Chapter 10

"Our camp has only three rules.

One. We do not associate with Annabelle or any of her pathetic gang.

Two. You do not speak ill of your leader. That'd be me.

And Three. We. Must. Have. Fun. We're the hunters-we kill because it's fun. What we kill, we eat, and we don't share with the rest of them We let them suffer while we enjoy ourselves. Got it?"

No one dared speak up against their new chief as Jack's piercing blue eyes went around staring at each of them in turn. Only Hazell seemed brave enough to stare back, all the while grinning and licking her pink lips in excitement. It was getting to an almost freakish level, the way she revered him. But, it was exactly what Jack had wanted.

Wasn't it?

"I said, do you understand?"

The hunters didn't hesitate before nodding their heads ferociously up and down, and shouting out, "Yes, Jack, we understand!"
"Oh, and you'll all refer to me as chief Jack," he added after a quick thought. Again, echoes of "Yes, chief Jack," rang out all around the small circle, the wild voices seeming to bounce all the way across the beach. Good, he thought smugly, I hope it reaches all the way to Annabelle's ear. I hope it makes her realize that I'm the one they chose, not her. That I'm the true leader. None of the stupid, ignorant children left in her camp mattered-he'd only lost Roger, a skillful hunter but now a traitor, and Mathalina, whom he tried to think of as nothing more than dirt on the back of his soles, although even as dirt she'd be beautiful. Responsively, Jack spat on the sand under his foot. No matter how hot that bitch was, she was dead to him now. Mathalina had made the mistake of choosing Roger, and now she'd pay for her wrongs just as much as Annabelle, and the rest of them. God, they were all so goody-goody, all of them! They just loved Annabelle to death, and couldn't possibly leave her for him. A small, invalidated part of him envied the girl's strong management and control over those kids, those normal kids who chose to follow Annabelle out of loyalty. Jack knew that the idiots that surrounded him now, chanting his name and calling him chief, were only doing it for the meat, for the hunting. They were clueless. He'd gotten the stupid bunch of the lot. But they were still kids, after all. They couldn't resist the fun of killing dumb little pigs, the thrill of taking the life of something even smaller and weaker than them. And Jack could use that to his advantage.

As the leader looked back up, he saw his hunters waiting for him to continue. He blushed for a moment, only now realizing there was nothing more for him to say. He knew Annabelle would go on and on about some crap about food, or water, or making shelters or whatever. His heart sank as he comprehended the fact that they'd have to build shelters and a fire all over again. That could take up a whole day, maybe more of their precious hunting time. They had no matches left, but hadn't it been Jack who'd started the first fire at the old camp? If he'd done it before, he could do it again.

"Um…alright, everyone get working! Do…do what you usually do. Or something. Whatever. I'm going to make a fire." As he bent down on the ground and began to make a pit, he was washed over by a feeling of defeat-the worst feeling in the world. He remembered now: that irritating Lucy had been the one to successfully create a fire by rubbing two sticks together on that first day. Begrudgingly, he attempted to do the same thing, with little success-and kneeling on the sand, pathetically grinding the twigs against each other as fast as his blistering hands could twirl them between the palms, he had an infuriating sense that his new supposed-to-be superior role as the leader wasn't offering him much superiority. Jack crinkled his nose, frustrated, but continued rubbing the sticks, for he knew that making a fire was crucial for his new camp's survival. As he squatted awkwardly, Jack slowly began to comprehend, if only a little, just what Annabelle's job was really like-and a tiny part of the hunters' chief wondered if being in charge was really worth it.

Wiping the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand, Annabelle bent forward and finger-counted the day's forest haul-nine coconuts, eleven papayas, five banana bunches, and a handful of mysterious dark purple berries (picked by Tessarose.) The numbers were small, she knew, and these wouldn't feed their now group of 8 for long. But Roger and Maurice were supposed to be coming back with their catch from the sea soon. That should be enough to get them by at least for the next two days.

It was hard to believe they had gone from 24 people, all the way down to 8: Annabelle, Tessarose, Joelle, Maurice, Roger, Mathalina, Lucy, and Caitlin remained in her camp. With the sudden disappearance of Ruby and Rosaline, however, Annabelle was still uneasy about her group's loyalty to her. Could she really count on them to stay on the beach, with her, when she'd barely been able to take care of herself the last few weeks? She was picking herself up again, yes. But things were never going to be quite as easy as before with Jack and his hunters, also known as their primary source of food, gone. They were now residing in a new camp inside the forest, on the other side of the island. At least she wouldn't have to see or hear Jack's condescending, rude, and violent demeanor anymore. She had to wonder sometimes, though…was it possible that he really was totally and completely evil inside? Could there be a chance that there was still a tiny, tiny bit of sanity inside the vicious hunter? No one could truly be that bad, certainly not a 15-year old boy-could they?

A thud of weight landing right in front of Annabelle startled her back into reality. She looked up straight into the tanned, well-built bare chests of two teenage boys-Roger and Maurice- who had just dropped a hand-made net full of fish at her feet. Maurice grinned in triumph. The boy, who'd barely had any muscles a month ago, had acquired a fully developed set from all the tedious work on the island; but he was still thin in comparison to before-everyone was. Everyone's skin had also darkened under the constant heat of the tropical sun. Annabelle looked down at her own growling stomach, which was sporting a golden tan, and three times flatter than it had been on her first day here. She knew she wasn't the only one hungry. She knew they were all learning to live on very small amounts of food. If being fat had been a problem for her before, or anyone else on the island for that matter, well, things were certainly a lot different.

Ignoring the saliva collecting in her mouth at the sight of freshly caught fish, she began picking through the pile exemplarily.

"The fish must've liked us today," said Maurice excitedly. "We caught a huge load. Just look at this-look at this, Annabelle! This whole pile must weigh a ton!" Taking a small fish from the net, he looked around, and spotted his girlfriend. He waved it straight into Joelle's face, who shrieked in both horror and laughter. "Stop it-stop it, Maurice!" she squealed, giggling as her boyfriend lovingly wrapped his arm around her waist.

As Maurice quickly forgot about the high mound of fish, and the couple began making their way towards a private log, Roger jogged away as well, towards Mathalina. Watching the two meet with lifting faces and bright eyes, Annabelle could see just how strange the idea of couples was in their situation-she could now safely assume that Mathalina and Roger were involved in some kind of romantic way, as she'd seen them go off together alone several times- yet the fact that love of any form could exist on a deserted island made her feel just a bit better.

Grunting, she lifted the heavy sack of fish with both arms. It had been a long day. An even longer few weeks. Taking care of so many other people for over a month had been exhausting work for a 15-year old. At least now, the number had shrunk and the people left were working harder than ever. Maybe it's lucky that the hunters left, she almost thought. All the unhelpful people gone, and only the responsible people left. They can have all their fun hunting pigs and leave us alone, and we can all live on the same island peacefully. It's a win-win situation.

Almost.

The smallest rustle in the trees alerted Mathalina like a wild feline on a hunt.

Her left ear perking up naturally, it led the way as her head spun around, picking up each little sound. Her ears had been trained to do this-her mind programmed to hear and see everything. For she never knew what dangers could surround her, trapping her alone in the center as quick as a flash…

Suddenly, her blood rushed cold all through her veins. Could it be…could it be-

"GOTCHA!"

As she screamed, her boyfriend Roger pounced on her with a triumphant roar.

"Roger!" She was both shocked and pleased to see him, whose arms were now wrapped around her whole body.

"Wow. I've , uh, never heard you scream, Mathalina." Grinning, he attempted to pick her up-this time, however, she was fully prepared. Rapidly swinging one silky leg under his muscular one, she hooked onto it and used it to anchor herself down before he could lift her up. In contrary, it was Roger who fell forward, landing right on top of Mathalina with a loud grunt.

"Ooof!"

Her eyes now gleamed with wicked delight.

"I got you this time."

"Alright, alright, fair enough." Roger didn't seem to want to argue anymore. Good. "I've never seen you do anything like that, either. Are you usually like this?"

"What do you think?" Her sultry whisper sealed the mood as they closed the gap between them, kissing fiercely with one body on top of the other. They slowly got to their feet, lifting one leg, one knee at a time, and as always, never unlocking their lips. Since their first kiss, they'd become even more harmonious, having learned to move in sync. Even when they were fully standing, they could not stop kissing, couldn't keep their arms from leaving each other's bodies. Their moves became wild-black hair entangling as their hands moved madly across their faces, their chests, their necks. Only when Mathalina leaned away, taking a big gasp of breath, did they finally stop.

"Wait here," Roger suddenly said.

"What-"

Without explanation, he scurried to a nearby bush. Working with his fingers on something, he yanked and pulled out a fully bloomed, yellow flower. Returning, he tucked the blossom behind Mathalina's ear, the stem disappearing into the mass of midnight black hair.

"I love you," he whispered, seducing her with each word. He leaned in closer. "I desire you. I need you. You're everything." Suddenly, he broke out of his deep, alluring trance and swung the unsuspecting girl into his arm. In a classic salsa dance move, her body fell back and contorted gracefully. Snapping her head back up, Mathalina smiled a small, coy smile, before leaping up and back into his both arms.

"I love everything about you," she returned, edging her lips and her nose and her dark eyes closer and closer to him. Their faces met, and without any more doubts or hesitation, their lips plunged into each other once more.

And here they were once again, talking like old times on the beach, sitting on one log with swinging legs and Caitlin jabbering away like her usual, innocent, clueless self.

Only Lucy knew things would never be the same.

"You know if we stay here one more month, it'll be summer vacation? So we won't even be missing any school. Not that I dislike school…it's nice being around people, wandering those hallways, getting lost with yourself. Isn't it, Lucy?"

"School is the last place I want to get back to," Lucy replied simply. "I do not miss anyone, student or teacher, from that place."

"Well, unfortunately for you, when we get rescued, we're all going to have to go back," said Caitlin matter-of-factly. "Like it or not, Lucy, we're still going to be freshmen next year." Her eyes suddenly brightened, smiling. "What do you think high school's going to be like?"

Lucy looked at Caitlin. Grey eyes turned into stone, narrowing dangerously as they looked straight into the young girl. You poor, naïve, thing. Do you not get that this is our life now?

"Caitlin. We're not getting rescued. Not for a long time, maybe not ever-not if these stupid children don't find a way to get along. And keep that fire going!" Lucy sputtered, ending with a cry. Unintended tears spilled out of one eye. She wiped at it fiercely. She wasn't about to cry, not in front of her only friend.

"It's okay, Lucy." To make matters worse, Caitlin laid a hand on her shoulder, her soft blue eyes reassuring and filled with sympathy. No, just don't. Don't do this. Don't be your innocent, sweet, optimistic self, because it's NOT going to help!

"We will be rescued," Caitlin said firmly. "They're looking for us, right now, because we have people who love us. Like your parents, and mine. And once they find us, maybe we'll even get to go on our trip." She smiled here, the corners of her eyes crinkling at the happy thought. "The one we were supposed to be on before we got here. We could go together."

That was it. That was enough to shoot Lucy's body up from the log, fuming with exasperation and anguish. Her infuriated look alarmed Caitlin, her ever-positive smile melting into a gape.

"Caitlin!" Lucy shouted, exploding in frustration. "We are NOT going on a trip. We were never going on a trip! That's what I've been trying to tell you, what I've been trying to tell everyone this whole time! You're all so, so, so OBLIVIOUS!" She threw her hands in the air at a loss of words. "Haven't you been paying attention to the news, or to the war in England? I overheard the education administrators in a meeting the week before- we were being evacuated. The Spanish army is coming, and they were planning on bombing our area first. We were in the biggest target zone! That's why we were being evacuated to Washington! How can none of you have realized? How could you possibly not notice, how sudden this random, school-wide trip was, and the fact that we came here on private jets, instead of on a normal airline. Didn't anybody even suspect anything?!"

Caitlin's eyes were wide with shock, intensely staring into Lucy's burning grey ones. Her mouth seemed to have formed a permanent O shape.

"I…I, I just…I mean I never knew…"

"Of course you didn't." With a small, triumphant smile, Lucy stood up. "I knew it all along, and you didn't have a clue. Neither did anyone else on this island, for that matter. And what does that tell you? That goody Annabelle, or Jackass, pardon the pun, or any of those other idiots are fit to take care of us?" She put her hand comfortingly on the girl's tiny shoulder, never taking her sympathizing eyes off of her. "Listen to me, Caitlin. You and I, we're on our own here. We can't depend on anybody, okay? I can help you, and you can help me. We're in this together. We don't need Annabelle, or anyone else telling us what to do, or how to do it. Not when they can't do any better either. But I can. You're my friend, right? You know I can take care of us, right? So what do you say, Caitlin? Do you want to come live with me?"

Time went by too quickly sometimes for Mathalina.

Despite the darkness, with the light breeze blowing her glossy midnight hair away from her eye, she could see clearer than ever as she stared out into the night. She had visited the lake once again, hoping for a clear mind, but even at her private oasis, every bit of it was filled with the prophecy. Letting out a curt breath of frustration, she stepped off the gleaming-smooth rock she had chosen to perch upon tonight. Two bare feet landed on the soft grass, wet with beads of dew here and there. Lately, having Roger with her had given her some distraction from her grandiose task at hand. But it was another one of those nights-those sleepless nights where some part of Mathalina's head was telling her the happiness wouldn't last much longer.

No. I refuse to accept that.

But you know it'll have to happen sometime, the voice said.

Not now. Soon, but not now. And not to Roger.

He won't be excepted from it. You can't control his, or anyone else's destiny.

A prophecy. That's just what it was. It wasn't destiny. It wasn't their future.

Besides, she tried to think, we still have a chance. Together we're strong, and powerful, and no one can stop us. No one can kill us. Certainly not any of these children who are left.

Mathalina swallowed. Thinking about how few of them were left to take care of only brought to mind how close they were to the end. How little time they might have until she and Rogers' plausible destruction. However, the desolate thought also reminded her of her more favorable possibility-their happy ending.

Happy ending, she repeated to herself, chuckling. Mathalina'd never been one to believe in such things. But this time, it was looking more and more like a probability rather than a prophecy, as the numbers began counting down.

And she and Roger were in it for the win.

There were 16 of them left.

Only 16 left.

Game on.

END OF PART 1