Chapter 9: The Island

Jane woke early the next morning. The cabin was dimly lit by dawn's first rays peeping through the curtains, but she did not need to open her eyes to know that she was alone in bed. At once, she missed the warmth of her husband's body. She dressed slowly, listening to Cathy's gentle breathing, and kissed her daughter's forehead softly before slipping out of the cabin.

The ship seemed strangely quiet. The engines were still silent as Jane climbed to the bridge. It was a chilly morning, and the vast grey expanse of the sky was clear. She saw her husband standing at the helm, leaning with one hand on the top of the window frame as he often did when tired, staring out over the sea. He glanced over his shoulder as he heard her footsteps, but said nothing.

"Why didn't you come to bed last night?" she asked.

"I was waiting for the fog to clear."

He turned to her at last, his face pale and his blue eyes tired, but looked wordlessly over her shoulder. Following his gaze, she saw it too: the dark mass of an island on the horizon, thrusting its tall, sharp peaks into the sky. A haze seemed to hang in the air around it, as if the fog had yet to fully disperse.

The very sight instilled an immense terror into Jane's heart. For a moment, she stood unmoving, her eyes fixated on the brooding dark shape.

"It could be any island," she said eventually, her voice quivering. "Frederick? We can't say for certain that it's…" Her voice faltered as he met his eyes.

"No compasses are working," he told her in a grave monotone. "It's just like last time. The storm; the fog; the driftwood you saw a few days back – it's beyond doubt. We've been drawn in again, caught up in its traps just like you said we would be." He paused, turning his eyes back to the distant peaks. "We've been blown back to Skull Island."


There was a dim light in Suki's cabin when she opened her eyes, but she knew at once that that had not woken her. She could hear raised voices just outside her cabin, muffled by the wooden walls, and climbed out of her bunk to listen at the door. The voices, she realised at once, were those of the American writer and his glamorous wife.

"I won't believe it, Jack," Ann was saying, "it can't be true."

"Ann…"

"I won't believe it!" she said again, her voice shrill.

Suki hardly dared to breathe, captivated by the exchange occurring outside her door.

"This whole trip has just been one big nightmare," Ann continued, her voice strangely thick, as if she spoke through tears, "and this is the worst part so far. At home, I had terrifying dreams of coming back here… and the children…"

She broke down; Suki could hear her violent sobs through the door. Turning the doorknob, she glanced out. Jack, holding his distraught wife in his arms, met her eyes at once.

"What is it?" she asked.

He simply shook his head wordlessly.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Giving her a dark look, the playwright shook his head and led his wife away. Suki watched them go before dressing hurriedly and heading up onto deck. She met Jane on the steps, and found that even she looked tired and troubled.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Jane, like Jack, simply shook her head and passed by swiftly. Suki stared after her in confusion, before glancing fearfully up the remaining steps, beginning to imagine what sort of horrific sight would meet her at the top. She came up slowly onto deck but all that she saw was a distant island on the horizon. Glancing up at the bridge, she spotted the captain staring out vacantly over the sea towards the island, his countenance stern and unreadable. Her gaze next fell on the crow's nest, in which Jimmy sat. Smiling without knowing it, she began to climb up, certain that he of all people would be willing to talk to her.

"Hello, Jimmy," she said brightly as she came to the top.

He turned to her with a small, thin smile, but said nothing as she settled down beside him.

"Are you going to talk to me, then?" she asked, watching him closely.

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"There's something funny going on. Everybody seems frightened about something, but nobody is willing to explain why."

He nodded towards the island, his eyes dark. "That's why."

"The island? I don't understand."

For a moment he said nothing, simply fiddling absent-mindedly with a fraying end of rope, but slowly began to speak in a low, quiet tone.

"'We are accustomed to look upon the shackled form of a conquered monster, but there – there you could look at a thing monstrous and free.'"

She looked at him blankly. "I'm afraid I don't follow you."

"That's from 'Heart of Darkness'." He paused, still tugging at the rope distractedly. "You might have heard – in about '33 or '34 – about a man called Carl Denham, a film maker. He famously captured a giant ape on a remote, undiscovered island: Skull Island. He brought it back to New York and put it in a stage show on Broadway."

"Of course – who hasn't heard about the magnificent King Kong?" Grinning, she did not appear to notice his solemnity. "At the time, I remember thinking what a stupid idea it was, putting a creature like that on a stage. It was bound to escape, really. And what sort of a captain would be stupid enough to transport it back to America?"

He nodded over her shoulder towards the bridge. "That sort of a captain."

She followed his gaze, frowning in confusion. "You've lost me again."

"Denham blackmailed Captain Englehorn into capturing the ape. Ann Driscoll was the actress the natives abducted, the ape was taken back on this very ship and that," he nodded towards the island again, "is Skull Island."

"Hilarious, Jimmy."

"You think I'm joking?" He cast her a dark glance, but his eyes soon flicked back to the ominous, shadowy landmass on the horizon. "A lot of good men never left that island. You can't even begin to imagine what it was like. In nightmares I've been back there, but I thought I'd escaped forever in reality."

"You lost friends?"

"A very good friend."

Suki took his hand comfortingly, her eyes softened by pity.

"My Hayes was killed when he was leading one of the search parties on the island. I can still see it happening. It was so quick, but in my mind it seems to go on forever – sort of slowed down. I can see him even now, falling into that pit…"

Suki watched him wordlessly, her eyes wide. When next he met her gaze, his eyes were gleaming with tears that tugged painfully at her heart.

"That's why no one wants to talk. Everyone is haunted by their memories of that place."

She nodded in understanding, giving his fingers an affectionate squeeze. "You don't have to go back there," she said. "It's miles away still. We can just sail away and never see it again, can't we?"

Jimmy said nothing, avoiding her eyes.


Jane was in her cabin with her children, cradling Cathy with one arm and stroking her son's hair gently with her other hand. What frightened her most about being so near Skull Island once more was the thought that they were with her, and her greatest fear was that either of her two darlings might come to harm. Last time had been terrible enough, but she had not been a mother then.

The memories were all flooding back to her: fleeing wildly through the jungle; hearing Ann's distant screams in the shadowy village of the natives; the bodies of dead sailors strewn at the bottom of a deep ravine…

"Why are you crying, mum?"

"Crying?" She had not even noticed, and hurriedly wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I'm just being silly, Freddie, don't worry."

He nestled into her, laying his blonde head on her shoulder as he always had done as an infant. Jane felt a painful surge of love for both her son and her daughter and more tears spilled from her eyes. They could not stay here any longer; she would not let them be harmed.

The cabin door opened with a distinctive click and she glanced up to meet her husband's solemn eyes.

"Jane," he murmured, "why these tears?"

"Because I have two such wonderful children," she answered, her voice thick, and she held each one tightly. "Because I have a beautiful angel of a daughter and the best little boy in the world, though he's not so little any more," she added with a small, sad smile, affectionately tapping her son's nose. "Because they are more precious to me than anything else in the world and I love them dearly." She placed a fervent kiss on the top of her son's head, but he squirmed away.

"Mum!" he moaned. "Stop it!"

"Come here, Freddie," his father said, sitting down on his bunk, and the boy willingly did so, though pulled a face as the captain put an arm around him. "You'll be a brave boy, won't you?" his father said. "Your mother is very upset, so I'm relying on you to be a big boy and help me."

"Why is she upset?"

Englehorn met his wife's eyes. "Because mothers get upset sometimes." He paused, and Jane felt a rush of ardent love for him. "Now, why don't you go and ask Carlo for some hot chocolate? He's making lots of it today."

"Should I get some for mum?"

"That's a good idea."

With that, Freddie scampered away and his father took the seat beside his mother.

"I'm frightened, Frederick," she said softly.

"Me too." He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before looking down into the wide, shining eyes of his infant daughter and stroking her rosy cheek with a rough fingertip. "She's a beautiful little thing," he said. "She takes after her mother."

"When are we going to leave this place?" Jane asked suddenly. "I don't want to stay here any longer."

"No compasses on board are working. We'll wait for nightfall and use the stars."

"What about the fog?"

"If we can't find north, we'll sail as straight as we can away from the island and find clear conditions." He met her eyes with a comforting smile. "Everything will work out well," he promised her. "After all, you and I have had more than our fair share of bad luck. I think we're due some good fortune."

She returned the smile, though ruefully. "Those sound like famous last words if ever I heard any."

"Trust me, my love. I would never let any of you come to harm."


It was a still night. But for the gentle lapping of the water, no sounds reached Jimmy's ears as he perched in the crow's nest. Below him, the captain and Mr King were studying the stars in the clear sky, working quickly though the sun had not yet fully set. Even now, the first tendrils of fog were beginning to creep over the sea.

As always, a book was open in his lap, its tattered pages illuminated by the feeble yellow light of a small torch. Tonight he was reading about Captain Nemo once more, though, if truth be told, his mind was elsewhere. A certain pretty New Zealander was occupying his full attention, her dark, glittering eyes ever seeming to hover before his own. Where was she now, he wondered? In her bunk, most probably, and for a moment he pictured her dark hair on the pillow and wondered whether she was thinking of him too.

Suddenly, a flash of movement on deck caught his eye and he sat up quickly. Below, all was still. Had he imagined it? Then he caught another glimpse, and froze. A dark hand was creeping over the railing, followed by a long, thin arm, then a head…

"Natives!" he yelled, fear tearing through him and his heart pounding. "Natives on board!"


A/N: Thank you to my remaining readers for sticking with me. I realised as I was writing this that remarkably little has happened in this story so far, so I decided to add a little bit of excitement at long last. Please review! If you do, I might even upload the next chapter fairly soon...