The Island (22 page)

SURVIVOR

DAY FIVE

10:08 PM

Time was suspended. Alex stood there, a broken, bloodied mess. He was filthy, and his eyes glimmered with absolute fury. Chase was sure he was dead. There should have been no way he could have survived, and yet, there he was, standing in the entrance to the bunker, calm and emotionless despite just murdering someone. Chase wanted to speak, but couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“You look surprised to see me,” Alex said, still calm. “Nothing to say?”

Chase tried. Words and responses spun around his brain, a cyclone of possible responses, but the connection from brain to mouth seemed to be severed. Instead he sat on the floor, covered in hair, brains and skull. Moses stood, holding his ribs. He looked at Alex, then at Chase, and at the mess on the floor that used to be Ryder.

“This isn’t the game you think it is, we…”

Alex shot him. Calm and clinical. He simply raised the gun and shot him in the face. Like Ryder, it left a mess. Moses Aweyo was no more. What was left of his head was spattered all over the screen still playing the television feed, his digital alter ego now all that remained of the man.

Alex turned back to chase. “I wanted to take my time. I don’t like guns,” he said, sighing and looking at the weapon. “You forced this on me. Two people I’ve had to end quickly because you betrayed my trust.”

“You told me you were going to kill me. What else was I supposed to do?” Chase stammered.

“I am going to kill you. Nothing has changed. This could have all been avoided. I liked you, Riley. I was going to do you quick, maybe slit your throat in your sleep. Now, I’m going to take my time. Now I’m going to make it slow and painful.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to. I
have
to. I don’t know if you understand. I tried to explain it to you before. I have these urges. These desires to want to hurt people. Do you know how that feels? I have a daughter, she’s seven. I have urges to hurt her too. Do you know how it is to live with that, having to fight against the desire to put my hands around her delicate little neck and snap it?”

“You need help, you shouldn’t be here,” Chase said.

“I cheated the psych evaluation. I read the answers to the questions they ask online. You people didn’t do your research, did you?”

“Look, I have a daughter, she has cancer.”

“I don’t care,” Alex said. “You and your family mean nothing to me. I don’t do the whole emotion thing, Riley. I don’t do the happy family stuff. I’m broken inside. Most people are warm and empathetic. I’m a cold black void. This is the only place I’ve ever felt at home. Here with the savages, with the beasts.”

“What about after? You think those urges will go away if you kill me? They won’t. They’ll just get stronger. There’s a word for people like you. Serial killer. You can’t stop.”

Alex considered it. “Maybe. Maybe not. See, my plan is to go to town on you. I want to gut you, hollow you out, take all the insides out and break them down to their most basic elements. There will be nothing left of you, Riley. Nothing for your family to bury. Nothing for your wife to cry over. Just blood and mess. Now get up.”

“No.”

Alex smiled. “Don’t test me. You don’t have any comprehension of the things I’m capable of.”

“There are monsters out there. Fucking dinosaurs. You need to look at the bigger picture.”

“They are animals. Dumb ones at that. We’re so close, Chase. So close to the end. It’s only right that I do my work in front of the cameras of the world. I want to show them what I can do. I’m hoping that when it’s over, I will burn out that desire that’s in me and I can go back to a normal life.”

“You’re insane.”

“No, I’m not. This isn’t the movies, Chase. I’m not the maniacal super villain. I’m just a man who knows he has a problem and was gifted a way to fix it. Now get up, or I’m going to shoot you in the hand. Believe me, you don’t want that pain. Do you know how many nerve endings are in the human hand? Trust me, there are a lot. Now get up.”

Chase did as he was told. He knew he had a better chance of fighting back if he was on his feet. He looked at the bloodbath surrounding him, Ryder face down beside him, pool of blood expanding underneath him. Moses splayed against the wall, the top of his head missing. He didn’t even react anymore.

“Come on, let’s move,” Alex said. He ushered Chase outside. The rain was incredibly loud. It pounded the ground around them. There was just a single large valley between them and the wall. “We’ll do it down there. Near the exit,” Alex said, breath hot in his ear. He smelled of dirt and blood.

“We can’t go that way, just look.”

There were three tyrannosaurs in the valley. The two largest were twenty feet tall, their greenish bodies covered in a light down of reddish feathers. They looked different to how they had always been perceived in books and movies. The smaller, juvenile rex was still imposing at almost fifteen feet, and moved around with more grace that Chase expected to see, head bobbing slightly like chicken which also reminded him of the man who was about to butcher him on live television.

“They’ll kill us. Both of us. Look at them,” Chase said.

“They won’t attack unless we provoke them. Go.”

“I can’t do it.”

Pain. His shoulder exploded with it. He saw the explosion of blood as he was thrown forward. Alex had pressed the gun into the back of his shoulder and fired. The bullet had gone straight though, but had left a mess. Shattering the humerus bone near to the shoulder joint. He screamed, and his legs buckled, but Alex grabbed a handful of hair before he could fall, dragging him upright. Blood soaked through his shirt, staining it a deep maroon.

“The next one will go in the other shoulder unless you start walking. Go straight ahead. We’re close enough not to bother them. We should be fine if we keep our distance.”

Chase staggered on, the agony unbearable as he walked into the valley, the point of the gun jammed into his back. Seventy feet away, the largest of the tyrannosaurs caught the scent of blood from Chase’s injured shoulder on the wind. Sensing that its territory had been invaded, and having not eaten for ten hours, the predator lumbered closer to investigate.

TWO

The high-pitched whine was almost unbearable. Everything was dark; everything was still apart from that maddening noise. That smell. Copper coins.

The smell of blood.

Consciousness slowly came back. Displaced memories falling into place.

Ryder opened his eyes.

He knew he had been shot. He remembered the sound, and then nothing. He tried to will himself to get up, but his body was unresponsive. He turned his head, opening one eye. Blood and steel. Everything swimming in and out of focus.

He should be dead. He knew that. Somehow, he had been shot in the head and survived. He suspected he knew why. He moved his arm, his reactions slow, and every motion making him nauseous. He touched the back of his head, the mess of flesh and hair. He could feel the steel plate in his skull underneath the skin. Placed there after a car crash when he was a teenager, it had saved his life now for the second time. The bullet fired by Alex had hit the plate, slid over it and skimmed his skull. Sure enough, it had shredded the skin to pulp and he would lose some hair, but his brains were still inside his head. The force of the impact had knocked him out. It was no surprise they thought he was dead. He must look a mess. He tried to push himself up, but a wave of nausea killed that idea dead. He suspected the force of the impact of bullet on skull had still scrambled his brains pretty badly. He looked around, using only his eyes, not yet willing to move his head. He could see the overturned table, and a single muddy boot protruding from behind it. There was somebody else in here with him, but he judged that they were dead. The pool of drying blood around the foot seemed to confirm so. He tried again to get up, ignoring the nausea, pushing up to his knees. He stayed there on all fours for a while, willing the nausea to pass, watching the blood pour from his skull and patter on the floor. There was a lot of it. The nausea passed eventually, and his vision sharpened. Using the leg of the overturned table, he pulled himself up using his one good arm. The pain in the other seemed almost secondary now. He was getting blood everywhere. As he pulled himself up, he was dripping blood all over his hands, his arms, the floor and table. He saw what was left of Moses, sitting against the wall. He didn’t want to see that, so he stared at the TV screens, waiting for his vision to clear. He saw what he was looking for. He shuffled over to the cabinet. The bandages were strewn all over the console from where Chase had been looking for medication for Moses. They couldn’t help him now, but Ryder thought he could benefit. First things first.

The pain.

It was borderline intolerable. He saw the morphine bottle on its side, a pack of syringes next to it. That would help. He pulled out the largest bandage he could find, tearing the pack open with his teeth. There was a small mirror in the cabinet door. He looked into it and immediately wished he hadn’t. Everything above his eyes was a bloody mess. The skin was split and seeping blood, the top of his head and his hair was puffy and matted, shredded by the path of the bullet. He had to keep looking. Using his wounded hand, he touched the clean end of the bandage to his forehead. It changed colour, soaking up the blood greedily. Using his good hand, he wrapped it around his head until it was used up. The blood was still soaking trough. He found a second bandage and repeated the process, wrapping the entire upper part of his head. To hold it in place, he used the surgical tape. He pulled it as tightly as he could, wrapping it around and around his head. He took another look in the mirror. He looked like a soldier who had been wounded at war. Dirty and bloody.

The pain was still a problem. He retched and dry heaved. If he had eaten, he was sure he would have thrown up. He waited until the next wave of nausea passed, then used the syringe to give himself a shot of morphine, following the instructions on the bottle. He had just survived a gunshot wound to the head, and didn’t intend to give himself a lethal dose of morphine and die at his own hand.

He expected total relief, but didn’t feel any different following the injection. The pain was still there. It seemed his entire body was riddled with it. Also still present was that maddening high-pitched whine. He hoped that was just a side effect of the gunshot wound and would fade in time. His immediate future was centred on revenge. He staggered towards the exit, pausing to pick up one of the handguns which had been tipped off the table and onto the floor.

GAME OVER

DAY FIVE

10:28 PM

The three tyrannosaurs attacked as a pack. The larger of the two adults came straight for Alex and Chase. The second adult flanking around to the rear and cutting off any hope of escape. The smaller juvenile cut off the way ahead. There was no rush to their attack; they were slow and methodical, taking their time. Chase was terrified.

Alex was laughing. “You can’t buy this kind of thrill, Riley. God it feels good.”

“We’re going to die out here.”

“Everyone dies,” he replied, shouting to be heard over the wind and rain. “It’s how you go out that’s important.”

The tyrannosaurs were wary. They had experienced humans before, and some had possessed the ability to hurt them. The largest of the three took a step towards them. Alex laughed and fired at it, the bullet hitting it in its massive underbelly. It roared and lurched away, frightened off by the sound, its kin following suit.

“We need to get somewhere safe,” Chase shouted.

“We stand our ground. I’m the alpha male on this island, not some animal that was too stupid to avoid extinction.”

He fired again, two of the three bullets hitting the larger male, making it back off even further. “Let’s keep walking,” Alex said, shoving Chase forward. The dinosaurs kept a respectful distance, but didn’t fully back away. Keeping within close proximity to their potential meal.

“They’re gearing up to attack. We need to run for it,” Chase said.

“Run where? Look around. We’ve got nowhere to go!” Alex laughed again, and fired as the larger male considered attacking. This time it didn’t back away, it moved closer, lowering its head and snapping at them, still not ready to commit.

“See? They’re stupid,” Alex said, grinning. He pointed the weapon at the large T-rex and fired, his smile fading when the hammer fell on an empty clip.

There was no time to think. Chase knew this was his only chance. He was tired, but didn’t see another choice. He started to run, grimacing against the pain from his shoulder. He remembered reading once that tyrannosaurs were said to be slow, but also considered that those books were based on speculation, and so it was either a case of right or wrong.

“Don’t you run from me!” Alex screamed, setting off after Chase.

Trusting their millions of years old instinct, the tyrannosaurs saw their prey fleeing, and gave chase.

They were able to keep their distance from the adults. They were slower and more lumbering, the effort of chasing such a small meal outweighed by the energy it would waste. The smaller, lighter juvenile, however, was more than up for the chase. He closed the distance easily. Chase glanced over his shoulder, watching as the dinosaur approached Alex from behind. He prayed for it to attack. But the dinosaur moved past him. It could smell the blood on Chase and wanted it.

Chase changed direction, doing it suddenly and shearing off at a ninety degree. The much larger tyrannosaur couldn’t change direction as quickly. It scrabbled for purchase, its three-toed clawed feet kicking up the slick dirt. It fell down hard on its side, buying Chase enough time. He changed direction again, making for the opposite side of the plain and the wall. Lights had been set up across its upper perimeter, no doubt in preparation to greet the winner. He wasn’t thinking that far ahead yet. For as much as the T-rex couldn’t change direction as quickly as him, Alex could. He was now close, eyes wild, manic fixed grin on his face.

Chase focused on moving forward.

The juvenile tyrannosaur saw the distance from its prey, and gave up, changing direction and lumbering down the valley after its larger cousins, who had spotted a herd of stegosaurs and were moving closer to investigate.

The relief lasted only seconds. He was tackled to the ground by Alex. He landed on his wounded shoulder, white light exploding in front of his eyes. Chase threw an elbow back with as much force as he could muster, Alex grunting as it connected with his ribs. Chase scrambled up. He was close now to the wall. He could see the doors looming ahead, the yellow glow of the spotlights on the walls making a pool of artificial daylight.

“That’s where we’ll do it,” Alex shrieked from behind. “Right there in front of the world. I’ll show them how talented I am. I’ll show them what I can do.”

Chase wasn’t sure how much further he could go. He was tired and in pain. It was then, as he was trying to think about what to do, that his foot folded under him, his ankle exploding in agony as it twisted. He went down hard, screaming out and clutching his foot with his free hand. Alex stopped running and grinned.

“Close enough I suppose,” he said as he stood and caught his breath. He reloaded the gun, popping a new magazine into the bottom of the handgrip. “This will have to be close enough judging by how you went over on that foot. I was going to shoot you in the knees so you couldn’t run, but I don’t think that’s necessary now.”

With his free hand, he took out the knife. “I’d tell you this won’t hurt… But I’m pretty sure it will.”

Chase rolled over onto his back. He was done. There was no escape, no way he could flee. He was unarmed and immobilised. He wondered if his wife would ever understand what he had been through. He supposed not. She would see what the corporation wanted her to see. That troubled him. He wanted her to know how much he loved her, how sorry he was.

No.

He wouldn’t just roll over and die.

Alex was close, a little too close and over confident. Chase kicked out with his good leg as hard as he could, connecting flush with Alex’s kneecap.

He screamed and pitched forward, knife still in hand. Chase caught him and tried to wrestle the knife from him, engaged in a battle he knew he had to win if he wanted to survive.

TWO

Ryder crouched in the bushes forty feet away. The morphine had kicked in, and he felt a little less like he was on fire. He was still in agony, but it was bearable. He watched as Alex and Chase wrestled on the ground. He looked at the gun in his hand. He could win. He knew he could do it if he could just find the courage to do what needed to be done. He crept forward out of the long grasses, approaching the pair as they fought, completely oblivious. He held up the gun, hand trembling. He was crying and didn’t know why. He didn’t want to kill, but he also didn’t want to die. He had been through so much already, and the end was so close. He was ten feet away from them now. Alex was on top of Chase and trying to drive the hunting knife down into his chest.

He wondered if he should let the battle play out and off the loser or just go all in and kill them both now. He pointed the gun at the pair, trying to decide.

“Don’t.”

Lomar put the knife to his throat from behind. “Don’t pull that trigger.”

Ryder glanced to his left, seeing Lomar’s bloody face. “I bet you thought I was dead.”

“You should be,” Lomar replied.

“You should have done a better job when you shot me. I’m tougher than I look.”

“You think I did that to you? If I’d shot you, you’d be dead.”

Ryder tried to recall what had happened. The last couple of hours were still a blur, however. That particular section of his brain still scrambled. “This is the game. Why the fuck do you care? I can win this right now.”

“No. You don’t get to win. Not now. Not knowing what you know,” Lomar said.

“About the bodies? Yeah, I know. Everyone else will too.”

“You don’t get it do you? You could have won. You should have won. You had been handpicked for it. Then you fell and everything changed.”

“They both know. What’s the difference?”

“One of them doesn’t care about it. The other is only interested in doing right by his family. You…you don’t have anything I can use to bribe you with. You’re a loner, and that makes you dangerous.”

“You can’t stop me before I kill one of them”

“But you do and I’ll slit your throat. You die, one of them wins. Either way, it’s the perfect ending for me.”

Ryder considered it. There was no question about if Lomar was bluffing. He knew he wasn’t. He focused the gun on Chase and Alex, who were still wrestling for control of the knife.

“You know, I came here prepared to die. I’m happy with it.”

“If you put the gun down, I can make sure you live. We can smuggle you out, give you a new life. Tell people you died here. Money. Cars. Everything you want.”

Ryder flicked his eyes towards Lomar. “Who is your money on?”

“What?” Lomar said.

“Which one don’t you want me to kill? It’s obviously important enough to you to throw the idea of a new life at me. Who’s your winner, Lomar? Who is it you’ve handpicked to be your champion?”

“That’s not how it works,” Lomar said.

Ryder didn’t reply. He could hear the agitation in Lomar’s voice.

“I think you hate not being in control here. How much do you stand to lose if I off the wrong person?”

“Ten million. Wired to an offshore account. It’s yours. You’ll be set for life. Just put the gun down.”

“Can I say something first?”

“Quickly,” Lomar snapped.

“Fuck you.”

He fired, Lomar pulling the blade across his throat at the same time. Arterial blood sprayed in a wide arc, as Ryder fell to the ground, finally succumbing to the death he had avoided so far. His shot however had been true. It had hit Alex in the back of the skull. With no metal plate in there to protect him, it had been devastating, ejecting his brains out of a fist-sized hole in the front of his skull. He pitched forward, face down in the dirt.

Silence.

Chase lay there, trembling and covered in blood and brains. He was absolutely spent.

Lomar approached. He too looked like hell, but somehow found a smile. He stood above chase.

“Congratulations. It looks like you’re the winner.”

Chase couldn’t move. He stared up at Lomar, trying to come to terms with what he was saying.

“Come on. It’s just a short walk from here. You need to do it yourself.”

“Why me?” Chase mumbled. “Why me over the others?”

“Right place right time. Just accept it for what it is. Come on. Stand up.”

Chase got to feet. He couldn’t put any weight on his right leg, and his shoulder was still destroyed, but he was alive. He started to hobble towards the pool of lights ahead.

“What about my family?”

“Freed. I arranged it back at the station. They will never know who took them and why. I’m sure you will keep it that way. You don’t want them blaming you.”

Chase nodded. The exit was just fifty feet away. It all seemed too surreal. “Should you be coming with me?” Chase asked.

“I’ll be edited out. Don’t worry,” Lomar replied.

He was calm now and relaxed. The main threat was over.

“What happens now?” Chase asked.

“Now you go free. Your daughter will receive her treatment; you will probably be inundated with interview requests and the like. The Lomar Corporation can assist with those of course. Get you a P.A; make sure you say all the right things.”

“Yeah, message received,” Chase muttered. His mind was swimming. He didn’t consider winning as an option. Now it was about to become a reality, he wasn’t sure how to react. He stopped walking, staring at the wall.

“Problem?”

“No, not really. I was just thinking about the rules.”

“What rules?”

“The rules about how only one person can walk out of here alive.”

Lomar’s expression changed. He watched as Chase pulled Alex’s gun out of his belt and pointed it at the billionaire. “I still count two.”

Lomar threw up his hands and smiled. “I gave you this, made sure you won. You owe me everything.”

“No, I don’t. You put us through hell. You broke me. I’ll never be the same. Nothing can fix that.”

“I’m not a contestant. It will be murder!” Lomar said.

“No. We signed disclaimers. Until I’m outside of the gates, everything is legal. Besides, like you said, they’ll edit you out. You were never here.”

“You haven’t thought this through, you’re overtired. Exhausted. We can talk it through, we can–”

Chase shot him.

There was no scream. Lomar went down, the hole in his forehead spilling blood onto the ground.

He felt nothing. He squinted up at the wall. On the top of it, he could see tiny faces staring down, their cameras rolling. He dropped the gun onto Lomar’s lifeless chest and shambled towards the gate. There was no joy, no celebration. He was quite sure he would never be able to celebrate anything ever again. The Island had broken him, but he had beaten it.

The gate opened as he approached, the pale round-faced television executive staring at him open-mouthed as he shuffled past. Chase paid him no attention. He walked out into the light, unsure what the future held but knowing it could never be worse than the experience of the last few days. It was only when the south gate was closed and locked behind him did it hit home. He walked out into the thunderous chorus of cheers, and then he fell to his knees and wept.