Jane coughed, water spraying from her lips and mixing into the rain that continued to fall. She hurt everywhere as though she’d been through a spin cycle in Maura’s washer.
“Maura!” Jane sat up quickly.
There was almost too much for her to take in. She was sitting in golden sand on a beach littered with debris; shoes and lifejackets mainly. Her back screamed in pain and she wriggled free from her backpack.
“Maura!?” She hollered into the rain. Seeing a lifeless form wash up down the beach, Jane swallowed the bile that rose quickly in her throat and took off at a sprint.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Maura groaned. The rocks she had washed up on had ripped the skin across her thigh and, while the injuries were relatively minor, she was still bleeding heavily. Carefully, she clambered over the rocks, looking for a more level setting.
“Jane?” she called into the gloomy morning light. Her words were engulfed by a huge clap of thunder. Stumbling onto the beach, she scanned the area quickly searching for the wild mane of hair that would identify her lover. She spied Jane’s wild locks many metres down the beach; far beyond the sound of her voice, especially in the storm.
Satisfied that Jane was safe, Maura peeled her thin summer trousers away and tossed them to the sand. Stepping slowly into the ocean, she grit her teeth as the sting of salt water cleaned her wounds.
“Oh jackpot!” she cheered as a large bucket bobbed in the surf, dancing its way towards her on the current. She reached out, snagging the container before heading back to shore. Crouching on the beach, she dug a shallow hole and settled the bucket inside before scooping more sand around it to anchor it in place.
Looking back down the beach, she slipped from her backpack and lifejacket, abandoning the latter in the sand and started the long walk to Jane.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Oh god no!” Jane sank into the sand over the lifeless body of Elaine Ford. She checked quickly for a pulse, for any sign of life and found none. “Maura!!” Jane screamed desperately into the slowly easing rain as she began CPR on the cold body.
As Maura neared, she could tell from the motion of Jane’s body that she was performing CPR and, despite knowing it would exacerbate her injuries, she ran as fast as she could.
She slid to the ground next to Jane, if the brunette was surprised about her appearance, she didn’t let it show.
“How long as she been like this?” Maura asked as she checked Elaine’s vital signs, or lack thereof.
“I don’t know!” Jane told her, a frown skittering briefly over her finely chiselled features when she noticed Maura’s bare legs. “She washed up on the beach about five minutes ago.”
A huge bang made both of them jump and turn.
“What the hell?” Jane glared into the treeline. “That was gunshots!”
Maura paused from chest compressions and Jane bent automatically, breathing her own life into the body before her. Both women knew, sadly from experience, that drownings in cold water had the best chance of revival. The cold water slowing down and preserving the body, giving it the best chance possible.
“We’re in the middle of nowhere Jane.” Maura’s breath was laboured as she worked diligently; infusing every ounce of strength she had into trying to revive the woman who had been so sweet to both of them. “It’s just thunder.”
Raising an eyebrow, Jane considered the information. There was no way she was hearing gunshots, not out here. Her life, her experience familiarised an unfamiliar sound, that’s all. She tried to rationalise with herself. The fact that the rain had stopped had been the reason she hadn’t immediately thought of thunder.
“She’s gone Jane.” Maura said sadly.
Jane hung her head, she’d known as soon as Elaine had washed up on the beach that she couldn’t be saved, but still she tried. She had to, it’s what she did.
“Where are your pants?” Jane asked suddenly.
In all the drama, Maura had almost forgotten she’s removed them. Getting cautiously to her feet, she hugged Jane fiercely. “I took them off.”
Jane wriggled from her embrace. “You’re bleeding!” She pulled away from Maura and ran back the few feet to where she’d dropped her bag, pulling items from it and adding to the litter already strewn across the beach.
“Jane, stop.” Maura reached her side, her hand resting gently on her shoulder. “I’m fine.” She pulled at Jane’s arm, aiding the taller woman to her feet. “The salt water will clean it out and help it to heal.” Jane’s face crinkled softly. She didn’t want to leave Maura half naked and bleeding in the sand. “Please don’t waste our supplies.”
Jane sighed but continued to dig in the bag. “Here.” She handed Maura an oversized pair of cargo shorts. “Put these on.” Maura smiled, accepting the garments and resting them over her shoulder.
“I should get out of the sand.” Maura started to explain.
“RUN!!!”
The word was carried on the wind. Jane and Maura turned as one, facing back down to the south end of the island to see a taller shape sprinting and falling into the sand before getting to his feet and continuing his frantic dash. He began waving his arms, despite the danger he knew he was in.
From somewhere behind him, there was another ear splitting bang, followed by a faint scream.
“RUN!!” He screamed again, waving at Jane and Maura as he neared.
“Tag?” Jane squinted at the figure.
“Jane!” Tag finally made out her shape, still gesturing wildly. “RUN!!!” Another huge bang split the air.
“Now that was gunshots!” Jane told Maura, her eyes wide with fear.
“Get out of the open!” Tag closed the final metres between then in Olympic time, barely slowing to grab Maura’s arm and drag her towards the treeline, knowing Jane would follow without question.
“What the hell is going on?” Jane hissed as they crept into the densest undergrowth they could find.
“I don’t know.” Tag hissed, trying hard to control his breathing. “Our boat hit the rocks down there.” He gestured towards the end of the island he’d appeared from. “We made it to land pretty much unscathed. As soon as the rain stopped, there was this loud bang.” He shook his head. “Then I looked up and this guy just hit the deck.”
“We should help him.” Maura said softly, cautious to keep her voice down.
Tag only shook his head. “There’s nothing left of him to save.” He gagged as he spoke. “His head literally exploded.”
More shots ripped through the otherwise pleasant day that was breaking over the horizon and all three instinctively ducked.
“Did anyone else get hit?” Jane asked, her dark eyes scanning the forest carefully for any sign of movement.
“Lana took a few.” he whispered. “A couple of others. I was scared, I ran away.” His voice shook with tears. “I didn’t even try and help.”
Maura wrapped her arms around him as he sobbed quietly into her shoulder.
“You did the right thing.” Jane whispered, rubbing circles into his back. “Always make the fight your own.”
“But I left them.” His voice cracked.
“You can’t help people if you’re dead.” Jane whispered.
As Tag sobbed into her damp hair, Maura was suddenly very aware of her state of dress and shifted uncomfortably. As his tears subsided, Tag pulled back, staring at the women quizzically.
“Did I interrupt?” he asked sheepishly, a deep blush staining his cheeks.
Jane looked Maura up and down quickly, realising his implication and rolling her eyes. “No, you didn’t!” she told him firmly.
More shots thundered around the jungle and Jane grabbed Maura’s hand, pulling her deeper into the greenery. “We need to find some cover.” She growled as they moved.
“Jane wait.” Maura rooted her feet in place, forcing Jane to stop. “Can I at least put some pants on?”
Jane blushed. She was so intent on getting them all out of harms way that she hadn’t paused to consider that Maura might not want to run half naked through the jungle. Behind her, Tag looked disappointed.
“That’s probably a good idea.” Jane agreed, shooting the younger man an icy glare and causing him to immediately drop his gaze.
Struggling to remain crouched as she redressed, Maura felt rather foolish. There were more important things to worry about than her almost bare ass. “I’m sorry.” She whispered.
Jane smiled at her. Of course Maura would apologise, even when it wasn’t her fault. It was a perfectly reasonable request to want to dress when in the presence of strangers. Tipping her a wink, Jane took her hand and led her slowly towards a large rocky outcrop, hoping to find either shelter or a good vantage point to try and make sense of whatever was going on.
-/-
“Thirty four… thirty five….. thirty six???” Steve counted the shots. There was something very odd happening. In all the time he’d been coming on these trips, they’d never fired more than 20 shots between them. He made a point of counting them, a macabre pass time that had helped to indicate exactly how long they would be there. He’d learnt on his first trip that the others enjoyed the hunt, enjoyed the suffering of others. Bear would often wound one of his ‘prey’ first and let him try and run with either his knee or shoulder blown out. Walter was the most humane of the group, a kill shot directly to the head with large calibre ammo. And Chip? Chip scared the balls clean off of Steve. He was the reason that he hid in the north end of the island. He was unpredictable. On their third trip, Steve had been foraging for berries when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. It was one of the ‘prey’ people. He was bloodied; wide eyes with terror almost to the point of insanity.
Steve had pulled his handgun, knowing the danger he was in but before he could even release the safety, Chip had appeared, stealthy as a cat and literally twisted the man’s head through 180 degrees.
The demonic smile that had played on his face had chilled Steve to the very core of his being. As he’d vanished into the wilderness, Steve had approached the body and what he found had given him nightmares for months to come. Chip had stalked this man; he had been his play thing. From the injuries on the body, it had been obvious that his death had not been fast, or painless. He had various wounds ranging from bruises to stab wounds; each one a close contact injury. Garrotte marks around his neck suggested Chip had tried to strangle him, although Steve knew that had that been his choice the man would already be long dead. He had been instilling fear into his prey.
In all the times they’d been here, he’d never known Chip to fire a single shot. That left only Bear and Walter. Bear he knew was an expert marksman, each of his shots hit their target. He’d missed only once that Steve was aware of. All of his victims took two hits, one to disable them, the other to kill.
In the previous days, he’d estimated, by the firing, at least 3 deaths, that left only five, maybe fewer if Chip had caught one or two. Now the gunfire was abundant.
Collecting together his meagre things, Steve loaded his handgun, released the safety and headed out to the south side of the island to see what was happening.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It had taken him a couple of hours but when he reached the top of the huge sand dune overlooking the southernmost beach, he wished it could have taken longer. Littered over the paradisiacal beach were bodies, many more than there had any need or right to be. Women, men and a small child lay motionless in the sand, blood pooling around them and turning the idyllic landscape into a twisted hell.
Steve backed quickly behind the dune and vomited violently into the long grass before turning and hiding in the treeline. This most definitely was not part of the plan. From the debris and bodies, it seemed as though a lifeboat or other planned holiday vessel had washed up; its occupants becoming pawns in their death game.
“Some good shooting.”
Steve spun, raising his gun and having it come to rest right between the eyes of Chip.
“Even I’m impressed, but it lacks finesse.” He continued, unphased by having a weapon pointed at him. “Put the gun down boy, before you hurt yourself.” He pushed the barrel from his face and smiled.
“Looks like the boys had a good time.” He seemed almost wistful as he regarded the wasted life on the beach.
“But… but they’re innocents.” Steve gagged once more as he reached for his water bottle, rinsing his mouth and turning his back to the carnage.
“Ain’t no such creature.” Chip laughed coldly. “But they missed one.” His eyes lit up as he spoke and Steve felt a fresh wave of nausea roll over him. “Saw him run off that way.” He gestured vaguely towards the north end. “That one’s mine.” He turned and started to walk away, pausing only to give Steve a toothy grin over his shoulder.
Watching Chip leave, Steve realised that this trip somehow would be the last. The taste for murder had driven these men beyond the boundaries of sanity. The look Chip had given him bordered on demonic. He needed help, and he needed it now.