Ralph stood there with Piggy's specs in his hand. He still had a hard time understanding how, or rather, why these boys got here! Time stood still as Ralph glared at the other boy, who was tall and had brown jeri-curls. If it was possible, he could let his counterpart start the fire. His main intention is to let the other boy, who was about his height, do all the work.
Ralph didn't believe in laziness. He just wanted to show his new found foe who's boss. He was the very first person to hold the conch, and the majority of the boys chose him to lead. Therefore, this American military boy...
'Maybe he knows my dad!' Ralph thought. A Navy ship filled his mind, with his father navigating the ship at the front deck. A group of military boys were sitting around, when the other Ralph tapped his shoulder. "Daddy, mind if I tried that? I'll ride the car afterwards, because the pony sucks now!"
Ralph shook his head. Second to his parents, he loved his pony more than anything. As he tried to get rid of these thoughts, Piggy was there to help snap him out of it.
Or maybe he was.
"Ralph! What's taking you so long?" Piggy asked. "You're s'posed to start the fire!"
Before he could say anything, the other boy from his thoughts went and took Piggy's specs from him. "Hey! What was that for?"
The brunette looked at him as he knelt in front of the fuel. Staring at the sun from behind, he focused one of the convex lens on the light. The other boy just watched. Ten long, agonizing minutes ticked by and the fire wasn't lit. "What's taking so long?" he asked.
"It won't work since you're not British," Ralph said, though his statement came across as an insult. Piggy, who was forgotten, rubbed his eyes and muttered something to himself while putting his glasses on.
"What's that supposed to mean?" the former asked with a firm tone.
"Your Piggy's not here, so if you give me the specs-"
"I don't care if he's not here!" the taller boy snapped, getting on his feet. "Are we going to light this up or not?"
"I'll light it!" Ralph snatched the specs from the other boy. "Besides, you need to give your arm a rest. You wouldn't want to break it again."
The honey-eyed brunette didn't remember the sling that supported his arm. At least his nemesis made sense. He was about to protest, but he held his comments back while he watched the blond. In a few seconds, the fire was lit.
"If you don't mind me asking," Ralph began, "what's your name and why did you come here?"
"My name is Ralph," the other boy replied. "I'm American and it's obvious I came to relight the fire."
"Sucks to America!" Ralph snapped. "You had no right to steal our conch in the first place!" He stood up and glared at his new found rival.
Piggy cocked an eyebrow at the sight of this phenomena - or so he called it - but the evidence stood right in front of him. Both boys were evenly matched. They both shared the same skin tone and body build. Two brown eyed boys of the same height; both in stature and their posture. Both faces shared a frown right now. Even though each one came from a different country, their personalities were alike. Well, close enough.
This is bound to get interesting...
"Piggy from my camp found the conch first," Ralph said. "He gave it to me. It was on the beach."
The blond-haired boy couldn't believe his ears. "But, Piggy is right here." He gestured his companion who adjusted his specs on his face.
"So you say," said the brunet. He paused and raised an eyebrow as he observed the other boy. "Wait a second... you look almost like the Piggy I know."
"That's what they call me," the chubby boy replied. "I find it somewhat fancy 'ow we end up 'ere on this same island."
"I find this somewhat strange myself," Ralph began. "And to think, some of the boys from my camp share things in common with the boys in yours."
The blond fixed his hair and regained his composure. "I've noticed this as well," he began. "We may share some of the same goals and dreams."
"Like finding a way to get rescued?" the brunet asked.
"Yeah!" Ralph exclaimed. "The sooner we can, the better. We'll start having good food to eat, clothes to wear, roofs over our heads..."
"...and a place to call home," his counterpart finished.
Piggy cleared his throat. "I think you' both forgetting something," he said. Both versions of Ralph turned to look at him. "Even when we get rescued, 'ere's still a war. There are no guarantees - the grownups are doin' their best to ensure that life, as we once knew, will be back to normal again. There are many risks involved."
The other boys nodded. They understood the point that their comrade made. All they can do now, is hope that their journey back home will be safe and successful. The blond placed a reassuring hand on Piggy's shoulder.
"Don't worry, Piggy," he said. "We will make it back safely. Remember what I told you about my father?"
A knowing smile curled on Piggy's lips. "From the Navy, right?"
"Right."
"Wait a minute," the other Ralph interjected. "I don't mean to interrupt, but your dad is in the Navy?"
"Indeed he is," the blond said. "He's one of the best!"
If Piggy were to put this entire scene in perspective, along with the day's previous events, there was a high chance that they can all get along. Well, he certainly hoped they will. Working together was their most important task for survival.
The brunet looked around to see if anyone was nearby. When he spotted no one, he proceeded to make a fair deal with his counterpart.
"Tell you what," he began, "I'll send someone to bring the conch to you guys, so you can use it. They'll meet one of you right here to trade the shell each time."
"That's a great idea," his counterpart replied. "We can do the same. We should come up with a password."
"How's about 'WW2 Affairs'?" Piggy suggested.
The other two smiled. "It's a deal, then." They shook hands and got ready to disperse when Simon, from the British faction, arrived with the conch in his hands.
"Fancy meeting you all," he greeted. He peered directly at the blond boy. "I think we need to call an assembly."
"How come?" Ralph asked.
"Both Rogers initiated a fight on the beach," he said. "There's one set of hunters versus the other, and both Jacks are nowhere to be found."
~•~•~
Down by the beach, competition roared like an angry, proud lion among the hunters. One side seemed to have more than the other. Talk about a dull idea for problem solving…
There were two pigs who stood out in a clearing during their cooperative hunt earlier. Both sides had decided to see how well they can collaborate. However, everyone threw their sticks at once, which caused the pair of pigs to escape. Consequently, there was very little time to catch up with their targets. Robert, from the British side, had accidentally bumped his elbow in Will's face. Maurice tripped over Rapper's leg, who bumped into Steve from behind. Steve had caught John's arm for dear life, which caused him to fall when his slapped Bill on the cheek. Bill held his cheek, spun around to find the culprit, yet accidentally bumped his elbow in Pablo's chest. Next thing the conscious few in the group knew, despite the domino effect of their minor accidents, both leaders - Jack, to be exact - were no longer there.
This led both Rogers to initiate a war, similar to the current state of warfare the world was in.
Sticks forgotten, all the hunters rushed back to the beach with howls and shouts of their own. As soon as they've made it to the beach, an argument between both factions of the boys ensued. It spiraled out of control, their adrenaline could not be contained.
Roger and Roger squared up and circled each other when a few littluns squeaked:
"Again!"
Huh? Where did that come from?
Both groups of hunters looked in their direction, frustrations forgotten. Watching the littluns play what's presumably a tree climbing game has piqued their interest. As a result, most of the older boys dropped their issues and ran over to the fruit trees nearby.
"Who wants to be the referee?" asked Tony.
"What's a referee?" Maurice asked.
"Someone who keeps the score, and sees which teams are playing fair."
"Sounds like a great idea!"
Just then, Percival landed on his feet with Peter inching by.
"We're just doing this for fun!"
Before the bigguns could respond, both smaller boys returned to the tree and kept climbing.
"Let's see which hunters make it to the top first," Roger proposed in a sing-song voice.
"Sounds more reasonable," the military Roger replied.
A few moments later, the sun shone brightly as a new game commenced. This time, the hunters from both groups found a tree to climb on. Even though Maurice had volunteered with Tony to be refs for a few rounds, and the rest of the group lined up in pairs, Roger and Roger shoved a few of their comrades aside.
The grumbling murmurs returned.
"Why are you guys budging?"
"It doesn't hurt to line up and take turns."
"Show some respect!"
Both Rogers growled at the group. Even the confidence of Maurice and Tony faded.
"We're doing this our way, not yours!"
Looks of disappointment and anger from the group didn't faze both Rogers at all. They've proceeded to climb the trees that Robert and Will were first in line for, and none of the hunters cheered them on.
All they did was murmur and watch helplessly…
Then the conch blew…
Both Rogers fell from the trees and landed on their butts as the rest of the boys laughed and cheered for Karma. On cue, their Happy feet rushed in the direction of the conch as the waves beat some boulders nearby. That'll teach 'em.
~•~•~
On the beachfront, both groups of boys faced Ralph from the British faction, and Ralph from the American faction.
"Hunters, I understand some issues have occurred right here, amongst yourselves."
Many of the hunters nodded and waved their hands in response.
"We were trying to play a cool game that the littluns invented," said Robert.
"Then both Rogers ruined it by not waiting their turn!" Will hollered.
"We've almost had a fight earlier, but we're good now," said Harold. "Our biggest setback in getting along is Roger."
Both Rogers growled and crossed their arms, annoyed with how the others turned them down. One look from the bird's eye view revealed this unwanted reality for the two, since a magnetic field has kept them both separate from the rest.
"We need to do better than that next time," Ralph said. "Any luck catching some food to eat?"
The group shook their heads when maniacal laughter was heard from the forest.
"Sounds like Jack," a few voices muttered.
"What's going on?" said another.
"Sounds more like the monster."
"Oh no! Beastie! The Beastie ate Jack! It's coming for us!"
"Run!"
"Don't run! The hunters will defend you!"
The conch blew again at the height of fear and panic.
"Calm down, everyone! There is no Beastie, here! You have nothing to worry about."
The brunet Ralph felt his insides bubble. His counterpart was more charismatic in his leadership style. At the same time, he'd sensed the need to help the others calm down; especially the littluns. The numbers differed significantly in the British faction - possibly in the fifties. They were a bigger group than the twenty-something his faction consisted of.
Anyways, time to get back to business.
"What's going on?" Piggy asked.
"The howl'in sounds like hunters, yet they're right 'ere," the other Piggy replied. "Of all the hunters from both groups, two 'pecific people are missing."
His companion had caught on rather easily. "Jack…"
Piggy nodded his head.
Two sets of twins and an auburn-haired Simon arrived at the beach from the castle area. The small group of five voted amongst themselves to explain what they saw. Samneric, from the American faction, chose to do the honours.
"There's no monster," they spoke in unison. "However, we saw what the two Jack's did. It's the creepiest thing ever!"
Ralph gave them the conch and nodded. "You may continue."
"They sang the same songs-"
"Something about 'Kyrie El'-"
"Then the redhead Jack discovered some abandoned war paint-"
"And he put some on his face."
The group listened carefully as the twins spoke, or at least tried. The howls and maniacal laughter grew a little louder.
"So we've also noticed-"
"How the blond Jack-"
"Took the paint from his counterpart-"
"And painted his own face."
The group shuddered. Something sounded rather… off.
"Then they took their sticks-"
"Did a salute-"
"By clapping their sticks together-"
"And that's when a pig showed up-"
"It was big, but-"
"They've killed it-"
"In the scariest ways possible!"
"We've fled the scene before they saw us," Simon filled in. "Don't be surprised if you can't recognize them."
"Where and when did this happen?" Both Ralphs asked in unison, alarmed.
"This afternoon, when we met the Twins. Near my-"
Just then, the bushes and leaves crashed. Simon, Samneric and Ralph leapt away from the plateau where they've stood before. Both Piggys assumed hiding spots near the fattest palm tree.
Both Jacks emerged from the creepers with a fat sow, hanging from a log. Their only recognizable traits were their eyes and, due to their hard work, matted hair. Jack from the British faction still wore his choir hat. If that wasn't enough, one common trait had shaken the rest of the group by a mile: Bloody arms and torsos. They've tossed their sharpened sticks aside and posed a statement:
"We've brought some meat! Who's hungry?"