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Authors: John Everson

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BOOK: Violet Lagoon
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“Truly a well-mannered boy,” Jess observed.

“A compliment to the cook?” he offered.

“Nice try.”

Billy stood up and stretched. “Anyone want to take a hike, see what’s around?”

Jess and Casey jumped up. “Sure,” they said in unison.

Mark moaned and rubbed his bare belly. “But I’m all full and comfy.”

“You’re coming,” Billy demanded. “I’m not leaving you here to drink all the beer. Grab the machete from the boat? We might need to cut a path if it’s really thick.”

They filed beneath the palms in the same direction that Casey had led Billy earlier, and in moments the rich blue sky was replaced by a canopy of deep green. The  steamy summer heat dropped by 10 degrees almost instantly. They walked through the bushes and trees, Billy periodically slashing away a few branches, though none really blocked their path. “Breadcrumbs,” he explained. “We can follow the branches back if we get turned around.”

There seemed to be an almost natural path into the center of the island. After walking for just a few minutes, they saw why.

“Check this out,” Billy stopped and pointed to their left. Sheltered behind a stand of thin trees and brush, they could just make out the corner of a silver-topped roof.

“What is it?” Jess asked.

“Looks like a Quonset hut,” Billy said, stepping closer.

“I thought you said nobody ever came to this island,” Casey accused.

Mark stepped past Billy and walked up to the door of the small building.

“Um, I don’t think we should be seen right now,” Jess suggested, wrapping her arms around her chest to hide her cleavage.

“You were the one who made us wear them,” Mark reminded. “But I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I don’t think anybody’s home.”

Billy joined him at the door, a simple metal rectangle with a nameplate in the center, just above the knob. 
Innovative Industries
, it read.

“I didn’t leave the beach much when I came here before,” Billy said. “But I don’t think this was here two years ago.”

Mark turned the knob and the door opened, easily. “Hello?” he called, sticking his neck inside. Then his feet followed.

“All clear,” he declared, and the girls gingerly stepped to follow Billy inside.

The door opened on a long thin room, about 10 feet wide and 20 across. Two doors interrupted the back wall, and Mark and Billy quickly opened and shut those, pronouncing “empty.”

Casey walked along a counter that was attached to the inner wall. It appeared to be made of stainless steel and extended out about three feet from the wall. Above it on the wall were three shelves, littered with vials, steel containers, a shortwave radio, something that looked like an oven, and several other unrecognizable pieces of electronic equipment. The counter itself was empty, except for two steel canisters at the end of the room.

“What is this place?” Casey mused.

Billy shook his head. “Looks like an outpost,” he said. “Weather station or something. No sign that anyone’s been here for awhile though.”

He opened a small white refrigerator at the other end of the room, and gagged when the stench hit him. Black fuzz coated the inside of the appliance, along with unrecognizable lumps of something that no doubt had once been food. He quickly slammed the door shut.

“Generator’s apparently been out of fuel for quite awhile,” he pronounced, still coughing.

They stepped back out of the hut, and now the cool air of the foliage brought a chill to their exposed skin. Jess had an overwhelming desire to pull on a T-shirt. Playing 
Blue Lagoon
 was all well and good when you knew nobody else was around, but now she was a bit discomfited that obviously somebody had been to this island.

Mark read her thoughts and put an arm on her shoulders. “Whoever it was, they haven’t been here in a long time. Months maybe. I don’t think we have to worry about them coming back this particular weekend just to spoil our party!”

“C’mon,” Billy said. “Let’s see what’s on the opposite shore. This island isn’t that big; it can’t be much farther.”

They continued walking, but everyone seemed a bit quieter than an hour before. The leaves made the only sound as they shifted in the slight wind.

“Have you noticed there are not even any birds here?” Mark said at one point. “It’s so quiet — no bugs buzzing, no birds calling…”

“It 
is
 still,” Billy agreed. “Probably just cuz we’re so far out from the mainland.  Think of it this way, that’s just more proof that it’s an uninhabited island.”

“There are spiders,” Jess declared. “Freakin’ ugly spiders.”

Just as she said that, the group stepped through a stand of bushes and were suddenly out of the foliage and back on open beach.

“No spiders here,” Billy said, and pointed to the white sand that extended from the edge of their feet into the crystal clear water just a few yards away. “Anyone want to see if there are fish?”

With that he took off running towards the water. Casey joined him. “Last one in,” she called.  Mark and Jess laughed and followed. When they were all chest deep in the water, Casey turned to Jess and pointed to her bikini top, noting, “Um, these costumes don’t really cling very well.” Her naked breast broke the surface of the water briefly, as she demonstrated that the tan triangle had slipped easily to the side.

“Exhibitionist,” Jess accused. “Mine stayed on just fine.”

“Mine could use a little adjusting,” Mark suggested, rubbing up against her thigh to make it obvious that his privates had also slipped out of his loincloth after their short swim.

She reached down and encircled the stray organ, and with a smile, slipped him back inside the fabric. “Down boy,” she laughed.

Mark shook his head and bent to kiss her. “Nuh-uh,” he answered.

From behind them, Casey called out, “We’re going to swim for awhile.”

Mark grinned, and pulled Jess back out of the water towards the beach.

“Right now?” she whispered, glancing at the two playfully wrestling in the water behind them.

“They’ll stay out there awhile,” he promised. “Probably doing the same thing.”

“Ew, with the fish?” she grimaced.

He pulled her into the shade of a bush and kissed her, hard. His hands roamed the wet skin of her back and thighs, trailing up between the cleft of her ass and then cupping her behind to pull her even tighter to him. When he broke the kiss, Jess’s eyes were on fire.

“OK,” she breathed heavily. “Right now.”

She pulled the tie on her bikini and he did the same, just before kneeling to suck one dark nipple gently between his lips. He bit down playfully, and she moaned. “Pick a position,” she whispered. “Cuz one of us is getting sand in their ass.”

“Missionary,” he said, and helped her lay down in the cool sand.

“You’re 
such
 a gentleman,” she said, but didn’t protest. She laid down on the sand and opened her thighs provocatively.

“I won’t be a gentleman in a second.”

Jess cried out as he entered her, and stifled herself with a finger.

“You can let go,” he encouraged, “No one will hear.” And soon enough, she did. Her heels dug in and pressed against the sand, and she raised her knees to let him in deeper. It was strangely erotic, to be pressing her feet through cool sand as he dripped warm salty water across her chest. She pressed her feet deeper into the sand until her toes met something that didn’t shift. Cold. A rock. She curled her toes around it as Mark cried out his own finish, and smiled as he wilted against her, resting his head on her chest.

Then as the fog of pleasure faded and the world suddenly took shape again around them, the sand began to itch between her ass cheeks and she gently pushed him up. He rolled to the side and she sat up, looking for her bikini top in the much-disturbed sand.

It lay just beyond her knee, and as she bent forward, she saw the rock that her foot had been massaging. Only, it wasn’t a rock.

“Oh god,” she whispered. “Mark?”

Mark had rolled on his back, but he opened his eyes at the tone of her voice. “What’s the matter?”

“Tell me that isn’t what it looks like,” she said, pulling her foot as far away from the white thing in the sand as she could.

Mark reached out and pulled the thing from the sand and stared into a pair of open eyesockets. Yellowed, bare teeth grinned back at him. Human teeth.

“OK,” he agreed, his voice cracking a bit. “This 
isn’t
 a skull.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she swore, leaping to her feet and pulling her bottoms on. “I’ve been playing fuckin’ footsy with a dead guy for the last five minutes.”

Mark dropped the skull. It rolled to the side, and he could see the back of its braincase was broken. It almost looked chewed…

“Better or worse than a spider?” he offered, but she didn’t hear. She was already running for the beach to call to the others.

 

IV. In The Air

 

 illy and Casey moved into shallow water, both of them clumsily trying to push their coverings back into some semblance of 
covering
 as they stumbled to shore.

“What’s the matter?” Billy said when he reached Jess, who waited impatiently at the water’s edge.

“There’s a dead guy back there!” Jess announced.

Moments later they had all gathered around the skull. Billy reached down and gently pushed sand away from the area that the skull had come from, and soon had uncovered the bleached vertebrae of the neck, followed by the shoulders, collarbone and ribs. Then abruptly, he stopped.

“This guy hasn’t been dead that long,” he said, making a face.

“He’s nothing but bones,” Jess argued.

“Maybe up-top, but not down here.” Billy grimaced and wiped something dark, cool and sticky off the back of his hand on the sand.

And then they all made faces as the smell reached them, a stench of rotting meat mixed with the sour of bad fish.

“Jesus,” Mark said, stepping back.

As Billy stood up they could all see that just below the first couple of exposed ribs, a blackened gory mess yawned under the sand.

“But…what took all of the skin off his head?” Casey asked.

“Not just skin,” Billy answered. His voice sounded grim. “Something took hair, muscle, eyes, fat… without leaving a trace.”

“Fucking gross,” Mark said. Two hands grabbed his arm and squeezed. Jess.

“My 
foot
 was on him,” she said. Her voice sounded close to breaking.

Billy slapped a bug on his neck absently. “Well, at least you only touched the clean part.”

Casey echoed Billy, hitting her thigh with her palm. The air around them seemed to hum.

“So much for no bugs,” Mark said. He swatted at a tiny fly or gnat that circled his face.

“Um,” Casey said. “I think we should go.”

Billy turned to look at her, and then his gaze followed her arm, which pointed to a cloud of insects at the edge of the trees. They glittered like a violet constellation in the bright sun. Black and shimmering purple, the horde of tiny insects expanded from the forest in a cloud that grew broader by the second. The co-eds all began to slap at tiny bites as the buzz grew around them, and the air suddenly was alive with tiny beating wings.

“I think we should go now!” Casey screamed, and ran straight through the cloud towards the path of broken branches they had forged. The others followed close on her heels.

They ran through the jungle, the high-pitched hum of hunger all around them. The cloud followed. “Ouch,” Jess cried, swatting at the things that bit her neck and back.

“Keep moving,” Mark yelled, and pulled her by the hand. “In here,” he said, and led them all to the abandoned metal hut. He yanked open the door and they piled past him, collapsing on the floor as he slammed the door.

From outside, the sound of a thousand flies hummed. From inside, the sound of gasping breath and stifled crying filled the silence. Nobody spoke.

Mark ran a hand across his neck and came back with the remains of three smashed insects. “What are they?” he asked.

Billy looked closer, noting the black underbellies and purple slashes of color across their backs. They were the size of mosquitoes, but thicker. The missing link between a gnat and a housefly. He could just make out the iridescent bulging eyes that were reminiscent of a billion inhabitors of garbage cans and other sources of decay. The procreators of maggots. The death cleaners.

“Some kind of fly,” Billy said finally. “Never seen one like it before though.”

“I thought you knew this island,” Casey accused.

“Yeah, I did,” he said. “Things change.”

The one window to the outside remained obscured by a cloud of buzzing insects. They covered the glass, landing for a few seconds, crawling across it in jerky, fast steps and then rising in the air again to loop and soar, looking for something to still their hunger. The air vibrated with a muffled but constant, nearby hum.

“This is insane,” Casey complained. “We can’t just sit in here.” But she didn’t make a move to leave; she hunched down, back to a wall, arms hugging her shins.

Mark stood up and moved to the corner of the hut. He picked up one of the canisters, and turned it around in his hands, looking for a label. But it was unmarked.

BOOK: Violet Lagoon
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