by Alex Just
~ Island – pacific ~
Julia’s scream was so loud and horror stricken that Adrianna felt her heart constrict in sympathy. The door had slammed shut on Tom’s pain-filled face like a guillotine separating them from each other forever. She watched the helicopter angled in the opposite direction to her and fly off. A smoke trail curled lazily down towards the earth from the helicopters rear. It seemed to pick up speed as it neared the ground, sensing it was close to the target. It impacted with the top of the tower in a shower of explosive sparks, causing the roof too disintegrate in a huff of flames and dust. It seemed to settle and then another blast shook the building and it began to fold downwards in on itself. They’d been so close to getting off the island, but now that seemed irrelevant. Tom was gone.
‘Julia, we’ll get him back, Stan will find him. We have to go now; the rockets,’ Adrianna gently shook her shoulder.
‘Of course, I’m sorry,’ her response was emotionless, automatic.
‘Stan’s got the jeep and he’s bringing it round the back. Let’s go.’
Not wanting to waste another minute on the roof, the pair crawled back the way they’d come and clambered down onto the ground. Not a second later Stan’s jeep roared around the corner and came to a skidding halt in front of them. Adrianna hopped into the front and Julia clambered into the back seat. In the middle of the back row, the butt of an automatic weapon hung down. The car was already moving, speeding off towards the prison.
‘Get hold of that gun, and stand up through the skylight. Where to Julia?’ Stan asked.
‘Follow this road and turn left at the end. It’s all the way down there. Just keep going along here.’ Julia swung herself up, avoiding being flung across the back of the jeep, and latched on to the gun’s big handles, her fingers cupping the trigger. She aimed at a nearby tree and fired. The gun jolted furiously in her hands and ripped a large branch clean off the trunk.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ yelled Stan.
‘Just testing the gun,’ she replied determinedly.
‘Well don’t, OK. Save the ammo for when it really matters.’
‘Fine,’ she replied stubbornly.
They continued along the winding road that cut through the jungle. Rounding the last bend they hit the last straight patch which ran right up to the hidden door in the solid cliff wall. Ahead they were met by oncoming headlights that shafted through the dawn twilight, almost blinding Stan. The car’s radio crackled into life.
‘What the hell is going on back at camp?’A soldier’s voice demanded over the static. Stan knew that everything depended on this next bit.
‘Julia, as soon as we’re close enough I want you to empty the magazine on that car understand? Just shoot at it, and make sure you hit something.’
‘We’re under attack, the prisoners have escaped we need back up. Have you managed to fire the rockets yet?’ Stan spoke into the radio hurriedly aware of the approaching vehicle.
‘They have been programmed to launch and should hit the skies any second now. How bad is it?’ was the soldier’s reply.
‘No!’ Stan’s yell was recorded on the radio.
‘Could you repeat th-’ Bullets smashed into the windscreen, the tires and the engine of the oncoming car, shredding it, metal screamed as it was torn apart. The enemy jeep drifted out of control and in mid-skid blew up.
Metal rained down on Stan’s car as he slowed to a stop. The island seemed to shake. It felt like a giant earthquake was rattling the foundations of the very rocks they were standing on. Looking up at the mountain, the three made out at least twenty orange streaks of fire shooting heavenward, bound for a destination in space. They split apart from each other, angling for different corners of the sky. Stan hit the wheel in frustration and swore furiously.
In the silence that followed he reversed the jeep and headed back towards the camp, the atmosphere in the car was heavily subdued, as they all understood the consequences of their failure. The satellites would be hit and communication links would be broken everywhere. It was the beginning of a worldwide disaster. Rebirth had been set in motion.
As they approached the first burning buildings, a blood red line could be seen sailing across the horizon as the sun began its journey into morning. The jungle was silent, and there were no more sounds of bombs exploding or the clatter of guns firing. It was finally over, but it had cost them all. As the jeep turned in towards the tower, guns were trained on them and Martin stepped up. In a loud voice that echoed around the silent complex he demanded that they get out with their hands raised above their heads. Wearily Stan got out as did Julia and Adrianna, and they surveyed what was left of the once austere complex. It was a tumbling heap of concrete and steel, twisted disproportionally with wreckage piled everywhere. Small fires still burned and the occasional whoosh could be heard as an explosion went off or something caught light.
‘Oh it’s you,’ Martin’s voice held relief but there was the unmistakable tinge of bitterness at seeing Julia again.
From the thirty of them who had set out to fight, a pitiful twelve remained relatively unscathed, and another six were badly injured. They’d won the battle but not the war and it had still cost them dearly.
‘What were those orange streaks of light we saw in the sky about half an hour ago?’ one of the men standing in the small group asked Stan.
‘That was the launching of rockets that are going up to destroy all our satellite’s used for communication. We couldn’t get there in time to stop them.’ He bowed his head in shame. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘We all did our best; we’re now free and can try and get off this cursed island,’ the man replied generously.
‘How’re we going to do that?’ spoke a man with a balding head bitterly.
‘You heard didn’t you? There is no communication with the outside world. Who do you want to call to pick us up? Plus, any phones or radios are long dead.’ He gestured around them, at the destruction that was left.
A silence stretched out across the complex. Everyone was thinking the same; they would spend the rest of their lives on this island. Everyone except for Stan who’d raised his head and looked at everybody. To their surprise he smiled.
‘Actually, there is a way off this place. When we blew up the planes, we left four of them untouched, capable of flying and fully fuelled. His smile grew into a grin.
‘If anyone here or in the prison can fly, then they will come with me and we will get rescue.’ A cheer greeted this statement and smiles went all round. All except Martin whose expression still betrayed the raw pain from his parent’s deaths.
***
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