Return to Skull Island
CHAPTER TWO
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A/N: Slash? (And no, this is not a review reply). A few people asked me if this story would be slash. I'm not a huge fan of slash and I don't usually write it. As of now, this story probably won't be, but my stories tend to write themselves and it may turn into slash later on.
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Jimmy stumbled along an overgrown path, his mind reeling. Perhaps he was dreaming. Maybe he had fallen from the crow's nest, hit his head, and was imagining that he was back on Skull Island. It felt impossible.
His orders had been vague: Go onto the island and scout around for anything that could be useful in repairing the ship. He had protested, but of course no one had listened to the boy who was slurring with weariness.
He saw nothing that looked remotely useful unless the crew planned on cutting down the enourmous trees that had once held Kong. He supposed that the natives wouldn't be too fond of that idea. At the thought of the natives, he shivered. They could be anywhere, now, watching him, waiting for the right moment to pounce…
He clenched his fists in an attempt to stop thinking. It would be best not to think of anything that had happened on this godforsaken island. He had just stopped having nightmares about it.
Maybe, he realized, he had fallen from the crow's nest, died, and gone straight to hell.
He heard a twig snap and nearly tripped over a root as he jumped, startled. He stopped and scanned the woods, but there was no one around.
Probably a critter, he reassured himself. Or maybe a giant, man-eating worm.
The tiny hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and he shivered again. He could picture the natives, their stringy hair swinging around their creased and silent faces as they crept noiselessly behind him. Their bloodshot eyes would follow every move of his body as he stumbled through their forest. Their mouths would twist into gruesome scowls and they would grunt like wild animals as they killed him.
He stopped and forced himself to take a deep breath. Maybe he was reading too much. His imagination was much too active, and he was simply scaring himself. But he was not a coward, and would not act like one.
A bug pricked the back of his neck and he raised a hand to slap it. Seeing something in the corner of his eye, he stopped suddenly and dropped his hand. He turned slowly.
The native that held the spear did not lower it from Jimmy's neck as he cackled. He called something to the surrounding bushes, and with barely a rustle, Jimmy was surrounded. They were just as he had pictured them, and he bit back a cry of fear.
He struggled a little bit as they tied his arms behind his back with a coarse, dark rope, but he knew he had no chance. Their spears alone outnumbered him, not to mention the natives that wielded them.
The tallest native grabbed his trussed hands and shoved him forward. His arms complained and he stumbled forward to keep up. They walked like this for some time, though Jimmy couldn't have measured it. He tried to break free a few times, but each time the native's calloused hands held fast and the others threatened him with spears. He gave up when an ugly old man jabbed him hard enough in the side to draw blood.
It seemed odd that they wanted him alive. The reception he got when they arrived to the native's central area was odder still. A shout went up, and many hands hustled to pull him and touch him. They fingered his clothes and prodded his face. He let out a drawn-out noise of disgust but there were still far too many to fight.
He noticed a group of crew members cowering against a group of rocks, guarded by a few natives. He looked at them closely, trying his best to ignore the group of natives that still surrounded him All of the men were new, replacements for those who had died during their last trip to Skull Island. He wondered what had happened to those who had already come to the island, but he already had a fairly good idea.
The natives were probably going to kill him.
You are not a coward, he told himself sternly. Not a coward. Not a coward.
He repeated this to himself even as they piled wood on their fire and began to pound on heavy drums. It became a chant in his mind as they pushed him toward the flames.
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Englehorn was, for the moment, unsure of what to do. He looked past the wall to the flickering light, sighed, and turned to his ship. His crew obviously needed help, but he couldn't leave his ship to sink either.
He tried to plan out the possibilities in his head. He could take everyone that was currently working on repairs and attack the natives. But that would leave the ship unguarded and, in any case, there were too few crew members for a successful attack on the natives, guns or no guns.
But he couldn't leave his crew to the island people; he hadn't even been able to leave Carl Denham to the natives.
He rubbed his forehead with his good arm. Time was running out.
"Sir!" someone said. It was Miller.
"What?" Englehorn asked tensely.
Cowed by Englehorn's threatening tone, he said quickly, "Um, they sent me to let you know that, um, the damage is worse than we'd realized. We may not be able to get the ship going again. We're going to radio in for help."
"Alright," Englehorn said after a stunned pause. "If that is what you must do, do it."
Miller nodded.
"Now go!" Englehorn ordered.
As Miller ran back to the ship, Englehorn fingered his gun. Perhaps it would be best to leave his crew to fix the ship. He could go alone, for now, and find out what was happening beyond the wall. If the natives had only captured a few of his men, he might be able to free them himself. If all had been taken, he could think of a plan then.
A few of the injured that still sat and lay around him were awake. He addressed them. "I am going to see what is going on," he said. "If anyone asks where I am, make it clear to them that they are not to follow me."
A few people replied affirmatively, and Englehorn began to walk to the wall. His left shoulder gave a little stab of pain with each step across the rocks, but he gripped his gun and ignored it. The drumming grew louder.
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Don't worry; I'm not going to kill Jimmy. And what does happen to him? Review (please) and you shall see.