Page 86 of Lost Paradise

“You can’t fuck a student in the real world,” Jack adds, “but here there aren’t any rules. You make things up as you go.”

When has this become aboutmenow?

“You're right, Jack. Here, I’m not your teacher. But rules will apply,myrules. Because I’m the leader of this pack.” I look at Astro. “You all had a chance to challenge me last night. This daily challenge stops now. The next person who attempts it and loses will be forced out of the pack and away from camp. At some point, I’ve got to draw the line.”

Dropping my long-armed spear on the floor, I swiftly remove my shirt and look at each man in the face.

“If there’s someone who wants to challenge me for leadership, step forward.”

Astro goes to step forward, but Jack pulls him back and gives him a slight shake of his head.

“No?” I ask, eyeing each one, and I know as much as they want my position, it would be a tough fight. I always win, especially when rules don’t apply.

“Good then. Let this be the last time anyone tries to challenge me because as long as we are on this island, there can be only one Alpha.”

I collect my shirt, put it on, and collect the spear.

“For the record, my name is Foster,” I announce. “I’m letting formalities down since we’ve established leadership in our pack. And I’m setting down a major rule concerning Eve. No one forces themselves on her. I’m not holding exclusive rights on her, but I also won’t allow for her to be disrespected either.”

All three men remain still, silently watching me.

“And for the record, Astro, you’re going to cover yourself,” he opens his mouth to say something, but I won’t let him object this time. “I don’t give a flying toss about your born-again nudist lifestyle. Eve is putting an item together for you, and I suggest you thank her and avoid your usual snide remarks when she presents it to you. Even if it looks like shite.”

I don’t hesitate and begin to move further through the jungle and hear them follow me.

We push through the dense foliage of the jungle. Every step feels like a struggle against the lush greenery that threatens to swallow us whole. Sweat trickles down my forehead, mingling with the damp air that hangs heavy. The sounds of the jungle surround us, a mix of chirping insects, rustling leaves, and distant calls of unknown animals of which, other than birds, we haven’t seen.

With each stride forward, anticipation mounts. We started this treacherous hike this morning, and it feels like we’ve been on this trail for an eternity and still cannot locate the source of whatever is making these savages stay away from this part of the island.

Yet, I’m determined to press on, driven by the unwavering determination to find answers.

“Are we going in circles?” Astro asks, and I stop as he lifts up his bare foot, which has blackenedfrom walking.

“No,” Zane says, looking around the area searching. “I’ve been breaking foliage on purpose as markers. So far, we haven’t repeated our trail.”

That was smart. I’ve been doing similar.

“Are you alright to continue?” I ask, concerned about Astro walking barefoot.

He lets his foot down and nods, determined to see this through.

Without further words, we push through, and after what seems like an endless journey, we emerge from the jungle onto a long, open shore.

The sight that greets us takes my breath away.

We’ve been stranded on this island for what seems like forever, but what’s before me is something else altogether.

Stretching out in front of us is a vast expanse of light golden sand kissed by the gentle caress of the waves. I shield my eyes from the bright sun as I scan the horizon, my gaze falling upon the scattered debris of a plane strewn across the golden sand.

“Is that from our plane?” Zane asks.

The wreckage lies scattered like a puzzle left unfinished by the hands of fate. Pieces of twisted metal jut out from the sand, glinting in the bright midday sun. Parts of the fuselage, once a sturdy shell of protection, now lie as broken pieces, its once smooth surface marred by the relentless assault of the ocean waves.

Debris litters the shore, a grim reminder of the violent collision that had brought us here and the aircraft to its untimely end. Bits of shredded fabric cling to the wreckage, fluttering in the gentle breeze like tattered flags. The smell of salt and decay hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the acrid scent of something vile.

“It has to be from our plane,” Astro replies. “I’m guessing the rest of it sunk to the bottom of the ocean.”

And there, amidst the wreckage, in the far distance, lies something that sends a chill down my spine.

---