Chapter 2
Sasha and the Island of Minos
This is really gritty water, thought Simon. He opened his eyes, but closed them as they stung. Simon waved his arms to wade to the surface, but there was no water to swim through. He could breathe. Simon forced his head up. Trees of all different kinds lined the horizon. He had been laying face down on a sandy shore. There were no signs of life. The passengers were all surely dead… Lucy. Simon's eyes burned with tears.
"No," he steadied himself. "Weeping won't bring them back."
Simon stood. He sprinted off the shore and snapped a foot long branch off of a large redwood tree. He continued to collect small twigs until he decided he had enough to do a bit of weaving. With some newfound skill of weaving, Simon was able to patch sticks together so that they formed the relative shape of the head of an axe. It looked as if it would break as easily as Simon's arm if he tried to cut a tree down with it. Simon attached more and more sticks and stuck them to his woven creation. He took some extra twigs and morphed them until they could pass as wooden construction nails and attached the foot long stick to the head of the axe. Simon had a new tool to assist him now. He wiped the sweat off of his brow, realizing what he must do next.
CLUNK. A dent an inch deep appeared in the elder tree nearest Simon.
CLUNK. Half an inch this time, and Simon's axe was already dulling.
CLUNK. Still deeper Simon's axe penetrated the tree, sapping much strength and endurance from him.
CLUNK. The tree was now half cut, but the axe was getting ever less sharp.
It seemed to go on forever. Finally, the tree began to topple. Simon dove away from the tree to avoid any injuries. In spite of his precautious actions, a lengthy branch cut Simon deep. Swearing quietly, Simon whittled at the fallen tree to make it more refined and more usable. Simon saw a large mountain with a massive overhanging bridge, seemingly, connecting it to another mountain. Simon quickly decided that should he shelter somewhere, it should be adjacent to the overhang. He stuck his index finger into his mouth, and then pulled it out.
"An eastern wind," Simon told himself. Simon then cut the fallen tree into friendly pieces, and then began to stack them in a small, two by two pattern, leaving four feet of space for Simon to move in the small shelter he planned to build.
It was sunset, and it was beginning to freeze. Simon's teeth chattered. He knew he would die if he stayed out all night. Yet he had no roof for his "house." Simon took his wooden axe and swung at another tree, again and again, until –
CRACK. Simon pulled the stick out of the tree, but nothing else. The axe's head had severed itself completely from the handle. Simon groaned, then reattached it with new wooden nails, then swung until his hands were going to blister, and he felt the cold numbness biting deeper and deeper into his skin.
The sun had fallen, and so had large chunks of flint from the mountain, which struck Simon's head. They triggered a thought process in his head. After nailing down his roof with dead fingers, Simon carefully gathered flint and sticks he had left over. Simon rubbed them together rapidly, the stick hitting his null hands, greatly magnifying the pain. Through gritted teeth, Simon gasped audibly as smoke finally rose from the stick's tip.
Simon haphazardly tossed stones on the ground to form a ring. He threw sticks down, and then placed the smoking twig under the pile. After many silent minutes, there was a massive chain reaction, and all of the branches were engulfed in the scarlet fire.
It was pitch black now, and all that Simon could see was the bright, dancing flames he had produced. Simon pulled two sticks from the ground along with some refined planks of wood. He shaped the wood with his pocketknife and stabbed nails through the fat sticks.
The wooden sword he just crafted seemed so poorly made that it could just as easily resist fire as it could actually hurt anything. Simon laid the tools down on the ground resentfully, and then headed to retire to his small cabin.
Simon hadn't expected for the ground to seemingly move under his feet. There was a horrifying yell of a man, and Simon was thrown to the ground. He scrambled to his feet then reached for something to defend himself with. Simon found himself gripping his wooden axe defensively, spinning on the spot. There was a soft moan, and Simon spun again to see the most terrifying thing he could imagine.
There was a man, but he didn't seem… human. He was dark green and frothing at the mouth. Simon was stunned at first, and then was petrified with fear as he realized the creature was a zombie. With its green arms outstretched, its deep, endless black eyes and its torn jeans, Simon was very intimidated.
Unsure as to what he could do, Simon began backing away slowly. As if Simon were his only target, the zombie started following in his footsteps. The zombie made a strange and audible click, and then he heard some vibrating string noise. The campfire roared and sparked. Simon stepped around the fire cautiously before glancing into it. An arrow blazed and blackened in it, although Simon had no recollection of placing it there in during this dreadfully difficult day. The same two noises repeated, and arrows grazed his face and sides. The ugly zombie continued to advance on Simon, so Simon turned and began to flee. It was finally apparent then that the arrows were not at the zombie's command, rather something just as, if not more, horrifying.
Solely bone, a sickly gray skeleton was clasping a bow, shooting the arrows…
Simon gripped the axe he had only just remembered weakly, and then heaved it with all of his might at the reanimated bones. The weak axe spun as it soared from Simon's hands to the middle of the skeleton's head and shoulders. There was a sickening crunch as the axe cut through the skeleton's pale neck bone. The severed, useless head fell to the ground and rolled to Simon's feet. He stared at it, and it seemed to stare back. The skeleton's body crumpled, then Simon felt something tackle him to the ground. Someone - or something – had caught him off guard. Still pinned down, Simon flipped over to see what it was.
The horrific zombie's features were thrown into greater relief as Simon saw when they were nose to nose. Simon yelled as the acrid stench of blood flooded his nostrils, and the undead man was getting closer to his neck, and his strength was too much… someone was screaming again, a woman this time, and it sounded like the last Simon would ever hear would be an anonymous woman screaming in his ear…
There was blood all down Simon's shirt. The zombie had bitten him, surely? The zombie was instead lying across Simon's middle. There was a dull clunk; a sharp pain in his forehead, and a low moan escaped Simon as everything went dark.
Simon awoke lying across warm grass, and a cool breeze blew over him. The perfect conditions made him unable to think about moving. He became conscious that someone had taken his shirt. Convinced of his total solitude, however, this did not concern him, though it did slightly intrigue him.
"You're awake," a soft voice emanated from nowhere. Simon sat up and looked for the person who had spoken. His eyes fell upon a beautiful woman.
Besides her strands of dirty blonde hair that reached down to her shoulders, she wore a dimpled smile that showed nothing but happiness. He blue eyes shone in the perfectly angled sun that seemed to bounce off of her tan skin.
"Erm…" Her beauty stunned Simon. He wondered what he could've said.
"I'm sorry about that." said the woman. Simon's eyes feasted upon her, but he couldn't tell what his own face expression was at the moment.
"What's your name?" Simon blurted out.
"Sasha," she replied coolly. "And yours?" Simon hesitated, then said,
"Simon," he paused. "Simon Heim." He smiled. Sasha smiled back, and then tossed his pale blue t-shirt at him. Simon looked at it blankly, and then remembered that Sasha was looking at his bare chest. He hastily shoved the shirt over his head. There were no more bloodstains from the zombie, so he assumed Sasha must have washed it. The zombie…
"Hey!" exclaimed Simon. "What happened last night, with the monsters?"
"Nothing," replied Sasha casually. "You've been out for two days."
"What?" Simon yelled. He paused, calming himself down. "Then… what happened that night? I should have died!"
"Well, I take it that you're not upset." Sasha said. She reached into the pocket of her blue jeans and pulled out a pocketknife. Simon raised his hands defensively.
"No!" He began backing away. Sasha laughed and pocketed the blade.
"I was just kidding," she said. Simon frowned.
"Why didn't you just leave me for dead?"
"Because I thought I knew you!" Sasha belted unexpectedly. Simon gazed at her again. Through numb lips, he asked,
"Why?" Sasha herself hesitated.
"You just… looked familiar." Then Simon had a thought that struck him like a mallet.
"I – I've seen you before, too!" Simon thought way back to the S.S Agek, before the massive storm had hit. The dream, the dream…
She was the woman who had said to give Lucy his bedroom and TV in the awfully obscure dream. They were on the small island they dreamed of, surely, but there was still someone missing from the dream. Lucy had called him –
"James!" cried out Simon. "Where is he?" Sasha looked slightly abashed.
"Dead," she said softly. "Killed, by monsters."
"Oh," Simon interjected awkwardly. "I'm so sorry…" They stared at each other. Finally, Simon broke the mourning silence by saying,
"Where exactly are we?"
"This?" replied Sasha. "This is the Island of Minos. It is a cursed island."
"Funnily enough," said Simon. "I've figured that out for myself." Sasha laughed, and Simon laughed with her.
"Come with me, I've got a place here, I've been stranded here for two years. I've built a stronghold –" Sasha started.
"Two years?" Simon burst out.
"Yes, two years," Sasha said matter-of-factly. "In this time I've built a stronghold, as I was saying, would you care to come with me?"
"Of course!" replied Simon happily.
"This way."
Sasha led him to another oddly formed mountain, and Simon saw a professional-looking door. Sasha flung open the door.
"Here we are!"
