Page 11 of Corrupted Torment

Only a few months older than me, Peter came to the island around about the same time I had. We couldn’t be more different though. Where he found himself more involved in the camp, I preferred to help with the more individual tasks. I liked to keep watch or scout out new sources of food and water. Then I’d volunteer to trek to the outpost alone when we needed minimal supplies. He is more interested in dealing with the disputes and niggles of day-to-day camp life.

I preferred the aspects I can keep control of; you can’t control people.

“He wasn’t looking after me. He was smothering me. I’m boiling. Let me out of here, will you?”

Peter barks out a laugh, moving forward to free me from the prison of blankets. He sits me up and passes me my flask. I inspect the water, wondering if it's clean enough to drink. To hell with it, I tip it to my lips, my desperation apparent as it quenches my thirst.

“You know that shy little thing came and asked me what to do when he thought you would die. You’ve been out of it for days. You were shivering, you know. You needed the heat. Kid even checked where to get your replacement water. As you’re already drinking it, you should be damn grateful he found out how to sanitise it too.”

I’m shocked. That small, innocent looking creature did all that for me. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone do anything like that for me before. I keep my eyes on my hands, scratching the dirt from underneath my fingernails. The gnawing guilt sinks deep inside my gut, chewing me from the inside.

Now he’s out there all alone, because of me, when all he was trying to do was help.

“You do remember being the one to bring him back, right? I mean, we were all pretty damn shocked when you rocked up with him, but the way you’re acting right now is like he’s an uninvited intruder.”

“He wasn’t. I mean, I appreciate what he did, but…”

“Huck, I don’t know what to tell you except you brought him back to your cave,” Peter interrupts me, his voice stern. So unlike his usual jovial tone that normally grates on my nerves. My stomach is in pieces, chewed up, spat out, and clawing guiltily at my insides.

“Shit, really? I honestly had no idea. Do you know where he went?”

“When I realised he was leaving, I tracked him a couple of miles away. When he saw me, he bolted. There was no way I could keep up with him. Ironically, the only person with that kind of stamina is you,” Peter replies, passing me some dried meat, an apple, and a protein bar.

“Eat up, then shift out. You’ve got a kid to find.”

* * *

Two days and I’ve only caught brief glimpses of him. From what I have learned from Peter, there is only one more day until the sirens ring. My gut churns at the thought of Dario being out here when that time comes. Pressure makes my head ache, an unyielding tension I won’t be able to ease until I find him.

I fear the things I may have forgotten. Not liking the thought of what harm could be caused by the gaps in my memory. Placing a hand over my pocket, I pat the familiar outline, checking my knife is in place. Sturdy and safe, exactly where it should be. I breathe out a small sigh of relief at its reassuring presence. At least in that one thing I can be certain of.

As the hours go by, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to bring him back home as I trek through the woods on this island. I’ve avoided the more frequented areas so far, but soon I’ll have to change my trajectory.

Stopping for a break, I pull the canteen from my pack and take a swig of water. The rustle of movement up ahead has me putting the flask away, careful to make no sound. Keeping my eyes peeled for danger, I crouch low in the dense greenery. I know full well just because the sirens haven’t sounded doesn’t mean all the danger is gone. Half the men on this island are just as deadly. Another reason to bring Dario safely back with me.

I spot someone running full pelt towards me in the distance. They don’t spot me, their focus purely on the momentum of their stride. I duck further into the bush; they might be escaping from a more lethal threat I need to avoid.

As they move steadily closer, I notice it’s the figure of a boy, one with curls of red hair. A smirk crosses my features at this minor stroke of luck. Here I was, thinking I was about to be dealing with someone more threatening than me, but here comes my own prey instead.

As he approaches, I ready myself, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. I leap out from the bush, and he lets out a startled screech, falling backwards harshly onto his behind. I can’t help the chuckle I let out, holding out my hand to help him up.

I watch with interest when he looks like he’s going to refuse. There’s a desperate urge to resist my help, but he begrudgingly gives in. I pull Dario to his feet, hand soft in my calloused palm. He stumbles over his own feet, and I put my arms around his waist to steady him. His face heats red, and he forcefully pushes away from me, turning to race away once again.

My mind sparks with recognition. I’d almost left him after his first rejection but that scream and seeing his scared face so desperate and alone. His pleading eyes begging me for help as a black-eyed predator took him to the floor.

His small hand clinging tightly to my own, his innocence shining through. I couldn’t help but take Dario under my wing, I couldn’t let anyone take advantage of him. I just can’t remember why I’d allowed him into my space when there had been so many others to spare. Maybe I hadn’t considered past that first night. I’d just figured he was my responsibility, and I had just wanted to give him a safe place to stay. I don’t know, but I what I do know is I can’t let him get away from me now.

I need to protect him.

“Dario!” I call out as he flees. I chase after him, never allowing him to get out of my view. The sun has been hotter the past couple of days, making the mud firm beneath my feet. It gives me a better advantage in this chase as most people from before never truly run barefoot on the hardened, cracked mud of the earth like we do here.

As foliage whips past me, catching at my clothes and skin, I don’t let it slow my pace. Keeping my eyes firmly on my target, I follow him onwards. Peter was right, his stamina is outstanding. At a guess, he’s had no problems finding food and water since he left the caves either. His body is by no means weakened by dehydration or lack of nutrients.

Tenacious little thing. A little fighter, with a true inner strength, despite his more nervous quirks.

“You’re so skittish, Dario. I’m gonna need to toughen you up a little bit, huh?”

My own words resonate through my mind as I picture his blushing face peering up at me. His green gaze held an unquestioning faith in my ability to look after him. I had held him tight, knowing that it was the right thing to do. That he had needed me to make him stronger as I pushed back a lock of his red hair.

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