Tracker? - James Conrad

Skullcrawlers

"Wait! You can't just leave us here." Another male says from the group of survivors, he was a dark skinned man with glasses. He looked angry yet terrified.

"You were going to shoot us." I snapped at him. They weren't to be trusted.

"We can get you away from here." The few times I had talked to Hank I had told him how much I wished I was back home. That I was in my own bed.

"It's impossible." My voice wavered.

"Let us help you." A voice caused both of us to turn our heads to the right.

"How?" I didn't believe it to be possible. We would've found a way off by now.

"We have a way off. We just have to get there."

"Look, you came to an uncharted island you know nothing about. Let me list all the ways you're going to die-" I start sternly.

"I've already been there." The man in the front of the group tells me. His cold stare practically burning a hole right through me. He seemed the most experienced of them all. And I had a feeling why.

"Tracker?" I asked with slight amusement, this island has never been documented, why would they bring a tracker?

I get a simple nod as an answer.

"Nobody from the rest of the world knows anything about this place." I tell them.

"That's why we need your help. Please." She begs. I sigh and look at her.

"If I help you. You have to promise to show nobody those photos. Or tell anyone what you saw here." I look her in the eyes as I set out my terms. She nods vigorously.

"Promise."

I roll my eyes and walk back towards their group, they were looking around trying to find a way to go. I whistle and their attention turns to me.

"Follow me. Stay close or you'll get hurt. You don't know this island like us." I gesture to the Iwi and Hank.

"Why should we listen to you? Why should we trust you?" The man with glasses asks as he stares at me with a confused look on his face.

"If you wanna die. Die. Makes no difference to me. You say you can get off the island... Prove it." I challenge. Conrad steps to my side and faces his group.

"Now if you'd be so kind." I start walking away. This time they all follow. I hear hem talking behind me.

"Go. Talk to her."

"Why?"

"Maybe she'll want to kill us less if she can see we can be friendly." I hear one push the other.

"I don't like killing people. I'm just protecting my own people." I explain to the man who was pushed beside me. He was the one in the front with the blue shirt, I was looking forward the whole time.

"Who are they?" He asks, his British accent forever present.

"The Iwi. They worship that thing that attacked you. He's God to them. King of the island." I tell him what I know of it.

"And who are you?" He asks genuinely intrigued.

"Queen Victoria." I smirk, liking the sound of my 'title'.