The Fourth Man

The Fifth Man

The Fifth Man

Nerpato said a silent prayer. Siggy fidgeted with his sweaty palms. Jonathan was frozen to the spot with fear. Thomas was weeping inside. The men aimed there rifles, cocked them and readied to shoot. The boys could do nothing, they were defenceless. Gunfire sounded. Blasting through the silent air.

But there was no pain, and the shots were distant. In some sort of miracle the men infront of them crumpled to the ground. Behind them a figure had tore out of the woods, and used a machine gun to mow them down. Behind them, a gun strung across their neck, was their saviour; Jellah.

"You ok?" he asked, the boys meekly nodded in response; they had just been seconds away from certain death.

"Who's that?" he asked, pointing to the crumpled body on the floor.

"The Fourth Man," said Thomas, snapping back to reality.

"The Fourth Man?" Jellah cried out, bending down and tending to him "He's still got a pulse; weak but there. We need to get him somewhere safe."

"Down here," Thomas pointed to the ladder "It's where he lives."

They manoeuvred his body awkwardly down the ladders, before placing him on an empty table in a plain well lit room. Jellah split open his tunic to assess the extent of his injuries. It was bad; several bullet wounds tore across his torso, and they were bleeding freely.

"It doesn't look good," he admitted, the others looked grim.

"No, it doesn't," the Fourth Man said weakly, he had his eyes open slightly "I know I'm going to die," he wheezed "but there is several things I must tell you, I haven't much time, but things are worse than I thought."

"What things?" asked Siggy

"Dark Things," was all he could utter, before he recollected himself. "I am going to die and you can't save me, but you have to get off the island, there's a map through that room," he pointed limply "and with the Fifth Man you can-"

"Wait a second," said Jellah "The Fifth Man? We have to go and find him first?"

"No," said the Fourth Man "He's here; in this room," he cocked his head slightly "Thomas my boy, don't you ever wonder about your parents? Your past, where you came from? You were born here, and I got you sent off to the mainland for safety, I thought this island would be bad for you, but everyone needs you now. Thomas; my son, you are the Fifth Man, only you have the power to defeat the Dark Things."

They stood around in shock and awe. Was it true? Was Thomas the Fifth Man?

"There isn't much time," The Fourth Man continued "so hurry, and good look my boy, good luck all of you." With that he took his last breath, and closed his eyes.

"I can't believe my eyes," said Jellah "This keeps getting madder and madder."

"We have to go," said Nerpato "If things are worse than presumed then we need to get back to Farland quick."

"Not before my Father gets a decent burial," Thomas said defiantly, taking on the chest this unbelievable new news "It's night anyway, we'd never navigate a boat in this."

Reluctantly they agreed, and dug a grave with some shovels they found in the weapons cabinet. They dug it next to the tree in the centre of the floodlit clearing. Thomas found a stone and carved;

The Fourth Man

Into the stone. The others spent some mourning by his grave, but Thomas stayed out longer. Feeling sorrow for the Father he had known for barley a few hours, feeling pride for the man who stepped in front of them and saved their lives. He stayed out in quiet reflection, until the floodlights seemed to wane, and the soft orange glow of sunrise blossomed on the far sea.