Life in the Blood Traders: Survival Islands.
Chapter 1.
I'd heard the call to come to the hunting party, yet I ignored it. This made several people angry with me, as they tried to get me on my feet, saying I had better not expect any hand outs from anyone tonight.
I told them to fuck off, and that I didn't really care If I went without a meal. I knew the rules better than anyone. I was the one who helped set them when we all got here.
The rules were, you didn't take shit that you didn't earn, and I didn't exactly feel like fighting with the rest of my group over every little bit of food.
When we got any kind of kill, it was crazy. Sure, we all got a little share of it, yet it was hardly a meal. You could get extra by wagering it in a fighting tournament. Yet they were so savage, we'd already lost about two people because of it.
The idea of the tournament wasn't any of ours, it having been taught to us by the original group that lived here.
See, we belonged to group of traders, known as the Blood Traders, and we were the future security force of the group.
At the age of 5, we were brought to this island to prove we had what it took to be its protectors, where we were to remain until we all reached age of 14, only to be brought back to start more advanced training..
I was 10 now, and had managed to survive all these years with just my sister, who pretty much lead the whole group.
And that wasn't necessarily a good thing. If it were up to me, we'd all be working together like an actual group, yet her way of leading was everyone for themselves. We could still function as a group though, just not very well.
Though that really wasn't our fault. To ensure we survived and had the knowledge to survive, our time on the island started when the last group had turn 10. They taught us how to fight and how to survive, though not how to work together as they hadn't figured that out either, figuring that looking out for only ones self was superior to the idea of strength in numbers.
Pretty soon we'd get a new group of recruits to train ourselves, and I hoped when it was our time that we could be better than the people that trained us. But looking at the savage little warband of ours I really doubted it.
What finally brought me out of my thoughts was when I heard the battle cries of the hunting party as they chased after some poor creature.
Trying to ignore it, I got up to travel further down the shore, trying to ignore them all.
They could have whatever food I would gave gotten if I had actually done anything this week. But if I actually wanted something than I'd just go find something myself, yet I'd have to give up a portion of it to the storage, since whatever we killed we got more than enough for a meal than we usually would by doing anything else
We were supposed to share everything we had, yet I only gave the food I had to the weakest of our group, while fighting off any others. I'd give up some for the groups storage but kept enough for me and any injured members, since I tended to anyone that came to me needing help.
Was that a good thing to do? No. Not really. Only a few people ever returned the favor.
Yet the strongest were the ones winning food, while others were left with nothing. So while it wasn't how the group acted with each other, I did what I could. And I did it for those that couldn't defend themselves.
My name is Jay. And I'm a Blood Trader security officer in training.
The Blood Traders are a group I've mentioned before in my other story. The Stranger. So yes, these two stories will connect eventully.
S.W.38 Signing off.