Oh my goodness, this chapter would not write. I am still pulling my hair out over it. And I've been spelling Percival's name wrong the entire time. That was an awkward moment when I realised that.
Arrows: Chapter 4
Trails
"You said the pigs were here?" Jack's sarcastic voice cuts through the tense silence like a whip, "Are you that interested in playing with Roger?" Percival shrinks in on himself, whimpering at the thought of the dark haired teen even getting within a ten meters distance of him. His chief's next words turn the boy's face white.
"If you're so eager to spend time with him, you'll get your wish now." Jack smiles innocently at the sheer panic in his subordinate's eyes, "Roger? Want to play with him?"
Roger starts towards the crying boy, eyes dancing with eagerness, a long leather strip appearing in his right hand. Percival sobs in terror, unintelligible pleads of mercy spilling out between breaths as the first lashing pain cuts across his back. The hunters stand in a ring, painted faces leering at the spectacle in the center; most of them live for this kind of show. Jack nods at Roger, amusement dancing on his features as the younger boy dances and writhes in a desperate attempt to escape the whip. He never gets far though, every time he bumps into the circle, he is shoved right back in his tormentor's direction. Roger's face is frozen in a lazy smile, the whip sings its song again and again as he weaves whirling patterns in the air, causing his victim no end of distress. Percival finally collapses in the center, too exhausted from the mental and physical stress of running away, protecting his face as lash after lash rains down on his side, arms and legs. Jack prods at the still figure with his spear, giving a contemptuous glare at the pitiful, tear streaked face. He turns his back on the disgraced hunter, ignoring the subdued meeps of discomfort when Roger starts poking at the boy, and gestures at two identical hunters. "Samneric. Scan the clearing."
The twins stare at him from behind their black and white face paint with dead eyes, saluting in one motion and breaking the circular formation; since their former chief and last hope of salvation had disappeared from the island, both boys had become mostly silent. They followed Jack's commands almost robotically and although the obvious fear that Jack and Roger instilled in them showed they were still human, any other strong emotion seemed to have burned up just as violently as the consuming fire three years ago. A few feet away from the main group, they glance at each other mutely; silently agreeing to split up and search the clearing in quarters. It's more efficient than sticking together and it's harder to miss things that way.
By now, Percival had pulled himself up to a painful sitting position and not for the first time, Jack is impressed by Roger's ability to inflict the most pain while still keeping the victim fully conscious. The boy's body is criss crossed by angry red lines and the tall redhead knows that there are probably several bruises blooming as well. Percival tenses when he feels the chief's eyes focus on him again, a breathy whine escaping him. He escapes further punishment by sheer coincidence; a startled cry several meters away from them causes Jack to turn around again immediately. Icy eyes sweep the clearing, trying to identify where the sound had come from; Jack finds the identical figures crouching at the far end of the small open space, looking down on something hidden completely by the thick plant life. Samneric's heads turn towards him in one motion and both shoot up in a hurry, loping back towards the ring of hunters. They knew better than to keep Jack waiting, both the redhead and his second in command have dyed the whip with their blood multiple times for such an infraction. Jack arches both ruby eyebrows at them, giving them permission to speak. The hunters behind him shift restlessly, curiosity making them impatient for the information as well. The twins take a breath at the same time and launch into their report, words tumbling over each other in a rare display of excitement.
"There's a pig-"
"A dead one-"
"Yes, a dead one, and its-"
"Its insides have been cut out-"
"Blood's everywhere-"
"Right, and it doesn't…" Both pause and look at each other uncertainly, hazel eyes betraying a chaotic thought process behind their masked faces. Jack prompts them in an acidic voice.
"It doesn't?" Samneric glance at him then at the whip in Roger's hands before peeking at each other in a sidelong flick of the eyes. Sam (Or was it Eric?) picks up where they left off, lowering his voice so that Jack only barely caught what the other said.
"Doesn't look natural. Too clean." Eric (Or was it Sam?) finishes their report in the same whispery tone.
"Right, looks a knife cut." Jack's eyebrows disappear into his hairline. Samneric huddle together in fright, watching their chief's every action. Jack was unpredictable in a calculating way and they really didn't want to join Percival in the "circle of fun" as Roger had come to call it. Fortunately, the blue eyes don't flash mischievously and Jack waves at them to show him to the location of their find; he follows the relieved twins to the disemboweled animal and crouches down to examine it. The pig's innards are deposited in a neat pile next to the carcass, the ropelike intestines coiled around the pile like a snake. Blood is coagulating around the body and when Jack inspects the ripping gash, he discovers that the twins' are right. It's a single, expert cut from throat to pelvis that resembles the neat incisions Jack himself makes on the throats of the pigs he brings down. He senses Roger crouch next to him, studying the strange kill as well.
"It was after the blood." Roger trails his fingers in the sticky mess before swirling the dark color onto his face, "Certainly knew what it was doing." He sounds pleased. Jack nearly sighs in exasperation; he was being somewhat hypocritical since the sight of the gooey stuff had also set his skin tingling with approval, but Roger had an unnatural obsession with blood. He liked it to the point where Jack sometimes wondered if his best friend wasn't missing a couple of marbles. The next comment draws the redhead's thought process up short, "There's a hole behind its left shoulder." The soft voice makes Jack pause in his musings. Icy eyes flicker to the spot indicated by a maroon finger. Jack's mouth quirks at one end, his brain immediately realising who had been behind the kill; Samneric automatically back up a foot, recognising the fiendish expression on the painted face. The tall teen moves around the dead pig, examining a barely noticeable trail of crushed plant life then rises to his feet and waves the rest of the hunting party forwards. For the next couple minutes, a staccato of commands punctuate the air, splitting the group into two. One group will take the pig back to Castle Rock; the other is going to follow the nearly invisible trail left in the tall grass. Percival is taken with the tracking group to be given a chance to redeem himself to the hunters; however, the real reason Jack takes him is because he knows Ralph is armed and probably dangerous. Percival is simply an added complication and cannon fodder if need be.
The group sets off; there are stretches of the trail where it is obvious interrupted by areas where it all but disappeared. Jack and the group are in the middle of trying to find the trail again when an ancient instinct makes the redhead leap to the side, and an arrow whistles past him to bury itself to a quivering stop in Percival's arm. The boy's scream of pain echoes on the island; there isn't time to find out how severe the wound is though, because another arrow is already in the air. Some of the younger hunters, not understanding how the injury occured, begin shrieking about the beast, memories of the past fear rushing back as adrenalin prevented all rational thought. Another arrow hits the ground not far from Roger, surprisingly, the dark haired hunter hasn't lost his calm demeanor at all. He looks at Jack, a question in the dark eyes; Jack tilts his head and Roger vanishes in the chaos. A fourth arrow is airborne by now; this time though, Jack seeks out the direction it came from and throws his spear that way. He's rewarded with a rustle of leaves and a long shape tumbling out and landing on the ground in front of him.
The elongating shadows plays with the newcomer's appearance. Ralph looks almost possessed in the shade cast by the tapering leaves and trailing creepers overhead; the darkness accentuates the red trails on his cheeks, making it look like he'd cried until his eyes had run out of tears and bled instead. The flat, grey eyes stare at him from behind an arrow shaft, bowstring tense and ready for another strike. Jack would never know where that shot was actually headed because just then, Roger appears from behind the blonde and knocks him out with a clean blow to the head. The shot goes wide and another hunter grunts in pain, the arrow lodged firmly in his bicep. The second in command steps around the still body and picks up the dropped bow, testing its shooting strength experimentally; Jack crouches down next to him, examining one of the arrows. Roger taps the blonde's throat with the point of his spear, eyebrows drawing together in slight irritation when Jack shakes his head and denies him the request. The redhead taps the arrow in his hand against the unconscious teen's shoulder blade, a more appealing idea forming in his head. Ralph is now too intriguing for Jack, it would be a shame to just kill the teen and Jack knows that breaking the blonde down is going to be more fun in the long run. The remaining uninjured hunters stare at him quizzically, waiting for orders. Jack ties the blonde's wrists together and hauls the limp body up, motioning for the hunters to follow him back to Castle Rock with the new prisoner.