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Subject: Don't come running to the rescue ;)


Author:
Jebar and Lucas
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Date Posted: 20:00:51 09/08/03 Mon
Author Host/IP: 66-50-91-209.prtc.net/66.50.91.209

Jebar sat by the campfire. He stared at the flames dancing in the darkness. Only an aching numbness filled his heart. He didn't care that nobody had eaten dinner except Namir, who had caught his own fish. Nobody spoke. Kairo's passing weighed heavy on everyone’s minds. Coolly, lethally, the blade that had killed his son gleamed in the fires light. Jebar stared at it, the anger building in his heart.

“I’ll get some more wood,” Lucas said interrupting the death like silence of the night falling around them. The sky, like their hearts was completely clouded over, and every once in a while a wind draft of the receding storm would chill their bodies as a constant reminder of the chaos of it’s passing. Sheets of cold rain began to fall as Lucas moved deeper into the surrounding foliage trying to scavenge what little dry or semidry wood he could find. He could feel Namir somewhere around him hunting for the night dwellers he knew to be there that for some reason, refused to sing on this forsaken night. A baleful blue moon parted through the cloud bands illuminating the pitch black of his surroundings, but it’s light was quick lived as another band of clouds soon replaced it’s guidance. Sighing inwardly, Lucas held his extinguishing torch in front of him and made his way deeper inland and farther from the sea.

Ironic, he thought sadly, that life giving sea can just as quickly chatter it…

The howl of the wind and waves died away with the flickers of the fire in their camp that was struggling to survive with the little wood it had, and he hurried away to find more.



The cold rain hitting his body went unfelt by Jebar. All he knew was the slow rage building deep within. It wasn't right. Why had the Captain killed his son? If it hadn’t been for Rico and Lt. Tates, Kairo would still be alive. It was their fault, with their stupid prank. If everyone had been able to fit into the proper lifeboats, then Kairo would still be alive. It wasn't fair. But he could make it fair. He continued to stare at the knife blade. When Lucas got up to get more firewood, he barely noticed. The rage continued to grow. No, the captain hadn’t done a mercy kill; he'd murdered his son. Unable to take it anymore, he leaped for the knife and roared his hatred at Captain McGreggor before attacking him. This man would die.



Lucas kneeled down to pick up a damp log he had identified in the near darkness and smiled. If this thing managed to catch fire, it would keep them semi warm most of the night and if the rain didn’t get any worse. He had already gathered enough of a load to got back to camp with so adding to it this final burden he turned to head back. He sensed around for his tiger, but couldn’t catch any noise that would betray it’s where about. Suddenly, another sound caught his ear…shouting. He furrowed his brow upon realizing that it was coming from their camp, now only visible as a distant speck of light against absolute darkness. Something was wrong.

Forgetting about the load of wood, he sprinted back towards the encampment A thousand horrible possibilities drifting through his mind.

What he saw there stopped his heart cold. The captain was fighting for his life while Jebar, in a mad rage, attacked him with the same knife that had ended his sons suffering. In his anger, Jebar was winning, and had already managed to stab the captain several times.

"Jebar! Ye've gone mad! Stop it!" The captain yelled, trying to avoid the knife, but slowed down with an injury to his thigh.

“Mr. Sorla!” Lucas yelled running toward the two men and managing to push Jebar away from Capt. McGreggor. “What in the blazes has gotten in you, man?!”

Jebar pushed himself up and leaped at Lucas. "He killed him!" Plunging the knife downwards, he went at Lucas too. Anyone who tried stopping him would meet the same fate.

Lucas clenched his jaw. What had come over the man? It was obvious he was being driven by extreme sorrow and hatred, but he had to get a hold of himself. He jumped out of the way of the incoming blade shoving McGreggor aside too in the process. The older man was limping and bleeding badly, he noticed with concern.
“Listen to me!” Lucas exclaimed. “This will achieve nothing! You have to get a grip on yourself! We’re all here together!”

“Not no more. Not when he killed Kairo. He doesn't care for us! He'd kill us too!" Jebar again leaped at Lucas. "Get outta here boy before I does the same to you."

“I can’t let you do this!” Lucas replied. His mind raced. He had no idea what was going to do.

The dark man plunged the knife into Lucas' leg, drawing blood. "Don't you stand in my way."

Lucas swore. “Goodness man! What get a hold of yourself! Are you trying to kill us all?” He tentatively tried his weight on his wounded leg only to discover it gave in under him almost making him loose balance. “Captain…” he whispered never taking his eyes from the other man. “Try to get to my pack; I have a revolver there. We can try to talk sense into him with it…”

Captain McGreggor nodded and slowly tried to make his way to the pack without drawing attention to himself. When Jebar heard about the revolver, he leaped at the pack, making it there first as the captain had already been critically injured. "Oh no... You killed my son. Now you gonna die too."

“Jebar!” Lucas called out. Forgetting his injured leg, he through himself on the darker man summoning all the strength he could muster to drive the weapon from him.

Jebar laughed madly and kept hold of the gun in one hand and the knife in the other. He fell back under Lucas' weight, his finger tightening on the trigger and firing the revolver. While Lucas grabbed for the gun, Jebar thrust the knife into his side.

Lucas’ eyes widened and he took a step backwards clutching his side with both his palms. A sharp pain streamed from his side to every corner of his body. For a moment, he felt dizzy. To his horror, he realized that he couldn’t breath. He collapsed to his knees and tried to heave in precious oxygen, but something was preventing the life air to reach his lungs. Violently, he began to cough the blood that was blocking the air passage. His vision blurred and focused at odd intervals as he tried to regain control of his body.

I warned you to get out of my way," Jebar growled. Turning his back on Lucas, he turned to the Captain. "You. You killed my son. Kairo was a good boy. He didn't deserve that. You promised we'd be safe on your ship! You no different than the slave owners." The hatred boiled up again as he raised the pistol, and shot it once, ending Captain Mark McGreggors life. He looked back at Lucas and reloaded the revolver.

Lucas glared at Jebar, but braced himself. “Not like this…” he muttered. “Never like this!”

Attracted by the noise and scent of blood, Namir ran onto the scene. The great cat leaped on Jebar, throwing off his aim and the bullet flew harmlessly into the air. The tiger roared and pawed the gun away from the human. He let Jebar up, but chased him away, then returned to Lucas.

Lucas smiled weakly at the big cat. “Good boy…” he whispered but realized he could no longer waste precious breath on idle talk. Wrapping an arm around Namir’s strong neck for support, he motioned for the tiger to help him into the shallows. The least he could do was wash his wounds from infections. Namir obeyed and gently, as if sensing his master’s pain, helped him to shore. After soaking for several minutes, he realized that is he didn’t stop the bleeding he was going to die from blood loss. Grabbing unto the cat’s neck again, he half dragged himself back to the dying fire and ripping a spare shirt from one of the abandoned packs, produced a rustic bandage for his side and leg. The pain was starting to be maddening, but he had to force himself to live through the night. He hadn’t survived countless safaris and a shipwreck to die like this, some how he was going to survive. He laid down by the fire to get what warmth he could and smiled thankfully as Namir sat down next to him blocking his body from the full blast of the elements. Somehow, he was going to make it.

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