Academy Island

Sighting

The men calling to each other gave me plenty of warning that I had reached the outskirts of their camp, a large area that showed many signs of being trampled and humanized. I wondered how I hadn't noticed it before, and settled on that I had been too busy running with my stolen goods to take much notice of anything else other than my escape. Creeping carefully and staying at the edge of their activity, I listened, counting each unique voice that I heard, trying to get an idea of how many they were. Four? Five? It was hard to tell. I shifted north of their camp, making sure to leave little evidence that I had passed through. The ground became more solid as I reached the halfway point around their camp, then damp. I paused in a weak moment and pressed my hands to the ground, trying to keep myself from getting too anxious and giving away my presence by rushing forward. I could still hear them, occasionally calling to each other. I had no desire to get shot at again.

Putting my thirsty urges aside, I gritted my teeth and moved slowly forward. I could hear a gentle lapping body of water in front of me, but could see nothing with so much plant growth to be pushed through. I inched forward, five feet, ten, then ruined my chance at stealth when I almost fell and plonked my foot right into the edge of a large lagoon, hidden by the plants growing at the very edge. I withdrew my wet foot and had to rush myself back when I noticed that there were two men on the other side, preoccupied with scooping up water into large jars. I held my breath and eased myself down into the mud and plants at the edge, keeping an eye on them through the reeds. Did they see or hear me? It didn't seem like it, both focused on their task. The tops of their spiky straw hats hid their faces, both of them bent to tug the water jugs out, dripping dark on the side they'd been dipped, so they could lift it to their shoulder. One was tall, and darkly tanned, easily lifting the jar up. The other struggled with it and lost his hat, making him curse and lose the little lift he'd gained so he could enter the water to retrieve it. Streaked blond locks over the top of brown hair got brushed back out of his eyes as he reached for his floating headgear, his friend amused at his antics. I smiled remembering his song yesterday, hoping he would sing again. He snatched his lost hat up, ankle deep and scowling, but suddenly became focused on the surface of the water. His face fell into serious intensity, then began scanning the entire lagoon.

"Something's off."

I stiffened and tried not to move. His friend looked over the water curiously and shrugged.

"Probably just a heron. They come here to drink sometimes."

He didn't seem convinced. He tugged at his hair, his bright eyes sharp on the widening circlets I'd made with my clumsy foot.

"Those little stick legs wouldn't make such big ripples, would they?"

I didn't dare move a toenail, internally screaming at myself for making such a mistake. The big tanned guy sighed, then put his jar down in the dirt to pick up a stone. He tossed it in his hand a few times and then lobbed it over the water, skipping it so hard that it skipped itself all the way to the other side of the lagoon, practically at my feet. I stared at where it sank, sure I could see the gray outline of stone through the trembling water.

"See? Little rock. Big ripples. It's just a bird. Let's get this water back to camp."

The rock skipper hefted his jar once again and turned his broad back to his friend, his steps wide and easy up the path to their camp. Punky continued to stare, standing stock still. He scratched at his ear for a moment, then cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Oy, Luuuke!"

Birds winged up into the sky, squawking, their wings beating at the air in an uneven rhythm. Punky watched them go, his eyes still suspicious. His friend turned and watched for a moment with him, both quiet as peace descended on the lagoon once more.