The Cry of The Island

Chapter Nine

The Defining Tempest.

In the short chill of dawn the three boys gathered around the black smudge where the fire had been, while Atticus knelt and blew. Grey, feathery ashes scurried hither and thither at his breath, but no spark shone among them. Hendrix and Kiwi watched anxiously behind the luminous wall of his myopia. Atticus continued to blow till his ears were singing with the effort, but then the first breeze of dawn took the job off his hands and blinded him with the ashes. He squatted back, swore, and rubbed water out of his eyes.

"No use. And my wound hurts."

Kiwi looked down at him through a mask of dried blood. Hendrix peered in the general direction of Atticus.

"Course it's no use, Atticus. Now we got no fire."

Atticus bought his face within a couple feet of Hendrix's. He allowed the swollen flap of his cheek to close his eye again.

"They've got our fire."

Rage shrilled in his voice.

"They stole it!"

Atticus shouted at Kiwi and Hendrix. The loss of motivation was spiralling from him as the morning continued in a gloomy state.

He didn't know what to do, or what to think? His wound was smothering his side and his agony was evident, though he hung onto the small bit of resilience he had left in him. This island was no longer a paradise of palm trees, rope swings or anything of the sort. It was now a gate, locking Atticus inside of torture. Someone hunting him down, and all his mind could think of was the phrase "run, Atticus. Run." A lurking evil watched over this island. The dark grey and cloudy skies above with the pattering rain was laughing.

The long strip of beach seemed to hold a darker illusion, as rain pattered along the sand and splashed Atticus' body. He looked up, squinting his eyes in a hope that no water would fall to land on his vision, rolling his palm over his neck as he contemplated what he was about to do. Turning his head around, he spotted the mirage of the sandy incline he woke up on when his first day carried out. The wooden terrace was still next to it, and the palm tree hung drooped gasping for kindness. His stomach churned as he looked down at the raft beneath him, hoping improvisation would get him far enough to escape the island. After his first attempt with the boys, he didn't know what to think. Atticus didn't know what to think about anything anymore, it seemed. Using his foot, he pushed the raft into the water as the wobble against the surface became apparent. Atticus looked back at the island, squinting his face as he turned his head to look out at the large sea. Moving forward, he clambered into the raft, using his palms to motion ahead into the sea. Atticus sensed a feeling of progress, though he didn't want to question it too much. The raft hopped over the occasional ripples, as the water from the skies made its presence known. It was heavier than before, as Atticus' blonde curls now hung soaked over his face. He smiled, as he would realise the raft was moving, despite him still being at standing surface if he were to vacate the raft. The sudden sight of Tommy sprinting out of the jungle and heading towards the beach would be a mystery to Atticus, as he used his arms to give him more momentum. With his shins hitting the water, the sound echoed ad Atticus sharply turned his head around. He used his palms to continue to paddle, but Tommy was swimming towards him with a speed that seemed absurd. Catching up to Atticus, he would grab the raft from underneath and capsize it. Atticus went under the surface, as his fear was kicking in. A sharp burn from the water hitting Atticus' wound caused him to scream under the surface. Quickly rising to the surface with his wound above the water's surface , Tommy landed a punch that hit the mouth of Atticus. Leaning back as the sharp sting hit him, firing back with a swinging hook. It was like two boxers, fighting for glory. Atticus' knuckle grazed over the side of Tommy's skull, as he retaliated by grabbing Atticus' frame. Dunking his head underwater, Atticus struggled to breath as his fear was smothering him. Atticus tried to kick and punch his way out, but under the surface, his limbs were moving too slowly. Starting to feel his capacity diminish, he fought from under and with the strength he had, he rose back up to the surface and headbutted Tommy. In a panic, Atticus swam back to the beach, Tommy chasing swiftly behind. Atticus tumbled along the sand, as Tommy was without spear. This all seemed fair game now. They traded punches, kicks and swings consistently, as Atticus tackled Tommy to the ground. Mounting on top of him, Atticus went to land a punch, but Tommy moved his head and caused Atticus' fist to hit the sand. Tommy kicked Atticus off of him, scrambling up to his feet as he began to run towards the jungle Atticus chased him in a pursuit, the rain making their running sluggish along some of the terrains.