Return To Primordial Island

by Rick Poldark

  “What do we do?” asked Tracey, panicked.

  “She’s alive,” said Peter, “which means she can be killed. But…”

  “There’s always a but,” said Mary.

  “But, she wields the power of the death orb, which makes her nearly unstoppable.”

  They turned to find her advancing toward them. She waved her hands around, her chest glowing brighter, but as soon as she stepped within fifteen feet of the guardian statue, it animated. It immediately attacked her, interrupting what was likely going to be an attack that would’ve snuffed out all of their lives in one blast. She grappled with it, and they tussled, each pushing back against the other.

  “That was lucky,” said Mary.

  “If she tries to use the death orb, I’ll counter it with my orb,” said Peter.

  “And we’ll try to kill her,” said Tracey.

  They all exchanged nods and dispersed. Peter went right, watching Nazimaa as she contended with the Simian statue. He waited for her chest to glow brighter and prepared to respond in kind, summoning his power. Nazimaa deftly dodged the statue guardian’s spear thrusts, but she couldn’t respond with counterattacks.

  In the meantime, Tracey and Mary went left, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon. They scoured the ground, picking up stones. Their search was interrupted by grunts and howls from up above.

  Peter turned to find the rest of the Simian mummies barrel down the staircase, answering their master’s call. He turned and faced them, closing his eyes. He felt their cool, dark auras and reached out with his power, pressing against them, puncturing their outer shell and infusing them with the warmth of life.

  *

  Tracey saw Peter face the onslaught of Simian mummies, and she saw them halt in their tracks. They writhed under his power, their pallor fading, their dry skin and flesh repairing. She turned back to Nazimaa, whose chest was growing in illumination. In between dodging spear thrusts and wrestling with the statue guardian, she cast glances at Peter. Tracey’s eyes darted to Peter, who appeared to swoon, swaying on his feet.

  “She’s hurting Peter,” Tracey said to Mary.

  They began to pick up any rocks they found around them, hurling them at Nazimaa. Most of the throws missed, bouncing off the statue guardian’s stony exterior. However, Tracey used to pitch softball for the faculty team, and she was damned good at it. She picked up a softball sized stone sloughed off from the collision between the two massive boulders and wound up. She released the rock underhand, and it struck Nazimaa between the eyes, disrupting her focus. The demon’s chest immediately dimmed, but the look Nazimaa shot Tracey was the stuff of nightmares.

  “Oooh, she didn’t like that,” said Mary sardonically. “Nice pitch.”

  They moved closer to Nazimaa, preparing more stones for throwing. Tracey looked back at Peter. The mummies had already begun to turn. They sprouted black fur, and their musculature filled out. Their bodies convulsed as life rushed back into them.

  Nazimaa and the statue guardian barreled past Tracey in a blur, as Nazimaa slammed the statue’s back against one of the boulders.

  “Damn, she’s strong,” said Mary, chucking a stone and hitting the demon in the back of the head.

  Hurt from the blow, Nazimaa shook her head as the statue pushed back. However, Nazimaa side-stepped, throwing the statue guardian off-balance, and she snatched its spear from it hands. As it stumbled forward, she twirled the spear in the air and swung it down, connecting with the statue’s head, knocking it clearly off its shoulders.

  “Oh crap,” said Tracey.

  “That’s not good,” said Mary, pausing mid-throw.

  Nazimaa’s eyes burned like hot coals in her skull, and her chest illumination burned with hateful fury. Tracey pulled on Mary to run, but she felt something stop her cold. Icy fingers probed at her soul, as she felt her life begin to fade away from her body.

  She heard a wordless voice in her mind, faint, calling to her. However, unlike the frigid sensation racking her soul, this voice was warm and familiar. It began to grow in volume and intensity until it filled her mind and chased away Nazimaa’s dark tendrils. Tracey recognized the voice as Peter’s.

  She turned to find him squaring off with Nazimaa, his orb radiating in his chest and his eyes glowing bright like the sun, fixated on the demon. Confused, the now live Simians standing behind them watched the exchange in awe, pounding their chests and bouncing off the walls of the cavern. They appeared to recognize the demon. Tracey guessed this wasn’t the first time they had seen this battle, only last time it was with different players.

  Having been released from Nazimaa’s frosty death grip, Mary gasped for air, recovering.

  “Are you all right?” asked Tracey.

  Mary nodded, panting. “I’m…okay…How…are you?”

  “I’m okay.” However, Tracey’s heart was pounding in her chest, threatening to punch its way through. Peter and Nazimaa seemed to be locked in a stalemate, each canceling out the other’s power.

  “What do we do now?” asked Tracey.

  “We kill this prehistoric bitch,” said Mary. Before Tracey could stop her, Mary lunged at Nazimaa, rock in-hand, swinging it at the demon’s head. However, Nazimaa cast the briefest glances her way, and Mary froze. Her body convulsed, and she dropped to the floor.

  “Mary!” Tracey wanted to run over to her, but she thought better of it. It was too close to that monster, the new Death Lord.

  She turned to Peter, her mind frantic, struggling to figure out how she should help. She didn’t want to lose Peter, not again, and not to this prehistoric witch. She had returned to this horrifying place to bring him back because she loved him.

  Suddenly, she felt another voice inside her mind, calling to her, instructing her to help Peter. Only this time, it wasn’t Peter’s voice. It was her own. She had an idea. She unslung her pack and unzipped it…

  *

  Peter leaned in toward Nazimaa, and she in toward him, as they locked in a high-stakes contest of opposing powers. Both of their eyes burned in their sockets, and the blinding illumination from each of their orbs—his golden and hers an icy blue—combined to bathe the room in an ethereal green light.

  Peter looked around for Tracey, but she had vanished. He saw Mary lying still on the ground at Nazimaa’s feet, and he became filled with a righteous rage. However, no matter how hard he pushed, he felt unable to budge the demon.

  He caught something out of the corner of his eye, the briefest distortion in the surreal green light. It circumvented Nazimaa, passing behind her. Peter smiled as he sensed what it was—Tracey was hidden under some kind of light-bending camouflage blanket. He saw her hand reach out, visible, holding the red flare gun from the Jeep.

  *

  Tracey shrugged off part of her cover and held the flare gun to the back of the demon’s head. She saw Peter glance over at her, a grin creeping across his face.

  Nazimaa, sensing something amiss, turned her head. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open in horror when she noticed Tracey—but it was too late.

  Tracey rammed the red flare gun into the demon’s mouth and fired. Nazimaa’s mouth erupted in a bright red light. The wraith’s hands gripped her face as she broke her standoff with Peter and staggered sideways, emitting a wordless shriek that caused Tracey and the now live Simians to cover their ears in agony.

  Her attack disrupted, Peter capitalized on the opportunity and doubled his efforts, digging deep for the last of whatever reserves he had left. He felt his attack against Nazimaa amplify, pushing back her wave of cold death and darkness, his own inner force threatening to overtake her. He felt the demon’s strength begin to yield under his, and he sensed her panic rising up inside her. The magnitude of his total power shook the cavern. The ground rumbled under their feet, shaking violently, but Peter kept his focus.

  Nazimaa, however, staggered, losing her footing. Her power receded into her body, and the power of the life orb exploded in a bright flash of light.
>
  *

  The light-bending camouflage blanket (a la Poseidon Tech) fell from Tracey’s shoulders as she felt wave after wave of Peter’s power envelop her. She let the flare gun slip out of her hand, but she did not hear it hit the stone floor. As she embraced his energy, she felt her essence merge with his until they became one. She felt the power of the life orb as if it was in her own chest and intertwined with Peter’s will, creating a synergy. She closed her eyes and felt the room. She felt Peter and the Simian warriors. She felt Peter’s love and sacrifice, and she felt the Simians’ fear and uncertainty. She also felt her own love, loyalty, and conviction, and fed it into Peter’s power.

  *

  Peter’s vision was white-washed. When his rods and cones recovered, he saw Nazimaa lying on the ground, her lips split, scorched, and bloody. Mary struggled to her feet, holding her head.

  Peter ran over to Tracey, his face and body sweaty from exertion. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded.

  They were no longer one, but the feeling of their joining remained. He had never felt closer to her before in his life, and he knew she felt the same.

  “I love you,” she said, her voice strong but sweet.

  They kissed each other deeply, their souls merging again. When they broke their embrace, Mary was beside them. Peter saw Nazimaa was standing again. She looked terrified, furious, and spent. Her eyes glowed, as did the death orb in her chest, and she gesticulated wildly, summoning the very worst of her dark power.

  But nothing happened.

  Peter turned to Tracey, astonished. “I didn’t feel anything. Did you?”

  Tracey shook her head, a smile creeping across her face. “I didn’t either.”

  Mary smirked. “She’s lost her power.”

  Peter turned on Nazimaa. “It won’t work anymore. You’re defeated. It’s over.”

  “No!” croaked Nazimaa in torment, her mouth melted. Her eyes glowed and then dimmed. “No! It can’t be! I am lord over death and darkness! Heel to!”

  Tracey pulled up the corner of her mouth into a smirk. “Get over yourself.”

  Peter felt new presences behind him. He whirled around to find many more live Simians behind him, awakened in the catacombs by his explosion of life energy. Males and females all looked on, totally engrossed.

  The crowd began to stir, and apes started to part, making way for something. Peter saw a massive figure wade through the crowd, its head and shoulders a head above the others. When it reached the front, Peter recognized what could only be the Simian King. On his right was his queen, and on his left was his daughter.

  Peter leaned into Tracey and murmured. “I think I did it again.”

  Tracey nodded, stunned. “You woke up another race.”

  “So much for not interfering in the natural order,” quipped Mary.

  The Simian King regarded Peter, Tracey, and Mary, studying them with eyes that were all too human. He then shifted his gaze to Nazimaa. His expression changed when he looked upon her. His face contorted with anger, and he grunted. He slammed the butt of his spear into the ground and pounded his chest with his free hand.

  Nazimaa froze, paralyzed with fear. Her humanoid face bore an expression of disbelief at history about to repeat itself.

  The Simian King looked back at Peter, Tracey, and Mary, his expression softening. When his eyes settled on Peter’s life orb, he bowed his head in reverence. The Simian Queen and her daughter, who had only been watching, stepped forward, extending their hands.

  Peter felt a tugging sensation within his chest, but he didn’t fight it. The life orb drifted out of his chest and floated across to the Simian Queen. She took it in her hands and pushed it into her own chest, her body absorbing it effortlessly.

  Nazimaa cried out from behind them, but Peter didn’t dare turn around. He already knew what had happened. The death orb drifted past him and Tracey. The Simian Princess reached out, accepted the orb, and absorbed it into her chest.

  “The orbs have been returned to their rightful owners,” murmured Peter.

  The Simian King gestured for Peter and Tracey to leave the chamber. They all understood what he wanted.

  “What about Nazimaa?” asked Mary.

  Peter looked back. “She’s toast. Let’s get out of here.”

  As they walked to the back of the room where the staircase led up to the statue, Peter heard the Simian King grunt orders. The crowd erupted, rushing Nazimaa. Peter turned around in time to see them fall upon her, tearing her powerless mortal body apart.

  Chapter 16

  Having just survived the battle with a demon and having awoken yet another species on the “island,” Peter and the two ladies walked along the river, back towards base camp. It was a long walk, and they currently slogged in silence, but the silence had nothing to do with exhaustion.

  He and Tracey had shared a moment. The two had momentarily become one, and the intimate experience had left his mind reeling. It was the closest he had ever felt toward Tracey, and he still felt the wake of her presence in his mind.

  However, since the temple, Mary was understandably quiet—not quite sullen, but withdrawn. She only looked ahead as she walked to his left, while Tracey on his right shot him furtive glances and smiles. A couple of times she walked close, and their fingertips touched on the verge of hand-holding. However, they each thought better of doing it with Mary present.

  Peter broke the silence. “It’s strange not having the orb inside me anymore. I feel detached from the island, cut off. Yet, it’s a relief. Too much power and responsibility. I think it’s in the right hands now.” He hoped that was indeed true.

  “Why do you think the Simians went extinct?” asked Tracey.

  Peter shook his head. “I don’t know. I hope we did the right thing by bringing them back.”

  “I guess that makes you the selection pressure for their return,” said Mary, breaking the ice. “A selection pressure can be anything, really.”

  “Or anyone,” added Peter. “Nazimaa brought me here. So, technically she was the selection pressure.”

  “It’ll be up to the Simians to adapt and survive,” said Mary. “Either they will, or they won’t.”

  “Their very presence will be a selection pressure on the Zehhaki,” said Peter. “Nazimaa was right about that. There needs to be balance.”

  “I wonder how the Umazoa are,” said Tracey. “I wonder if Hiu rescued the others.”

  “I wonder if the Simians will be allies or competitors,” said Peter.

  “Who cares?” said Mary. “At this point, I want off this island.”

  “Do you think base camp will still be there?” asked Tracey. “What if the dinosaurs got to it, or they cleared out and returned home?”

  Peter couldn’t reach out with his powers to sense Poseidon Tech’s presence because he no longer possessed the orb. He had actually grown accustomed to having access to its powers. A chill shot down his spine at the realization he was no longer ‘indestructible,’ nor could he heal his friends should they come to harm on the way back to base camp.

  “Listen, about before…” began Mary, jerking Peter out of his worry.

  “Mary…” began Tracey, her tone apologetic.

  “No,” insisted Mary, holding up a hand in front of her. “We need to talk about it. I’m not mad. Really.”

  “That’s a relief,” sighed Peter.

  Mary looked at him for the first time since they had left the temple. “The truth is, you’re a great guy, Peter…but, I don’t know…”

  “Maybe we’re not right for each other,” offered Peter, finishing her thought.

  “Exactly. And it’s no one’s fault.”

  “No, of course not,” said Peter.

  Mary smiled at him and Tracey. “You two are obviously meant for each other. I think you two have something special. You always have.”

  Tracey smiled, glancing at Peter. “I think I always realized it. I was just afraid to acknowledge it. I didn’t want to
mess everything up.”

  Peter returned her smile. It was wonderful to hear her say it. “Geez, it only took an interdimensional island with dinosaurs, lizard men, ape warriors, and a demon…”

  All three shared a laugh.

  However, their revelry was cut short by movement in the jungle to their right. All three stopped dead in their tracks. Peter felt positively vulnerable without his orb.

  “What is it?” whispered Tracey.

  “I don’t know,” said Peter, breathless.

  The vegetation all around them began to rustle and move. Large figures burst out into the clearing, surrounding Peter, Tracey, and Mary. The Simians surrounded them.

  Peter took a deep breath, but his muscles remained tense. “They followed us.”

  “Why?” asked Mary, suspicious.

  The Simians clutched spears, but they didn’t point them at the humans. They waited, watching the party with uncannily human-like eyes and faces. The Simian King burst forth, bounding on his legs and arms, stopping short in front of the three humans.

  Peter did his best not to flinch. He stood his ground as Tracey and Mary shrunk behind him. He didn’t want to show fear, for in the jungle fear could be interpreted as weakness. This wasn’t like when he awakened the Zehhaki, and he was in possession of the orb. He would not be viewed as a deity by the Simians.

  The Simian King pounded his chest once with his right fist. Peter, taking a chance, did the same.

  “What are you doing?” Tracey muttered, mortified by the gesture.

  “I don’t know,” said Peter. It was the truth.

  The Simian King grunted at them, trying to communicate. He gesticulated at the jungle all around them, and then he addressed the other Simians. Three massive males stepped forward right on cue. They each snatched up Peter, Tracey, and Mary and swung them onto their backs.