Chapter Eleven: Twenty Questions


Ralph immediately knew why this boy crawled when Ralph saw him for the first time. He was much taller than Ralph was. Ralph helped him to stand and he leant against the cave. Piggy was still breathing heavily when they emerged. The redhead blinked when he saw the boy.

"Who's this boy with ass-mar?" he asked hoarsely, but its tone still contained haughtiness.

Ralph was taken aback by the use of his personal language. 'Ass-mar' was the thing he made up when he was little, together with one of his relatives. But he immediately sobered up. "He saved you," he said sharply.

The redhead stared at him, his eyes narrowed. They had a long, hard staring contest. Piggy's rapid breathing was the only voice between them. Ralph frowned. He had this tingling feeling… like he had seen this boy somewhere. He couldn't remember, though.

"Thanks," the redhead whispered, breaking the staring contest. He knelt in front of Piggy. "Shut up, Fatty. Stop breathing like you're going to die anytime soon."

"It's Piggy," Ralph said. He didn't intend it as a joke, but merely because he didn't know the fat boy's real name.

The redhead burst in a hoarse laughter. "What a name," he muttered. He looked up at Ralph who knelt next to him, both watching Piggy who was trying to control his breath. "You seem new to me. I don't remember seeing you around. I'm Jack."

"Me neither." Ralph grinned weakly at him. "I'm Ralph. We got stranded after you did."

Jack merely tilted his head. Piggy coughed and finally stopped breathing rapidly. "You okay now?" Ralph asked kindly. Piggy nodded. Jack stood slowly, offering Ralph his hand, which he took. They hauled Piggy together, and for a boy who was detained in a cave for quite a long time, he was surprisingly strong.

"What should we do?" Piggy asked.

Jack's eyes were suddenly as wide as saucers. "I shouldn't be seen. I know where to go," Jack said huskily, then pointed at the huge rock. "We have to put that thing up again."

"We won't be strong enough," Ralph said, frowning at him.

Jack blinked as if he hadn't realised that fact before. "Yeah, yeah, of course you're right." Jack muttered absently. But then his eyes lit up. "I know where to go for a while. But you can't tell this to anyone."

Ralph saw the fierce seriousness on his face and decided they had to act fast. "C'mon. Piggy can go back to the clearing, and I'll go with you."

"Can I come?" Piggy asked softly, obviously wanted to be approved by this boy. Jack seemed like he had some kind of nameless authority in him, which made both Ralph and Piggy wanted to look up at him.

Jack eyed Piggy disapprovingly. Ralph crouched in front of him. "You're tired, Piggy," he said slowly. "Go back to the shelter. I know the littleuns need you right now." He glanced at Jack briefly before lowering his voice. "Especially after what happened. You're the only one with common sense. And stories about a candy shop."

Piggy's face broke into a small smile. "You're right, Ralph. You always do." He stood, and the three of them silently walked down the hill.


Jack waited below the darkness as Ralph and Piggy entered the clearing. It seemed like the place was abandoned. But then his blue eyes caught the sight of the shelters and he couldn't help but to gape. The fire on the middle of it seemed like it had died hours ago, and to make long story short, the clearing seemed dead. To be honest, the whole bloody island seemed dead. It frightened and interested Jack at the same time.

Before they left Piggy, Ralph made him sworn to secrecy, and he wasn't a type of friend who would break his promise. Even Jack could see that.

"Shelters?" he asked quietly as they walked in the forest.

Ralph shrugged. "One of them got a cold. What should I do?"

Jack nodded absently, walking carefully. He hadn't used his legs in ages, after all. "We never cared about it," he whispered.

Ralph stared at him curiously. "You haven't told me about you, y'know," he said.

Jack didn't say anything. After a while walking, he stopped. "We're here," he said, rather bitterly. "But I need to drink. I'm bloody thirsty. Are you sure you want to come?"

Ralph shrugged. "It's okay with me."

"Suit yourself," Jack huffed and they walked towards the river in the forest. The redhead squatted in front of the stream and drank using his hands as a bowl. Ralph eyed him as he drank greedily. If Jack had to hide, he can't be near the river.

"I have this coconut," the blond said. "Samneric gave it to me. I use it to take water."

Jack eyed him incredulously, staring at his torn shirt. "How very civil are you," he said finally.

"You want me to take it?" Ralph offered.

Jack smirked. "That's very nice of you," he said with a tint of sarcasm. Ralph was going to retort when Jack's face broke into a cheeky grin. "No, I'm fine with this. Now, c'mon."

They walked back to the place Jack had said before. Ralph gaped when he realised the familiar surroundings. Jack sat down behind a bush, under a huge rock. Ralph sat next to him, still gobsmacked.

"Shut your mouth," Jack chided. "You look like a dumb blonde."

"Sorry." Ralph grinned weakly. He swallowed the bile in his throat. "This place... Simon always came here. I met him here once, and I sometimes sleep here."

Jack's eyes lit up. "Simon..." he muttered. "Where is he?"

Ralph didn't realise he was crying until Jack told him so. "Simon... that was murder. Jack, they killed Simon. There was a feast... and Simon came out the forest and they just... just..."

Under the moonlight, Jack's face reddened in anger. He jumped so abruptly his legs protested. Ralph caught him just before he fell on his bum on the ground. "He did it again!" the redhead snarled, his anger unbearable.

"Who?" Ralph whispered.

"Roger! That bloody Roger!"

"The Chief?"

Jack narrowed his eyes. "What did you call him?"

"The... Chief?" Ralph said carefully.

Suddenly he was pushed against the rock, Jack's wild eyes in front of him. "Don't call him that. At least not when I'm around."

Ralph slowly nodded, fear tingled in his insides. "It's good you don't have a spear with you."

Jack looked at him with haughty confusion. As if he was confused but felt too high to be confused or something. "What do you mean?"

"You see Piggy's cheek?" Ralph asked. "Roger smacked him with his spear, broke his glasses, and gave that scar. It scared him for ages."

"I've seen that before," Jack said. "Roger did that a lot. I don't know if he does it again when I'm... not around, but if you see... what's his name? The one who has a twin... Eric. His cheek has the same scar as that fat boy has. It's been a long time."

"You haven't told me about you." Ralph stared at him, his curiosity unbearable.

"You haven't told me about you either," Jack said easily, but it was obvious that he was curious about Ralph as much he did the redhead.

"Care to play twenty questions?"

Jack was silent, and Ralph took it as a yes.

"Can you tell me why you were in that cave?"

Jack bit his lip, and that was the first time Ralph saw his control crumbled. "It's a quite long story. But I'll make it short."


Jack knew Roger didn't like him, at least not like he used to. Both knew the Donald incident had shifted their friendship. He sensed a power struggle would emerge between the two of them. He wasn't afraid, though. He knew he had the boys behind his back, and was sure that Roger wouldn't stand a chance. He was their Chief, after all.

But then it happened.

They were hunting. They were running and screaming in the forest. The pig squealed in fear. Jack, who ran in front of all of them, started to sing the song he had made, and was followed immediately.

"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"

"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"

The pig ran towards a lower ground, which was hidden by a huge tree and a huge rock. Jack was going to jump down there when he felt something strong shoved his back. He landed headfirst on the hard ground and everything went dark.


"That's it. I woke up and I was in that sodding cave. I still have a bloody scar on my head for that fall." Jack paused, patting his black cap and scowled. "My turn. How did you get here?"

Ralph just wanted to ask more when he realised that Jack was into the game. So he answered. "Mm," he muttered. He knew it was the first question the redhead would ask. "The plane crashed here. First we thought we were the only one stranded, but then everyone just emerged from nowhere and here we are. Who's Donald?"

Jack inhaled sharply, reluctant to share the dark secret. "The mulberry-marked boy. The first one who saw the Beast and changed everything. The reason all of this happened."


"There was a beastie!"

"What?" Jack asked, rising from his throne in the clearing. He had called an assembly because of this boy, Donald. He had reported that he saw something in the forest, which he referred as a 'beastie'. It was still their first week, for the Queen's sake, and they hadn't even been hunting yet.

Simon walked towards Jack. "Can I have the conch?" he whispered.

Jack gave it to him a bit uncertainly. Who knows what the batty boy will say?

"Maybe there's no beast. Maybe it's only us." Simon said nervously.

Suddenly. Roger stood from the next of Jack's throne. "Who cares at this barmy little slug?" he taunted. Simon blinked and put the conch, looking dreamy as usual.

Jack stared at him oddly. "You don't have the conch, shut up."

Roger sat down again, his face flushed so red it was visible on his dark skin. Jack paid him no heed. He banged his spear against the ground.

"I don't really care of the Beast. We can have fun, for all that bloody beast care! Assembly dismissed."

They cheered. Donald and Roger, however, didn't even open their mouths.


"Donald was crazier than Simon. Although both weren't that close." Jack said. "He kept saying about this beast, so we gave it our first pig's head. I told them to keep having fun, and the bloody Roger didn't like that at all. He never wanted everyone to have fun. Donald was the first one who knew about me."

He paused. "Now, you. Who else?"

"Who else what?" Ralph asked reluctantly, still a bit caught up with the earlier story.

"Who else got stranded besides you and that... Piggy?"

"Percival." Saying that name triggered things in Ralph's mind. His insides burned with anger. "He was close to Simon, before Roger took him as one of his hunters. He and Simon loved drawing school badges."

"My God," Jack exhaled. "Finally that cracked boy got someone who shared his love to civility."

"Why Roger faked your death?"

Jack snorted. "Because I was the Chief. And he hates my bloody guts." He was silent for a while. "We used to be great together. And then our ship sank and we got stranded like we're Robinson Crusoe or something. I have nobody to talk to, so I spent my time to think. Cherishing pasts, usually."

"You know anything about your past?"

"Not much, but more than any other boys in here, I'm sure. I didn't have anything useful to do, anyway. Why did you set me free? Roger told everyone I'm the Beast and nobody can go near the cave. I think you know that too."

"It was Simon's last wish. I talked to... to... someone and knew it."

Jack's eyes widened. "I just can't imagine they... they did it. Simon's the only one who knew the truth behind Roger's secret. He was the only one remained."

"Remained?" Ralph gaped at him. "Have they done this before?"

"Done what?"

"What they've done to Simon."

Jack was silent for a moment. "Well, since our fun in this bloody place's been screwed up, I don't think it'd be wrong to tell you. Yes, they did. We called it the Donald incident. Roger bloody killed him for being near the 'Beast'."


Jack was staring to the usual darkness of the cave when he heard something outside. He knew who owned the noise. His lips curled into a small smile. The boy with the odd mark on his face—Donald—always came to him, and they would talk in small voices.

He never cared about that boy before, but now... trapped alone in the cave, he accepted the barmy boy company eventually.

"Halt! Who goes there?!"

Jack eyes widened. He didn't know Roger was there. He could hear Donald trying to scamper away, but apparently he failed.

"Fancy meeting you here, little sod," Roger hissed. "Do you know where you are?"

"I know!" Donald shrieked. Judging from his voice, Jack knew Roger was gripping his battered shirt's collar. The former chief banged his fists at the stone wall, but no avail.

"Tell me then."

"Chief's in there! You're not Chief! Chief's in there!"

Jack gulped. Even he, the fearless Jack, felt the fear of what would happen.

Roger growled loudly. "I'm the Chief! REMEMBER THAT! I'M THE CHIEF! JACK'S AS GOOD AS DEAD NOW!"

There was a startling noise. It was so shocking that Jack gasped.

Roger had thrown Donald off the hill.

"You, Jack," he said slowly. "Talk to another boy and I'll burn your lovely cave. You'd love it, really. The only holes where I provide you with food and drinks... filled with fire and smoke. Imagine yourself die, Jack. That can put a smile on my face for days. But no... I don't want you to die. Yet. Until then, have fun."

Then his footsteps became further and further Jack couldn't hear him anymore.

But slowly, other footsteps were heard. Jack jumped when he heard a whisper of a voice he always heard in the choir he vaguely remembered.

"I saw everything. I know, Jack."

Simon.


Jack took a deep breath. "Still, why he had to be so batty. Nobody dared to go there but him and Simon."

"And Simon tried to tell us about you," Ralph mused. "He took Percival to the forest and he went back telling me that he heard the beastie."

"Now look what happened to them."

"But you liked his company."

Jack had no comeback for that. They were silent for a while, before Jack's blue eyes lit up in amusement for the first time. "My turn, now. Was it you who go bonkers when Roger threw meat to your head? I heard you."

Ralph sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, it was me."

Jack laughed. He laughed so loud Ralph was afraid someone would hear them. "I used to do that, y'know. Throwing meat to ungrateful brats."

"So you're calling me an ungrateful brat?"

"You obviously acted like one," Jack said, still amused. At the redhead's amused face Ralph was forced to laugh as well.

They were silent afterwards, not finding anything else to talk to. It wasn't long until they both fell unto a deep, sheer exhaustion. They even didn't care about the sunrise. They were shadowed by the tree and the rock they knew they would be safe. And Ralph knew, for the first time since he got stranded, that he had found someone equal to him to talk to.


A/N: I hate this chapter of you ask me. It obviously lacks something, and I'm bad at descriptions. Believe it or not, I fixed this part about 7 times and still dissatisfied. But I hope you like it! Feel free to tell me what I'm lacked at, and I'd do my best to fix it. Still, this is unbeta'd. :)

The name Donald for The Mulberry-Marked Boy was taken from LOTF 1963's site.