Lost Paradise (The Savages of the Blue Lagoon)

9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I jump out of the dark jungle, and a smirk plays on my lips. This evening has been intense, to say the least, filled with adrenaline and precisely the kind of rush I craved.

Watching them all day today acting like the royal brats they were bred as, trying to get comfortable, far away from rules and regulations they can’t hide behind. Welcome to my world, where we fight to survive and battle it out on the streets day and night.

And tonight was awesome as I stood in the dark watching them huddled together, their eyes wide with fear, clinging to each other as if they were children lost in a nightmare.

Pathetic really.

I can't stop laughing as I saunter toward them with a winning swagger.

“What’s with the long faces? Did you miss me?”

“This isn’t funny,” Byron the Brain mutters angrily.

I grin, relishing the fear that I can practically taste in the air. "Relax, mate. It's just a joke. You guys were freaking out over nothing."

But instead of joining in on my laughter, they stare at me with expressions that range from disbelief to anger.

“Come on, lighten up,” I say. “I’m alive. But Princess, honestly, I expected a thong, not granny knickers.”

“You’ve been trailing us all day?” Mr. Coldwell asks, and I wonder if this geezer has a first name.

“Hey man,” Zane breaks from the crowd, strolls over, and pulls his hand out. He seems the only one who can appreciate a good joke.

The smirk playing on his lips mirrors my own, so I reach out to grab his forearm to exchange that friendship and his fist shoots out with lightning speed, connecting squarely with my face. Pain explodes through my face, a shockwave that reverberates through my body.

I stumble backward, clutching my throbbing nose, stunned by the suddenness of the attack. Blood gushes from my nostrils, staining my already destroyed shirt crimson as I struggle to regain my bearings.

“What the hell, wanker?” I splutter, blinking back the tears of pain and disbelief. The bastard has one ferocious fist.

Zane stands back, grinning, his eyes glinting with a fierce determination that catches me off guard.

“You’ve had it coming for days,” he replies, his voice dripping with contempt.

I’m way too dazed to respond, too busy trying to stem the flow of blood pouring from my nose. It throbs with every heartbeat, a constant reminder of my own foolishness in making my presence known to these imbeciles.

“To think that I almost felt sorry for you!” Eve announces. “You should have stayed freaking dead!”

I shrug, not allowing my battered ego to show. I wasn’t brought up to show weakness or defeat. At some point, I’ll get that cocky American athlete. I’ll give him a taste of the Corinthian Syndicate on his own, without witnesses.

“Awe, Princess,” I focus my attention on Eve. “And here I thought of you and came here bearing gifts, with just you in mind.”

I pretend to reach in my pocket and feel for something as I approach her. Zane steps forward, blocking my way, and I’m beginning to lose my patience with him.

“I let you get your way once. Don’t press your luck with me,” I warn.

“Zane,” Mr. Coldwell draws his attention. “Stand down.”

Go on, dog, listen to the man with the wise words.

“Watch your back, asshole, 'cause I have you marked,” Zane's eyes darken with his threat as he reluctantly steps aside.

He’ll get what’s coming, one way or another. Rather than retaliate, I’ll let him think he’s won this battle. I strike when he’ll least expect it.

I reach into my pocket and smile at the blonde beauty before me. Watching the males all pine after her today at the lagoon was hilarious. Even Mr. Coldwell couldn’t keep his knob down as he struggled to keep his eyes off that sexy arse of hers .

Despite what I said about her choice of lingerie, Eve Winters looks hot and sexy as fuck in that white cotton ensemble she chose to wear for the flight.

The color white is the operative word because when she climbed out of the water and stood under that waterfall, everything was on display, and not one of these poncers let her know because they all enjoyed the view.

So before some dumbarse wants to cast the first stone at me, they better have a reality check on their own selfish and corrupted minds. The difference between me and the other males here is that I embrace my dark nature. These poor blokes will struggle in the closet they cast themselves in because society dictates otherwise.

“Here, babe,” I approach her, and she rolls her eyes. “Got something for you while I roamed the island all day.” I pick it up from my feet and hold it up to her face.

The scream that erupts from her mouth could've stopped the world in its tracks. I brace myself, expecting the others to pounce on me, but as I glance towards them, what I didn’t anticipate was Eve snatching the human skull and swinging it at my head.

“Asshole! Your piece of human shit!” she screams, each word punctuated by the sickening thud of the skull connecting with my own. I brace myself to protect my head from her bashing because the last thing I’d ever do is hit a female.

Byron pulls her off me, his arms locking around her, while Jack positions himself between us. Zane swiftly grabs the skull from her and passes it to Mr. Coldwell, who now seems to have more steam blowing from his head than the smoke from the campfire.

“I’m going to kill him!” Eve continues to rant, spitting curses with every breath. It's like I've ignited a fire within her that I never knew existed. “Let me kill the bastard!”

“Eve!” Byron's voice is firm, his grip unyielding as he holds her back. I've never seen him exhibit such strength, but tonight is full of surprises. “He’ll get what’s coming, but you can’t kill him.”

As Eve's rage slowly subsides, her chest heaves with each breath, her fists gradually unclenching. The fire in her eyes flickers and dims, replaced by a weariness that seems to settle into her bones.

Her shoulders slump, the tension draining from her body like water seeping from a squeezed sponge. The adrenaline that has fueled her fury begins to ebb away, leaving behind a hollow emptiness.

As I watch Eve's fierce display, something primal stirs within me. Gone is her royal snobbish attitude, replaced by an intoxicating blend of ferocious Amazonian and alluring goddess. There's an undeniable allure to a woman who's not afraid to bloody her knuckles. And goddammit, Eve is freaking unbelievably sexy when she’s fuming. There's a raw, unbridled energy to her that I find incredibly irresistible. I can only imagine what make-up sex is like with her.

With a shaky exhale, she takes a step back, disentangling herself from Byron's grasp. Her gaze falls to the ground, and for a moment, she seems lost in thought, grappling with the whirlwind of emotions that had overtaken her.

Silence descends upon the group, broken only by the crackling of the campfire and the distant sounds of the night. It's as if we're all holding our breath, waiting for the storm to pass.

And then, slowly but surely, a sense of calm washes over Eve. She lifts her head, her expression softened by a glimmer of resignation. It's clear that the fire of her anger hasn't extinguished entirely, but for now, it's been banked to smoldering embers.

“I have only one question for you, Astro,” Mr.Coldwell says as he examines the skull. “Where did you find this?” he holds it up to me.

“Aren’t you interested in what happened to me?”

“You’re here,” his mouth draws to a thin line, unimpressed with my attempt to raise interest in my circumstances. “how you got here is irrelevant compared to the shitshow you made tonight.”

Wow. I bet if I find his thread, I can unravel him in no time. Everyone has a loose end. I just need to discover his. Watching this group today, it’s obvious he’s put himself as King of this tribe, and I intend to challenge him and take his throne and claim the blonde beauty as my royal slut.

“Well, while all you were eyeing up Eve’s tits and arse by the lagoon, I was doing some hardcore trekking and discovered this place. It’s pretty amazing,” Actually, it was the best part of this island. “I can take you there right now.”

“At night?” Byron asks skeptically.

“I agree with Byron,” Mr. Coldwell interjects. “We’ll go see it tomorrow when there’s daylight.”

“I’m in,” Jack says, and I grin at him, always knowing my roommate was one I could rely on for all the dodgy shite. I reckon there’s more darkness in the brooding lad than all of us.

“There’s more from where that’s come from,” I say, and both Jack and Mr. Coldwell's mouths are agape, but for very different reasons.

Jack seems enthusiastic, and the other one is acting with caution.

“This is the skull of a human baby,” Mr. Coldwell says, carefully observing it in his hand, and Eve whimpers.

“A baby? I bashed this idiot’s head with a baby’s head?” she asks, seemingly mortified.

“Eve, luv,” I say as a smirk curls up my lips, “ You do realize the baby is dead, right?”

“If there’s more,” Mr. Coldwell butts in before she has a chance to reply, “then what you’ve come across is some kind of burial site.”

“More like a sacrificial temple because there’s an altar.”

“What the fuck?” Zane says, and I’d like to get his head on that altar. I can almost feel my nose has tripled in size.

“You plonker,” Byron interrupts the chatter. “You interrupted a burial site that most likely belongs to the natives living on this island. You’ve created sacrilege by removing a body part from there!”

“Which means this island is inhabited by people, and we’re not alone here,” Mr. Coldwell says thoughtfully. “Did you see any natives? Maybe they can give us an insight into where we are and how to contact a rescue.”

“You don’t want to mess around with savages,” I advise. “Most of the time, they’re hostile and unfriendly.”

“Can we call them natives and not savages? It just seems rude,” Eve interjects.

“I have to agree with Astro on the natives' possible hostility,” Byron retorts. “I know we’re nowhere near the Bay of Bengal where the North Sentinel Island is, but we can’t overlook the fact that the people who live here might not be partial to outsiders.”

“Then they’re savages,” I confirm. “And judging by the amount of skulls I found, they like collecting them.”

“Or they’re cannibals.”

“That’s just what you see in movies. Hannibal Lecter was just a made-up character. Just legends and tales.” Zane responds.

“What the hell are you on about, mate?” I ask, looking at him perplexed.

“Cannibalism has been well documented in much of the world, including Fiji, the Congo, New Guinea, and parts of New Zealand,” Byron the Brain explains. “Some tribes eat members who have passed on.”

“That’s disgusting,” Eve recoils.

“There are different types of cannibalism, such as survival cannibalism, which is the consumption of others under conditions of starvation such as shipwreck, military siege, and famine, in which persons normally opposed to the idea are driven by the will to live. Then there’s medical cannibalism—”

“Stop!” Eve interrupts Byron, “Just stop!”

Byron’s a right encyclopedia of information.

“So, do we start eating each other?” I say, staring straight at Eve and purposely licking my lips. “I’d like to start with Eve! Who’s in?” I raise my hand up with eagerness.

“Pipe down,” Mr. Coldwell announces. “No one’s eating anyone here.” I guess he missed the meaning of my eating Eve. “Astro, you’ll need to return that to where you found it. You can’t keep it here tonight.” He hands me a torch and the skull.

“You’re expecting me to go alone?” I stare at him.

“And stay there too,” Zane adds.

“Great idea!” Eve adds, and Zane wraps his arm around her protectively. The geezer is so desperate for action from her that it’s actually gut-retching to watch.

“I’ll go with you,” Jack says, grabbing a torch, “I want to see this place.”

“Jack, remain here,” Mr. Coldwell commands.

“You can’t stop me,” Jack says. “In case you look around, we’re in a jungle, not Hawthornes Valor’s dean’s office.”

That earns a raised brow from the assistant professor.

“Fine,” he mutters, grabbing a torch, “We’ll all go. I don’t like the idea that there might be potential hostile natives on the island, and you took something from them.”

“You know,” I say, “if they’re cannibals, most likely, they ate this baby,” I say, holding out the skull.

Suddenly, our attention is drawn to the hacking noise that comes from Eve. As she turns away, she stumbles towards the nearest bush. Her hand clutches her stomach as she retches. The sound is guttural and raw, echoing through the silent night air.

The slight pang of guilt quickly passes, and I drop my head back into hysterical laughter. As Eve empties the contents of her stomach into the bush, I can’t help but feel a certain satisfaction watching the princess succumb to her primal fate.

Mr. Coldwell steps forward without hesitation, ignoring the tension lingering in the air. He approaches her with a gentle yet determined stride.

Placing a comforting hand on her back, he offers silent support. He doesn’t say anything and instead simply stands by her side as a steady presence. Zane quickly takes his cue to follow. Eve’s shoulders slump with relief as she feels both men on either side of her. She leans into the older man briefly and then straightens herself up, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“I’m fine. It’s probably just all that fruit I ate earlier,” she says, grabbing a torch from the fire.

“Eve, you don’t have to go, darling. One of the lads can stay here with you,” Mr. Coldwell says, looking at her with concern.

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” She says, determined. He looks at her skeptically, and without wasting another minute, I turn around and head back into the dark jungle, feeling Jack follow me. Within seconds, I know the rest of the pack is following me.

“This could be a trap,” I hear the pathetic athlete say to someone behind me.

“He’s incapable of masterminding such,” Eve says, and while I’d love to retaliate, I stay quiet because they don’t even realize I’m already on my way to leading this pack.

“So, how far is this place?” Byron calls out.

“Keep your knickers on, ladies,” I say as we venture deeper into the dark jungle.

The sounds of the night surround us, a symphony of nature that’s hauntingly beautiful in its intensity, reflecting the quiet turmoil I carry within. As the thick canopy blocks out the moonlight, it feels as though the jungle understands my inner darkness, offering a strange, comforting familiarity.

I press forward. Each step brings us closer to this destination. The others move in silence, their senses on high alert, scanning the shadows for any sign of danger. A sudden rustling in the underbrush ahead sends a ripple of tension through the group. We stop in our tracks, our torches held upward, ready to face whatever lurks in the darkness.

“This better not be a trap,” the athlete mutters a warning between his teeth as he joins my side.

“Stop being a wanker,” I whisper back, this bloke is seriously grating on my nerves.

Mr. Coldwell steps forward and parts the foliage, revealing the moonlit clearing beyond. A collective sigh of relief sweeps through the group. There, nestled among the tall exotic trees, lay the site where I had discovered the skull.

With a sense of purpose, we move forward, combing through the undergrowth, our torches casting long shadows against the ground. We finally reach the ancient ruins of this temple, where walls are lined with the skeletal remains of countless souls.

“What the fuck?” someone gasps.

“Be careful, princess, there’s a large stone basin over there if that funny fruit you ate decides to make an appearance,” I point to the center of the open, roofless temple.

“You mug,” Byron mutters, and I’m surprised at his choice of insults for a brainiac like him. I would have expected more sophisticated words. “This is a sacrificial area, not a burial site. That basin is where they sacrificed people.”

“Despite the overgrowth of nature here and its seemingly abandoned state, these skulls remain remarkably well-preserved,” Mr. Coldwell remarks, intrigued by the ivory bones.

“Abandoned,” Zane enquires, “Does that mean there’s a chance the natives died out or left?”

“No, they’re here,” I confirm.

All five pairs of eyes stare at me.

“While you all spent the day gathering sticks and stones, I made my way around….” I begin to tell them my story. Although not every detail is true, I’ll glamorize most of it.

“…I ended up on the North side of the island. There, a group of naked tribal women found me. They took me in, fed me, cleaned me up, fucked me, and sent me on my way. Then I decided to explore the place and came across the blue lagoon on the south side; then saw you desperate gits decided to play Let's get Eve wet in her white cotton undies and watch her dark nips shine through . Just curious though, did you also have your pussy lasered?”

Slap. That hand comes hard across my face, and I swear my knob likes it because I’m suffering a stiffie from this woman’s partial leaning to using violence to express herself.

“You’re an asshole,” she sneers, and her athlete minion steps forward as if to intimidate me .

“We’ve already established that, back at camp, stop feeding into his needs,” Byron the Brain firmly says, and I swear he is really smart.

“How did you find this place?” Mr. Coldwell steps forward, and we both catch Jack by the stone basin, sniffing it like a dog.

What a weird chap.

“Jack?”

Then he surprises all of his as he whips out his tongue and licks it.

Fuck, the lad is seriously bonkers.

He looks up at all of us, staring at him in shock, and grins mischievously.

“This was used for humans but hasn’t been used in decades, judging from the overgrowth,” he says and gets up to pass his hand across the wall of human skulls as if his licking the stone was something normal.

“How do you know it was used for humans?” I ask, dying to hear his answer.

“Because I know what human tastes like,” he says in a serious manner, and I can't help but like this guy even more.

Suddenly, Eve makes a run back into the bushes and retches over again.

“And this is only just the beginning, darling,” I say and snigger. “Wait till you meet the real-life cannibals. They ain’t as friendly as one might think. Best stay on the south part of the island. For some reason, they don’t venture past this imaginary line, drawn straight across the island.”

“So you did see others?”

“Yeah, but hostile.”

“Fuck.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Eve muses, returning from her vomit bush, swiping her sleeve across her mouth.

I roll my eyes. “Because you don’t want to face reality.”

Eve's glare is ice-cold. "And I suppose you're the authority on reality now?"

“He the authority on jackasses,” Zane chuckles, and Eve joins in on the taunting.

I grit my teeth with frustration because I’d really love to swipe that smile and teeth off this annoying twat of an athlete .

"I see all the Mean Girl groupies have formed,” pretending to be hurt. “It's now all the cool kids against the outcasts. I wouldn’t have expected anything less from a bunch of Americans to start such.”

The tension thickens as I feel the familiar sting of isolation. Without another word, I turn and storm off.

“Where are you going?” Mr. Coldwell calls out with concern.

He can stuff it right up his teaching arse.

“I’m forming my own goddam camp down by the beach.”

"Hey, wait!" Jack calls after me, his voice tinged with concern.

"Don't fall asleep on the soft sand," Byron's voice cuts through the darkness with a warning. "Scorpions come out at night."

Jack hesitates, then mutters, "Bloody’ell, mate. Maybe it’s not such a brilliant idea."

I stop in my tracks, anger boiling beneath the surface. As much as I hate to admit it, they might be right. But I won’t let them see that. Confident and cocky as ever, I turn back, rejoining the group with a defiant smirk.

"Changed your mind?" Eve asks, sarcasm dripping from her words.

I shrug nonchalantly. "Just don't feel like getting stung tonight. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to miss me too much." My tone is mocking, but inside, I seethe with frustration.

Mr. Coldwell steps between us, raising his hands. "Alright, can we just cool it? We’re stuck here together whether we like it or not. We need to focus on surviving, not tearing each other apart."

Eve huffs but doesn’t argue further, turning her gaze back to the dark jungle.

I take a deep breath, trying to push down my anger. "Fine, truce for now. But don’t expect me to play nice forever."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Eve mutters, but there's a hint of a smile on her lips.