His body was on fire or so it seemed. He fought to open his eyes, but the blazing noonday sun was dazzling in its appearance. His stomach reeled and he coughed, bringing up more seawater than he’d thought his stomach could hold. The lifejacket hung in tatters on his body, having been torn apart in his journey over the coral reef.
The cast on his arm seemed to have gained weight and was almost impossible to lift as he tried to sit up. He touched his head and his hand came away sticky. His confused mind refused to make the connection that the red substance on his hand was his own blood.
As he gained his feet he wondered what happened, where he was, and why he felt so alone. He looked up and down the deserted beach, using his hand to shield as much of the sun as possible. He could see a set of tracks leading north and stumbled towards them. He’d gone only a few feet when a blinding headache dropped him to his knees. He gasped and cradled his head in his left hand.
‘Have to get out of the sun,’ he thought as he felt his skin burning. Using every ounce of strength he could muster he stumbled towards the trees. It wasn’t long before the tide washed away the evidence of his tracks and the two sets leading in the opposite direction.
He made it to the tree line and stumbled into the shade before closing his eyes and succumbing to unconsciousness again.
“I found some of those dried foods Josiah showed us, a few matches, a couple
of bottles of whiskey, and some blankets, ” Jackson said as he jumped back from
a wave that rolled in over the area he was searching.
“I found the flare gun, looks like it’s wrapped up tight against water damage. Also found a compass, a strip of nylon rope, and believe it or not a picnic basket. We may not have anything to eat but we can eat it off plastic plates,” Standish laughed.
“Leave it to you to find humor in a bunch of plastic,” Jackson chuckled.
“Well, Mr. Jackson, what do you say we bring this bounty back to the others?”
“Let’s do it. It might be easier if we put it all on one of the blankets and carried it back to the base. You sure your shoulder can handle it?”
“My shoulder is much better since Mr. Tanner tore up his shirt, Mr. Jackson... Hey what’s that?”
“What’s what?”
“That over there by the trees,” Standish said as he hurried to the tree line.
“What did you find?” Jackson asked as he spread out the blanket and began putting the treasures on it.
“Looks like something you’ll probably put to good use,” the gambler said as he held up the first aid kit from the boat.
“I certainly can,” Jackson smiled as he opened the watertight container.
‘Nathan, Ezra,’ Chris thought he said the names aloud, but no sound escaped his lips. He tried to fight the blackness that kept encroaching on his mind. He knew they were close if he could only signal his presence. ‘I’m here. Over here,’ once again he only thought he said it. Lights sparked before his closed eyes and he groaned softly. He struggled to sit up but the world tilted at a precarious angle and his body folded back to the ground.
“Did you hear something?” Standish asked as he stood up and listened.
A few seconds passed and Jackson answered. “Nothing. What did you hear?”
“Must have been the wind,” the conman noted, but searched the area once more.
“Probably. Now are you ready to help me with this or what?”
“I’m ready, Mr. Jackson,” Standish said as he lifted his end with a flourish.
The two men stumbled through the wet sand, their tracks were immediately obliterated by the incoming tide.
“We have to head back soon, Vin,” Wilmington said as they topped another hill. They’d dragged themselves through thick underbrush, scrambled over rocky hills, and stumbled over uneven terrain.
“I think we may have found what we need,” Tanner said, as he pointed across an open valley.
“That’s beautiful,” Wilmington said.
The valley below them was a lush tropical forest. A huge waterfall cascaded from high above seeming to come from the rock wall itself. The sun glinted off the shallow pool formed in a crevice of limestone. The water was so crystal clear they could see tiny fish swimming just below the surface.
“Looks like you not only found water, but food too,” Wilmington observed.
“Wish we had something to bring some back to the others,” Tanner said.
“Me too, Pard. What say we get a drink and head back? That way we could get the others back here by nightfall.”
“That sounds good, Buck, but when we get back I’m looking for Chris,” the tracker told his companion.
“Vin, just help me get the injured up here and we’ll both search. JD’s not going to be able to do much with his ribs and Josiah’s going to need help as well.”
“Buck, I have to find him. He’s out there somewhere and he could be hurt badly. Hell, Buck, he’s got a cast on his arm.”
Wilmington’s voice was filled with anger as he grabbed the younger man’s arm. “Don’t you think I know that, Tanner. I’ve known Chris longer than any of you guys. We may not be as close as we used to be, but I’d do anything for that man. Hell, I’d give my right arm to have him here with us, and you don’t own the rights to guilt when it comes to Chris’s life. I’ve had enough of that over the years,” he hissed as he thought of the friendship he shared with the blond.
Vin Tanner knew the older man was right. He knew Chris would want them to concentrate on keeping the others safe but he couldn’t help the picture that played in front of his eyes. The look on Chris’s face when Nathan held his uninjured arm. The look of sheer determination that none of them would bare the guilt for what was about to happen. If he was here he’d be the first to tell Vin to help the others. He could almost hear him speaking the words. ‘Help the living, Tanner, you’re the best hope they got,’ he heard the words in Larabee’s commanding tone. “Sorry, Buck,” he whispered softly.
“So am I, Vin. I want to look for him as badly as you do. It’s just we got to help the others first.,” Wilmington said as he followed the younger man to the water.
It was dark when he opened his eyes again. The headache was still there but not as pronounced. His arm throbbed and he could feel gritty sand working its way into the incision on the injured limb. The material they’d used to line his arm before putting it in the cast soaked up the salt water and made any movement pure agony.
Chris cried out as he gained his feet. The weight of the cast pulling on his shoulder and once again causing the sand to grind into his wound. He stumbled back to the beach in search of the footprints he’d seen earlier. The beach was bathed in the soft glow of a full moon halfway through its zenith. The sky was a vast covering of stars glittering in a kaleidoscope of images that dazzled his mind.
“V...Vin, Buck, anybody,” he called, but his voice came out as a hoarse croak. He stumbled to the edge of the ocean longing to drink, yet knowing this water wouldn’t do him any good. He had to find fresh water. Then he’d find his friends. Smiling he walked back the way he’d come and staggered into the trees. He fell to his knees once more and then tumbled the rest of the way to the ground. He groaned as his arm impacted the ground and the cast slammed into his side.
An image of the mast of the boat colliding with his side reminded him of that injury. Somehow in his dazed state he didn’t notice the pain radiating from the area. His last conscious thought was whether he’d broken some ribs and if so was he in danger of puncturing a lung.
“Looks like Buck and Vin are coming back,” Sanchez observed from his perch on a large boulder.
“I hope they found fresh water,” Jackson said as he stood and watched the two men approaching.
Wilmington and Tanner smiled at the others as they came into the base camp.
“Did you find anything?” Dunne asked.
“A beautiful pool with fresh running water and plenty of fish,” Wilmington answered.
“There’s plenty of fresh fruit in the area as well,” Tanner told them as his eyes were once more drawn to the sea. “We’re going to show you guys how to get there and then I’m going to search for Chris.”
“We’re going to search for Chris,” Wilmington corrected him.
“We won’t be able to make it back to the pool without torches,” Tanner said.
“We’ve got nothing to make torches out of,” Dunne said.
“It seems to me I remember making a torch out of those things over there when I was a kid. I do believe they’ll suffice for us today,” Standish suggested.
“I think you’re right, Brother Ezra,” Sanchez agreed as he stood with the aid of a cane shaped stick. He walked towards the tall reeds and broke one off. “These will do nicely,” he smiled as he walked back to the others.
“I remember those things,” Dunne said excitedly.
“I think we all used those when we were boys,” Wilmington laughed.
“How far is this pool?” Jackson asked as he looked at the three injured men. Although the injuries were minor they would take a toll on the bodies of the fatigued men. He was also worried about infections from the tiny cuts caused by the coral reef. He’d used the antibiotic ointment in the kit to help ward off any such infections, but knew they’d still have to watch the cuts carefully. His thoughts turned to their missing leader, but he pushed them away as he concentrated on helping the injured men before him.
“It’ll take us a little over an hour to get there,” Tanner said. “Maybe two,” he corrected as he also looked at his injured friends.
“Then we’d best get started,” Jackson said as he began gathering up their meagre possessions.
Chris woke to see bright lights moving in the distance. His blurry vision made it hard to distinguish how many there were, but he knew instinctively they belonged to his friends. Again he tried to call for help, but the days heat, the suns hot rays, and the lack of fresh water combined to make his throat dry and impossible to use.
He knew he had to move or he’d lose them. His arm generated wave after wave of pain as sand once more grated against the wound. His side throbbed and he winced as he struggled to stand on trembling legs. He cried out as he fell to his knees, but continued to try to gain his feet.
He finally made it to a semi upright position and glanced in the direction he’d seen the lights. His disappointment was evident on his sunburned face as he realized they’d disappeared while he was trying to stand up. His despair at the loss of the rescue that seemed so close made him want to fall back to his sandy bed. He fought the urge and moved down the beach in the direction he last saw the beacons of hope.
He stumbled through the wet sand and reached for the cool water that lapped against his fevered skin. Somehow he had to find the others before it was to late. He didn’t know how long it took or how many times he fell, but he finally made it to the spot where the others stayed earlier that day.
Under the brilliant moon he was able to find the spot where they built a fire. The ashes were cold now and he wondered just how long it took him to cover the stretch of beach from where he’d lain to this particular spot. Tired, hurting, and thirsty he dropped to the sand next to the cold ashes and slept fitfully.
“It’s right over this rise,” Wilmington told the others as the tired group made their way up the grassy hill.
“Thank God,” Jackson said as he helped Sanchez climb the semi steep hill.
“Amen, Brother,” Sanchez smiled weakly.
“There it is,” Buck grinned, still in awe of the magnificent work of nature.
“It’s beautiful,” Dunne’s voice was soft as he gazed on the valley bathed in white moonlight.
“Take it easy going down, it could be slippery,” Tanner suggested as they made there way down the other side of the hill.
By the time the six men made it to the water they were exhausted and one by one slumped to the ground. Using their hands they cupped water into their dry mouths, celebrating in the cool intoxication of the much-needed moisture.
“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so good,” Sanchez said as he turned on his back and gazed at the star swept sky overhead.
“Right now I’d have to agree with you, Mr. Sanchez,” Standish said as he bathed his face with the cool water.
“I guess we’d better get a fire started and get set up,” Wilmington suggested. “The first thing we need too do is collect some fire wood.”
“I’ll do that, Buck,” Tanner said as he moved away from the others. He listened to the five men setting up the base. His friends were there, yet he felt alone in their company. It wasn’t their fault he felt this way. He loved these guys, they were part of his new family but the one man he’d called brother was out there, somewhere, alone, injured, and maybe dying. He’d be leaving at first light to search for the missing man.
“Buck.”
“Yeah, Vin?”
“You ready?”
“I think so, Pard. Any idea where we’re going to start?”
“Chris went overboard before we did so I keep thinking Chris should’ve come ashore somewhere further north.”
“We didn’t see much of anything where Nathan, Josiah and I washed up.”
“When do you expect to be back?” Sanchez asked.
“If we don’t find Chris in two days we’ll be back. I think it would be a good idea if one or more of us stayed on the beach at all times,” the sharpshooter told them.
“Why, Vin?” Dunne asked.
“To keep a signal fire going. If we’re going to get out of here we’re going to need to signal our presence,” Tanner explained.
“That’s not a bad idea, Mr. Tanner. Perhaps myself and Mr. Dunne could take the first shift,” Standish suggested.
“Vin, the signal fire is a great idea. If Chris is close by he’ll be able to see it and hopefully...”
“That’s what I was thinking as well, Buck. We’ll be back in two days,” Tanner said as he turned his back on the others.
Chris didn’t know how long he stumbled through the thick foliage. His hands and knees bled from numerous cuts caused by falling on the uneven terrain. His arm, head, and ribs throbbed in painful rhythm with one another. He ignored them, knowing to give in would mean death. Separated from the others he felt the weight of loneliness fall heavily on his shoulders.
“Where are you, Vin,” he cried weakly as once more he fell toppled to the ground.
Gathering whatever reserves of strength he had left he made his way to his feet again. He topped a small rise and cried out as he slid down the other side. Broken branches slapped at his body, tearing at his clothes, ripping at his skin as he tumbled to the bottom of the once serene knoll.
He lay still assessing his body for any new injuries and setting his mind against the new pains they caused. He heard sounds to his left and crawled painfully towards an opening in the trees, hoping to find his missing friends. His eyes opened wide as he spotted a large camp. His years as a Navy SEAL and his job with The Firm kicked in and he knew immediately what he was seeing. A modern day pirating ring was the only possible explanation for what lay before him.
Men patrolled the area on foot, semi automatic rifles in their hands. Three large tents blended into the background making them impossible to be seen from the air. Nets covered the area camouflaged by overhanging branches. Under the nets he could make out crates normally used for transporting arms. He could see boxes of ammunition, and other armaments, almost everything looked to be illegal contraband.
What brought him up short and made him want to move was the sight of two women being dragged towards one of the tents. He could hear their screams and wanted to help them, but there were too many men around and he had no weapons. He felt tears of frustration fill his eyes at his uselessness. ‘Oh, God, I’m sorry,’ he said as the two woman disappeared into the tent. He closed his eyes as darkness once again took over.
The sun had once more risen above the horizon. Four men remained at the base camp by the pool. No one spoke of their worry for the missing leader or the two men who left to search for him that morning.
JD stared at the clear pool wishing there was some way he could catch the fish that swam in abundance there. He looked down at the banana in his hands and wondered how many of them he’d eat before rescue came.
“Nathan.”
“Yes Josiah.” The medic turned to the ex-preacher as he ate his breakfast of fresh fruits.
“By any chance are there any safety pins in that kit?” Sanchez asked.
“Yes. Why?”
“It seems to me that if we could maybe fashion some sort of rope we might be able to catch us some dinner.”
“The pins I can help you with. Rope is another matter. Can’t see anything we can use. This stuff is too thick” Jackson said, indicating the thick nylon rope they’d found on the beach.
“Well maybe we can fashion something from one of those blankets,” Sanchez suggested.
“Wait a minute. There’s some thin line in here,” Nathan said as he searched through the contents of the first aid kit.
“Why would that be in a first aid kit?” Dunne asked around a mouthful of banana.
“I think this kit was set up with you guys in mind. The line is probably in case someone needs stitches,” Jackson laughed as he passed the small spool of catgut like line and the safety pins to Sanchez.
Josiah pulled a small amount of the line from the spool and bent a safety pin in the shape of a hook. He secured the pin to the line and showed the others his homemade fishing line. “Now all we need is something for bait.”
“What kind of bait do we need?” Dunne asked.
“If I remember correctly from my days as a boy scout...”
“You were a boy scout, Ezra?” Dunne asked incredulously.
“I was, Mr. Dunne, Mother insisted on my knowing how to take care of myself since she was never there to do so. As I was about to say we could use some of those dehydrated vegetables from those packages we found.”
“Not bad, Brother Ezra, it seems we’re learning some new things about each other,” Sanchez laughed. “Now I’m off to see if I can catch us some lunch. Wish me luck,” he said as he hopped to the waters edge.
“I think I’ll go watch him,” Dunne told them and moved towards the older man.
“I’m going to take a look around.”
“Be careful, Ezra, we don’t know what kind of animals could be in the area,” Jackson warned.
“I will, Mr. Jackson. I won’t stray very far.”
‘Good, one missing man is enough to worry about,’ Jackson thought.
Wilmington and Tanner stopped by the remains of the campfire from the night before. Again Tanner’s eyes were drawn to the sea.
Wilmington placed a gentle hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “He’s not out there, Pard,” he soothed.
“I know he’s not, Buck. He’s somewhere on this island and we’ve got to find him before it’s too late.”
“I know. I keep worrying about his arm and what kind of shape it’s in.”
“Me too. I keep seeing his face when Nathan took his arm before he disappeared. The cast is probably useless by now.”
“Probably, but Vin you know Chris. He’ll find some way to survive.”
Tanner turned towards Wilmington, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth, “He does seem to have a knack for survival, doesn’t he?”
“Sure does, and I’m betting...”
“Buck get down!” Vin yelled as he launched himself at the older man.
“What the hell,” Wilmington cried as he felt Tanner’s body hit his at the same time his mind registered the sound of a shot.
“Come on, Buck, we have to get outta here,” Tanner gasped as he tried to gain his feet. He groaned as pain awakened in his body. “Get outta here, Buck!” Tanner said as he rolled off the older man.
Wilmington looked down the beach and watched six men hurrying towards them. Each man carried a semi automatic rifle in his hands. “I’m not leaving you here, Vin,” he snapped as he saw the widening stain of blood on the younger man’s left side.
“You gotta go warn the others, Buck!” Tanner hissed.
“We’ll warn them together. Now get on your feet,” Wilmington commanded.
Ignoring the fiery agony blazing through his side Vin Tanner scrambled to his feet and with the older man’s help hurried back the way they’d come.
“Buck you’re gonna have to go,” Tanner said as he heard the others gaining on them.
“I said I ain’t leaving you,” Wilmington snarled as he half carried the injured man.
“Buck.”
“Vin, shut up and keep moving.” Buck ordered as he struggled to keep the younger man on his feet.
“Hold it right there!”
The two Firm Agents pulled to a stop as a tall, muscular man with greying hair and a scar down his left cheek stepped in front of them. Buck held his friend tightly in an effort to keep him on his feet.
“What are you doing here?” the man asked as the other five men joined him.
“Who the hell are you?” Buck asked and received a fist to the face as his answer. Wilmington and Tanner slumped to the ground.
“I repeat what are you doing here?” the man asked as he placed the barrel of the rifle to the younger man’s head.
“Don’t,” Buck pleaded, as he wiped the blood from his split lip. “Our boat broke apart in the storm the other night.”
“Are there any others?” the man asked seemingly satisfied with the answer.
“J...just the two of us,” Tanner hissed through gritted teeth, his hand resting against his bleeding side.
“Well you don’t mind if we check for ourselves do you?” the man laughed, pressing the barrel firmly against the injured sharpshooter.
“Suit yourself,” Wilmington told him.
“We will but first we’ll get you two back to the camp. I think the boss might have a few questions for you both. Get on your feet!” the big man ordered.
“He’s hurt,” Buck told the man.
“He’ll be dead if you don’t get him moving,” the man sneered and the others laughed.
“I can make it, Buck,” Tanner said as the gun was pulled away from his head.
“Lean on me, Vin,” Wilmington told the younger man as he helped the younger man stand up.
Chris groaned as he once more opened his eyes. Confused and in pain he pushed his body upwards and held his hand to his head. The world began to tip precariously and he grabbed the nearest tree to hold himself upright. He needed to find water or there was no way he’d survive for long. The pirate base was forgotten as he stumbled back into the trees in search of fresh water.
The cast on his arm had dried somewhat but was softened considerably. Sand grated against his arm and he worried what it was doing to the wound. The throbbing pain slowly intensified as he continued to struggle through the dense underbrush. His ribs protested loudly as he moved. Blood seeped from numerous cuts on his body but he ignored it all as he searched for the one thing his body needed right now, fresh water.
Chris had no idea how long he stumbled through the trees but his energy was almost non-existent. He wanted to find a place too curl up and sleep, but fought the urge. His eyes closed in gratitude, his face drawn with pain, and his body wracked with tremors as he stumbled upon a tiny stream of running water.
He dropped to his knees and cupped some of the cooling liquid in his hand. He drank greedily and was sick. He lay his head back waiting for his stomach to stop rolling and drank more water. This time he took in small amounts and was relieved when it stayed down. His eyes refused to stay open and he relaxed against the soft grass surrounding the stream. ‘Won’t hurt to rest for awhile,’ he thought.
“Where’d they come from, Butch?” a short, stocky man asked.
“Said their boat broke up in the storm the other night, Mikey. Figured I’d let the boss handle ‘em. Where is he?”
“In his tent. He’s gonna be upset at the base being discovered.”
“Probably. Come on you two let’s see what the Boss wants to do with you,” Butch Rollins ordered.
Vin leaned heavily on Buck as they were led towards a large tent situated against the trees. The overhanging net kept most of the sun’s rays from penetrating the area. He let his instincts take over as he surveyed the area. He counted the armed men and assessed the weapons in their hands. There were seven guards situated around the compound and he wondered how many more he didn’t see.
Buck knew his friend was doing the same thing he was. They’d all learned how important it was to keep tabs on what was happening around them. The ladies man carefully took stock in the movement of the guards as they patrolled the area, hoping to spot any sign of weakness.
“Come on in, boys,” Rollins told them
Buck stumbled under a sagging Vin Tanner. He tried to keep them both standing as they entered the tent but Vin’s weight carried them both to the floor. A muffled groan met his ears as the younger man tried to curl into a ball.
“What’s going on Butch?” a deep gravely voice asked.
“Found these two down by the beach. They said their boat was wrecked in that storm.”
“Who are they?”
“They never said,” Rollins answered.
“Well it’s time they did,” the large man behind the desk stated. “Who are you?” he asked Buck.
“Tourists,” Wilmington answered sarcastically, receiving a kick to the ribs in return from Rollins.
“Shall we try again? Who are you?”
“My name’s Buck Wilmington. This is Vin Tanner and as I said we’re tourists. We got caught in that storm and made it to this island,” Wilmington explained as he held his hand tightly against his side.
“You would’ve been better off to stay on the ocean. I hate to say it but you’ve stumbled into something that’ll get you both killed,” the man behind the desk informed them.
“Who are you?” Tanner asked as he gazed into the man’s dark brown eyes.
“My name’s William McHenry. I’m shall we say an entrepreneur. I’ve built a rather large pirating and smuggling organization and can’t afford to be found out,” the large man answered.
“You want me to kill them?” Rollins asked.
“Not yet. I need to know if they really are tourists or if there’s something going on we need to know about. Just lock them up,” McHenry ordered.
“My friend’s hurt, can I have something to fix him up?” Wilmington asked.
“Give him a first aid kit, Butch.”
“What’s the point, Boss, we’re gonna kill them both anyway?”
“Yes we are but it could take some time to get the information I want. Keep the younger one alive and it’ll keep the older one in line,” McHenry explained.
“Yes, Sir,” Rollins snickered and ordered Wilmington to his feet.
Buck helped the younger man stand and once again struggled under the extra weight. “You alright, Vin?”
“I’m fine,” Tanner hissed through clenched teeth.
They moved out of the tent and were shown into another one. This one had large cages inside, most of them were empty, but the one that caught their attention held two terrified young women.
The ladies man and the sharpshooter were placed inside one of the cages. Buck felt the younger man trembling beneath his touch as he lowered him to the floor. Rollins passed him a first aid kit and a canteen before closing and locking the cage.
“Davie, make sure these two stay put. Keep a guard in here at all times,” Rollins ordered.
“Sure thing, Butch,” the strawberry blond male answered.
“Let me take a look, Vin.” Wilmington helped Tanner out of his shirt. He turned him enough to check the back and was relieved to see an exit wound. The damage didn’t seem to be as bad as he’d first thought. The wound was shallow and if he was correct had only hit muscle.
“Well?”
“Looks like it went right through and I don’t think it hit anything major,” Wilmington answered as he washed the blood from the wound.
The injured man tried to pull away from the stinging sensation he felt in his side. He held his body rigid until Buck finished with the wounds.
Wilmington placed a gauze pad to the front and back wounds and tape them securely. “That should hold it for now,” he said.
“We have to do something, Buck,” Tanner drawled softly, not wanting to draw the attention of the guard at the door.
“I know. Are you ladies alright?” Wilmington asked the other prisoners.
“We’re fine,” one of them answered as she held tightly to her cellmate.
“How long have you been here?” Tanner asked
“Don’t know for sure, but it’s been over a week. They caught us on our boat. They k...killed my husband and burned the boat with his b...body on it,” the older of the two cried.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. Did they say why they attacked you?” Wilmington asked.
“No, t...they just showed up and s...shot h...him. Oh, God, Gerry’s dead,” she cried as the other young lady held her close.
“What’s your name?” Buck asked.
“I’m Thelma Strickland. This is Josie Martin, she’s my baby sister. She shouldn’t even have been on this trip, but my husband wanted her along because he felt she needed some time away from her troubles. How did they get you two?” Thelma asked through weak sobs.
“My name’s Buck Wilmington and this is Vin Tanner. We were sailing toward Fiji when the storm hit and ended up here.”
“How bad is your friend?” Thelma asked.
“He should be fine. The bullet went straight through and doesn’t seem to have hit anything but muscle. Mostly we have to keep it clean,” Wilmington said.
“That’s enough talk back there!” the guard shouted as he aimed his gun in their direction.
The two woman huddled together on the floor of the cage. Their faces once again terrified by the captor’s harsh words.
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