Dhakirah stood in the field, observing the boys as they diligently carried out their tasks according to his instructions. Everything seemed to be going smoothly; there were no signs of rebellion, and even Evan and Ethan, still reeling from the traumatic incident and Noah's disappearance, chose to keep a low profile.
Gazing at the tree, Dhakirah couldn't shake the feeling that Noah might suddenly appear, battered and in desperate need of help. It wasn't uncommon for Noah to find himself in trouble, but it seemed that fate had a particular disdain for him, casting a shadow over everyone in his orbit.
"Ethan! Set the pole straight! If we lose that signal, we all die!" Dhakirah's voice cut through the air, sounding harsher than intended.
He noticed the signal growing weaker with each passing day, a troubling sign that demanded immediate attention. Under the relentless heat of the sun, the boys toiled tirelessly. Dhakirah knew that time was running out, but Avgustin had remained cryptic, only instructing him to keep watch.
"Watch them. I'll take long." Avgustin had said, leaving Dhakirah burdened with the weight of responsibility. It was a familiar sensation, but no less daunting than before, pressing down on him like a heavy stone.
"HELP!" Vincent's urgent cry shattered the tranquility of the yard coming from the woods. This caused Dhakirah to bolt into action. With his knife in hand, he dashed into the woods, leaving Rafael to watch over the boys.
His heart raced, fueled by adrenaline as he prepared to confront whatever danger lay ahead. But as he approached the river bank, his frantic pace slowed to a horrified halt. There, amidst the dirt and dried blood, lay Noah—unconscious and barely clinging to life. Without hesitation, Dhakirah knelt beside him, his hands searching for a pulse. Relief flooded him as he detected a faint, but discernible heartbeat. Without a word, he lifted Noah's fragile form, cradling him gently in his arms, carrying him to safety.
Noah lay on the couch, a fragile figure amidst the gathered boys, his stillness unsettling to those who observed him. Dhakirah's gaze traversed Noah's form, taking in the stark transformation wrought by suffering. Beneath his pallid skin, the contours of Noah's bones protruded, evidence of the number of times he had been food-deprived. Purple veins snaked their way across his hands and neck, a stark contrast against the pallor of his complexion. Dark circles marred the skin around his eyes, a testament to sleepless nights and unrelenting torment. His hair, once a symbol of vitality, now hung limp and unkempt, a silent testament to the trials he had endured.
As Dhakirah observed Noah's fragile state, a heaviness settled in his heart, the weight of uncertainty bearing down upon him, will he survive? Noah's life hung precariously in the balance, a tenuous thread connecting him to the world of the living. Dhakirah's greatest wish was for Noah's safe return to his mother. He might never see that come through, Noah was barely alive.
Vincent's voice pierced the silence, echoing the unspoken question that lingered in the air. "What happened to him?" he asked his words a reflection of the collective concern that gripped the hearts of those gathered around Noah's prone form.
Dhakirah's silence sent fear through the boy's chest, then his gaze landed on Evan who looked like he would back away from the group. "Prepare the soup, Browne. Vincent will feed it to him." Dhakirah said before raising.
"The others get to work. Now." Dhakirah ordered and reluctantly the boys obeyed with little protest.
Rafael approached Dhakirah, "Should we start taking his height?" He asked in a low tone holding sadness.
"Tomorrow." Dhakirah muttered, already feeling the pain of losing Noah.
That night the boys kept peering at Noah's battered and lifeless body as they walked by; everybody was humbled by the sight. As the lights went out Dhakirah sat by Noah hoping for a miracle, he had only grown weaker and his skin even paler. Dhakirah feared the worst...
The morning sun had barely begun to paint the sky with its golden hues when the farm cock's shrill cry pierced the tranquil air, rousing the boys from their slumber. Dhakirah, seated at the foot of the couch, stirred awake with a sense of dread lingering in his heart then he turned around to check on Noah only to find a void. His eyes darted around the room, searching desperately for Noah's familiar form, the room was empty, devoid of the boy's presence.
A surge of panic gripped Dhakirah as he sprang to his feet, his movements swift and urgent, he raced up the stairs to the boys' room bursting in and looking around. The boys, startled by his sudden agitation, roused from their sleep with bleary-eyed confusion, their concern mirrored in the furrow of their brows.
"Where is Noah?" Dhakirah's voice trembled with urgency as he addressed the disoriented boys. Their collective gaze shifted around the room, their minds racing with worry and apprehension.
Without a moment's hesitation, Dhakirah bolted from the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he raced from one room to the next in frantic search of Noah. The boys, sensing the gravity of the situation, joined the frantic search, their footsteps echoing in tandem with Dhakirah's, their voices calling out Noah's name in desperate hope of a response. Hours of searching turned out void.
"Is there anyone other than us on the island?" Vincent asked. Browne shook his head.
"No, not that I know." He said.
"Maybe he disintegrated into dust," Ethan added, causing everyone to roll their eyes except Evan.
"Do we have a dog around?" Evan asked, earning a uniform expression that screamed, 'Seriously, are you dumb?'
"Have you ever seen one around?" Rafael returned the question sarcastically causing Vincent to sneer at Evan's embarrassment.
A branch snapped behind them, the sound slicing through the tense silence like a knife. Every head snapped in unison, their eyes widening with a mixture of fear and hope. There, leaning heavily against the sturdy trunk of a nearby tree, stood a frail figure, barely recognizable as Noah. Mud-covered and disheveled, he clutched an old leather bag in his trembling grip, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he fought to remain upright.
Noah's legs buckled beneath him, his strength failing him as he collapsed to the ground, his body racked with tremors of exhaustion and pain. Dhakirah, heart pounding with a mixture of relief and concern, wasted no time in rushing to his friend's side, his footsteps quick and determined.
"Noah, what were you thinking?" Dhakirah's words were laced with frustration and worry, his voice stern as he scolded his friend. Noah's response was a pained groan, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as he struggled to regain his composure.
Rafael, sensing Noah's distress, reached out tentatively for the bag, only to be met with fierce resistance from Noah, who clung to it with surprising strength.
Dhakirah's gaze hardened as he shot Rafael a warning look, his voice firm. "Let him be," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. Rafael, sensing the gravity of the situation, raised his hands in surrender, stepping back with a nod.
With gentle hands, Dhakirah helped Noah to his feet, his heart heavy with concern for his friend's well-being. Despite his best efforts, Noah's strength faltered, his body succumbing to the overwhelming exhaustion, and he passed out. Dhakirah felt for Noah's pulse, finding it steady and strong, a small glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. He sighed in relief.
Scooping Noah into his arms, Dhakirah led the way back to the safety of the house, the boys trailing behind them like silent sentinels, their hearts heavy with concern for their mate.
A/N
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Days Are Numbered
Teen FictionNOAH MERRIDEW is your typical popular kid who can't keep his emotions composed. Being the only child of a rich couple he is spoilt and rotten to the core with all his caprices being answered. However, thing takes a different turn when his father die...
