Alright, make way for chapter three! I think after this chapter, I'll be deviating from the storyline only very slightly to put more events in between those stated in the book. By all means, I will stick to the actual Golding story. But I'll add in all the cute, fluffy, and funny stuff too. Let me know if things are holding your interest! And thank you for all of your amazing reviews. You make me so happy! :)


The storm quieted after a while, and before long it was sunny. Most of the choirboys had stayed huddled together. They'd either fallen asleep or taken to just lying there quietly and thinking about their situation. Where were they? Were there people around? They hadn't seen any buildings as they crash-landed. Was this a city? A countryside? Where on the map did this place lie? What happened to the plane?

What happened to the other kids?

Suddenly, there came a loud blasting noise far off in the distance. Roger jolted awake, shaking violently in Jack's arms. Jack lifted his head an opened his sleepy eyes. "A trumpet!" Bill shouted, already hopping to his feet. "A trumpet! A man is summoning us! We're going to be alright!" As soon as the thoughts processed in Jack's mind, he too jumped up. "Choir! In formation!" he shouted. They all began to talk excitedly and murmur about themselves. "We're saved!" Simon cheered gleefully. Jack marched them all across the beach, reminding them to lift their feet high so sand wouldn't get on the bottom of their cloaks. "We must look presentable for the man with the trumpet. He'll probably be the one to send us back home." he told them.

The sun beat down on the boys all clad in black. Maurice swiped some sweat off his brow. "I'm sweating like a pig, Merridew." he complained from somewhere in the middle. Harold pinched him. "You're not nearly as fat as a pig. Remember the ones we saw at the farm that time? They were all squishy with fat." he said. Maurice thought this over for a minute, then laughed despite the heat. Simon staggered a bit on his feet as they marched. Roger took his arm silently, staring at him with his intense gaze. "I'm alright, dear." Simon assured gently, stopping himself from gasping for air. Roger nodded and went back to walking quietly.

Jack noticed up ahead that there were bunches of children gathering near a palm tree that had a bending trunk. "There!" he shouted. They all marched in their formation towards this odd group. Jack's eyes hurt from squinting in the sun so much, and black spots were beginning to swarm his vision. "Choir! Halt!" he ordered when they approached the children. To avoid rubbing his eyes and looking young, the redhead took to blinking hard. "Where's the man with the trumpet?" he asked aloud. A tall boy with blonde hair hopped down off the leaning trunk. "There's no man with a trumpet." he said.

"Isn't there a man here?"

"No."

Jack's eyes were beginning to adjust to the shade. He noticed that all around him sat young children between the ages of six and thirteen. There really was no man. No man except for him. He wasn't sure what to say now - - especially after his choir had been so excited to hear that they were saved. He didn't have much time to say anything anyway, because behind him Simon tipped over and fainted onto the sand. Roger was first to kneel down. He grabbed the boy's wrists and pointed at Maurice to take the ankles. The choir broke out into worry. Usually when Simon fainted at home, he'd wake up within a few minutes and be alright. But suddenly in this strange land, they felt like anything that happened to him would be their responsibility.

Bill and Henry put their hands under Simon's back to support his limp body. "Take him out of the sun! Put him in the shade over there!" Robert told them. The boys began moving to an empty patch of coolness amongst the young ones. Now they were all flustered too. Most had never seen a boy just drop like that. But to the choir, it was regular thing. "Let him alone!" Jack snapped when a child went over to Simon's unconscious body and poked his side. The little one backed off immediately after Jack barked at him. "He'll be alright." Jack addressed everyone. "Simon's always throwing a faint!" The boys all took a seat around the sleeping boy, Roger staying closest.

Suddenly, his heart stopped. A fat kid wandered out of the crowd to stand near the blonde boy. Roger narrowed his eyes. He knew him. Jack towered over them, being tallest, and asked what they were going to do. The moment the fatty opened his mouth to start repeating names he'd learned, Roger felt his fists clench. He knew him. This was the kid that had teased him one time. He'd made a scene. Roger had lost it on him, threatening to kill him and destroy him; then Jack came to his rescue and also began berating that pig. But presently the redhead didn't seem to recall the incident. Heck, Roger had been having so many outbursts lately, it was hard to keep track of them all. He wanted to get Jack in private to tell him. Yet he was preoccupied with more important things.

The fat kid asked each choirboy for his name. While they all proudly stated it, feeling the little ones' gazes stuck upon them in awe, Roger didn't even want to answer to him. He turned his head when it was his time to speak. He wouldn't. He couldn't. Jack cleared his throat as Bill nudged his arm. When Roger looked up, Jack was glaring at him. He muttered that his name was Roger and immediately pulled his cloak around him tighter.

When Simon woke up, he felt a little dizzy. But it quickly dispelled once he registered Roger's hand gently brushing against him over and over. He heard the blonde boy say his name was Ralph. Simon smiled absently. To him, it sounded like a very kind name. Maybe waiting for rescue won't be so bad, he thought easily. If everyone gets along and works together, we'll be just fine. He cringed when he heard Jack call the large child "fatty". As the other boys laughed, he looked around at all of them in shock. How could they be teasing someone they'd just met. Then Ralph called him "Piggy".

It hurt Simon's heart to see such a good-natured person stoop for a moment. He wanted to stand up and go comfort Piggy when he tried to hide behind a thin palm trunk that only called more attention to his incredibly large size. Maurice was almost exploding with laughter. He held up his hands to address everyone and pointed at the tree trunk. "Hey!" he shouted sarcastically. "Where'd he go? I don't see him anymore!" The boys cackled even harder.

Ralph proposed that they choose a leader so that everything could go more orderly. Bill put his hand up. "Can I be chief, Jack?" he called out. Robert laughed at him. "You can't even tie your shoes! And you expect us to nominate you for a leader?" Jack looked around at everyone. He felt power begin to course through his veins as he thought about how much bigger, stronger, and talented he was compared to them all. "I ought to be chief," he said aloud. "I'm chapter chorister and head boy!" Ralph put his hands up. He wanted to be chief too. Both boys took a moment to stare at each other. Roger could sense that tension was clouding the air, and since he'd had enough of that at home, he wanted to be the one in control of stopping it. "Let's have a vote!" he announced, winning much support. "Who wants Jack to be chief?" Ralph asked them. The choir begrudgingly raised their hands. It wasn't that they didn't want Jack to be their leader, but they knew how he was when he was in power. And stressed. The combination was absolutely a mess. But something even worse happened. Ralph was elected chief. While the young boys cheered and clapped for their candidate, the choir gathered together to figure out a way to console the loser. Their loser.

Ralph decided that it would be best to let Jack have some control, so he asked him what he wanted the choirboys be. "Soldiers, Jack!" Harold called out excitedly. "No! Have us be a parliament!" Robert suggested. Jack set his jaw, upset and embarrassed at this consolation prize. "Hunters," he stated. The choir of small boys looked up innocently, as if not understanding what that would specifically entail.

Ralph announced that he and Jack would go up to the top of the nearby mountain to look for civilization. When they called upon Simon to follow them, a well of emotions sprang up inside Roger. Why did they want him? What were they going to do? Would they kill him? What if they met trouble? He was about to protest. He really was. But as the three walked away, he felt someone shove a whole handful of sand into his face. Some even got in his mouth. Henry laughed. "I got you!" he sing-songed.

"Don't do that!" Roger barked.

"Why? There aren't any grownups here to stop me!"

Harold tossed a sand-ball at Bill. "No throwing sand!" a little one whined. Roger swiped some grains out of his mouth and eyes, taking a moment to harshly glare at the childish classmate that had attacked him without warning. I'll get you, he thought. There aren't any grownups here to stop me.

Maurice took to making a small snowman, but out of sand. He used some little pebbles to even make a face, two little sticks for arms, and a leaf to resemble a tie. Robert knelt down to take a look at it. "Maurice?" he began.

"Yes, Robert?" he replied.

"That looks about as good as your drawings at home."

"It's that amazing?"

"…I don't know which is worse."

Not liking that response (but of course not taking it personally), Maurice leapt up and began chasing Robert all around the beach, threatening to dunk him in the water and leaving him to explain his soiled clothes to Jack Merridew. While the other three went exploring, the rest of the choir played in the sand, ran around, and had an overall good time. The sweet feeling of freedom from a close parental eye allowed them to open up and just as like the young boys they were.

They didn't even entertain the thought in their minds that they could be stranded on an uncharted island without any hope of rescue.