| Losing Your Head |
[Mar. 15th, 2009|06:43 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  confused | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Heads Will Roll by Various Artists | ] |
“Oh god!” gasped Brad as he leaned over and vomited.
The shock and stress of the situation was almost too much for him to handle. Everyone was standing around trying to figure out how and why they had gotten to this beach that was apparently in the middle of nowhere. The last thing he could remember was drinking the wine that Arylen had given them at the dinner in Vegas. He had woken up on the beach bare ass beside Andrea to total confusion. Thankfully, George had given him the cape the he had been wearing to cover up with.
“Just let it all out,” said Andrea as she did her best to soothe him.
Brad continued to wretch until nothing but a thick, white mucus came up. When he finally stopped vomiting, he was on his knees and shaking from the exertion. One minute he had been thinking that he was definitely going to score that night with Andrea and the next, he was here on the beach. It didn’t make any sense at all to him.
“This has to be some kind of nightmare,” he said at long last.
“It is a nightmare, except, this is really happening,” said Andrea.
“What do you remember?” asked Brad.
“I’ve already told you; drinking that wine and then waking up here,” she said as she helped him back to his feet.
“Hey, you two, come over here,” said Megan with a wave of her hand.
Brad and Andrea walked over to her, Ellie, Rok, Travis, and Andrew.
“We want to build a signal fire and need wood. The seven of us are going to gather up as much wood as we can,” said Megan.
“Uh, okay, I guess we can help out,” said Brad.
It made sense to him. Hopefully a ship or plane would see it, rescue them, and put an end to their screwed up situation. Brad went with Rok, Travis, and Andrew to look for fallen limbs and logs around the periphery of the thick jungle as the three women gathered up dried palm fronds to get the fire started.
“Where do you think we are?” asked Andrew as he and Brad were working on freeing a log from vines that had wrapped around it.
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought a lot about that,” replied Brad.
“Dude, it’s all I can think of, how can you not wonder where we are?”
“I’m still thinking of what happened. I mean, really, what the fuck is going on?”
Andrew shrugged his shoulders and the two looked at each other waiting for the other to say something. When neither spoke, they got back to work at freeing the log. It was difficult for Brad to work on dislodging the log because the cape that he had wrapped around himself kept coming loose.
“Here, let me fix that for you,” said Andrew.
He stepped over the log and grabbed the ends of the cape.
“I used to really like going to toga parties,” he said as he pulled the cape snug around Brad’s waist.
A few deft tucks and tugs later, the cape was secure. Brad thought it looked like a big diaper, but at least it kept him covered up. The two managed to get the log loose and dragged it to the spot that Megan wanted to start the fire. The women had a large pile of dried palm fronds. Rok and Travis had brought several loads of loose sticks that Ellie was using to form the base of the fire.
“Once we get it going, we’ll put that big log on it,” said Ellie.
“But we’re still going to need more wood, especially logs. These palm fronds and sticks won’t last long,” said Megan.
“If you want to really make it smoke, throw some green leaves on there,” suggested Travis.
The men went searching for more wood while Ellie and Megan focused on building the fire. Up and down the wood line they searched, dragging out armloads of fallen branches and small logs. Brad had just dumped a large armload of sticks and was walking back to where the others had been getting wood when he saw a trail leading into the jungle.
‘Hmmm, maybe this leads somewhere,’ he thought.
Looking around and not seeing anyone, he decided to walk down the trail a little to check it out. Being barefoot didn’t faze him at all; he was used to going sans shoes on much rougher ground than the trail. He noted several downed trees that would provide lots of fuel for the signal fire as he continued into the woods.
‘I probably shouldn’t be out here alone’, he thought when he realized that he’d been walking for several minutes.
Unlike the woods back home in Kentucky, the jungle was relatively quiet. Once in a while, he’d hear the chirping of a bug or a bird but not often. After another minute of following the trail, Brad decided to turn back and return to the beach. As he was turning, a glint of sunlight reflecting off of a shiny surface caught his eye. He squinted to see what it was and was shocked to see a shack sitting just thirty feet from the trail.
“Damn, I almost missed that,” he said to himself.
It was the first sign of civilization that he’d seen since waking up on the beach. Slowly he made his way through the thick foliage until he was beside the shack. It was old and in bad shape, but it showed that people had been here and probably weren’t far away. Through the dirty window, which in his opinion was a miracle that it was completely intact, he saw tools lining one of the walls and stacked in a corner.
“Those will be handy,” he said.
Brad walked around the shack until he stood in front of the empty door frame. The door was lying in several pieces just inside of the small shack. He thought it looked as though someone had broken in and not all that long ago. Sitting beside a dilapidated wooden chair was an old pair of leather boots.
“If they don’t fit me, surely they will someone else,” said Brad.
He took a tentative step onto the porch and after a few seconds decided it was sturdy enough to support his weight. Carefully, he walked across the porch and went into the shack. One, two, three, four steps in and he was by the chair. The inside of the shack smelled like sawdust and chewing tobacco with a slight oily undertone. He squatted down and picked up the left boot. It was covered with dust and after wiping some of it off he realized that they weren’t as old as he had originally thought.
“Just my size!” he said as he flipped the boot over and saw the number 12 on the bottom.
There was a creak behind him and he turned to see what had made the noise. A sudden blur of motion by something behind him and there was a very intense and sharp pain in his neck. He couldn’t stop himself from falling over and rolling. When he finally stopped moving, he was looking directly at his shoulders. He tried to get to his feet but his body didn’t move at all.
“What the fuck!” he yelled, or at least tried to yell but no sound came out.
The pain in his neck was almost overwhelming. Blood was spurting out of a vicious wound on top of his shoulders and it was then that he realized his head was no longer attached to his body. The horror of his situation finally struck him and he futilely tried to scream. Someone grabbed his hair and lifted him off of the ground. Dark spots were forming in his vision and he knew death was coming quickly. It was so hard to concentrate and he felt himself slipping away. His thoughts were slowing down and before his eyes gave out completely, he was face to face with the person who had killed him.
‘Dying…..that face……..I..know…..that…..face……no………………….’ |
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