Chapter 2

She awoke to the sound of waves breaking on the rocks. There was a slow ache at the base of her skull and she felt subdued. It seemed as if a great chasm separated her from wakefulness. She was disconnected from her limbs. It took some concentration, but she was finally able to move her hand to her belly. She hoped to feel the baby moving. Perhaps if she could feel the baby move, her consciousness could surface and get her across the abyss.

There was no alarm at the lack of movement, but it made her realize that she really had no idea what time it was. She had noticed the baby had fallen into a sleep pattern. The baby must be sleeping, she thought.

The sound of a distant seagull changed her course of thought. She tried to think back to the last thing she remembered. Her mind zeroed in on the strange sound she had heard just before . . . before what? Where was she at the time? Confusion fogged her mind. She recalled being uneasy and a strong feeling of dread. She involuntarily shuddered at a dark incursion of terror upon her memories.

Now it seemed as if she were there again. It was as if she were hearing it now. The sound of tearing metal in her mind was being completely overshadowed and replaced by the other sound that night. The lucidity of the moment was frightening. She became aware that the sound was being joined by a mechanical clunking noise. Then a loud swishing coupled with a growing rumble beneath her.

Her eyes flew open and she stumbled to her feet. Her senses came about her in a rush as her fight or flight response jump-started with adrenaline. She became immediately aware of her surroundings. A white beach was beneath her feet. A wall of jungle stood before her. Her eyes darted toward the direction of the sounds. Trees were being tossed about fifty meters from the edge of the sand, giving the impression of a large something moving past. Was it aware of her there on the beach? Finally, her breath caught up to her racing heart. As she stood there, she walked a fine line between terror and exhilaration.

The behemoth moved off at a tangent from the beach and Danielle's breath finally caught up to her racing heart. She caught movement from the corner of her eye. Her gaze shot to the right. It was Brennan. She almost laughed. He stood with his mouth gaping open, staring in the direction of the retreating thing. She had never seen fear in his eyes before. His eyes were so often void of any emotion that Danielle found herself staring at him.

He quickly buried his anxiety. "Glad you are okay, we were a little worried about you after the wreck."

The full memory of the storm and the pitch-black nightmare that resulted came back to her. She felt some relief that Brennan was speaking of 'we'. But where was everybody? He could tell the question before she could ask it. "Where are the others?"

"The ship hit some rocks that were just below the surface. You were unconscious. Rob and Monty somehow were able to get you to the beach. Me, Girard and René were barely able to abandon ship with all the wind and waves slamming into us. In the morning, the tide was far enough out that Robert decided to scavenge what could be saved from the ship before it became a loss." Brennan gestured out toward the ship. "Robert asked me to stay here with you to, er, protect you."

Danielle squinted out across the rocky tide pools to where the ship sat precariously. She could make out two people on the deck struggling with something that looked like a mattress. She didn't know what to feel. It was hard for her to tell if the tear that rolled down her cheek was from relief or despair.

The pounding of the waves against the rocks was relentless. Robert straightened up and surveyed the scene. The bow of the ship was lodged on the black rocks and it sat at a precarious angle. The tide had started to come in and now the stern was bobbing up and down with each wave. He could hear grinding as the hull of the ship scraped on the rock in the ebb and flow of the ocean. Looking across the inlet toward the shore he could see Danielle watching him. He waved and got a wave in return.

The inlet was relatively round and the ship sat equidistant between the headlands on each side. Their ship was about 150 meters from the sand and the tidal zone between consisted of slippery, algae covered rocks. It appeared to be relatively flat, but Robert knew better. They had made many treacherous crossing to salvage as many supplies as they could manage.

This would be the final trip. They were working against the tide now. If they did not get back to the beach quickly enough, they could be smashed against the rocks and drown. Robert felt lucky that they were able to salvage anything. When they had hit the rocks the night before, they had caught the tide on its way out. By the time the sun came up, so had the tide. Robert had figured that would be the last they would see of their ship. He could visualize it breaking loose and sinking just out of their reach.

When the tide started out again and the ship was still there, he organized Montand, Girard, and René to cross the foreshore with him and salvage what they could. Danielle had still been unconscious and so he had left Brennan there to keep watch over her. He had hated to leave her, but he felt it was imperative to salvage as much as possible while they could.

"We better get going!" Robert's thoughts were interrupted by Montand calling to him from the rocks below. Robert hefted the pack onto his back and made his way down to where Montand stood. It was slow going. The seemingly flat field of slippery rocks was actually a series of ridges laid out like corrugated cardboard with deep water-filled pools between.

Most of the pools were narrow enough that they could jump across. For the wider ones, it was prudent to walk along the ridge laterally until a suitable crossing point was found. As the tide came in, it became more and more difficult to traverse the expanse.

They finally made it to the beach with Robert bringing up the rear. He dropped his pack next to the assortment of items they had collected in the sand. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, "Alright men, let's get an inventory of what we were able to salvage." Robert walked toward Danielle as Montand took the cue and started barking orders to the men.

Danielle embraced him and buried her head against his shoulder. Robert closed his eyes and savored the moment. He had no words, he just held her. After several moments she pulled away a bit and looked piercingly into his eyes. The fear was completely gone from them now. It was replaced by a hard determination. "What is your plan?"

"Survive."

The flames licked at the inky blackness of the night. The flickering fire reflected in Brennan's eyes as he stared intently at the campfire. Beyond the crackling of the embers sat Robert and Danielle. He watched them in his peripheral vision. It was sickening to see him fawn over her. She wouldn't stay with him for long. It was plain that she would soon grow weary of his constant nursemaiding. He was a fool. But patience would offer its reward. There are many events in the womb of time, which will be delivered, he thought as he allowed himself an inward smile.

To his left, Montand lay snoring. He was an ignorant brute. A mere simpleton with little to do with his time but verbally spar with Robert over every infinitesimal thing. An ox that strained against the laborer's yoke. All sinews and muscle struggling against a mass of witlessness.

On his right were René and Girard engaged in their usual prattling. Girard was a grease monkey – good with his hands but short of any conventional sense. It was easy to get him windmilling. His excitement for the mundane was saddening, really. He was like a child. It was understandable that he was quite mad after the tragic accident with his wife. He had seemed like a different person to Brennan ever since.

René on the other hand was an egotistical baboon. It was obvious to Brennan that he spoke just to hear his own pompous voice. He would be the first one to die on this island. Brennan was sure of that. Oh, they were all going to die, but René was weak. He thought one-dimensionally. That would get them all in trouble.

They have gotten themselves in quite a predicament, Brennan mused. Robert is in over his head. Robert had decided that they would sleep on the beach that night and then find a safe place to make a temporary shelter further in the woods. Their best hope, Robert had said was to find the radio tower that brought them there. That would be their best bet for rescue. Brennan was not as optimistic; not with that thing out there in the jungle. Robert, the fearless leader, marching them right into the grasp of the creature. Brennan imagined the look on his face moments before the end. Couldn't do anything right. His mind wandered as he made himself comfortable and settled down for the night.

"It's really quite simple, Girard." René was saying. "Think about it for a moment. It's reasonable that a radio tower would have a power source. If there weren't a crew manning the tower, the signal wouldn't keep going. When we find it, we will find people and when we find people, we will practically have our ticket home."

"That's all very well and good, but what do the numbers mean? Why broadcast the same short series of numbers endlessly across the ocean. There is something unusual about this place. I can feel it," Girard's voice trailed off as Brennan allowed sleep to overtake his mind.

Montand looked out across the inlet at their wrecked ship. It was morning and the sun was hanging low in the east. The ship was sitting at a precarious angle, its hull breached beyond repair. He turned his gaze to Robert, gripping his rifle. He and René were gesturing toward the jungle obviously discussing the route they should take. Roberts jaw was set. Montand recognized the look. He had seen it several years ago in Lebanon.

He remembered that morning well and would never forget the date October 23rd. He was a part of the Sixth French Parachute Infantry Regiment sent to hold the peace following a confrontation between Israeli and PLO forces. That morning had started like any other. He was exiting the barracks talking to a young officer. The next instant he was in the air with searing heat at his back and deafening noise all around him. He rolled onto his back and winced in pain. His eyes fell on what remained of his companion. He squeezed them shut and then stared heavenward. The smoke seemed to smile at him from above like some demon released from its underworld realm.

His hearing returned slowly as he got to his feet. Among the commotion, his mind focused on a voice. "Sergant-chef!" The voice commanded authority. Montand stood and tried to shut out all the other sounds. "Chief Sergeant!" The voice repeated. He turned and saw a man striding toward him full of purpose, his jaw set beneath a steely gaze. Montand realized that the man was addressing him and snapped to attention. "You appear able Chief! Come with me."

Together they tried to make order out of chaos. They organized men to search through the rubble for survivors and directed the medics to the wounded. 56 men died in the explosion that day, but Montand and his Colonel had made a difference. Amazingly they were able to liberate 8 of their brothers in arms from the prison of debris that was the barracks. Montand had learned how to come together under pressure and learned what real leadership was made of that day. As he followed Robert into the jungle, he recognized the same resolve his Colonel had demonstrated so many years ago.
"Montand."

He fell into step beside Robert. "Yes, Robert."

"I'm relying on your military experience here. I expect we will not have any trouble once we find the men manning this installation, but we should be prepared."

"That is why we have the rifles," Montand stated. Each had been armed before they set out. He gazed back at the group. René treated his rifle like a burden and carried it with contempt. Behind him, Girard had the strap of his rifle slung over his shoulders, arms resting on it as it hung across his chest. Danielle's rifle looked like it belonged in her hands. She smiled at him and he nodded back. Bringing up the rear was Brennan whose rifle hung lazily off one shoulder. He seemed to not even notice it there.

"We should build our shelter in an easily defendable location."

Montand returned his eyes to his friend. " . . . just in case," he completed Robert's sentence.

Robert placed his hand on Montand's shoulder. "I've got to go with my gut instinct. Something about this place bothers me. I'm not going to let us take any chances."

At the back of the line, Brennan increased his pace until he was next to Danielle. "Dani." Danielle turned and scrutinized him as she metered her pace. Her dark eyes interrogated him. "That thing that we saw in the jungle, the monster. We shouldn't tell them about what we saw." He gestured forward with his eyes.

She stopped suddenly and Brennan had to turn to face her. "There's no such thing as monsters," She stated.

Brennan almost stuttered. "Right." The corner of his mouth turned up into a half grin. "You are absolutely correct." Danielle started walking again and increased her pace to catch back up with the group. Brennan fell into step behind her again and smiled inwardly to himself.

Danielle noticed that Robert and Montand had stopped just inside a clearing ahead. She would be the last to admit it, but she was tired. She could stand the break, what with all the humidity and the exertion of walking with extra baby ballast. It was Robert's idea to have Danielle near the end of the line so that the others could break the trail in front of her. It was a nice gesture, but he had also assigned Brennan to protect the rear. Robert often trusted Brennan as Danielle's default bodyguard and it was really starting to get on her nerves.

The sparse conversation disappeared altogether as each member of the team saw what Robert was staring at. Danielle's curiosity beat our her desire to get the load off her feet. She pushed through the dumbfounded men and laid her eyes on the object of their amazement. There before them was a hole. It was overgrown with vegetation, but it was obviously manmade. René was the first to speak. "Clearly an abandoned construction site of some kind."

Girard piped in, "Maybe it is a relic from World War II. They could have been building a bunker to protect from a coastal invasion. The radio tower could be part of a base built by the allies to direct attacks against the Japanese."

René was up for the battle as usual. "Perhaps General MacArther himself stayed here," he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Aren't we a little far south for this to be a World War II site?"

Robert cut in before Girard could respond. "This is where we build our shelter. Let's take a few minutes to rest. Then Danielle and I will start prepping the site. Montand, you and the men will start bringing our supply cache here." Robert moved in for a closer look. The pit was about two and half meters deep, six meters wide and ten meters long. The sides, though draped at the moment with jungle tapestry, seemed to be solid. "This will do nicely."

Danielle was a little hesitant about sleeping in a hole, but it kind of made sense. It would blend in with the surrounding jungle. Shouldn't be much work to make it into a serviceable shelter in any case. The men set off to the beach. They silently dreaded the strenuous work ahead, but were grateful to be doing something to keep their mind off the situation at hand.

Robert produced a small hatchet from his pack and started the job of clearing the hole. Danielle watched as Robert worked in silence, absorbed by his task. After several moments of being ignored, she spoke up. "Robert . . ."

"My dear," Robert looked up at her and she could see his old eyes flash for an instant before they were masked again. Suddenly she felt a wave of resentment wash over her, drag her under. It was an odd feeling and she didn't know what to do with it. He was trying to be strong for her, but that wasn't what she needed right now.

"I am going to scout the area a little bit. We need a fresh water source if we are to survive here," she said.

Robert paused momentarily and then resumed chopping at the undergrowth. "I think that is a good idea," he lied. "Take a rifle just in case."

She retrieved her rifle from the tree it was leaning up against and slung it over her shoulder. "I never noticed how sexy a pregnant woman with a rifle was," he teased. His sudden levity caught her completely off guard. She stared at him unsure how to react.

"Men. Is that all you think about?" she asked. Her attempt at flippancy came off as forced. She didn't wait for an answer and made her way into the trees. There seemed to be a wall between them now. She didn't like it. She walked on lost in her thoughts. She wasn't sure how long she had been walking when she heard something that sent a chill up her spine. She stopped in her tracks and turned slowly. The trees were swaying madly behind her. It was the sound from the beach, the sound from the shipwreck. She gazed upward. The terror welling up in her eyes changed to wonder as she beheld it. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Girard walked several paces behind René back toward the beach, lost in his thoughts. This whole situation seemed like something out of a dream, which was odd since he didn't dream much anymore. Not since . . . He pressed his mouth into a thin line and pushed the thoughts to the back. That was in the past, he told himself. Those were memories from another life, a life different from the one he had been living for the past four years.

He tried focusing on the issues at hand. Robert was a good leader and he trusted him. If anyone could figure out a way for them to survive it was Robert. He glanced ahead of René to Montand swinging his machete in time to his step. Robert and Montand. Montand was like Robert's right arm. They were all safe with these men.

He thought of Danielle and her pregnancy. He knew that she could take care of herself. She was a strong woman and he considered her a friend. It hadn't always been that way. When the team was first organized, Girard had tried to avoid her. He had not been comfortable around women since before. He found himself retreating more often to his mechanical fortress. Mechanical things were his safe haven. If things broke, he could fix them. A certainty existed when he had his arms bathed in grease. At first she had been an intruder in the solitary kingdom he had built around himself. It had been an annoyance for her to always be there talking to him. But her enthusiasm and aptitude for mechanical systems provided a common ground that facilitated their friendship and he grew to feel at ease around her. It almost reminded him of . . .

He chided himself silently for letting his mind slip in that direction, but it was too late. The memory and the pain flooded unstoppably into the forefront of his mind. He was back in Grenoble, France. He had just finished doing his mid-day jog up the hill below the Bastille and was meeting his wife for lunch before class at the University. He was pursuing his graduate degree in physics and was looking forward to finishing his thesis. Élise was usually not late for their daily ritual. He looked at his watch and then glanced up to see her walking slowly toward the table he was sitting at. He stood and walked toward her. The moment stretched out toward infinity in his mind's eye. He saw her red, swollen eyes. The mascara streaming down her face. The utter look of hopelessness in her eyes. It took eons for him to close the distance between them. A tumor in her brain. It explained the headaches. It was inoperable. She had 8 months to live. As the words bored into his soul, the earth beneath him seemed to sway. His heart turned to lead in his chest and caused a pain so deep that he felt his whole world splitting apart. She didn't make it to 8 months. He never finished his thesis. Every part of his life that he could tie to his Élise became anathema. He hadn't been back to France since.

"By my calculations, I figure it will take the entire day to get all the supplies back to the hole." Thankfully, René's voice stirred him from his trance. Girard grunted in agreement and pulled himself away from the edge of despair on which he had been teetering.

René was insufferable and probably Girard's his best friend. They were complete opposites of each other. René's world was filled with verifiable facts that demanded to be measured and tested. Girard had a different idea of the universe and understood that there were real things outside of what his five senses could perceive. He had to believe that. It was the only thing that kept him sane. René was the perfect match to Girard's wit and intelligence. Their debates were epic, but their personalities complemented each other so well that they seemed almost to be different aspects of the same consciousness. In their case, two heads were better than one.

They reached the edge of the jungle and stepped out onto the beach. Their ship was still there, caught out on the rocks in the clutches of the ocean. The sea battering it at will. As a group, they turned and looked toward the jungle and up at the mountains that sat like sentinels in the interior. Their future was to be determined by what they found in there. The ship behind them was a remnant of the past. A ghostly apparition that whispered at their backs.

Robert climbed out of the hole to survey his work. There was a neat pile of greenery next to a bare wall of earth. He was tired, but the work made him feel good. It was actually more a feeling of satisfaction. He unconsciously scanned the edge of the jungle into which Danielle had disappeared. It had seemed like hours since she had been gone. I'm just being nervous for her, he told himself. He tried to push the feelings of concern out of his mind. She can handle herself.

He stood completely still and reached out to the sounds of the jungle, sifting them with his senses. He tried willing her to step out of the unknown and into his realm of control. He felt better when he knew she was safe. The more he concentrated on her imminent arrival, the more uneasy he became. He thought of the many dangers she could be facing in the jungle and tensed up. His mind cataloged the different scenarios, clinically dissecting what his reaction would in each case. Breathing deeply, he tried to picture himself holding it together.

A sound to his left caught his attention and his heart beat a little faster. He turned and squinted into the curtain of green. Someone was approaching. He visualized Danielle stepping into view. He steeled himself against the anticipation, he loathed for her to see him fretting about her absence. Another noise distracted him from his ritual. It was very faint and it came from the opposite direction. It was an intermittent, mechanical clicking like someone repeated hitting return on a typewriter. There was a wisp of something in his peripheral vision that vanished as quickly as it was perceived.

He suddenly felt very alone and vulnerable there in the jungle. The clearing seemed to expand around him and he found himself looking toward the tops of the trees and rotating slowly. He was on the edge of dizziness when he heard faint voices coming from the path toward the beach. He quickly bent and picked up the implement that he had dropped during the preceding minutes. His heart raced and paranoia briefly swept over him.

Montand stepped through the verdant veil and into the clearing. His expression evolved into puzzlement and then a wide grin spread his lips. Robert realized that he had been holding his breath and let it out with an audible sigh. Clearly embarrassed, he smiled weakly at his friend.

"Looks like you've been busy." Montand unloaded his burden of supplies and motioned toward the hole. René and Girard were the next to emerge and deposit their provisions in the pile. Brennan brought up the rear with his stoic expression and offhandedly laid down his gear with the others. He looked briefly at Robert standing there alone and then casually glanced into the hole. Montand said what Brennan was thinking. "Where is Danielle?"

Brennan's mind went into overdrive and it was all he could do to keep his composure while his heart rate increased. He found it difficult to continue breathing normally. It wasn't that thing. Robert would be more frantic, he tried to rationalize to himself. But what if she wandered off and that thing found her. Robert will be a destroyed man. This last thought was almost soothing in its simplicity. He wasn't man enough to protect that wild creature and he has no idea.

"Uh . . . she went to find a water source," Robert stated. He couldn't remember if that was the actual excuse she had used. He folded his arms and tried to display an air of confidence in himself.

This is too good, Brennan thought as he regained control of his respiration. He relished the thought of breaking the news to him - breaking the man. Danielle's fate was inconsequential. It was Robert's fate that held his real interest. Maybe it was better this way.

Montand raised an eyebrow at Robert. "You seem a little shaken up, you sure you're ok?" Brennan couldn't help himself as a smirk tugged at his lips.

"I'm fine." Robert decided to change the subject. "How many more trips do you think it will take?"

Brennan ignored Montand's answer as the two began discussion logistics. René and Girard seemed to sense the dissipation of the tension and launched their own discussion. Brennan stood apart and fantasized about the upcoming confession. I wanted to tell you, he rehearsed. Danielle didn't want to burden you too much . . . burden you unnecessarily – that was a good word to use. When you were salvaging the ship, Dani and I - he hates that nickname – we saw something in the jungle, something monstrous. I'm very sorry for your loss. She was a tremendous woman – that sounded weak. She was . . .

Brennan's thoughts were interrupted by a sound from behind him. Robert and Montand had looked up as well and he could see the sure smile of relief envelop Robert's face. He turned to see Danielle stepping out into the clearing. She strode up to Robert and kissed him. "Hello, my dear."

Brennan stood reactionless apart from jutting out his jaw. It was as close to a pout as he would allow to show. Robert put his arm around Danielle, "Any luck?"

"There is a gorge off that way," she tossed her head slightly to the left. "We should be able to get close enough to draw water for ourselves, but there is something else there that you will need to see."

They followed her a short distance to the gorge. Robert saw it first, "mon âme . . ." The rest of the group looked on in awe at Danielle's discovery. There it was stretching from the point they stood to the other side of the gorge. It was a rope bridge. "We are definitely not alone."