Castaways (26 page)

He wondered if such interspecies crossbreeding would actually work. Then he thought of Becka again and his fears returned, stronger than before. He had to find her before it was too late.

Jerry scanned the rest of the cave. About twelve feet up the far side of the cavern was a rock ledge, running along the wall's length like a catwalk. It was dotted with several smaller caverns and grottoes. There was no sign of Becka or Pauline, and he saw no other tunnels exiting the main hall. If they were indeed still alive and being held captive, his

best bet was to look for them on the ledge above. But how could he get up there? At the rear of the cavern, he noticed a large pile of boulders and debris about eight feet high. Positioned on top of this mound was a crude ladder, fashioned from bamboo and lashed together with vines. He saw no other way of attaining the ledge. Apparently, this was the only means of getting to the upper level.

Sure. All I have to do is stroll through the fucking enclave there and avoid getting ripped to tiny little bite-sized pieces by a bunch of angry mothers trying to protect their young, then scale that ladder without breaking my fucking neck, then find Becka—if she's even up there.

No, she's up there. She
has
to be. Because if she isn't. . .

If she wasn't, then Jerry wondered if he could even go on. To have survived the storm and the subsequent massacre of his fellow contestants, to see Becka taken from him and to feel the helpless, futile desperation that followed her capture, to have ventured this far into the tribe's warren, and to witness Troy's maniacal sacrifice—if Becka wasn't there, or worse, if she was there but dead—then there was really no point anymore. He'd be better off just walking into the cave, laying down his spear, and letting the remaining tribe members do to him what they'd done to the others.

Then he thought of her smile and the trusting expression on her face—and the kiss.

Troy's voice ran through his mind.
Just make sure you fucking save her.

Okay, Troy,
he thought.
If you were here, you'd

probably say something profound like, "Fuck it." So, fuck it. Fuck them all.

He peered into the cavern. The closest of the creatures were about ten feet away—a young mother, almost a child herself, judging by her height and weight, and two small children who were presumably hers. One of them was an infant, surprisingly free of physical deformities, as far as he could see. The other was maybe two or three years old, and blind. Its eyes were milky white, with no cornea or pupils. Yellow pus leaked from the corners of both useless orbs, drying and matting in the fur on its face. It stared sightlessly, and its bulbous, misshapen head lolled back and forth, barely supported by its thin neck.

Fuck it,
he repeated to himself.

Jerry stood and shoved the flashlight into his pocket. Then, gripping his spear in both hands, he belted out a scream and charged into the cave. The startled creatures leapt to their feet and scattered, frightened by the outburst. Their hooting shrieks filled the air. Mothers clung to their infants and swept the older children behind them. They bared their teeth, snarling at him. Taking advantage of the chaos and uncertainty that his entrance had caused, Jerry grabbed the blind child and yanked it away from its clinging, three-breasted mother. The creature held on to her spawn, tugging on its arm. Jerry pulled harder. The young cryptid bawled and screamed, terrified at being used as a tug-of-war piece. Its sightless eyes jiggled frantically. Jerry thrust his spear at the older creature and she shrank away, releasing the child. He spun the toddler around, putting its back to

him. Then, with one arm coiled tightly around its scrawny neck, he held the tip of his spear to his throat and faced the tribe.

They circled him slowly, clearly enraged by this violent intrusion. While not as physically large as their male counterparts, the females possessed many of the same dangerous attributes, including the long, curved talons and razor-sharp teeth. They displayed both to him, promising of what was to come. As one, they drew closer.

"Back off," he shouted. "Back up right now, or the kid gets it."

To accentuate his threat, Jerry pressed the spear into the youngster's throat. The child quivered. Hot urine trickled down its leg, pooling around Jerry's foot. The ammonia-like stench was almost overpowering. Jerry coughed and his eyes watered. Mistaking it for a sign of weakness or doubt, the females inched closer. His hostage's mother bellowed her fury.

"I mean it," he continued, trying not to choke. "Get the fuck back!"

Jerry was certain that they didn't recognize his words, but they clearly understood his intent. Growling, the adults backed off, retreating to a safer distance. Their eyes, however, never left him. The very atmosphere felt malevolent. Could he really blame them? After all, he was the intruder here. He was the one who'd entered their home and was menacing one of their children.

No, screw that. They started this.

But for what reasons? To feed, certainly. It was obvious to Jerry that the island's ecosystem could no longer support a tribe of this size. Most of the

creatures showed signs of being malnourished. And perhaps, to expand their breeding stock and end the mutations that were plaguing their community. Were their methods evil? No. They were primitive and savage and animalistic, but the same could be said of some of mankind's transgressions from its less-than-proud past.

He pushed the blind creature forward, and it stumbled. Jerry felt a momentary pang of guilt, but he forced the emotion back down and clenched his jaw. He kept the spear point against the child's throat, making an indentation but not piercing the skin.

"It's going to be okay," Jerry murmured, and then wondered who he was trying to convince— himself or his captive. "Everybody just stay back. I don't want to do this, but you've left me no choice."

"Jerry?"

He paused, shocked at hearing another human voice. All around him, the tribe growled softly.

"Becka?" He risked a glance upward at the ledge, searching for her.

"I'm here. So are Pauline and Shonette. Jerry, what's happening?"

"Oh my God! Becka . . . are you okay? What did they—"

"Never mind that now. What's going on?" "You're rescued."

The tribe's agitation increased as Jerry and Becka shouted back and forth. A few of the braver ones began to edge closer again. Jerry jerked the sagging hostage upright again and renewed his pressure

on the spear point. The child's breathing turned into a harsh wheezing, but Jerry didn't release his hold.

"Get back, goddamn it!"

"Jerry, what's happening?"

"There's no time to explain. Just listen to me. Can you guys walk?"

There was a pause, and then Becka yelled, "I think so."

"Then get down here. And hurry! I don't know how long I can hold them off. They're pretty angry with me right now."

Jerry felt himself starting to panic again. He took a deep breath and watched the circling females carefully.

"This is what we call a Mexican standoff." His voice cracked.

As if sensing his fear, the tribe grew braver again. They slashed at the air with their claws and gestured menacingly. The mother of his captive snapped her slavering jaws, and stretched an arm toward her child. The mewling toddler reached for her, but Jerry pulled him back.

"Stay still. It will all be over soon. Hurry up, Becka!"

If she heard him, she didn't respond. "Becka?"

His shout boomed across the cavern. The only response was from the creatures. They began to creep forward again, and this time, when Jerry hollered at them to stop, they ignored him.

* * *

"Is it really him?" Shonette asked.

Becka nodded and tried to get Pauline to sit up. "Shonette, help me get her on her feet."

"Come on, Pauline. The cavalry is here. It's time to go."

Pauline opened her eyes again, looked at them, then shook her head. She tried to lie down again, but Becka pulled her back up.

"Pauline," Becka urged. "We have to go. You can't stay here."

"Yes, I can," she slurred. "You two go ahead. I'm just going to close my eyes and go to sleep for a long time."

"The hell you are," Shonette said. "Get up. Now!"

Pauline ignored them both. "When I sleep, I can't feel anything. I don't think. I don't feel. It's nice."

Jerry's voice echoed up from below, urging Becka to hurry up.

Becka put Pauline's left arm over her shoulder, and nodded at Shonette to do the same with her right. Shonette did, and together, they lifted the protesting woman up off the floor. They had to support her between them. Pauline was dead weight in their arms. She hung limply, refusing to use her legs.

Jerry hollered again. "Becka?"

"Pauline," Becka pleaded, "you have to help us. Jerry can't stay down there forever. We have to get moving. Please?"

"Will you both leave me alone if I do?"

"Yes," Shonette snapped. "Hell, yes. If it will get your ass in gear, then I'll promise to never speak to you again. Now let's go."

They shuffled toward the edge of the stone ledge,

still supporting most of Pauline's weight. She limped along between them, her head hung low, her chin brushing against her bloodied chest.

A tumultuous cry rang out from below. It sounded like the creatures were growing more agitated. Becka heard Jerry's voice beneath their growls and snarls. It had gone up several octaves. He sounded terrified.

"Jerry! We're coming."

"Hurry. They're getting worked up again."

They hurried to the edge of the ledge and peered over the side. Jerry was near the main tunnel. He held a young creature in front of him as a hostage. Most of the tribe was gone, leaving only the females, children, and a few of the infirm behind. The angry mothers had closed ranks around him on three sides, and were inching closer.

"Over there." Shonette pointed to a rickety-looking ladder poking up over the lip of the ledge.

They hurried over to it. The ladder's base was positioned in a pile of rocks.

"That doesn't look very sturdy," Shonette said.

"It's either that or jump," Becka pointed out. "But how are we going to get through them all? Jerry's on the other side."

Shonette let go of Pauline, and she sagged lower.

"Stand up," Shonette told her. "You've got to do your part now."

"What are you doing?" Becka asked.

"Just hang on."

She ran back across the ledge and disappeared into the alcove. When she returned, Shonette was dragging the body of the chieftain.

"We put him between us, just like we did with Pauline. If they think he's our hostage, they'll let us pass."

"That will never work," Becka said. "One look, and they'll see that I bashed his head in."

"That doesn't prove he's dead. And if we get Pauline to walk directly in front of us, that will help block the view."

Realizing that she didn't have any better ideas and that there was no time to argue in any case, Becka nodded her head in agreement and then started down the ladder. When she reached the rock pile, she glanced over at the tribe. They hadn't noticed her descent—they were all preoccupied with Jerry and his captive. She motioned at Shonette to hurry.

Grunting, Shonette grabbed the corpse by its ankles and lowered it over the side. Becka almost toppled over, but managed to secure it. Then Shonette clambered down to the floor as well. They readjusted the dead creature between them, then motioned at Pauline to come down. Pauline shook her head.

"Pauline," Becka pleaded. "Come on!"

Whimpering, she eased out over the ledge and lowered herself over the side. Then, moving slowly, she began her descent. When she'd joined the others, they made her stand in front of them.

"Okay," Shonette whispered. "Just stay right in front of us and don't panic. We stick to this wall here and put our backs to it. Go straight toward Jerry and don't stop for anything. If it looks like they've caught on that their fearless leader is dead, then toss him to the side and run. Everybody understand?"

Becka nodded. Pauline just blinked sleepily.

"Pauline, do you understand?"

"Yeah. Walk in front. Stick to the wall."

"Right," Shonette said. "Let's go."

They started forward. The corpse weighed a lot more than Pauline had, and Becka and Shonette struggled in exertion. The leader stank, and they breathed through their mouths to avoid coughing. They'd managed to traverse half the cavern's length before the tribe noticed them. The outcry became even more frenzied when they saw their elder slumped over between the women. Becka snuck a glance at Jerry. His eyes were wide, and his expression was shocked. But beneath that, he seemed relieved to see her. His gaze strayed to her nudity. Then he quickly looked away.

"What are you doing?" he called.

"Stay there," Becka yelled. "Keep them off us just a few seconds more."

Half the tribe turned and came toward them. The other half remained where they were, creeping up on Jerry and his hostage.