Dark Island Book 1 (Complete)

Chapter 22

A blinding light shot through the sky. I jumped and shielded my eyes, but the light disappeared only moments later.
“What the fuck is going on?” I started. I looked all around in bewilderment, but Harold is nowhere to be seen. My heart started to thump, beating like a drum. I anything should happen to Harold, I would never forgive myself. I could not make sense of what I have just seen either; the light, bloodstained sand...
I breathe in and out, looking around the camp. I catch Ronnie looking at me, his eyes, red and puffy.
“Ronnie.” I said, rubbing his shoulders. “Everything will be okay. We will find him and get the hell of this island.”
Ronnie was shaking. Fear had struck him.
“I... don’t...” He stuttered. He didn’t finish the thought.
“Ronnie, everything will be okay.”
“I’m not su...sure how much longer I can handle all of this. This island will be the death of us.” Said Ronnie.
“We will, we just need to stay calm. That blood...it doesn’t mean that it’s Harold’s. Maybe it belonged to something he had hunted...the boar perhaps. He’s probably of somewhere cleaning himself from the blood.” I said, trying to calm him down. Though the fear of Harold being in danger kept running through my mind. But not now, I cannot fall apart now. I have to be strong for us both, and for Harold’s sake.
“We will rest here for a few hours, at least until morning. We won’t be able to find anything when it’s this dark.”
Ronnie nodded. The words seemingly calmed him down.
Harold, I hope you are okay out there. Because if something should happen to you, I will never forgive myself...

It’s raining, and I’m standing alone in the jungle. But even through the heavy downpour, I still feel heat, like the intensity of an enormous bonfire. It smelled of thick smoke, but my surroundings are too dark to see where it’s coming from. I hear screams. But in a dream, things don’t exactly make sounds- or at least not the correct sounds. I can hear people; screaming in terror. The rain stopped. Instantly, I am somewhere else. It was more like being nowhere than in any particular location. A dark nothingness. Harold is there, slightly out of reach. Desperately, I stretched out to him. But he floated backwards. The faster I’m trying to run, the more my legs ache, unable to move. I can’t shout or make him stop. Drifting, Harold fell out of sight and into the nothingness.
Steps appeared. I started to walk up them, hoping for a way out of the darkness. I am finally near the top, though, I look back and realize that the steps is not designed for walking upwards. At the bottom, where I started the ascent, was a fire pit, with people dressed in odd clothing, praying around it. The smell of smoke mixed with an unfamiliar scent, struck me with force. Choking, I hurried toward the top. But a man appeared in front of me, blocking my path. The man’s face was kind, and somewhat familiar. Dressed in a military uniform, there was something about his eyes that inspired feelings of safety. He put one of his arms around my back, directing me up and away from the pit. When we reached the top of the stairs, he drew a large knife out of his pocket. The knife was beautiful, ancient and engraved in a language that I cannot understand. I was enthralled by the blade’s beauty. Staring at it for what felt like an eternity, my eyes finally  drawn away by the appearance of a dark and skinny figure; almost like an apparition. I can’t make out any features on him, only the dark, half blurry outer lines of his body. The apparition walked up to the other man, who passed him the knife. The man fixed his gaze on the apparition, speaking in a different language. The apparition then began to approach me, weapon in hand. He shoved the blade into my stomach, and pushed me. I twisted and fell down the steps, my bones breaking on the hard edges before I landed in the pit. Fire enveloped me, pain consumed me, and then I awoke.
Upon awakening, I realized I’d slept in a position that had cut off the blood flow to my arm. It had gone completely numb. In my only-just-woken-up state of mind, I feared my dead arm would have to be amputated. But after a short while, sensation returned, pins and needles lingering in my hand.
My ragged clothes is damp with sweat. ‘it’s only a dream.’ I said to myself as I gazed upon the night sky. I turned my head to check on Ronnie; still sleeping silently. My thoughts then returned to the nightmare. Usually, I would brush off a bad dream and go back to sleep, but this dream felt so vivid...so real. But the image of the strange figure haunted me the most. It was something that I’ve never seen before, couldn’t make out. And Harold, I couldn’t get the thought of him out there alone, out of my head.