Ralph extended onto the beach wherever the water meets the sand. Laying on the sand, Ralph closes his eyes and pray to God that something would save him, a ship, a plane, literally anything that would keep him out of this madness. He starts to open his eyes and looked up at a huge peaked cap. It was a white topped cap and on top of the inexperienced shade of the height was a crown. Ralph saw white drill, epaulettes, a revolver and many things.
A naval officer stood on the sand, looking down at Ralph in vary astonishment. Ralph looked at the officer with unequivocal worry and stood motionless on the hot sand. He wormed his way to the officer trying to get as close as he could to avoid Jack.
“Fun and games, so who’s in charge of this little war you having?” the officer asked with a laugh.
Ralph's eyes faltered, he instinctively reached for the creamy shell and his dry lips folded into a frown. Jack started forward.
“You’re talking too much,” he restored snapping at the officer.
He readies his spear with both hands and inched closer to Ralph. Jack’s tribe obeying their chief’s order, moved in toward Ralph as well, though reluctant and unable to look away from the officer while doing so.
“Now son, put down that spear okay?” the officer instructed.
The playful smile on the man’s face gradually melted away as he gathered the seriousness of the situation. Jack broke his eye contact with the officer, now only feet away from Ralph.
“Son, I’m not going to tell you again,” the officer ordered. Placing his hand on his revolver.
Ralph’s pupils expanded, his suity arms opened, attempting to leap for the officer. But just before he was able to plant his feet to spring forward, Jack reached for Ralph’s shoulder, pulling him backward by his clavicle. Jack raised his hand and angled his spear downward.
“I’m no thief!” Jack shouted.
Showing no hesitation and jamming the lethal end of his spear into Ralph’s chest with a force held bend on having the last word. Ralph yelled out an unearthly scream. His body crumbling into the sand. Blood spilled over Ralph’s ribs and onto the damp shore beneath his scraped bruised feet. As the spear tore through his flesh, a sudden power raced beneath Ralph’s immunity. His knee buckled and he spits up blood. He fell on his back launching himself into a coughing fit. Blood sprayed through his clenched teeth.
Sam and Eric ran to his side, bent down and supported his head with the palms of their hands. The twins took off their tattered shorts and used them to apply pressure to Ralph’s gaping wound.
It is clear that all life had resided in him had vanished. The one they had once called their leader, all passion, all hatred, all hope, motionless. His vacant eye starred up toward the location of the hiding sun which had failed on all accounts to fight it’s way through the veil black smoke that had now wholly encapsulated the perimeter of the island. The waves came forward and kissed Ralph’s legs and chest before receding, swallowing blood with each passing visit. This scene mirrored itself many times before Samneric finally curled up on either side of him and wrapped their tiny arms around his waist and as their bodies nestled into the sand together. They for the end of civility, the order loss of order and the descent to the shore of their wise selfless chief.
A sudden pulsing insulation crept beneath the ground surging toward the center of the spasming island and three energetic fireballs cracked and blew up, climbing up trees with impatient haste sprang upward in a seemingly choreographed succession and the flame screamed at the sky. All that could be seen was sand, fire and a screen of blackness. The ocean boiled silver and orange.
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