly and felt his heart rise to his throat when he felt how rigid she was.

"Good horse," Said a man's voice. It was commanding, chilling to hear. Through the circle came a man, maybe in his late twenties, mohawk, huge scar on his head, riding on the back of a bent over Trey. There was a bridle in Trey's mouth and a saddle on his back. The man riding on his back paused for a painfully long moment, then dismounted. His eyes seemed more focused on Ruth than Drew.

"What are you looking at, chica?" He sauntered over, giving Drew enough time to see the look on Ruth's face. There was nothing in her eyes but anger. Ruthless anger. Drew had no idea what was going to happen, but he drew the conclusion that their life expectancy wasn't very long. He took Ruth's hand. It was ice cold.

"Not a talker. I like that. Mysterious." This is when the man noticed their hands clasped. He smirked. He made a glance at his men and then nodded to Drew. They raised their weapons and Drew's eyes shut tight.

"NO!" Bellowed the man. Drew opened his eyes. "When I nod I don't mean kill I mean take him away, FUCKING ASSHOLES. WE WE WANT THEM ALIVE. THEY'RE MONEY. I LIKE MONEY. DON'T SHOOT MY MONEY. Take him and put hi on his fucking knees so he can watch while I make love to his girl."

Drew was swarmed by hands and it didn't take much effort for them to pull him away, despite his protests. Six men held him in place while the man circled around Ruth like a shark. Ruth had remained like a statue this entire time. The man with the mohawk started by standing directly behind her, planting one foot between hers. He pulled the hair off of her neck and planted small, loving kisses from her shoulder up to her ear. He whispered, "You're mine now."

Next, while looking at Drew, he cupped her ass and slid his hand between her legs, feeling her through her pants. "Already wet?" He smirked. The man circled around and cupped her chin. "Pretty face, ugly scars." He pulled her close to him and lifted her mouth to his by cupping her ass again. He seemed to get a little too into it for a moment, his hands squeezing and lifting her higher.

SHINK!

The smooth sound of a switchblade sliding out of it's sheath interrupted the semi-silence. The man made a soft choking sound in his throat. Ruth had the blade firmly pressed against his abdomen, threatening to pierce him with the slightest movement. There was no way to pull the knife away like this, and Ruth knew that. The look in her eyes... The man stared into them.

"RUTH!" Drew blurted.

The man looked over and broke into a goofy smile, "RUTH? Baby Ruth?" He exploded into laughter that nearly cost him his life as the blade pressed harder. He turned to Ruth and looked between then, "Oh no, Ruth, I know your name but you don't know mine. This situation is very informal. I feel like you should know my name if you're gonna kill me. You can call me Vaas."