"Don't follow me, grownup!"
The Doctor ran through the woods following Zeke. "Let me help you!" the Doctor called out.
Zeke reached the edge of a large stream. He picked up a stick and held it out in front of him, ready to attack. The Doctor reached the water's edge and saw Zeke waiting for him. The Doctor held up his hands to show he was unarmed. "Now Zeke, put the stick down."
"I don't want help from a grownup!"
"Zeke, I'm not your average grownup," the Doctor sighed. "Look, I'm not here to take away your leadership or put you down. But someone sent up a distress signal and I'm not one to ignore a distress signal. I take it wasn't you who made the smoke signal." The Doctor lowered his hands.
"It was Joe. He is a traitor!" Zeke's grip on the stick did not lessen.
"Let me tell you something, Zeke. I'm a traveler. I've travelled to many places. I've seen many things and met many people. You wouldn't believe the number of cultures where a boy crosses the bridge into manhood by going on his first real hunt and making his first kill that brings home food for his tribe. It's quite a universal rite of passage."
"Yeah, so?" Zeke said.
The Doctor stood his ground. "You crossed that bridge a long time ago, didn't you?"
"Five years ago," Zeke said. They hysteria in his voice had ebbed, but his stance with the stick in his hand did not change.
"So, five years ago you became a man. But your first kill came out of necessity and not from a society ritual and celebration." He took a step forward. "You not only had to make your first kill and become a man, you also had to become leader of your tribe, and if that was five years ago, you were leader of a group of very small children. That is a huge weight to have been placed on your shoulders five years ago. How old were you Zeke? Thirteen?"
"Twelve," Zeke answered.
The Doctor took another step closer. He really didn't know the story behind this tribe of lost boys, but he was piecing together the bits of the story he knew. It was clear to him that five years ago these boys had found themselves on their own. No grownups, no help. No one but themselves.
Zeke's eyes were red and a tear ran down one of his cheeks. He realized in a moment that the Doctor was coming closer. He held the stick more firmly in his hands and shook it at the Doctor. "No!" he yelled. He took the stick and flung it into the air, sending it right over the Doctor's head and into the woods. "Those awful grownups took away my family! Because of them, I'm leader of my tribe. I have raised them, I have fed them, protected them, taught them, comforted them! All because of some stupid grownups! I hate grownups! They are bad!"
Zeke stamped on the ground around the Doctor. He picked up another stick and threw it as he spoke. He picked up another stick and whacked one of the trees over and over with it. The Doctor stood by and watched. Zeke was beyond reason and control. The Doctor waited. He knew Zeke would eventually tire out and having vented all his frustrations, would be ready to talk and perhaps except help. Until Zeke's rage was over, the Doctor could only watch and wait.
Charley picked up the boy's bloody shirt. "Would you like me to wash this for you?" she asked.
Joe stood up and reached for his shirt. His face betrayed the pain he felt with every movement. "I can do it myself."
"Yes, I'm sure you can, but I thought I could help, since your back is sore," Charley said.
Joe took the shirt from her. "No, but thank you." He started to walk closer to the fire and sat down on a log. Davy followed and sat down next to Joe. Charley took a quick look around the cave. The boys still stood along the walls watching her. No one had moved since Zeke and the Doctor had left. Charley found another log by the fire to sit on. She turned and faced Joe.
"So, you saw the smoke signals and came to help?" Joe asked.
"Yes, we did."
"Which village are you from?"
"I'm not from any village. You see, the Doctor, he has this ship and it picked up on your signal and brought us here." Joe stared at Charley like she had lizards crawling out of her ears. "I know it sounds crazy, but it is the truth. Tell me, Joe," Charley leaned in closer to Joe and Davy, "why did you send up the distress signals?"
"We need help. At least, I think we need help. Zeke doesn't, but I say we do." Joe shifted on his log, each movement of his body was painful. "This has been a tough winter. We didn't gather enough food during the fall. We couldn't find much. We are almost out of food. It's also very cold this winter, colder than I remember others being."
"How long have you been here for?" Charley asked.
"About five years," Joe answered.
Charley was shocked. If Davy was six, that meant he had come to live in this cave when he was only a small baby. Who had taken care of him? Who brought him here and why?
"A few weeks ago, Tommy, my brother, got sick. He died three days ago," Joe's head bent down. Charley could tell he was hiding tears.
"I'm so sorry, Joe."
"It was hard on all of us, but Zeke seemed really mad about it," Joe said.
"He probably felt like it was his fault," Charley said. She was starting to understand a few things, but there were more questions than answers right now.
"Yeah, I think he did. I said we should go to the village for help, but Zeke said no. He has always told us the villages were dangerous."