Chapter 6
Jack stared into the fire, thinking.
What he had done just now was probably the most brutal act of his life. He'd been in plenty of fights before, and had won most of them- Roger had bailed him out of a few, a lifetime ago. But this- he'd beaten Ralph up and hurled him to the ground, and dared anyone who wanted to do something about it to come up and take their chances.
It had been the biggest rush he'd ever experienced. No politics, no discussions. Just raw power, out in the open. Jack's muscles now had the strength to give his will the backing he'd always wanted. Roger had been there to lend a hand, give his word weight. But now… he could act all on his own if he wanted to. He could kick Roger aside- if he wanted to. Jack didn't want to, but the important thing was, he had the option, the opportunity. If Roger named a condition for his continued support that Jack didn't care for, now, Jack could refuse him. Maybe that would be necessary one of these days. Or maybe it wouldn't. Roger had been loyal so far; never once had he let Jack down. Never. All Jack needed to do was convince Roger that he had a master to serve, more than ever, and that he would continue to be rewarded for his service- but no longer would he make demands. Jack was the only one who would do that now.
The beating of his hated enemy, his rival, had satisfied the wound to Jack's ego that was done by Ralph getting voted in as leader when they first got here- and by Ralph having higher rank in the first place. Jack had avenged that insult. He had paid it back many times over, all in one act. Every time Ralph had made him go here, go there, do this, do that- Jack had made him pay. He'd beaten the Colonel until the other boy was cowering before him, and he left him to huddle in the darkness at the edge of the camp, hungry and alone.
It made Jack feel good to know Ralph was experiencing that. He felt glad. Maybe he'd force Ralph to be his personal servant, made to do the most menial tasks, groveling at Jack's feet for scraps. If Ralph tried to keep his damn pride and refuse, he would be beaten and starved. Eventually, Jack would make Ralph so desperate, he could demand a blowjob in front of the whole camp and Ralph would do it gladly.
Why not? It was power at its finest. Jack would probably make Ralph do just that if the mood struck him. Some humiliation was definitely in order.
Jack had never been so powerful at school, at any of his schools. Bunker Hill had been just the latest one; Jack's antics had seen him expelled from more than a few. So he'd been one of the top kids in the barracks, holding some influence, some authority beyond his rank. So what? It hadn't amounted to much and Jack had needed to constantly remind people, especially new cadets, who he was. At home, Dad and his dumb stepmom were always yelling at him, telling him to stop messing around.
Sticking his cock into another girl, mixing it up in fights, skipping school, stealing the occasional car- Jack had done those and other things because he was bored. Because his life was empty and lacked direction, purpose. What the hell else did he have to do with a Dad who had never really known what to do with him and a stepmother who saw him as a nuisance?
Here… here Jack was something. Someone. The little ones cowered at his sight, huddling together and visibly shaking. The savage beating Jack had delivered, the rage he'd shown, had terrified the little cadets. Jack, once upon a time, might have regretted that. Now, he liked it. It was fun being feared. Those kids would do anything he said right now, even fight each other to the death. Jack had absolute control over their lives.
The Hunters were at his beck and call. Everyone else would follow his orders because they knew no one stood a chance at contesting them. Jack was drunk on the thrill of success, of freedom from a bullshit world and its stupid rules and restrictions, and above all else on power. He had never dreamed he'd hold so much. No one could get in his way here. No more stupid teachers, or adults of any kind. No cadets of higher rank making him back down. No one at all. Jack stared at the fire, silently thinking that he had never felt so in touch with the power held by the chieftains of the tribes that human civilization had begun with, long, long ago.
Those men had been uncontested, too. What the chief said was law. Nobody questioned him, not as long as he still ruled. And the kings of Europe- they'd had some deal where they said they got their authority from God. There was some fancy word or words for it, but Jack didn't know. Like he gave a fuck what they had to tell him in history class.
It was better to forge your own path, burn your own place into the history books. Do shit that other people would one day write about.
Jack, here on this island, felt like he had never amounted to more in his life. He wanted for nothing here, had all the freedom and power he'd ever longed for.
Well, he did want for one thing. Girls. Women. Jack hadn't had sex in forever, and jerking it every day- or multiple times, given how often he was getting hard lately- was just not the same. If only some girls had wound up here, too. Jack would have charmed his way into their pants quickly, and now, with his guys all getting needs of their own, Jack would've made them into whores.
Especially the pretty, imperious little princess, the dean's daughter, Arianna. Jack would have had some fun with her on this island. And Roger, too. And Rapper. And all the rest of the Hunters. Simon might have been reluctant still, but as bad as he needed that kind of release, he couldn't have refused to take someone like Arianna if she were here. Simon would have raped her eventually, just to keep from going insane. Jack could imagine how he'd have made her beg, how he'd have tricked her and manipulated her and made her crawl. It was beautiful to imagine.
Maybe, if he ever got off this island, Jack would get around to some of that.
XX
"Hey, Chief," Roger said, in a deeper voice than he'd spoken with when they'd first come to this island. Like Jack, he looked and sounded eighteen. And looked like a bodybuilder. Firelight played over rippling, bulging muscle, and from where Jack sat, Roger towered over him.
"Yeah, Roge?" Jack asked.
"That was beautiful," Roger said, and the other boy seemed unable to keep a grin off his face. "You should have done that a long time ago. He had that coming."
"Yeah, he sure as hell did."
"Nobody's gonna mess with you now," Roger said, grinning still. "You're the boss and everyone knows it. You want something done, just say it. I'll make it happen. It's an honor to serve you, Chief."
Jack liked that. He liked it a lot. He grinned right back at Roger, and said, "Don't ever forget it. I'm Chief."
"Never."
Roger sat down beside Jack, on his right as always. Jack could tell something had changed. Roger had said more in a minute than he normally did in a month, and he was never one to say things he didn't mean. Unlike a lot of people now, Roger never gave praise for the sake of making someone feel good. He was so impressed with Jack that he couldn't even seem to stop himself from saying what he had just now.
"That was fucking awesome, Chief," Rapper said, approaching moments later. "Roger's right. Ralph had that shit coming. I'll drag him over here and kick his ass some more if you want."
The thought of his fallen rival being beaten for his entertainment was thrilling to Jack, but as strong as all these guys were, there was the risk they'd go too far and accidentally kill him. If that happened without Jack wanting it to, that'd be a win for Ralph. As long as he was alive, he could be made to suffer. And right now, he was bruised and hungry, frightened and alone. He'd crawled off to hide in Benson's old hut, from the look of things.
"Nah," Jack said, shrugging a muscular shoulder. "Thanks, though."
"I'm with you all the way," Roger said, ramrod straight as he stood before his Chief. "Just say the word."
Jack took a moment to notice how much taller Rapper had gotten, how much stronger. Like all the Hunters, the black-skinned boy had apparently become a passionate weightlifter, and was fucking amazing at it. Powerful, sculpted muscle was visible everywhere on his body. To have someone like that be offering you their unconditional loyalty was an amazing thing.
"Tomorrow," Jack said, "kick Ralph in the balls. Bring him right up to me and do it to him. I wanna see it."
"Can I help?" Larry asked. His face was flushed with a kind of savage joy Jack knew very well. Larry had hated Ralph ever since he'd been confined to the inside of one of the huts for a day, and was just aching for some payback.
"Punch him in the stomach as hard as you want," Jack said, like a king conferring favors.
"Yes, Chief," Larry said. The smaller boy looked like an extremely fit fourteen-year-old now, and there was no one else more blindly loyal. Larry had once been timid and small-minded; now he was savage and small-minded. He still thought like a little kid, and because Jack gave him the guidance and direction he needed, Larry responded by admiring Jack, worshiping him, and being eager to do anything Jack told him to.
"I wanna hit him too," Andy said, stepping forward. His red hair was turning into a reddish lion's mane, and like Rapper, he now looked and sounded years older than he was. "I wanna fucking cut his nuts off with Tony's survival knife. What you did to Ralph was amazing, Jack. You should do it to him every day."
Jack grinned, delighted and amused. "I think he's suffering enough right now," Jack said. "But tomorrow, you get to wake him up."
Andy's freckled face fell. "What?" he gasped. "Jack, I- come on!"
"You didn't ask me how I want you to do that," Jack said, grinning still.
Andy looked at him curiously. "How should I wake him up?"
"I want you to piss in his face."
The Hunters howled with laughter at that one, and Andy nodded, more than satisfied.
Eric, Will, Steve, Patterson, and Simon were close by, but didn't offer any personal congratulations of their own. Jack didn't mind. They were loyal and would obey without question. He might ask for personal loyalty pledges from them sometime, but right now, Jack didn't feel any need.
Larry was at least as thrilled as Roger at what Jack had done to Ralph. He stood in front of the other Hunters even after they'd all sat in a circle around the fire, Jack at the head, and recounted the beat-down in great detail.
"He was like Captain America," Larry exclaimed, "just laying down the law! Telling people what's what! Nobody messes with Captain America, and nobody messes with Jack!"
"Hail to the Chief!" Roger bellowed, and the Hunters all roared it back.
Jack watched his Hunters as they celebrated him, honored him, pledged loyalty to him. Never in all his life had the blond adolescent felt so good. And he felt no guilt over beating Ralph, no remorse. That weak, hesitant part of him was even more suppressed and hidden than usual. Jack was all steel, all strength. He liked who he was now. He didn't ever want to change.
XX
As Jack had ordered, Ralph was awoken by a stream of urine hitting his face. As he sputtered and sat up, the urine kept coming, and he had to put up a hand to keep it out of his closed eyes. Ralph looked up and saw Andy standing over him in the hut entrance, completely naked, shaking a large, circumcised penis. When he saw Ralph looking at him, the redhead grinned.
"Morning, Colonel," Andy said, and he laughed.
"That's disgusting, Andy," Ralph blurted. "What the hell's wrong with you?"
"Aw, you're just mad 'cause I'm bigger than you," Andy said, shaking his penis again. "You got no idea, Ralph. The girls are gonna beg for it. Beg." He turned and shouted over one muscular shoulder. "Hey, guys! He's up!"
"Wooo!" Larry yelled, and he came sprinting over with Rapper and hauled Ralph to his feet. The boys' hands locked around Ralph's arms like bands of steel. There was no contesting that. Ralph tried anyway, but he was hauled out of the hut and onto the beach, toward Jack, who sat cross-legged, eating some leftover meat.
"Well, good morning, Colonel!" Jack said, nodding and smiling. "Okay, guys, go ahead."
Andy came over and grabbed Ralph's left arm as Larry let go. The blond boy stood in front of Ralph, gazing hatefully at him. "Here's your solitary confinement, sir."
Ralph tried to steel himself for the blow, but Larry's fist caved in his stomach like a hammer. The sheer force of it was unbelievable. Rapper pivoted and swung a leg, kicking him in the groin, and the two powerful blows made Ralph's vision nearly white out. Nausea hit him in a mighty wave, and Ralph vomited what little he had in his stomach onto the sand. Larry hit him again, and Ralph strained against the muscular arms holding him. His stomach tried to reject its contents again, but there was nothing. Ralph dry-heaved, retching horribly, and he could hear the Hunters laughing. Jack smiled at him.
"Okay. So now that we got you up, would you like to eat?"
"Yes," Ralph said, surprised at even this slight hint of humanity.
Jack's smile grew wider. "Are you ready to beg for it?"
"Fuck you, Jack," Ralph spat, disgusted like he'd never been in all his life.
Larry's hand suddenly wrapped around his throat then, and Ralph's windpipe was instantly closed. He stared up at Larry's enraged face as the younger boy strangled him.
"You're nothing but a piece of shit, Ralph," Larry shouted. "So be a quiet fucking piece of shit."
Ralph's hands pulled at Larry's, and he strained to take a breath, but there was no chance. None. He couldn't do anything, not even against Larry, who just weeks ago had been another scared kid.
"That's enough, Larry," Jack said, and instantly Larry let go. Ralph collapsed onto the sand, one elbow landing in his own vomit, and he gasped, struggling to breathe again.
"Fuck you, Ralph," Larry said, and Ralph felt spit land on the back of his neck. "You talk to the Chief like that again and I'll kill you."
"Okay, guys." Jack stared at Ralph a moment. "Throw him back in that hut. Make him drink salt water if he comes out without permission. Let's see how he likes solitary confinement for a day, Larry."
Looking absolutely delighted, Larry hauled Ralph back to his hut all by himself. Delivering a few kicks for good measure, Larry walked out and rejoined his Chief.
XX
"There are no more groups," Jack told everyone after he and his Hunters had eaten, and the others had been thrown a few scraps. "Only the Hunters and their servants. The rest of you better be grateful we haven't left you to starve out there. Roger's volunteered to stay behind on today's hunt, and make sure everyone here behaves. One more needs to stay." Jack smiled. "Don't worry, guys, we'll rotate on this. So if you miss out on something good today, just remember there's tomorrow."
"I'll stay," Simon offered, but Jack shook his head. "Simon, I still feel bad you had to miss out because you were babysitting Benson. You get to come with us today."
"Let me do it, then," Patterson said, speaking up in the voice of an older boy. Formerly a somewhat lanky fourteen-year-old, Patterson, like the other Hunters, was now a model of physical strength. His powerful muscles promised swift retaliation to anyone who disobeyed Jack's orders. And while he'd been pretty non-aligned before, neither aiding Jack nor getting in his way, he was now a loyal foot soldier, carrying out orders without complaint.
Jack nodded. "All right. Roger, Patterson, you guys each get a whip made out of a stick and some vines, like Roger was talking about. We're gonna have a new system of discipline around here."
Roger nodded, grinning wolfishly, and Patterson nodded. The Hunters moved out, leaving Roger- cold, merciless Roger- in command of the camp. Simon hesitated, but only for a moment. He had wanted to stay, but Jack had responded by granting a favor, compensating him for earlier hunts he'd missed. Ralph would have to manage on his own for a while.
XX
Ralph sat inside his hut, listening to the others work. He wanted to help, but Roger had forbidden it. The little ones had begged for more food, but Roger said no, and told them to shut up. Outside the hut, Patterson was knocking out pushups and situps, unable to sit still while he watched and made sure Ralph stayed in the shelter.
Mikey wandered by at one point, staying close to Peter. The two of them looked hungry and scared, and their eyes turned to Ralph briefly. They still looked to him as the leader, and still hoped for him to please come and save them. They wanted to eat, and they wanted to go home. But Ralph just dropped his eyes and said nothing, and Patterson yelled at them to get back to work.
The enclosure Roger had ordered be built at the base of the rocky cliff overlooking the cove was going to be built by the time the Hunters came back late in the day. Ralph knew it. That team of slaves, formerly the Builders and most of the Firewatchers, had two big incentives- they didn't eat again until the work was done, and they'd be whipped if they didn't get it done on time. What was the enclosure for? Pigs. The Hunters planned to domesticate some of them.
Ralph hid in the hut, powerless and alone, the stink of urine and sweat and grime inescapable. He had to urinate in one corner, but he could not go to the pond to drink. Ralph didn't need to defecate. He hadn't eaten enough for that. His body was bruised in so many places, and he ached all over. Never had Ralph felt so useless. Those boys out there were his responsibility, and he had failed them. Jack had beaten him up and taken over, and now everyone was overworked and underfed except the Hunters.
Pablo was up at the hill, keeping the fire going. But before he had left with a couple of others, Roger had added his own incentive to make sure the fire kept going: letting the fire go out again would be punished by death.
Whipping, beating, death, withholding of food. Those were Roger's punishments. Peter tried to steal food late in the morning, probably in a desperate bid to feed Mikey, whom the other small boy was always looking after. Peter screamed and cried as Roger brought the home-made whip down on his back, but Roger didn't stop. John and Patterson held him while Roger did it, right in front of the doorway to Ralph's hut. Roger didn't even try to make Ralph look. He knew the other boy would have to. He knew the guilt would tear at Ralph's insides, and seeing, Peter cry and scream, and Mikey beg and sob, would break Ralph's heart.
It ended, eventually, when a series of bloody red scars crisscrossed Peter's small back.
Ralph wanted to apologize. He wanted to beg for the other boys' forgiveness. He wanted to be whipped so they wouldn't have to be. Those little ones, so small and helpless. What was happening now just might haunt them forever. The trauma from this might well ruin their lives. And Ralph knew he could have stopped it. All of it was his fault.
XX
As morning passed into afternoon, Patterson wandered away to urinate into the ocean. He defecated on the sand and then yelled for one of the others to come take it away, a task that fell to Sam.
"What're they giving you for this, Patterson?" Ralph asked quietly, as the brown-haired boy returned to his post. "Jack and Roger- what they're doing is wrong."
"It's not my problem," Patterson said, shrugging one thickly-muscled shoulder. "Jack's in charge now. If you were stronger than him, you would've won that fight."
"This is all wrong," Ralph insisted. "Roger wants to bring back slavery and Jack's letting him do it."
"It's the way things are now."
"Don't you think Jack could be wrong?"
"Jack's never wrong. He's the Chief. He told me you'd try to talk me into letting you go or something. I'm not gonna hit you unless you try to leave."
"Or unless Jack orders you to hit me."
"That's right."
"What about thinking for yourself?"
"It's overrated. And so is nobility, so I'd give that up. We're not at military school anymore, Ralph."
"I'm thirsty and I'm hungry," Ralph said. "A lot of these guys are. It's cruel and unusual punishment."
"No food or water for you," Patterson said. "Jack's orders. And the rest of those guys will work harder if they have to earn food and water that way. Roger says so."
"What do you think, Patterson?"
"I think Jack is the Chief and he gave me orders and you better shut up, Ralph."
Ralph gave up. He moved back away from the entrance to the hut, trying to stay alive in the scorching tropical heat. His body was begging for water, for food. But Patterson wouldn't budge. He gave no thought to the situation save for the fact that he was ordered to do certain things. He was strong and muscular, and none of the bad things were happening to him, so it wasn't his problem. He'd been an average guy, once. Easy to get along with. Now he was a good little Nazi, following orders.
It occurred to Ralph that maybe Patterson liked being told what to do. It made life easier, allowing others to make the decisions. As confusing and frightening as this was for Ralph, it probably wasn't that easy for Patterson. Maybe this was his way of surviving. "I was only following orders."
At what looked like noon, Ralph was startled to see a couple of tropical fruit roll into the hut. Patterson glanced at him, and said, "From Simon," and turned back to looking out at the ocean. "Be glad I get along with him."
Ralph was surprised- both at Patterson's act, and that Simon had been friends with, well, anybody back then- but he didn't question it. Ralph ate quickly, and hid the leftovers in the sand so nobody would suspect Ralph had been given anything. It was nowhere near enough, but it was something.
As the day wore on, Ralph wondered who was going to die next on this island. For so long it looked like their luck would hold. But Captain Benson had died, and Tony had drowned. It tore at Ralph to think of brave, brassy-voiced Tony, sinking deep into the ocean, where uncaring creatures that they'd once read about in science class would eat away at his remains, leaving only the bones.
That was his fault. Ralph had been too slow. He should have jumped in before Jack could stop him. He should have been strong enough to save Tony.
He should have been strong enough to save everyone.
"You couldn't have stopped him," Patterson said quietly, making Ralph jump. "Jack was getting stronger. He would've taken over sometime."
"How did this happen?" Ralph hissed. "How? Why only the Hunters and not the rest of us?"
Patterson shrugged. "I don't know."
XX
Piggy oversaw what was left of the Builders, down one now that Tony was gone. They continued to follow his instructions, and the little ones hurried back and forth trying to help the bigger kids get the enclosure built. They never stopped, and Roger stood around nearby, watching. Sometimes he hit the ground for pushups, or did situps, or jumping jacks. No matter what he did, Roger kept on watching the workers.
What an incentive they had to work now! If they did everything exactly as ordered, they'd get to eat and drink. What fun. And Ralph, the one who had organized everything and done all he could to keep everyone safe and alive, was being kept in that damn hut. It was plain wrong, but what could anyone do? Well, anyone who wanted to do something, anyway. The Hunters all seemed okay with the way things were.
The enclosure took hours to build, but Piggy's expertise made sure it got done. It was at least fifty square feet, and could be modified and expanded if it needed to be. Bamboo made up a lot of it, dry and sturdy. There was even a section that functioned like a gate.
"Hey, this looks pretty good, Piggy," Roger said, walking over.
"If they catch a pig, this will hold it," Piggy said, wary of how Roger was suddenly friendly for some reason.
"Oh, yeah, but we gotta make sure," Roger said, and before Piggy could ask what that was supposed to mean, Roger lifted him into the air and hurled him into the fenced-in space. The fat boy landed hard, almost losing his glasses. "Okay, Piggy, now try and get out like a pig would," Roger said, laughing at him. "Come on, Piggy! Oink, oink! Come on! Let's test this fence! It's gotta be able to hold a pig!"
XX
The Hunters returned just as the sun began to set.
Cheering and yelling, they marched around Andy and Simon, who carried a struggling, squealing pig with blood trailing from its rear left leg, and Jack, who carried himself tall and proud, smiling once again as he came home with yet another success.
Simon and Andy raised the creature over the newly-built makeshift fence, and set it down, where it promptly ran away from them, fighting its limp, and attempted to find an exit to the enclosure. When it failed to find one, it tried to shove at the edges, but they held. Eventually it settled down in the farthest corner from where any of the boys were, eying them all warily.
"That's a nice fence you got them to build, Roge," Jack said admiringly.
"It's amazing what inferior people can do when you make food the reward," Roger replied, and the two boys laughed.
"Peter," Jack suddenly called out as the smaller boy hurried by, "What happened to you?"
"I made a mistake, Chief," Peter said, lowering his eyes. "I won't ever do it again, sir."
"Stealing food," Roger added. "I tested out the whip I made today."
"Okay," Jack said, nodding. "Don't do it again," he said to Peter, who nodded vigorously.
"They may not find your body otherwise!" Roger called after him, and Jack cracked up.
XX
After damn near working himself to death building the enclosure today, Sam got permission to help work on the hill. Pablo, he knew, was absolutely terrified of Jack, and now that Roger had made failure a death sentence, the Hispanic boy couldn't be sleeping much. Not without competent help, anyway. Sam meant to try to lend a hand and make things easier. With the groups as they had been destroyed, and the camp now divided into Masters and Slaves, your old task didn't matter as much anymore. Sam could do either thing, if he had permission.
On his way up the hill, Sam decided to get some work of his own done, and as tired as he was, he stubbornly hit the ground for some pushups. He was going to get stronger. Somehow, some way, he would catch up with his brother. No way was Eric going to win this dumb feud between them with his big muscles.
"Hey, look, it's the Squirt," a mocking voice called, and Sam looked up to see Larry approaching.
"Hi, Larry," Sam said, hoping to avoid an argument.
But Larry, riding high on Jack's victory and still smarting from the public embarrassment of being confined to quarters by Ralph, was looking for a fight whether Sam wanted one or not. He walked up and planted a foot on Sam's back, pinning him to the ground. The breath suddenly forced out of him, Sam struggled and squirmed, but Larry's foot pressed him down like he was being crushed by a boulder.
"Look at you," Larry taunted. "You threatened me. You said you wanted to kick my ass. Well, let's see you do it! I could crush you like a bug if I wanted to!"
Then, suddenly, he lifted his foot and Sam immediately scrambled to his feet, struggling to regain his breath. There was an aching bruise already forming where Larry's foot had slammed down. As Sam stood and faced Larry, he felt like reality had somehow quit on him. His mind had taken a walk off the map. How had Larry, the short, shy boy Sam had known in military school, become the tall, shockingly muscular preteen powerhouse that Sam saw before him? It was unbelievable.
"Remember when you beat up Tony?" Sam asked, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. "Remember when you punched his tooth out and he died trying to prove he was as strong as you are?"
It was a jab at Larry and his involvement in that incident, and it hit home. Larry's face darkened with rage, and he closed in. "Maybe you should punish me then," Larry said. "Come on, Squirt. Punish me."
Sam put up his fists, but inside, he was trying not to start trembling. Even as he put up a brave front, Sam's mind was racing, and he knew he needed a way out of the situation, and quickly. He was in a lot of trouble here. Running was pointless; Larry would catch up to him immediately. Fighting was equally useless; Larry had good reason to look so amused at Sam putting his dukes up.
And there would be no Ralph to stop the fight this time.
"The hell's going on?" Eric demanded angrily, in the voice of a teenager, striding up the hill towards them. Like all the Hunters, he was naked apart from that loincloth, and like all of them, he looked like he had been lifting weights for years.
"I'm gonna teach your puny, weak little brother his place," Larry replied.
Eric looked even angrier after he heard that, and it seemed like he teleported to stand between Sam and Larry. "Don't you touch him," Eric ordered.
"What?" Larry blurted in confusion.
"Touch him and I'll fuck you up," Eric yelled. "I'm not saying it twice, Larry!"
"What?" Larry said again. "You're a Hunter, you're one of us!" He was clearly startled that this was happening at all. He'd probably expected Eric would just be an audience to the beatdown, at most. He hadn't expected opposition at all.
"And Sam's my brother!" Eric barked, and raised his hands to the Mercy position, challenging Larry.
Larry stared incredulously, but finally broke away and stormed off without a word, heading back downhill, toward the camp. No doubt to rejoin his Chief and master, Jack.
Sam started up the hill.
"Sam," Eric said, "wait. You can't just leave!"
"Did you set that up?" Sam asked accusingly, turning to stare suspiciously at Eric. "Send Larry up here ahead of you and 'rescue' me from him?"
"It isn't like that," Eric said, visibly getting angry again.
"I'm just some slave," Sam said bitterly. "You shouldn't waste time talking to me."
"Quit being so stupid!"
"Or what, dork? You'll stage something else?"
Eric screamed, an incoherent bellow of rage. His muscular build suggested that he had become a fighter of powerful gifts, and Sam, for the first time in his life, both feared and hated his brother. He braced himself to be struck by his twin, but the blow never came. Eric stormed off, and Sam watched as he pulled a small tree clear out of the ground and threw it, yelling still. Then Eric stalked away, back towards the cove.
Sam looked after him, wondering if, in his fear and paranoia, he hadn't just made a mistake. What had started as a dumb feud between the twins had evolved into something much more permanent. Sam had a feeling they both wanted to make this right, but resentment and bitterness lingered enough that neither one seemed able to do it. Each time it went wrong. Sam hoped this wasn't going to last forever. He had never imagined life without his twin beside him, and it had been awful watching Eric grow and change and become so different. Sam didn't want the divide between them to be forever, but his rejecting Eric again just now had actually contributed to that. Yet he'd just said it and pushed him away. How much longer would Eric's kindness last, if Sam kept rejecting him when he tried to help? How many more times would Eric bother trying to approach Sam at all?
XX
Andy and Steve blocked the way as Piggy tried to make his way back to the main area of camp, after putting a half-coconut of water in for the pig. From the way they stood with their arms crossed imposingly, a pair of ripped He-Men who once had been just a couple of preteens, they had a problem with Piggy. Everyone- every Hunter, it seemed- had a bone to pick with somebody. It was so easy to upset them, and the consequences were so dire. What a fun camp this was getting to be.
"Two days ago I had to take orders from you," Andy said. "This morning I got my cock out and pissed in Ralph's face."
"Good for you. How'd it feel?"
"Great," Andy said enthusiastically, completely missing the sarcasm. "But that's not what Steve and I wanted to talk to you about."
"We wanna know which one of us is stronger," Steve went on. "I'm sure it's me but Andy says it's him for sure."
Andy lunged forward with one arm, curling it back. He flexed it, powerful muscle bulging into view, and Steve abruptly did the same.
"So, who's stronger?" Andy demanded. "Come on, we wanna know."
"I-I it's r-really- well, I mean, you're b-both p-pretty s-s-strong…" Piggy stammered out, hoping to get out of this with a noncommittal response.
"See, I told you nobody could tell like that," Steve said.
"Okay, we better do a competition for you to judge, Piggy," Andy said. Without warning he punched Piggy in the stomach just as hard as he could, knocking him down. Steve jerked Piggy's corpulent frame up with one hand and hit him again.
The two heavy blows were too much for Piggy, and he barely managed to roll off his back in time to throw up.
"Which one hurt more, Piggy?" Andy demanded. "We can try again if you want."
The force of the two blows had been pretty similar, but Piggy wasn't about to admit that. He managed to get through enough of the pain to say "Andy" and made sure to sound decisive about it. As decisive as he could, anyway.
"You'll just have to try harder tomorrow, Steve," Andy said.
"Guess so," Steve shrugged, and they strolled off together, laughing.
Piggy watched them go, unable to believe how drastically things had changed in so short a period of time. Those two guys had never been so aggressive as that before. Like all the other Hunters, they had been altered significantly by… something. And Roger's earlier abuse of him, then this, was all on the first day of the new management. Piggy decided he did not want to be around for many more. Never did he imagine he'd miss the old Jack Merridew, but the loud, preening peacock they'd landed on this island with was now, by comparison to who he'd become, a modest and reasonable guy.
XX
Andy and Steve chased down a pig that wandered too near the camp as dinner got close. They killed it and dragged it back, and enthusiastically worked to skin it. Jack delayed dinner in response, and for the ordinary boys as much as the endlessly-hungry Hunters, the smell of the cooking meat was almost unbearable.
Once the food was all ready, the Hunters all lined up and took their generous portions. As they feasted eagerly, Jack sat at their head as always, his mere posture saying he felt like a newly-crowned king. He surprised everyone by having Ralph called from his hut. Larry and Andy forcibly dragged the deposed leader over, their expressions saying they hoped they could hit him some more.
"Ralph will eat tonight," Jack decided. "I'm feeling generous. Even on day one, things are better with me in charge."
"The Chief has spoken!" the Hunters all said in unison.
Ralph stepped forward to get his meager share, but then noticed Peter, Mikey, Sheraton, Greg and Tex watching the scene, clearly desperate to get their turn. Jack was making the little ones eat last.
"Feed them first," Ralph decided, remembering his rule, adopted from other men from other times, about leaders eating last.
"Look at him," Roger mocked. "So proud!"
The Hunters laughed.
"Go on, then," Jack said impatiently, and the little ones got handed their small rations. Even so, they hurried off to an open space at the edge of the fire, quickly devouring what they'd been given.
As Ralph finally came up to be handed his food, he realized he was getting a smaller share than even the little ones had gotten. It was pitiful. He looked at Jack, who met his gaze evenly. "Be grateful," he said, "that I'm letting you eat at all."
"Thank you," Ralph forced out.
"What?" Jack said, his tone hinting at anger.
"Thank you… Chief," Ralph made himself say.
"Good," Jack said, nodding. "I'll get you to beg on your knees for scraps if I want. For fucking scraps, Ralph. The Chief's generosity is why you're alive." He then waved dismissively, losing interest.
As he had imagined, Ralph's hunger was barely satisfied by what he'd been given. But unlike the Hunters, who could go back for as much as they wanted, Ralph had no chance of asking for more. Well, he could, but he wouldn't get it.
Sitting at the edge of the camp as usual, Ralph watched something interesting happening. The only non-Hunters who were allowed any additional food were the ones who asked Jack- begged him, more like- and called him "Chief" and "sir" and threw in some compliments, and promises to do anything they were told. Jack was building a system wherein personal loyalty to the boss was rewarded with food, the most valuable commodity here. He was working to make even basic survival instincts tell you to be loyal and obedient to the Chief.
Simon spent most of his dinner sitting near the little ones, doing his best to protect them- generally by distracting any Hunters who took an interest in them. He fed them small scraps from his own second and third helpings, and wandered over with some meat and fruit well after dark.
"Got you some food," Simon said, in his seventeen-year-old voice.
"Thanks, Simon," Ralph said, genuinely grateful.
"Patterson make it a little easier on you today?"
"Yeah. Not a lot, but he did."
"He's trying to stay neutral, but you and I always treated him fair. I also beat him at pushups to one hundred and he said he'd go easier if I did that."
"I guess it's nice they're not all heartless," Ralph said. "Eric, you, I guess Patterson also."
"We have to play the role," Simon answered. "And Patterson had Roger watching him half the time today. Roger doesn't trust anybody who doesn't want to hurt people like he does."
"Hey, Simon!" Rapper yelled from the fire. "Quit wasting your time talking to that loser!"
"Yeah, Jack's telling dirty stories!" Andy added.
"See you," Simon said. "Sorry about all this."
"Not as sorry as I am," Ralph said quietly to himself, watching Simon go.
XX
"Ralph!" a boy hissed in the gathering dark, the cove fire starting to die down. Ralph sat up, startled. Who the hell wanted to talk to him?
"Who's there?" Ralph asked tersely.
"Me," the voice answered, and Ralph saw the rotund shape of Piggy coming into view in the dark.
"Go away," Ralph hissed. "I bet Jack's just looking for an excuse to punish anyone who talks to me."
"Things are getting bad," Piggy said without preamble. "It's awful. We did everything just right, just the way the grownups would've. But it didn't work. We need to get out of here."
"How would we even do that, Piggy?"
"The raft!" Piggy exclaimed. "One got washed out to sea, but the other's still here in the cove! See, we wait until the middle of the night. We get some coconut halves with water, and get food from the storage, and we just push off and set sail!"
"What about everyone else?"
"We can't take them," Piggy said mournfully. "There's just no way we could wake everyone up and get them out of the camp without Jack and the Hunters noticing."
Ralph thought about it. "We'll just have to come back for them when we can."
"That's right."
"Okay. Let's wait a few more hours. Then we'll do it."
XX
As much as Jack talked about doing everything perfectly and how no one was better than him, he had never bothered to correct something Ralph had been meaning to: no sentries were posted at camp during the night. Everyone just went to sleep. Sure, there didn't appear to be any threats on this island from the wildlife, but now that a good number of the cadets were unwilling members of Jack's camp, you would have thought Jack would get a guard shift organized to keep escapes from happening during the night.
But then, that was one of the more mundane aspects of leadership, administration. And Jack thought administration to be boring and dumb. Add in a good dose of overconfidence, of "Who would dare try to escape from my camp?" and you had a pretty good explanation for why Jack hadn't bothered to post a guard.
After a wait of two or three hours that had felt like several times that, Piggy crept back over and he and Ralph began working to put their plan in action. As they worked at the cove's edge to stock up the raft, Piggy whispered, "Maybe we shouldn't do this."
"What? This was your idea, Piggy!" Ralph whispered back.
"No, I mean, like, what if we get out there on the ocean and a Soviet submarine finds us, and they take us back to the Soviet Union and make us be in the Olympics?"
Ralph laughed, but bitterness soon took over, and he shook his head. "They wouldn't want us, Piggy. They'd want the Hunters." He briefly, and with surprising ease, pictured Larry in a Soviet team's gymnast outfit, the hammer and sickle prominently displayed. Ralph imagined Jack power-lifting eight hundred pounds before a massive audience, an audience of thousands- the kind of audience Jack had always wanted anytime he did anything.
"Would they even wanna be Russians though?" Piggy asked.
"I think Jack would go with anybody who treats him like a big-shot," Ralph answered.
XX
Piggy and Ralph's escape plan was put into action just before midnight, though they had no watches and thus no exact idea of the time. It was a pretty thoughtful plan for one so quickly devised and implemented, and it almost worked.
Almost.
Rapper got up to use the latrine trench and as he came back, he spotted the dark shape of the big raft and two boys pushing it to the water's edge. Rapper shouted in surprise and raced for the nearest shelter, waking up Will and Andy. As the raft started to float away, the three Hunters raced after it, yelling and shouting.
Ralph looked back and saw the three muscle-boys beginning a furious, alarmingly fast front crawl for the raft. He saw them moving much faster than they should have, and realized there wasn't much time.
"Piggy," Ralph said, "let's get out of here! Row, row! Move!"
Swinging the oar as fast as he could, Ralph had time to look back and see the three boys pursuing the raft in the moonlight. It occurred to the teenager that he would have honestly preferred three great white sharks circling the raft over three Hunters swimming for it.
"They're catching up!" Piggy exclaimed, casting terrified glances back. He began to make little grunts and squeals not unlike those of a pig, and Ralph thought briefly of how unfortunate it was that someone so intelligent and mature was so easily made fun of.
The two boys in the raft gave it all they had, but that was far too little compared to the endless reserves of strength the three Hunters put into the chase. The Hunters rapidly closed the gap, and then there was no gap, and Ralph's oar was forcefully ripped away. He let go just in time; had he refused to, he might have lost a finger.
Wordlessly, Rapper seized Ralph's arm and with terrifying strength pulled him overboard and into the ocean. An iron bar closed around Ralph's throat, and he was dragged helplessly along as Rapper used a sidestroke with his left arm to swim back to shore.
Andy, nearby, was doing the same with Piggy, who was just as helpless to do anything about it. Will headed around to the 'front' of the raft and placed his hands against its side. Kicking steadily with his feet, he pushed the raft back in towards the shore, going noticeably faster than Ralph and Piggy had managed with paddles.
Rapper's efforts were not much concerned with Ralph's comfort. Barely able to breathe with Rapper's bulging muscle against his throat, Ralph had his head above water only some of the time. He struggled to take in air, and when he couldn't do that enough, he started sucking in seawater. They made the beach just as it was getting unbearable, and Ralph coughed up the salt water and tried to breathe again. Next to him, Piggy was having the same problems.
Will hauled the big raft ashore all on his own, and distantly Ralph could hear Rapper, Will and Andy all yelling to wake the Chief, wake the Chief. He heard Jack shouting what the hell is going on, I'm trying to sleep, and the three Hunters who'd caught the two escapees giving an explanation.
They'd come so close. Like so many promising plans, it was ruined by one key thing going wrong. For want of a nail, the escape by raft had failed. And Jack, even if he thought a lot of things were dumb, was not dumb enough himself to fail to learn from this. He would make certain the raft was not an option for trying to escape a second time.
It wasn't Piggy's fault. It wasn't Ralph's fault. They just hadn't got enough of a head start before Rapper had spotted them. But knowing that didn't make it any better. Ralph lay there on the sand, soaking wet and absolutely miserable, wishing that this could all just be a nightmare, and that he would wake up.
A/N: 5-30-2017. Completed Chapter 6.
Thank you to all reviewers who have posted something since the upload of Chapter 5.
To the reviewer who asked if I could write a story about- something to do with the Marines- I must say no. This is the first story I have ever written on request, and that is after several years of working with AM83220 on this site. My profile actually has a section that specifically states I do not write on request. Had someone PM me about that just recently, asking me if I write on request. I feel like a college professor telling students to read the syllabus. That isn't meant to be condescending to the readers who ask me. Just a funny thought I had.
AM83220 sent me a new "narrative" to write with yesterday, so this is one of the fastest responses I've ever given him on turning a narrative into a chapter.
12-23-2017; FINALLY completed an update to this chapter that AM83220 asked me to do about 5 months ago.