Alex Garland - The Beach

And suddenly Jean had a knife and was cutting at the thin German girl, slicing into her belly and pulling out her insides. Then Cassie joined them, hunched over Zeph, working on his thighs. Étienne vomited, and within seconds the corpses were swarmed.

Looking back, I know that we could have left at that moment. There were still people under the marquee - all the cooks, Jesse, Gregorio, and a few of the gardeners — but they wouldn't have tried to stop us. And I was physically able to leave. The scene in front of me had sent so much adrenalin pumping through my system that my battering was forgotten. I could have run a marathon if necessary, let alone crept into the darkness.

But we stayed put. We were transfixed by the dissection of the rafters. Every severed limb seemed to root me further to the spot.

Friendly Fire

I don't know how long the frenzy lasted. It could have been as long as half an hour. The cutters had to fret and struggle with some of the joints, twisting arms around until tendons gave way. But at some point, I noticed that the crowd had dispersed, sitting exhausted beside their handiwork or milling in the darkness. Only Moshe remained. He was concentrating on something small, a finger perhaps, and he didn't seem to feel it was small enough. It was while I was watching Moshe that I heard Sal's voice.

'Wait on Chaweng for three days,' she read with numbing coldness. 'If we haven't come back by then it means we made it. See you there? Richard.'

The words took time for me to comprehend. Several seconds passed in which they meant nothing beyond random noises. But then, with a flash of understanding so tangible I almost saw it, their relevance became clear.

I turned. Sal was standing beside me, holding the piece of paper the VC boss had left behind. It had passed me by, that piece of paper. Deafened, pistol-whipped, its importance had been missed.

'...See you there,' she repeated flatly.' ...Richard.'

Outside the marquee, the surgeons stirred. Some came close by, nudging past Keaty, who was staring at me with a peculiarly blank expression.

'Richard?' one of them whispered. 'Richard brought the people here?' It was a girl, but she was so stained with red and black that I couldn't place her.

More arrived, quietly surrounding me, shutting off Keaty andFrançoise. Desperately, I began to search for a face I knew. I felt I could appeal to someone if I found a face I knew. I could plead a case. But the more cutters that arrived, the more anonymous they became. Under their shifting feet, candles were kicked over. Darkness grew, features melted. When Étienne vanished, I was alone with strangers.

'Jean!' I shouted.

The strangers laughed.

'Moshe! Cassie! I know you're here! ...Sal! Sal! '

But she had gone too. Where she'd been, a squat creature hissed at me. 'After Tet, life will be back to normal.'

'Sal, please,' I said, and a needle jabbed into my leg. I looked down. I'd been stabbed. Not deeply, but somehow that scared me more. I cried out and was stabbed again. The same pressure. Half an inch into the skin, this time my arm, the next time my chest.

For a moment I was too shocked to do anything but stupidly wipe at the blood running down my stomach. Then terror bubbled up in me, and when it reached my throat I started screaming. I also tried to fight. I threw a punch at the nearest face but it landed poorly and glanced harmlessly off the person's cheek-bone. The next punch I threw was blocked, and my wrists were held.

I pleaded, 'Don't,' and began spinning. Fear gave me strength and I managed to wrench myself free of the hold. But every time I span away from the knives, I was cut from behind. I could feel from the impact of the blows that the stabs were getting worse. No longer piercing but slicing. A different pain, less acute. Infinitely more alien and alarming.

'Not like that,' I sobbed.

Something slippery was wrapped around my neck. Intestines. Mine, I thought, my brain convulsing with fright, and tore them off. The strangers laughed and more objects were thrust at me. A hand that pawed my chest. An ear, clamped to the side of my head.

Feeling my knees about to buckle, I bunched up my arms. A last time, I looked up at howling figures and their knives. I called for Sal again. I asked her to make them stop. I told her that I was very sorryfor whatever I'd done, but I didn't know what it was any more. I only knew that I'd never wanted to do anything bad.

Finally I called out for Daffy Duck.

Suddenly, in the whirling faces, I saw one I recognized.

But Nothing

The stabbing continued, but it no longer hurt. The faces continued whirling, but the face I knew remained constant. I could talk to it calmly, and it could talk back.

'Daffy,' I said. 'This is fucked.'

'Yeah, GI.' He smiled. 'Beaucoup bad shit.'

'Fragged by my own side.'

'Happens all the time.'

A blade punctured my top lip. 'It doesn't mean anything, right?'

'Doesn't mean much.'

'Never should have been here. That's all.' I sighed as my legs collapsed and I fell down to the palm-leaf carpet. 'Jesus, this is a nasty way to die. At least it's ending.'

'Ending?' Daffy shook his head. 'It can't end now.'

'Can't?'

'Come on, Rich. Think. Think how it ought to end.'

'Ought to...'

'A flat roof, a panicking crowd, not enough room on the...'

'...Last chopper out.'

'That's the boy.'

'Evacuation.'

'Every time.'

Daffy was gone. The knives had stopped. One of the cutters had started twisting, fumbling at her belly, and another was toppling sideways, flailing out with his arms.

I looked around and saw Jed standing beside me. And beside him,Keaty, Étienne and Françoise. The four of them carried fishing spears, points fanning outwards. On the ground, Bugs sat with his arms crossed, fresh blood spilling into his lap. Moshe leant against one of the bamboo posts, sucking air through clenched teeth, clutching his ribs.

' You all keep back! ' Jed yelled. He reached down, lifted my arm over his shoulders, and dragged me up. ' Keep lack! '

Bugs slumped forwards. 'But,' said Sal. 'But...' She took a step in our direction, and Jed pushed his spear deep into the folds of her shirt. Immediately he pulled it back. Sal remained standing, swaying as the point exited.

' Back! 'Jed yelled again. ' All of you keep back! '

And amazingly, they all did. Though we were outnumbered and they could have easily prevented us if they'd wanted to, they let us go. I don't think it was because of Sal, who had closed her eyes and couldn't seem to catch her breath. It was because they were tired. Their slack arms and glazed eyes told me as much. Tired of everything. Beaucoup bad shit, too beaucoup.

GAME OVER

Strange But True

I feel I should provide an account of how we all got back home. But it's going to be a brief account because the story is over. This is just an epilogue.

We talked a lot. That's what I remember most about the journey -the talking. It's stuck in my memory because it seems so unexpected. You'd imagine silence, all of us withdrawn into our private horrors. And the first part of the journey, the night-time trek to the raft, was silent. But it was only because we were afraid of being heard by the guards. As soon as we'd pushed off and were on our way, we opened our mouths and never shut them. The funny thing is, I can't really remember what we talked about. Maybe because we talked about everything, maybe because we talked about nothing.

Because of my condition, I wasn't much help, but the others took a paddling and swimming rota in pairs. I kept getting shivering attacks. When they hit, all I could do was curl up and shake. They'd only last a couple of minutes, but Jed thought it better to keep me out of the sea in case I drowned. I'd already nearly drowned once, when we were swimming across the lagoon on the way to the caves and the chimney. In any case, the salt-water was murder on my stab wounds, superficial as they were.