Adrian Smith - The Rule of Three

Thinking of George, he smiled. George had adapted well to his new surroundings, even finding a few new friends in the camp. They had him running around squealing in no time.

Dee, Jack and George had spent the morning collecting manuka flowers from the many trees that dotted the hills surrounding the bay and camp. George had asked why they were doing this several times, and Dee had patiently explained that it was a way of remembering people. If truth be told, she and Jack had seen the ritual in a movie with Native Americans in it and had loved the sincerity of it. When Dee’s father had died, she and Jack had honoured him with the ritual.

As they had no bodies to bury, this was the only way they could think of to honour those lost.

Jack and Dee had discussed at length about trying to find Jack’s family. No one they knew had made it to Mayor Island nor any of the other pockets of survivors they’d had radio contact with. Jack insisted his family were smart. They knew about the cabin, so there was a chance.

Jack could feel the sea breeze picking up as it came up off the ocean and met the volcanic island. Perfect, he thought, smiling.

Crunching on the pathway behind him warned of people approaching. Turning, he watched in admiration as Boss, using crutches, his lower right leg bandaged at the stump, walked along behind the others.

Boss had stayed in the infirmary for a further two weeks. The nurses had finally let him out, for a short time at least.

“You guys ready?”

“Yup,” they chorused.

Jack let out a nervous sigh. “We are here today to honour and remember those who we lost. We lost friends, family, pets, everything. But amongst it all, we found each other. We drew strength and courage from each other. These brave men and women on this island, and Ben, who helped us; they give us new hope so that we can carry on. We owe it to others’ sacrifices that we carry on, not only for them, but for ourselves.”

Jack, Dee, Boss and George raised up their arms and opened their palms, allowing the wind to carry away the crushed flowers.

Dee reached over and slid her hand into Jack’s.

George clung between them, leaning out over the cliff to watch the flowers float towards the sea.

“A fine speech, Jack.” Jack turned around. Frowning, he watched Ben hobble towards them. “A fine speech indeed.”

Ben reached out and grasped them all in a hug.

“Benny!” George squealed.

Ben ruffled George’s hair. Smiling at Jack and Dee, he nodded at each of them. “Sorry I’m late. The colonel’s meetings tend to drag on. But we’ve a heap to do and little manpower to do it with.” He stroked his long bushy beard. “Did you guys mean what you said? About letting me train you?”

“Yes. I’m keen,” Jack said, looking at Dee.

She grinned. “Sure, why not.”

“Good, I’m glad. We need everyone we can get. Especially people like you. You both showed real courage under fire. I think that with some training, you two will be real handy in what’s to come.”

“What is to come?” Jack asked.

“I can’t give details yet, but we’re going to fight back. The colonel’s been on the horn to the Americans. That’s all I can say at the moment.” A pondering look flickered across his face. Jack searched his twinkling brown eyes for anything else, but Ben’s face remained a calm mask.

Ben nudged Boss on the shoulder. “Boss, the colonel has agreed to teach you radio operations. He’s dying to know how you reached the Americans on some amateur ham radio. You begin as soon as Doc gives you the all-clear.”

Boss grinned at him, barking out a laugh. “Did I leave that part out?”

“Yes,” Ben said, raising a thick eyebrow.

“You guys ever heard of a place called Guam?” Boss said. “An island?”

“A Pacific island. Yes,” Ben said.

“That’s where the Americans were, until I lost contact.”

“There is an American base there, so it makes sense,” Ben said.

Jack shifted his weight off his injured leg and chortled. He wasn’t sure if Boss was joking or being serious.

Boss smirked at Dee, glanced at Jack and Ben. “You guys know I’m the hero in this rule of three, eh?”

“Hero? In the rule of three? Boss?” Jack frowned.

“Yeah, you know, teenage guy or girl ripped away from his home, orphaned. Meets old wise man. Gets trained and fights back.”

“Ah, you mean the classical hero’s journey. And it’s twelve steps, I think,” Jack said. He laughed and shook his head.

“Yeah, that’s the one, but whatever.”

“Kid, don’t make me laugh. I’m still healing,” Ben said, holding his side. “And just so you know, the rule of three is a survival guide. Basic guide at best.”

Dee wrapped her arm around Boss and held him close. “You’re a goofball.”

Jack smiled as he turned back to see the last of the sun dip down over his homeland. Despite all the horror and trauma he had been through, he was happy. He had survived. He had escaped the Variant nest. He had saved George. Amongst all the chaos, he had found Dee. He was determined not to let this second chance go to waste. To find his family. To give George, Boss and everyone a world to live in.

He wrapped his arms around Dee, feeling her warmth as they watched the first of the stars appear on the horizon.

Not just my stars, but everyone’s. They belong to everyone. To shine a little light down on this dark new world.

George squealed, the noise bouncing around the cliffs as he chased a cicada.

Jack could be forgiven for thinking everything was normal. It felt as if the last couple of weeks hadn’t happened. As if Dee and he were on a camping trip, enjoying nature. Jack sighed as he looked back at the mainland. It was far from over. It had only just begun.

Three weeks without food, three days without water, three hours without shelter, and three minutes without air.

One Eye made his way through the field, his subjects following a short distance behind. He could smell the others approaching from the north, west and east. He stopped in the middle of the field and bellowed. Three bellows sounded out in response. They were close. Soon his plan would be put into motion. Soon the remaining humans would be corralled into nests. They needed to breed again, provide him with food.

A human fragment tugged at him. Didn’t he used to do this with animals?

He shook the memory away. The anger, the hunger, gnawed at his soul. First, he wanted to find the little one who had taken his eye. He wanted to feel the satisfaction of ripping the flesh from its bones and sucking out its marrow. The humans had escaped his grasp in the thumping beast that sent stinging, burning rain on him. He had lost many of his tribe chasing them.

Finally the others approached, the Alpha leaders towering over their minions. The other three stopped around him. He looked them over. He could smell the blood as it pumped through their veins. Hear their hearts thumping. Air as it escaped their lungs.

Half of him wanted nothing more than to rip out their throats. To lap up the blood as it gushed out. To feast on their flesh until his hunger was satisfied. But he needed them. Needed their cooperation.

“Where?” he grunted, sniffing the air.

The Alpha who had come from the north signalled behind him. Variants pushed two humans, a man and a woman, forwards, shoving them to the ground at the feet of One Eye.

He gazed down at them. The blonde hair of the woman was matted against her head. He fought the urge to sink his teeth into her neck and taste her blood. The last remaining human part of his brain bubbled to the surface. She’s a real beauty.

He bellowed angrily, then grunted, “Where?”