Welcome to chapter 7. I actually got to chapter 7 :D *mental pat on the back*
This is Jack's point of view because Ralph isn't doing anything at the moment. Besides, the investigation just a little bit more important, don't you think?
... ...
...that was sarcasm. Please don't be my I-can't-tell-when-you're-being-sarcastic friend.
Arrows: Chapter 7
Warning
That night, clouds roll across the island; the moon appears and disappears, making the landscape flicker between light and shadow. The younger hunters huddle together wherever they decided to stay for the night. The fear of the unknown has never left them; even now, the blurry memories of monsters lurk in their subconsciousness and prompt them to avoid being out on nights like this one. Farther up the clearing, Jack is skirting around a prone Ralph; the blond is almost as tall as he is and as a result, the prisoner's legs present a tripping hazard in the darkness. The redhead is just outside the entrance when a soft voice makes him freeze; either Ralph hadn't fallen asleep or he'd become a light sleeper because when Jack turns his head, he finds pale eyes staring at him. The blond rises to a sitting position, wincing slightly at the new bruises on his arms.
"Are you going to the ship?" The question catches Jack off guard and Ralph smiles smugly at the savage's fleeting expression. As isolated as he is from the tribe, the blond is observant enough to gather intel on his own. The snippets Ralph has caught from several different conversations contain enough information to allow him to string it into a complete thought. He knows there's a wrecked ship bearing unwelcome visitors, on top of that, he knows Jack too well. The ginger's unusual behavior has piqued Ralph's curiosity, although he hides this from the hunter. "Why? Some half dead sailors couldn't possibly threaten you, O exalted ruler of barbarians."
Ralph was pushing his limits; Jack is already tense from the day's events, his captive's mocking tone might have received a death sentence if Jack had been three years younger. Judging from Ralph's cold look, that is exactly what he is expecting from the painted hunter. Jack smirks, he won't be predictable then. What fun would that be?
"I seem to remember that only one boy toppled you from your throne, Chief. Then all you had were the dead and the sack of fat."
Surprisingly, his first jibe didn't elicit any reaction from the prisoner. Ralph simply adopted a vaguely confused expression, but the second taunt sparked icy fire in the stormy eyes.
"He had a name, savage, and he never did anything. You just killed him for fun."
"Correction. He killed himself. Trying to challenge me with only a shell? Suicidal. If he were really that smart, he wouldn't have tried to resist in the first place."
The blond's eyes flash angrily in the dark; he's drawing breath for another retort when he suddenly turns his head away, "Go have your fun." Ralph sounds exhausted; Jack is toying at the blond with his spear when the teen abruptly whips his head around again, "Watch for the rings of three. And stop poking me you sorry excuse for a human!"
Although he subconsciously registers the request and stores it for further use, Jack is much more delighted at Ralph's irate reaction. The blond appears to never remember that his hands are tied and useless behind his back because the teen resorts to punching first every single time Jack annoys him. He can't, of course, and it gives Jack no end of entertainment. The ginger's tempted to keep annoying the captive blond, but a visual scan of the clearing reveals the tall silhouette near the ashes of a bonfire. Jack glances up at the shifting sky then stares right into dark eyes, feeling a wry smile tug at his mouth. He knows that the punctual Roger doesn't like waiting. By now, Ralph has lain down again and is completely ignoring Jack; the even breathing suggesting that the blond wasn't planning on moving anytime soon. The redhead joins his friend and the two painted figures melt into the scenery.
The ocean is restless; Jack can see the white caps of the breaking waves far before they reach the beach. The wind has whipped the sand up as well, and it stings the two hunters' legs as the particles are driven into wild dances by the moving air. Roger scans the stretch of bone white land in front of them as Jack surveys their surroundings and the dark shape of the ship, determining a path to the vessel. All of the surviving crew is asleep, completely dead to the world, inside the tree line. Jack notes this with a frown; there had been no physical indication of an approaching storm until well into the clutches of nighttime. The fact that the crew had sought shelter beforehand indicated the possibility they were seasoned sailors and experienced in the art of survival; however, this observation clashed with the fact that none of the sleeping humans woke with the new presence of the two hunters. Only inexperienced city dwellers slept so deeply; people used to being in the elements would never allow their consciousness to slip so far. Roger taps Jack's shoulder, eyebrows arched in a silent question. The ginger shakes his head, filing his confusion for later, and beckons for his friend to follow him. Taking one last glance at the prone figures, both teens slip across the beach like twin shadows and into the moored ship.
The inside smells like moldy wood and seaweed. Ominous creaking sounds echo in the hollow chamber every time the wind blows. Jack makes a face at the strong stench, warily eying what little he can see of the interior. He would prefer that the structure doesn't fall on his head while he is inside. Roger is staring at him expectantly, waiting for the plan of action; Jack rolls his eyes internally, there are times he is certain Roger only took the beta position because the brunette didn't like strategizing. He leaves most of the planning to Jack even though the redhead knows that unlike many of the others, Roger is very capable of thinking for himself. The ship lists to the side gently, stopping Jack's musing. Right, they have an objective to accomplish. He gestures at Roger to stand guard and steps farther into the darkness.
Fortunately for the hunter, there are enough holes smashed into the ship for what unreliable moonlight there is to light up the cavern. The place is mostly empty and devoid of information; even what appeared to be the captain's quarters yielded little to no detail that Jack hadn't already deduced from his primary inspection. He does find a map and a piece of parchment identifying the destination of the vessel as North America, but that is about all the new information available on the ship. There is no flag to show nationality and no cargo either to provide clues on what the ship's intended use was. Jack growls in irritation; he hates fruitless searching and consequently, this is grating on his nerves. The redhead steps on the main deck warily, feeling the boards shift slightly under his weight, and walks the length of the once mighty vessel looking for anything that might be useful. Nothing. The teen is just turning away to head back to Roger when the weak light hits something on the door to the captain's cabin and makes it shimmer. Jack frowns, gingerly stepping closer to the splintering wood for a better view; after a few seconds, the moon peeks out again from behind the clouds and shoots its silvery rays down. The light is gone in a heartbeat, but Jack's keen eyes have caught the nearly invisible symbols on the surface of the wood. Almost immediately, the ruby eyebrows curve downwards and towards each other; this is...interesting.
"Watch for the rings of three."
Jack doesn't know the actual meaning of Ralph's words, but the fleeting image the moonlight had revealed most definitely fit the vague description. He's probably going to have to ask Ralph to clarify; the frown deepens, Jack doesn't like asking others for favors. Especially not the blond teen; if Jack can avoid that alternative by any means possible, he is going to. When the redhead gets back to his partner, Roger is busy torturing a hermit crab with his spear and a strip of seaweed. The poor creature is trying its best to escape but to no avail; even in the dark belly of the ship, the hermit crab can't scuttle more than a couple of inches before being caught. It finally gets a lucky break when Roger comes to attention at the sound of Jack snapping his fingers. The dark teen shakes his head at the searching glance; there's been no movement at all from the sleeping crew. Both slide out of the ship and ghost across the restless expanse of sand to the dark tree line, allowing the charcoal shadows to swallow their forms whole. Lightning crackles in the distance and the island goes completely dark; the moon vanishing entirely behind a wall of black clouds. The wind picks up to a howling gale and the jungle comes alive in the shadows; creepers become reaching arms and creaking trees become skeletal silhouettes. Even Roger tenses and quickens his pace, maintaining the silence between him and his chief until they reach Jack's cave at Castle Rock. Once there, he turns around; Jack, guessing the question Roger wants to ask, holds up a hand.
"There wasn't anything in there. It looks like the crew either ate or dumped everything overboard." The brunette scowls at this, turning the matter over in his head.
"We should just capture one of them and force information out."
Behind them, Ralph stirs restlessly; both teens start and turn around, looking to see if the blond had woken up. But the captured teen only mutters fretfully before settling again, his breathing returning to an even rhythm. Roger's eyes glint at the scars on the blond's body.
"His father is in the Navy, right? He might know more about ships. May I interrogate him if you decide to question him?"
Lightning briefly illuminates the island in blue; Roger catches Jack's approving smirk in the eerie light before everything goes dark again and a deafening clap of thunder send vibrations through the ground. Jack feels his jaw clench at the sound and he dismisses Roger with a wave before stepping into the black mouth of his cave; the redhead is completely blind inside the cavern, he leans his spear against the rocky wall and slides down next to it. This position puts him right next to Ralph, but Jack is too tired to care. Besides, the blond waking up and panicking is something that would amuse him to no end. And he is freezing; as much as Jack doesn't want to admit it, the warmth radiating from Ralph is keeping him close to the boy. For a few moments, Jack attempts to revisit the shimmering design he'd found on the ship. Rings of three. He has a feeling the symbol was of significant importance, but his brain refuses to dwell on it any longer. Jack falls asleep right as the rain begins to come down in sheets, blurring the island into one grey mass.
I have been wondering if I'm beginning to write both Jack and Ralph differently. Is there a change?