Yeah, I don't own these characters. If I did, not only would my name be famous and feared by all challenge students, but I would be sitting on a buttload of money. So, sorry bout using Ralph and Jack and Samneric n the others...
At length the guard climbed down. The two that remained seemed nothing more than a dark extension of the rock. A star appeared behind them and was momentarily eclipsed by some movement.
Ralph edged forward, feeling his way over the uneven surface as though he were blind. There were miles of vague water at his right and the restless ocean lay under his left hand, as awful as the shaft of a pit. Every minute the water breathed round the death rock and flowered in to a field of whiteness. Ralph crawled until he found the ledge of the entry in his grasp. The lookouts were immediately above him and he could see the end of a spear projecting over the rock.
He called very gently.
"Samneric-"
There was no reply. To carry he must speak louder; and this would rouse those striped and inimical creatures from their feasting by the fire. He set his teeth and started to climb, finding the holds by touch. The stick that had supported a skull hampered him but he would not be parted from his only weapon. He was nearly level with the twins before he spoke again.
"Samneric-"
He heard a cry and a flurry from the rock. The twins had grabbed each other and were gibbering.
"It's me, Ralph."
Terrified that they would run and give the alarms, he hauled himself up until his head and shoulders stuck over the top. Far below his armpit he saw the luminous flowering round the rock.
"It's only me. Ralph."
At length they bent forward and peered in his face.
"We thought it was-"
"-we didn't know what it was-"
"-we thought-"
Shameful of his new loyalty, yet scared of discovery, Sam leaned forward urgently.
"You got to go, Ralph! If they find you here-"
Eric looked fearfully behind him, and then agreed resolutely.
"-you don't know them, Ralph, you better go-"
Ralph leaned on his arms and did not go.
"I came to see you two."
The twins shook their heads and struggled with the warning, glancing about nervously.
"You got to go because it's not safe-"
"-the chief and Roger-"
"-yes, Roger-"
"they hate you, Ralph. They're going to do you."
"It's a trap, Ralph. If they catch you-"
But it was too late. Suddenly, with a flurry of fallen leaves, painted savages lined the rock, each with spear in hand, and many with torches.
Ralph hesitated, caught in the hostile light, looking at the assembled tribe.
"Ralph- go- go- they're going to catch you-"
Galvanized by Samneric's whispers, Ralph silently fled. He climbed down, searching frantically for holds in the stacked blocks of pink rock. The way was hard, but with speed born of desperation, he scrambled to the base, falling the last few feet.
ON the rock, Samneric sat together, whimpering in fear. The tribe made no move but to gather at the edge of the rock. Looking down, they were framed against the sky, which seemed suddenly clouded and absent of all light.
A noise behind Ralph made him spin and look around. Slowly, Jack emerged from the deep shadows.
"Come to join us, Ralph?" he asked, the sinister, cracked smile painted on his face glowing slightly in the night.
Ralph made no reply, but flew into the woods. Behind him, Jack shouted orders to his tribe before starting in pursuit.
All through the night Ralph ran. Dodging around trees, leaping over creeks, he dashed around the forest leaving a winding track. He was bone-weary and his injuries increased by the minute, but the sound of the savages drove him as they yelled to each other, following his trail by the light of the torches.
Hour after hour, his heart beat wildly as he raced for survival. He knew it was futile; wherever he went on the island, the tribe would find him. When he slept, they would capture him. They were too many- and he, Ralph, too tired, too scared, too few.
Then, a burst of fire lit up the night. The screams increased as a tree erupted in flames, ignited by a careless torchbearer. Ralph gasped and breathed in a lungful of smoke, choking and stumbling. He ran towards an area of fewer trees, tears coursing down his face as the blaze spread from tree to tree behind him.
Ralph rushed through the last trees, brushing away creepers and stopped with a cry.
Arced before his stood Jack and a contingent of savages.
They stood on the beach between Ralph and the ocean, painted in their glory, holding aloft spears and torches.
Ralph fell to his knees in despair, his chest heaving as he choked down sobs. This was it, the end; they had killed Piggy- and Simon- and he would be next.
Jack stepped forward, Roger following a step behind. Light from the torch in Roger's hand, the few burning trees, and the slowly rising sun illuminated the new chief.
"Run, Ralph, run, as fast as you can." Jack smiled as the words came back, words from the world they had once belonged to. "We caught you, Ralph.
He took another step forward. The clay was beginning to run from his body, transforming the painted designs to a gruesome jumble of colors. "Do you want fire, Ralph? We can give you fire."
Jack held up the remains of Piggy's smashed specs. With a frightening smile, he dropped them- and gave an unearthly yell.
Immediately the tribe's torches were thrown into the forest. The dry undergrowth caught quickly, the crackling sounding like the manic chatter of squirrels, or of terrified littleuns. Trees blossomed into exotic flowers of red, orange, yellow, sparks leaping like falling petals.
Ralph watched the conflagration wearily. When he turned back to the tribe, he felt suddenly wise to the ways of the world.
"It's all a game to you, isn't it? Destruction doesn't bother you, even killing doesn't anymore." Bile rose in his throat, and he struggled to keep it down. "You think you don't care if you're never rescued; being here is just a big sport-"
He was interrupted by sniggers and the silver laughter of the tribe. Jack stood contemptuously before him, regarding Ralph as something to be pitied.
"Stop that! You listen to me!" Silence. "You wait. You wait till you get older, and you start fighting with each other. Wait till you get tired of dances and chants. Wait till you get old and gray, and start dying off one by one. You know you'll die, don't you? You en't immortal. You en't any different from Simon, or Piggy, or the littleun. And-and-you en't any different from me.
Then, as the fire grew behind him, encompassing the trees on the border of the beach, Ralph found that the tribe had grown mute. And that he was still grasping the stick in his hands. The stick sharpened at both ends, which had once held a pig's head.
He dropped it, rose warily and walked towards the water. The tribe parted before him, interested, curious, knowing he could not go far. Even Jack, after a small start, allowed him to pass untouched.
Ralph paused at the water's edge. He turned to look at the island, now entirely aflame. The small band of savages came closer and closer.
"Where are the others?" Ralph asked, his voice cracking. "Did you just leave them in there?"
With that, he turned and dove into the water.
And the other boys, as if finally realizing the heinous crimes they had committed, murmured fearfully. Turning to face the burning trees, they slowly backed away, unable to face the truth of what they had done.
And one by one, they joined Ralph swimming in the ocean, almost like carefree boys released of any guilt. But no words were spoken, no play fights were acted out; they were merely swimming around the island bay.
The sun rose higher, as did the inferno. Yet no eyes were directed towards the island. All were looking at the horizon, and the ship coming towards them.
It drew up just outside of shallow waters. People crowded on the deck, gazing at the strange view: boys in the waters of an uninhabited island, which was now blazed as if a second sun.
The boys were pulled out of the water. Some had scraps of clothing, some were stark naked. All were in desperate need of a bath and haircut. But they looked otherwise like normal, healthy, young boys aged anywhere from ten to twelve, and a few around six. Some had scratches and bruises, especially an older one who sat apart from the others. He and a large redhead were the only ones who had spoken since getting on the boat.
Jack had answered the first query from the adults. "We crashed. In a plane."
Standing at the deck rail, Ralph took a final look at the island. "Simon...we're getting back where we came from."
At length the guard climbed down. The two that remained seemed nothing more than a dark extension of the rock. A star appeared behind them and was momentarily eclipsed by some movement.
Ralph edged forward, feeling his way over the uneven surface as though he were blind. There were miles of vague water at his right and the restless ocean lay under his left hand, as awful as the shaft of a pit. Every minute the water breathed round the death rock and flowered in to a field of whiteness. Ralph crawled until he found the ledge of the entry in his grasp. The lookouts were immediately above him and he could see the end of a spear projecting over the rock.
He called very gently.
"Samneric-"
There was no reply. To carry he must speak louder; and this would rouse those striped and inimical creatures from their feasting by the fire. He set his teeth and started to climb, finding the holds by touch. The stick that had supported a skull hampered him but he would not be parted from his only weapon. He was nearly level with the twins before he spoke again.
"Samneric-"
He heard a cry and a flurry from the rock. The twins had grabbed each other and were gibbering.
"It's me, Ralph."
Terrified that they would run and give the alarms, he hauled himself up until his head and shoulders stuck over the top. Far below his armpit he saw the luminous flowering round the rock.
"It's only me. Ralph."
At length they bent forward and peered in his face.
"We thought it was-"
"-we didn't know what it was-"
"-we thought-"
Shameful of his new loyalty, yet scared of discovery, Sam leaned forward urgently.
"You got to go, Ralph! If they find you here-"
Eric looked fearfully behind him, and then agreed resolutely.
"-you don't know them, Ralph, you better go-"
Ralph leaned on his arms and did not go.
"I came to see you two."
The twins shook their heads and struggled with the warning, glancing about nervously.
"You got to go because it's not safe-"
"-the chief and Roger-"
"-yes, Roger-"
"they hate you, Ralph. They're going to do you."
"It's a trap, Ralph. If they catch you-"
But it was too late. Suddenly, with a flurry of fallen leaves, painted savages lined the rock, each with spear in hand, and many with torches.
Ralph hesitated, caught in the hostile light, looking at the assembled tribe.
"Ralph- go- go- they're going to catch you-"
Galvanized by Samneric's whispers, Ralph silently fled. He climbed down, searching frantically for holds in the stacked blocks of pink rock. The way was hard, but with speed born of desperation, he scrambled to the base, falling the last few feet.
ON the rock, Samneric sat together, whimpering in fear. The tribe made no move but to gather at the edge of the rock. Looking down, they were framed against the sky, which seemed suddenly clouded and absent of all light.
A noise behind Ralph made him spin and look around. Slowly, Jack emerged from the deep shadows.
"Come to join us, Ralph?" he asked, the sinister, cracked smile painted on his face glowing slightly in the night.
Ralph made no reply, but flew into the woods. Behind him, Jack shouted orders to his tribe before starting in pursuit.
All through the night Ralph ran. Dodging around trees, leaping over creeks, he dashed around the forest leaving a winding track. He was bone-weary and his injuries increased by the minute, but the sound of the savages drove him as they yelled to each other, following his trail by the light of the torches.
Hour after hour, his heart beat wildly as he raced for survival. He knew it was futile; wherever he went on the island, the tribe would find him. When he slept, they would capture him. They were too many- and he, Ralph, too tired, too scared, too few.
Then, a burst of fire lit up the night. The screams increased as a tree erupted in flames, ignited by a careless torchbearer. Ralph gasped and breathed in a lungful of smoke, choking and stumbling. He ran towards an area of fewer trees, tears coursing down his face as the blaze spread from tree to tree behind him.
Ralph rushed through the last trees, brushing away creepers and stopped with a cry.
Arced before his stood Jack and a contingent of savages.
They stood on the beach between Ralph and the ocean, painted in their glory, holding aloft spears and torches.
Ralph fell to his knees in despair, his chest heaving as he choked down sobs. This was it, the end; they had killed Piggy- and Simon- and he would be next.
Jack stepped forward, Roger following a step behind. Light from the torch in Roger's hand, the few burning trees, and the slowly rising sun illuminated the new chief.
"Run, Ralph, run, as fast as you can." Jack smiled as the words came back, words from the world they had once belonged to. "We caught you, Ralph.
He took another step forward. The clay was beginning to run from his body, transforming the painted designs to a gruesome jumble of colors. "Do you want fire, Ralph? We can give you fire."
Jack held up the remains of Piggy's smashed specs. With a frightening smile, he dropped them- and gave an unearthly yell.
Immediately the tribe's torches were thrown into the forest. The dry undergrowth caught quickly, the crackling sounding like the manic chatter of squirrels, or of terrified littleuns. Trees blossomed into exotic flowers of red, orange, yellow, sparks leaping like falling petals.
Ralph watched the conflagration wearily. When he turned back to the tribe, he felt suddenly wise to the ways of the world.
"It's all a game to you, isn't it? Destruction doesn't bother you, even killing doesn't anymore." Bile rose in his throat, and he struggled to keep it down. "You think you don't care if you're never rescued; being here is just a big sport-"
He was interrupted by sniggers and the silver laughter of the tribe. Jack stood contemptuously before him, regarding Ralph as something to be pitied.
"Stop that! You listen to me!" Silence. "You wait. You wait till you get older, and you start fighting with each other. Wait till you get tired of dances and chants. Wait till you get old and gray, and start dying off one by one. You know you'll die, don't you? You en't immortal. You en't any different from Simon, or Piggy, or the littleun. And-and-you en't any different from me.
Then, as the fire grew behind him, encompassing the trees on the border of the beach, Ralph found that the tribe had grown mute. And that he was still grasping the stick in his hands. The stick sharpened at both ends, which had once held a pig's head.
He dropped it, rose warily and walked towards the water. The tribe parted before him, interested, curious, knowing he could not go far. Even Jack, after a small start, allowed him to pass untouched.
Ralph paused at the water's edge. He turned to look at the island, now entirely aflame. The small band of savages came closer and closer.
"Where are the others?" Ralph asked, his voice cracking. "Did you just leave them in there?"
With that, he turned and dove into the water.
And the other boys, as if finally realizing the heinous crimes they had committed, murmured fearfully. Turning to face the burning trees, they slowly backed away, unable to face the truth of what they had done.
And one by one, they joined Ralph swimming in the ocean, almost like carefree boys released of any guilt. But no words were spoken, no play fights were acted out; they were merely swimming around the island bay.
The sun rose higher, as did the inferno. Yet no eyes were directed towards the island. All were looking at the horizon, and the ship coming towards them.
It drew up just outside of shallow waters. People crowded on the deck, gazing at the strange view: boys in the waters of an uninhabited island, which was now blazed as if a second sun.
The boys were pulled out of the water. Some had scraps of clothing, some were stark naked. All were in desperate need of a bath and haircut. But they looked otherwise like normal, healthy, young boys aged anywhere from ten to twelve, and a few around six. Some had scratches and bruises, especially an older one who sat apart from the others. He and a large redhead were the only ones who had spoken since getting on the boat.
Jack had answered the first query from the adults. "We crashed. In a plane."
Standing at the deck rail, Ralph took a final look at the island. "Simon...we're getting back where we came from."