Dark Fangs: Forbidden Fugitives

Chapter Thirty-One

The forenoon was slipping away into the afternoon, and Drake had yet to wake from his fatigue-induced rest. Coco had flown back and forth from a larger neighboring key, where he'd found the freshwater source. He'd brought Drake five more pitcher plants full with water, but Drake hadn't even opened his eyes once to drink again. 

     Coco's feathers felt heavy with angst. He could still see the hollow curve of Drake's side rising and falling in breath, but it was shallow and light. He felt Drake's essence slipping away with each long hour that passed, but he couldn't do anymore then he'd already done. Coco had considered trying to get help on the Main Island--Sanctuary--but he could still see Indominus's massive, ghostly-white frame pacing the beach, roaring every so often, whipping her tail furiously, and clawing at the water's edge. Anyone Coco led to that side of Sanctuary's beach couldn't even get to this islet before they were eradicated by the I-Rex.

     All hope of outside help was a swift and sure 'nope'.

     For two alternative hours, Coco sat with Drake, strutting around when he felt he should try to wake Drake--roughly every half an hour--and ruffling his wings against Drake's face. He would trill quietly but sharply into Drake's ears, and even latch onto tendrils of Drake's shaggy sand-immersed black hair, tugging on them however hard he felt he needed to rouse Drake. Nothing seemed to work though. A few times even, Drake had swatted at Coco with shaking hands, and Coco had given up, the frustration too much.

     Eventually, the moon rose and the sun fell, and Drake was still deeply asleep. Coco had perched himself on the ledge above Drake, watching over him. He could see Indominus on the beach, yards out to sea, settling to sleep for once in two days, her lengthy, powerful tail curled around her body, though her massive skull was raised where she lay, staring eternally at the key on which Drake and Coco resided. Her bright maroon gaze was eerie, but somehow it made Coco feel...protected. Guarded. 

     Coco knew nothing was going to get to them through Sanctuary Island, but that also meant no help would come either. It was a trade he didn't know was a very good one, especially if danger came from the sea behind them, yet, Coco felt a wave of vigilant and overprotective energy emiting from her being. It was relieving, but also confining. 

     Stars began to twinkle into existence, and a soft, salty breeze picked up fairly quickly on the air, tugging at Coco's feathers and urging him to surge into the air. The Cockatiel chirped into the night, longing to answer the wind's alluring call. But he couldn't leave Drake. He didn't want to leave Drake. So, ignoring the breeze's playful echoes, Coco settled himself on the little ledge, back to Drake, and watched from the yawning mouth of the small mesa's cave, listening to the gale's tumbling whooshes, the sea's bucking waves, and the snapping of twigs in the sparse vegetation.

      Wait. There wasn't supposed to be any snapping twigs. 

     And those weren't only twigs crackling. They were footfalls.

     Coco flared his sharp wings, holding his breath. They were getting louder, closer. The force of the steps didn't sound so soft that they were maliciously creeping, stalking up to the cave, and they weren't so aggressive that it was like a stampede or a massive animal coming to tear the cave ceiling out.

     They were careful enough that they sounded used to this islet's topography, but the creature making them was watching his or her step, solely because of the veil of night that had fallen. Other than that, Coco didn't even know if this thing was aware of Drake and him. It could just be a small creature who'd swam from another island--or even Sanctuary--and had come back for whatever was on this key it cared about. 

     "...mhm...No...no..."

     Coco spun around, surprised by the muffled, hollow whispers that came from Drake. Was he awake finally? Coco hoped Drake had woken as he flitted down the short crag, skipping up to Drake's face. He peered closer, delighted to see Drake's cobalt-blue eyes were slightly beginning to blink open. 

     "Swifty?..." Drake muttered in a raspy tone. He blinked hard, and pain erupted in his skull, behind his eyes. When he saw Coco, he jolted, and agony seared through his bruised spine. "Can you stop doing that?!" he hissed, then choked on the dryness in his throat. It was like a lump of the driest dust was lodged in his esophagus, and his throat only constricted tighter the harder he tried to breathe or release the withering dehydration. Coco squawked sharply at Drake and jabbed his beak at the pitcher plants full of water. 

     Drake sighed, running a hand lightly over his face. "You can be so annoying sometimes." He took one of the plants and sipped at it, struggling against the desire to swallow the entire cup in one gulp. 

     "Hello?"

     Drake choked abruptly on the water, his body lurching forward. A sharp pain in his chest made him clench his jaws acutely, and he shot Coco a horrified expression, pressing himself against the wall of the two-foot ledge. The two locked eyes for a moment, wondering who'd made the sound. 

     "Helloooo?" the voice called again. 

     Drake went rigid. What the heck?! Who's here with us!? With a shaking, brittle hand, Drake gripped the top of the ledge his back was against, and pulled himself up. Almost instantaneously, he reeled, and fell half way onto the ledge, head swimming. 

     "Oh! I didn't know we had friends here!" The voice was a little kid's, and unexpectedly, it was so close, Drake almost expected claws to wrap around his stomach and drag him back. He swiveled his head to stare fearfully behind himself, and Coco screeched in unison. 

     The messy blonde-brown head of a child, no more than ten, peaked over the edge of the lower end of the cavity. His eyes were a mix of purple-blue, and his smile was as radiant as ever, even in the dark. 

     "Hello! Who are you?" he asked, cocking his head.

     Drake was speechless. Of all things, he'd never expected to see a child on this key, but more than that, the second head that popped up, peering into the short, broad tunnel, made Drake's heart stop.

     Those deep, deep optics that could stare into someone's soul, that feathery black and white fur, and the same fanged grin that had brought Drake joy all his life.

     Swifty was alive, and staring into Drake's eyes with a glowing love he'd wished he could have seen one more time before her death. 

     But a trickle of blood was running down the right half of her face, from the side of her cranium. Drake's heart shuddered with pity and fury. She didn't seem to mind, but it wasn't Swifty's mental or emotional state Drake was ever worried about; one of her beautiful silky Collie ears had been torn from her head, and in its place, a knotted tangle of blood, fur, and flesh replaced it.