The Prisoner


Laughlin and I made our way back to the prison cell, where the Tongan man was still unconscious. He looked like he had been beaten nearly to death, and his condition was not good. Questioning him was obviously not going to be possible. I frowned as I realized the extent of his injuries, and commented, "I'm liking the users of the cavern less and less by the minute. We've got to get him out of here. The question is how?"

"I can't think of anything that isn't way too time consuming," Laughlin responded. Obviously, we would have very little chance of getting him past that shark, and I don't think we can afford to wait for the bastards upstairs to leave with the storm coming."

I didn't think I liked the direction this discussion was heading. "I seriously hope you aren't suggesting that we leave him here to die."

"I am actually wondering if we have any choice. We can't take him through the underwater exit with no equipment while he is unconscious, and I don't think we are good enough to sneak by the men in the other exit. If you see some other option, please let me know."

"We could wait for them to finish unloading, then try to make it back to our boat before the storm hits. They have to stop in time to get off of the island too, after all. Assuming they haven't found our boat and sunk it or something."

It was a possibility I didn't like to think about, but we did have to consider it. Our boat wouldn't be visible from where the islanders were unloading, because of the trees, but a short walk would easily reveal it.

"There are other choices," Laughlin insisted. "We could stash him in the supply room, and make it look like he just disappeared, and then come back for him later. One of us could swim back for the boat, and then at a particular time we could try to cause a distraction and just run out of here. Something along those lines."

I shook my head. "Stashing him won't work. First, he might die while we were gone, and second, once they discover him missing, they'll search the area for him, and I don't recall seeing a place to hide him that they wouldn't find. Plus, they'll know someone else was here, since he obviously isn't capable of escaping on his own, and they'll be on their guard for our return. We won't be able to get back in. The distraction idea might work, but we'll give away our presence here." I sighed, realizing that might prove unavoidable. "What kind of distraction were you thinking of? It can't be something like leading them off with the boat, since that leaves the person with the injured man no way of actually getting off the island. Unless we steal their boat...no, they'll probably leave a guard on it."

"The only kind of distraction I can think of involves extensive use of flare guns and might kill someone. I don't know that I want to kill anyone."

"I don't either. Although this place makes me wonder about its owners. Which leaves us with waiting for them to leave, and trying to beat the storm back. One of us should probably go out to the boat beforehand, so as soon as the natives leave the boat can be brought in and save valuable time." I frowned, as a worrisome thought occurred to me. "We are, of course, assuming that they'll leave before the storm, rather than come in here."

"I say that if we can't get him conscious and able to hold his breath on his own, then we need to come back for him later. Anything else is too dangerous to him and us."

I could see the logic in this, but I still didn't like it. The idea of leaving this man, who'd already been hurt so badly, to die of his injuries, or worse, as some kind of sacrifice.... I wasn't sure I'd have any luck at rousing him, given how bad off he was, but I had to try.

Laughlin, meanwhile, continued his efforts at convincing me. "Jillian, we are going to have to leave him. I don't like it either, but we aren't going to sneak by those men out there. We aren't equipped to fight it out, even if I were willing to do that, and there is no way this guy is getting by that damned shark. I am not even certain that we will be able to."

"It looked like you blew the shark up," I pointed out. "Not that this means there won't be others, of course, but I don't see how it could have survived that."

"Even without the shark, he won't be able to hold his breath, and we would be even slower dragging someone behind us. I just don't think it is doable."

I frowned. "I think it's worth the effort to try and wake him up, at least. He might be able to give us some idea of what's going on here."

"Not arguing that at all, but I have no idea how to wake up a guy that is in a coma, do you?"

"Nothing beyond what I'm already trying."

I continued trying to rouse the man for several more minutes before my efforts were rewarded and he slowly came around. He blearily looked up at the two of us, and then began to babble at us in what I assumed was his native language. I looked over at Laughlin. "I don't suppose you speak any Tongan?"

He gave me a wry look, and tried a couple of other languages that I didn't recognize. Suddenly, we heard the chanting outside stop. I muttered, "Shit," under my breath then listened intently for anything that would indicate the chanters were heading down into the cave. Laughlin froze and did the same. No sounds were forthcoming. All was quiet.

Laughlin started moving stealthily towards the entrance to the cave, presumably to see if anyone was coming down. I stayed with the poor Tongan, who seemed to be repeating one word rather frequently: "Hee-na." Then he began to relapse into quiet, and I feared that he was dying. I tried to make him as comfortable as I could, holding onto his hand while I waited for Laughlin to return. More than ever, I was convinced that I could not just leave the man here to die. It wouldn't be right.

Laughlin returned after what felt like an eternity, and filled me in on the current situation. The beach had been abandoned by all but two islanders, who were sitting outside of the temple entrance using canvas tarpaulins as shields against the rising wind. The crates had been left on the sand, covered in tarpaulins.

"Do you want to take those two out?" Laughlin asked. "I think we can probably do it without killing them, and possibly also without getting seen. I would like to get a look in those crates before we get out of here, and those two are blocking the only easy way out."

"What about him?" I nodded my head towards the Tongan. "I think he's dying."

"The plan is to take him with us right? That was the general problem?" he asked, still keeping an eye on the passage. Then he looked back at me and in a hurried but firm voice said, "Well, now we can. We take out those two up there. One of us drags them into the cavern so they don't die in the storm and comes down and gets this guy, while the other goes and gets the boat and we head out of here."

I nodded and got to my feet, not needing any convincing. "I don't suppose they left a boat for the two remaining Tongans? That's going to be a rough swim back out to our boat."

"I think we have been lucky enough so far," he replied, "let's not ask for too much more, we might need it later."

Laughlin and I crept back to the surface, past the hideous demon masks and weirdly biological hallways, and peered out from the foliage. The sky was darkening, but was still clear in the west. The two native men sat talking quietly thirty feet from the opening, their backs to a large palm. The wooden crates were lined up on the beach above the high water mark. Neither man seemed particularly alert, though both were more or less facing the temple entrance, and each had a wicked spear lying beside him. There was a little cover near the door, a stone altar behind which we were now hiding, but no other cover nearby until one reached the crates, which were about thirty feet to the left of the entrance. The crates formed a more or less equilateral triangle with the men and the entrance. We would have to come into the open to get to either them or the men.

I studied the layout for a bit, then motioned for Laughlin to follow me back into the cave. Given how voices can carry in an enclosed space, and since we didn't have the chanting to cover us this time, I retreated all the way back to the altar chamber before asking, in a low voice, "Ideas? Did you spot any more of them?"

"No, I only saw the two. I think the best bet is to just walk quietly out there, already having the drop on them. We can probably run them down if they flee, and if they charge, just shoot them."

I nodded. It was a simple plan, but those were usually the best kind. The more complicated a plan, the more things that could go wrong. "Any idea what the range is on these spear guns out of water?"

"Hopefully that won't be an issue, but I imagine around 15 feet and still kind of hit what you're aiming at."

I looked thoughtful. "I'd guess the Tongans are about 30 feet from the entrance. Pity. I would have liked to keep one of us concealed initially, to provide covering fire for the other one. Just in case there turn out to be more of them."

Laughlin gave me a wry grin and said, "I don't think there are really expecting anyone. I imagine that if we come out relatively fast we should be able to get in effective range before they know what is going on."

I found myself grinning as well, despite the seriousness of the situation. "Too bad neither of us know how to say, 'Drop your weapons!' in Tongan."

Laughlin and I both loaded our spear guns, and I made sure my dive knife and a bang stick were close at hand. I figured I could probably reload my spear gun in about ten seconds, if I needed to, but in a fight, ten seconds is a long time. Best to have alternatives ready.

Satisfied that we were as prepared as we could be, we quietly made our way back to the tunnel entrance and peered out to find the situation unchanged. Laughlin nodded at me, pointed at the one on the left, then himself, and before I could respond, he headed out of the entrance at a fast walk, spear gun leveled. I felt a flash of irritation go through me. Since when was he in charge of this expedition? I was the one with experience at this sort of thing. Not that he knew that.... At any rate, there was nothing I could do about it now that he had exposed himself. For good or for ill, the fight had begun.


Sharper Than a Serpent's Tooth
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All text on this page is © 2000-2002 by Kris Fazzari.

Last modified on June 11, 2002 by Kris Fazzari.