Tomas sat eating off a deer leg that had been skillfully toasted over the little fire, it was hazy outside and Tomas was preparing for the new day that awaited him, the raft was prepped and he was ready to begin construction of the vessel that would send him to better fortune. Storms had entered and left leaving his camp in dis-array. Tomas chocked from the strange desese that pained him. Blood fell from his weak mouth and dropped down the bench landing on the coals; sizzling in the fire pit. Tomas whipped his face and dabbed his beard as he stood up, he was stressed monsoon season was just weeks or even days away and his rag was yet to be built, Tanda was alive and the pain of his illness made his stumble, never the less he picked up his stone hammer and began to construct the raft. The last of the rusty nails we used as a steady way to keep the base together, he used rope to secure the logs in a tight and sturdy way, he piled sticks on top of the logs and pounded the nail in place he lined his hut with shingles of bamboo, an he sealed the top with tar from the last grains of powder he filled the barrels with coconuts, banana and other provisions he filled a 3 leather sacs full of water. He added fishing poles and and yucca string. He worked fast and hard, he pounded til his hands hurt, til his shoulder bled his hands full of blisters he worked day and night never sleep only eating an drinking long into his last available week.
Tomas stood over the raft and cries tears of joy the week was over and he had finish his task despite the sickness that raged in him. He rubbed Kanan's stomach with joy, his hands were red his back was blistered his shoulders burned, and his face was dirty. Tomas was ready to leave the forsaken island or die trying, he cared not which. Tomas pushed for a good 20 minutes before the raft hit the water edge.
That night they celebrated for the first time since they could remember, Tomas sang and drank coconut milk as Kanan howled at the moon, Tomas felt rejuvenated and could tell his sickness was passing. the fire burned bright and high, Tomas was in a merry state he laughed and smiled and embraced Kanan. Tomas had hope the final chance, the final option was now done, Tomas thought of home of marksfeild and of Winston and all the people he knew and loved. His smile turned to wonder as he though if the peoples first response of him if he every returned. Would they have forgotten him, would they panic, they might even welcome him, Tomas began to tear, he longed for human interaction, he walked over to the marked stone, with a rock he added one more tally he had been gone a year 8 months of which was on this island. He cried, Kanan walked over and pressed his head against Tomas's knee Tomas smiled. He walked over to the barrel and pulled out one last rib of deer and split it between him and his companion. The two eat in silence, nothing but crickets and Tomas's acational squeak or cough could be heard as they ate.
Tomas sat the slumbering Kanan under the shade of the tree, it was almost midnight as Tomas began to crawl into bed: relaxed, there was only one more thing left to do before he could be at peace: the death of the devilcat: Tanda-moto.
YOU ARE READING
Forsaken
Historische RomaneSet in the mid 1700's after the French and Indian war that follows the Survival story of Tomas porter a man bent on revenge after he was betrayed and left for dead on an island of the coast of Indonesian. He finds himself in the domain of the myster...
