“Is that what I think it is?” Daniella asked. “A boar’s head?”
“It is.”
“How old is it?”
“Not as old as I’d like it to be. Maggots are still feasting on it. Flies are as well.”
“How old do you think it is?” Alex asked.
“Maybe a week. Maybe less.”
“Then there are others on this island,” Alex said.
“I’m afraid so.”
“What does it even mean?” Blackwell said, looking at the head. “Why would somebody stake a boar’s head on a tree like that?”
“It’s one of two things. Either it’s meant as some primitive sign to warn off other boars—or other people. Or it’s there to honor the kill, either by a tribe or by civilians.”
Before I could respond, Blackwell said, “Who else is on this island?”
“Perhaps an indigenous tribe.”
“Then we should turn back,” Alex said. “Whoever is here must have heard us when we crashed.”
“They absolutely heard us when we crashed. But why have they been silent so far? If they are hostile, they could have taken us last night, but they didn’t. Why?”
“You tell us,” I said. “And what did you mean when you said that civilians could have killed it?”
“No matter how remote this island might be—and I can only assume it’s remote because no one came to assist us when we crashed and because the island isn’t wired with electricity from what I’ve seen—there have been other civilians here. I can guarantee you that. They’d come to fish, for instance. Some of the best fishing in the world is in the South Pacific. They’d also come to hunt boar, and then they’d get in their boats and leave with their catch or kill. Generally, hunters and fishermen stay no longer than a week, and then they’re gone. So, a hunter could have done this, which is possible given the grandiosity of the act. But, if there is a tribe here—which there might be—then they might be staying hidden so they can watch us, and they’re probably hoping we’ll leave soon. Primitive doesn’t mean stupid—don’t ever think that. They know this island better than we know ourselves. If a tribe did this, then they have seen our plane—and they’ve also seen us. We didn’t arrive by some random boat that drifted ashore. We arrived on a plane that smashed onto this island and then exploded on land. If they exist, they’ve already processed our situation. And they now have a plan for how to deal with us. Right now, it’s a waiting game.”
“A waiting game for what?” I asked.
“To see if we pose a threat.”
“What constitutes a threat?”
“Being here. Stealing their water. Their food.”
“What if no one comes for us?” Daniella asked.
“Someone will come for us,” Tank said. “The question is when they will come for us.”
“You don’t know that,” she said. “You said it was possible that the black boxes were compromised in the crash.”
“I said that the box on our part of the plane might have been compromised. I’ve said nothing about the box that was in the cockpit.”
“Which is miles away from us. How am I supposed to hinge my hopes on that when I’m faced with a boar’s head speared to a tree?”
“You don’t,” he said to her. “With this alone, everything has just changed for us. We have a whole new set of problems on our hands. It’s likely that there are people on this island. They might be watching us now, and they might have been since we first came here. So, listen to me. We work as a unit, and we work quickly.”
He paused to look around him and above him in the umbrella of trees. “Over there are several coconut trees,” he said. “The objective isn’t to climb the tree—it’s too dangerous, and we don’t have a machete to free the fruit. Instead, we’ll check the forest floor for any that might have recently fallen free, and are still fresh. Let’s check the ground over there and see what we find.”
When we did, we scored twelve coconuts, large green globes with only minor bruising from the fall.
“These are in great shape, but they’re heavy,” Tank said. “Let me have your blanket, Daniella. I’ll carry them.”
“If there are people watching us, won’t they think that we’re stealing their food?” I asked.
“Look at how many coconuts are on the ground, all about to rot. They aren’t worried about the ones that have fallen free. If there is an indigenous tribe here, they are experts at climbing these trees and getting the freshest fruit possible. That’s what they want, not the ‘waste’ they see us gathering.”
“Since when do I eat waste?” Blackwell said.
“Since you crashed on this island.” He motioned ahead of us. “It looks as if there’s a field just ahead of us,” he said. “Do you see it? In the clearing? If we’re lucky, we might find water there.”
At that moment, I heard movement in the jungle. It didn’t sound like the boars that had threatened us yesterday—these were footfalls, and as stealth as they were, the sound of them was unmistakable. Tank also heard them. He quickly glanced around us, keeping his head low—and keeping his cool.
“We’re being watched,” he said.
“By whom?” Blackwell said.
“I would imagine by members of the tribe. So, we keep to ourselves. We take only what we need. These people are used to people visiting this island for the very reasons I listed earlier. Fishing. Hunting. If anything, they’re curious about who we are, especially because of the way we arrived. I say we go into the field. We need water. I know of other ways to source water if we need to, but it’s not as efficient as finding a water source we can go to every day. We need to push forward.”
“But is it safe?”
“If they wanted a confrontation of some sort, they would have initiated one by now, so I do think it’s safe.”
“We should turn back,” I said.
“If we’re going to survive, we need food and water, Jennifer. They know that. This won’t be the first time someone has come to their island for both. So, let’s do this.”
He hoisted the coconuts over his back, and we followed him out of the jungle with its broad canopy of trees and into a massive clearing just beyond the jungle, where—as far as the eye could see—was a wealth of lush, low-growing plants with spiny tops lit by the sun.
But I didn’t see a brook, a pond, or a lake. At least not here.
“Pineapple,” Tank said. “And look how much of it there is. There must be hundreds of acres of it here.”
“We have coconuts,” Daniella said. “Shouldn’t we just put this on our list under ‘Where Food Is,’ and try to find a water source later? The coconut milk will hydrate us. And we can’t leave Lisa alone forever. Now that we know that people are on this island, we know that she’s vulnerable.”
“We’re here, so we might as well grab what we can. We’ll take a dozen pineapples—which is nothing in a grove this large—and then we’ll call it a day, and get the hell out of here before we overstay our welcome.”
“But what about water?” I asked.
“Water is all around us on the beach.”
“What do you mean?” Alex asked.
“It’s in the bamboo trees,” Tank said. “Chop away at the soft bark, and eventually the tree will let loose with liters of purified water. As I said earlier, it’s not as efficient as I’d like. But if we have to, we’ll fill our bottles that way, and we won’t have to worry about any pathogens that could harm us. The bamboo provides its own kind of purification system, so we’ll be safe. As for bathing and cleaning our clothes, we’ll still need to look for a lake or a waterfall. But that’s not a priority now. Food is.”
“Tank,” I said as we walked into the pineapple groves to harvest the pineapples. “My Uncle Vaughn was a lobsterman in Maine. And a sports fisherman.”
“I remember you telling me that.”
“From him, I know how to spear a fish because he taught me how to do so. I also know how to catch lobster. Are their lobsters he
re?”
“Spiny rock lobsters are everywhere here.”
“I can get us food that way. I saw along the beach a few shallow, coral areas that were filled with fish. I mostly saw red snapper. If there are rock lobsters there, they won’t be as easy to catch, but I know how to corner them. And when they’re cornered, that’s when you snatch them.”
“If we take from the sea, as most do when they come here, it’ll likely be a non-issue with the tribal members because the sea is viewed as something that always gives. Stealing fresh pineapple from them is another matter, regardless of how massive this field is, because it takes time for them to grow. Who knows how large the tribe is, or how much it depends on this field? They might have planted it themselves for all we know. If that’s the case, then we’re crossing boundaries. Daniella and Alexa, how many pineapples do you have now?”
“I have seven,” Alexa said.
Daniella had an armful. “I have eight,” she said.
“That’s plenty to last us two days—maybe more with the coconuts and whatever fish Jennifer can teach us to catch. So, that’s it. Put them in the sack.” He lowered it from his back, they put the pineapples inside, and then he looked at me. “Later, you can fish. But you’ll need a spear for that?”
“I will.”
He leaned down, lifted his left pant leg, and exposed a knife strapped to his calf. It appeared to be about six inches long—maybe seven. “Then I’m glad that I travel with this,” he said. And then he lifted his other pant leg, exposing a gun. “And this. And, yes, it’s loaded, and I have plenty of ammunition for it. It’s one of the things that Cutter grabbed off the plane for us. We have rounds of ammunition sealed in an envelope you probably didn’t notice.”
We all looked at him in surprise.
“Why didn’t you use either one of those on the boars that attacked us?” I asked.
“Because I didn’t need to. I’m big enough to handle a mother boar. What I might not be able to handle is a scarier unknown, such as the tribe that’s watching us now. So, on that note, let’s go. I’m beginning to sense that we have no choice.”
“We should take an alternative route back,” Alexa said.
“Why?” Tank asked.
“Because we could come upon a water source along the way. If we do, then we’ve scored.”
“Good point. Which way do you suggest?”
“The land slopes downward to our left. Gravity is water’s best friend. We should cut left through there, and see what we find. The beach where Lisa is working won’t be far from it.”
“You’re a genius,” Blackwell said.
She smiled at that, but that smile proved short lived. As she started back into the jungle, she cut left and moved with purpose through grass that was so tall, it occluded her view of a thick, massive spider web that stretched the distance between two palm trees.
Alexa walked straight into it.
Within an instant, her body was cloaked with the sticky silk, which encompassed her body, and which was enough to send out the largest spider I’d ever seen from one of the trees. It had to be at least a foot long, if not longer. It looked unreal to me.
When it started to scurry toward her, I screamed along with Blackwell while Alexa thrashed in an effort to release herself from the web, but it only seemed to make matters worse. And then, as instinct set in, she stopped before being rendered immobile.
“Help me!” she shouted.
Tank rushed toward her.
The web was strong and Alexa had done enough damage that she was unable to move. She looked like a mummy to me—and probably like a feast to the spider that was rapidly closing the distance from the tree at my right to Alexa herself.
Tank bent down and reached for his knife.
But he was too late. The spider reached Alexa’s neck and crawled around her throat twice before stopping, ready to claim its prey. I felt faint at the sight of it—and could only look on in horror as the spider reared back on its hind legs, ready to do the inevitable.
CHAPTER NINE
ONLY IT DIDN’T GET the chance.
With the same deftness he’d shown with the boars, Tank slashed the knife toward Alexa’s throat in such a way that I was certain that he’d cut straight through her.
But he didn’t.
Instead, the knife sliced through the spider’s broad back, killing it instantly. Its legs fanned out in shock and then crumpled in on themselves as the spider spiraled down in a thick thread of webbing to the forest floor. To make certain it was dead, Tank stomped on it as if he were stomping on a rat, finishing it off for good.
At first, there was a moment of relief, but we soon realized that the spider that had first appeared was only one of hundreds hidden within the trees on either side of Alexa. She was caught in a nest of them. While the others were tiny—likely the young of the spider Tank had killed—they nevertheless scrambled out of the trees and toward her with surprising speed.
Alex saw it, sprinted to Tank’s left, and started to tear away the web from Alexa’s body before the spiders could bite her.
“Watch your hands,” Tank said to Alex as they tried to free her. “Be careful.”
Together, they tore at the web, but there was so much of it encasing her that some spiders managed to crawl over Alexa’s cocooned face before she could be freed.
Tank and Alex swatted at them, trying to get them off her before they could bite.
“One is just over my right eye!” she said. “Kill it!”
Alex killed the spider just as Tank, with a great effort, took hold of her arm, which was alive with spiders, and ripped her free from the web. Then, with haste, he ran his hands up and down the length of her arms and legs, essentially crushing each spider with his bare hands. Noting this, Alex quickly began to do the same.
Together, their hands moved down her torso, then down her legs to her feet, and finally up to her head and her hair, which seemed to be covered in an overlay of gauze. In an effort to prevent her from being bit, they ripped away at the web, slapping at whatever spiders they saw. But then Alexa cried out.
“I’ve been bitten!” she said.
Blackwell, Daniella and I moved closer.
“What can we do?” I asked.
“Stand back,” Tank said. He looked at Alexa. “Where were you bit?”
“I felt two stings at the back of my neck. And I’m not feeling well—my body is starting to seize up. It’s becoming difficult to breathe.”
Blackwell charged forward. “There are more spiders on her,” she said. “On her legs—here.” She crushed them with her palms. “And on her arms, there.” Again, she moved into action, joining Tank and Alex to rid Alexa of the spiders that had swarmed her body and the web that still clung to her. My heart began to race at the sight of it all—and then, with unexpected force, came a cramp that made my knees buckle. When another one hit, Daniella took me by the arm and gently led me away from Alex so he couldn’t see what was happening to me.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You need to sit down. You shouldn’t even be out here. You should have done what Tank said and stayed back at the hut to rest.”
“I felt fine this morning.”
“The cramping could mean that you’re still pregnant.”
I hadn’t thought of that, but her logic was sound. For once, Daniella had actually said something of worth.
“What can I do?” she asked.
“Bring me over to that stump. Let me sit down. I don’t want to let Alex see me like this. I don’t want him to worry. I want him to have hope.”
“I think you do have hope,” she said. “Why would you cramp otherwise? If the baby was lost, it wouldn’t make sense to be cramping unless you were having your period.”
“No, this was different.”
“Then what you need to do is just sit your ass down and do nothing. What you need to do is to take care of yourself.”
“She’
s been bit,” Tank said. “Twice that I can see.”
I looked over at them and saw that they’d carried Alexa away from the infested area and that she now was lying face down on the ground. The web was mostly off her, but were the spiders? Had they gotten them all? Had they crawled within her clothes? There were so many that had come pouring out of the trees, it seemed unlikely to me that some still weren’t on her—and that she was might get bit again. And if not her, then perhaps Alex, Tank, or Blackwell. Since they were working with their bare hands, all of them were at risk. Anything could happen.
“Lie still,” Tank said to Alexa. “This is going to hurt, but we need to get the poison out now.”
He checked the back of her neck, identified where she’d been bitten, and then, with quick a slash of his blade, he made a small incision in her neck, pressed his fingers on either side of the cut, and began to squeeze hard until blood pooled out in thick red ribbons that dripped onto the jungle floor.
“Do you need to suck the venom out?” Blackwell asked.
“What came out of that tree was a hive of baby spiders. Alexa is strong, and their venom isn’t toxic enough to harm her with any significance. I just need to keep applying pressure here and let the venom come out along with the blood. Then, after a day’s rest, she should be feeling back to herself. She got lucky. If the mother had bitten her, she could be dead.”
“What kind of spiders were they?”
“I’m not sure. Given the size of the female, I’d say that it was a wolf spider, which are known to live around these parts. But who knows? It might have been something else. As I said to all of you earlier, this is exactly why we need to watch ourselves in the jungle. There are poisonous creatures everywhere, from snakes to spiders to insects.”
“And tribesmen,” Blackwell said. “Who are likely watching us now.”
Tank didn’t respond to that. Instead, when he was finished applying pressure to the wound on Alexa’s neck, he leaned down toward her ear and asked her if she was feeling better.
But she didn’t answer him. Instead, she started to sweat—and then to shiver.
Annihilate Him (Volume 2) Page 6
