Hello, my readers. Welcome to Chapter 5. This is where things get juicy! Penultimate chapter. Stay tuned for the promised uplifting ending.

The day passed slowly for Piggy. Even long after the assembly should have ended, littluns were chattering about another beast. It wasn't the big, apelike thing on the mountain. No. It was small, about the size of the beast they'd attacked during the dance, with big, black holes for eyes. Many of them worried that it might be a ghost.

"The ghost of the beast!" cried Henry.

"We must've killed it, and now it wants revenge," an older boy added.

"What if—" Maurice hesitated. "What if it's Simon?"

This new thought sent a shudder down the spine of every child.

"But Simon's dead," said one of the littluns quietly. "He's been dead since...since the dance. He wouldn't be a ghost...would he?"

"Maybe the beast killed him," another child suggested. "It's trying to haunt us with him."

"No...the beast didn't kill him!" Bill shouted. "It was us! Don't you see? We killed Simon!"

"We're monsters!"

Hysteria erupted from within the group. Even the illumination of the sun couldn't take away the shock of this discovery. Everyone who'd been denying it before now had to face it: they had killed Simon.

"Maybe he wants revenge," someone offered shakily.

"Or maybe he just wants to terrify us!" someone else objected.

"I think you're both wrong—he wants to eat us!"

"No, he wants us to be just like him...to be with him forever!"

By now, even the biguns were trembling with fear. Piggy had to put a stop to this. How else would they come up with a reasonable plan?

"You're acting like a crowd of kids—there's no such thing as ghosts!" he yelled. "Simon's not a ghost! Now listen: we got to have a real plan. Ralph can't stay here if he's going to be barmy. We could move him to the other end of the island, and—"

"Shut up, Fatty!" someone yelled.

"Yeah!"

"Be quiet!"

"Do you want the ghost to kill us?"

"He couldn't kill us if we hunted him," said Henry.

"We can't hunt a ghost," Robert objected. "We'll still have to hunt Ralph. He wouldn't let us bury Simon. I'll bet that's what the ghost wants."

"Of course!" Maurice agreed. "My uncle once told me a story about a ghost. He said that the ghost used to haunt people, until they buried his body. Then he went away and didn't bother anyone."

"See?" Jack turned to Piggy. "We have to get rid of Ralph. Otherwise Simon will keep haunting us. Remember that thing we saw in the woods this morning? Could have been him! We have to do it. What else is there to do?"

Piggy flinched at those last words—he could remember Simon saying them to him once. "But...there's no such thing as ghosts."

"There is!" sobbed a littlun. "I saw him. Last night. He was all white, like bones, and he had holes for eyes. Just like what the others said."

Percival, who had already been crying quietly, burst into tears. The other littluns followed suit, and soon the clearing was full of weeping children.

"We still can't kill Ralph," Piggy said, even though he knew no one would listen.

"Who says?" Jack demanded. "If we want to bury Simon, we must! Ralph's the only one on the island who'll keep us from doing it!"

Piggy was weary and no longer in any shape to continue arguing. At least they weren't after him. Well, not presently, anyway. If he continued to oppose their plan, they'd kill him without giving it a second thought. Fear did that to people: anything that posed a physical threat would be seen as a target; it was part of the self-preservation instinct. Since Piggy was acting out against a plan which they had devised to protect their own well-being, he was just as much of a threat as "the ghost". It was too late to try and convince them that ghosts weren't real. So he gave in.

"All right. Do what needs to be done."

A cheer erupted from the crowd, and immediately they began to shout out different ideas.

"We could get him during the night," Robert said, "so he's asleep. He'll never know what's coming to him."

"But we can't—night is when the ghost comes out. We have to do it during the day."

"If we try to attack during the day, he'll see us!"

"It doesn't matter; he can't possibly fight us all at once."

The chatter continued for the rest of the day. Piggy, however, didn't stick around to listen. He wanted to say goodbye to Ralph. Maybe not an official goodbye—he didn't want Ralph to know about the plan and be frightened. But he did want to spend time with his friend before they got rid of him for good. Piggy wondered what he would do after Ralph was gone. No one else seemed to tolerate his company.

At that thought, a sudden realization hit him: after they got rid of Ralph, he'd follow soon after. How could he have overlooked this? Before long, Jack's tribe wouldn't care whether or not Piggy was a threat. Pigs weren't a threat, and yet the hunters saw them as targets. Soon enough, Piggy would follow. They didn't like him. The hunt for the pigs would soon grow tame after slaughtering Ralph. So they'd look for their least favorite person and kill him, just for the fun of it. And Piggy was their least favorite person. Briefly he remembered the warning Simon had given him in a dream not too long ago: "I just wanted you to know you'd be in danger soon."

Piggy's heart beat wildly in his chest, and he started to have trouble breathing. No! Not now! Piggy thought. He struggled to catch his breath. The world spun and blurred as his supply of oxygen waned. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the episode was over. Piggy found he was sitting on the beach, next to the platform.

He looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ralph's yellow hair. All he saw was the vast ocean, the empty beach, and the deserted platform. The only sign that anyone had been there recently was the dropped blood staining the sand and rocks. Where had he gone off to now?

Before he had time to get up and search, someone leaped onto Piggy's back and wrapped his arms around his neck. He writhed, grunting in surprise and pain, trying to escape the arms' iron grip. He grasped the person's wrists. Jack! Piggy thought. He wants me to die.

Spots danced across Piggy's vision, and his lungs burned. "Wait!" he wanted to cry. "I'll help you hunt! I'll do anything. I'll kill Ralph myself. Just let me live!" But the words wouldn't squeeze through the grip of the arms.

Just before the world faded, he heard Ralph's voice: "Join my tribe, Piggy! We can get rescued. I just have to make you more like Simon..."

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Piggy awoke from what had seemed to him like a long sleep. He blinked, the bright sun shining right in his eyes. Someone was standing over him.

"Ralph?" he asked, his voice sounding cracked.

"No. It's me, Simon." The small boy extended his hand and pulled Piggy up.

"Well, that's just wonderful. Another dream. Got any more warnings?"

"Well, even if I gave them to you, you wouldn't listen." Simon looked up at Piggy. "You should listen better."

"D'you honestly think I would expect Ralph to attack?" Piggy adjusted his spectacles.

"I didn't know who was going to attack you," said Simon testily. "I just knew something was wrong." Piggy decided Simon was the intuitive part of his psyche, the part that was rarely used but somehow still existed. Up until recently, he'd relied on logic to provide all the answers, but now he was starting to doubt it. Why on earth would Ralph attack him? How could attacking people make them join his tribe? It didn't make sense. And that was logic's downfall: when things stopped making sense, logic stopped working.

"All right then. When can I expect to see my auntie again?"

"How would I know that? I never even met your auntie."

"I'm just testing you, to see how much you can sense."

Simon looked miffed. "I suppose you only keep me around so that I can tell you about these kinds of things, then?"

"Well...yes. Why else?" It was best to be honest with this part of himself. If he was testing it, he might as well re-introduce it to the rest of his...consciousness. Or whatever you called it.

"I thought we might be friends," said Simon.

"We could be, in theory. But it's very hard to be friends with a part of your mind."

"You think I'm a part of your mind?"

"What else would you be? You're dead. There's no other way I could be talking to you."

"I can think of another way..." Simon began to say, but someone interrupted him.

"Piggy, you need to get up now."

"What?" Piggy's world started to fade. "Wait!"

"Get up! Get up! Ralph's coming!"

Piggy blinked twice, and suddenly he was lying on the ground again, by the platform. Maurice and Samneric were shaking him.

"C'mon!"

"Let's—"

"—get out of here!"

"What's going on?" Piggy asked.

"Ralph tried to strangle you," said Maurice.

"And then—"

"—we found you, unconscious."

"But...why? Why would he—"

"We don't know. But come on! Before he gets all of us!"

The four of them scrambled to their feet and ran through the forest.

"What—what happened?" Piggy asked, through labored breaths.

"We don't know!" said Sam.

"We saw Ralph," said Eric, "and he was attacking you."

"We scared him off somehow," Maurice continued. "When he saw us, he ran away. He had this real weird look in his eyes, kinda like some animal."

"It was really scary," Eric added.

They continued running until they reached the clearing.

"Ralph's really batty now!" Sam cried, upon seeing Jack. "He tried to kill Piggy!"

Jack turned to the large boy, his eyes dark and dangerous. "I told you!" he yelled. "I told you we should kill Ralph! He wants to get rid of you! Are you happy, Fatty? What if he decides to attack us next? We've got to kill him now!"

"Wait—" Piggy began, but he never finished his sentence.

Ralph emerged suddenly from the forest. He grabbed the spear with the pig's head on top and shook it until the decayed chunk of flesh flew off the end. The entire clearing was full of screaming children. Many of them took off into the forest. But Piggy's feet were glued to the ground. His muscles were paralyzed.

"Join my tribe!" Ralph cried, almost pleading. "We've got to get rescued—don't you see?" Tears ran from crazed eyes. Before anyone could do anything, the fair boy approached Maurice with the spear held high.

"You'll join, won't you?"

Maurice, too shocked to move, could only stand there helplessly as Ralph stuck the spear through his neck. Piggy's eyes were transfixed as the life seeped out of him; his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell to the ground without so much as a grunt. Blood ran from the deep puncture wound and spurted from broken veins.

No one moved. Then Jack, with a battle cry, took up his own spear and lunged at Ralph. Ralph was just as athletic as he had been before the whole ordeal, and dodged Jack's attacks easily. Everyone else stood by, unable to do anything but watch and hope that Jack could somehow maim his crazy opponent.

Finally, the two were too exhausted to continue the fight and Ralph turned away, running back toward the beach. "See?" Ralph shouted back at them as he ran off. "See? You're the beast, just like Simon said! All I want is to have a tribe and get rescued, and you come up with a plan to kill me! Beasts! Beasts!"

His voice died away as he got further and further away. Silence had descended upon the island; everyone was trembling.

What were they going to do? Piggy realized he'd been wrong, very wrong. They should have done away with Ralph a long time ago. Now he was not only batty but homicidal as well, and it was all Piggy's fault. If only he hadn't doubted Jack's plan! He sat on the ground, wide-eyed, unable to think, to move. They were all going to die here. They were going to die, and they would all become just as batty as Ralph.