Read Online The Island - Part 2 (Fallen Earth) by Michael Stark - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Stark
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had, raised the specter of the disease having one or more animal hosts.
And now on to other news.
Elsie reached over and turned the radio off, leaving the room locked in a stunned silence. I looked around. Every face bore signs of shock.
The tall blonde, whose name still escaped me, put her hand to her mouth.
“Oh my God! They’re eating each other.”
Denise, Joshua’s perennial ponytail girlfriend, shot her an irritated look.
“They? This isn’t a question of us and them. Everyone here could be in the same shape soon. Did you hear what the radio sai d? ‘One or more animal hosts’--that means we can’t avoid it, even out here. It’s not like we have to be around sick people to get sick. No one knows which animal either.”
She glanced at Devon.
“Feel like drinking a little untreated water now?”
His bony features turned pale.
“If we’re not getting off this island, then we have a lot of work to do,” she continued. “We need a place where we can isolate the sick, not only to keep the disease away from the rest of us, but to keep them away from the rest of us. We need a clean water supply. We need a sustainable food source. We need some kind of organization, and we need it soon.”
Joshua scratched at his growing beard.
“I still don’t think they’ll leave us out here,” he said slowly.
She glared at him.
“Then who is going to come get us, the government? The police? Santa Claus? They have a lot more to worry about than a handful of people stuck out on a deserted island.”
The girl turned on me. “What do you think, Mr. Hill?”
I looked at Elsie.
She smiled smugly.
“Yes, Hill William, what do you think?”
Frustration swelled inside. Not half an hour before, she had been pushing me to take a leading role. Now, she was trying to box me into it. I looked around at the individual faces. As young as they were, none lacked intelligence. I started to point out that fact and tell them they didn’t need my input to figure out what they should do. Somewhere in the mind walk of formulating the thought, the memory of the first time I’d gone sailing with my father surfaced. I hadn’t been s tupid either. What I had lacked was knowledge.
Dad had left me to steer while he went below to straighten out the gear and food. The task had seemed simple enough. Raise the sail, catch the wind, and drive. After ten minutes of making virtually no headway, I’d grown frustrated and called for him to come tell me what I was doing wrong.
He had stepped into the cockpit, looked up at the sails, looked back at the tiller and grinned. “You got her in irons.”
My father loved such moments. While the boat inched along as much sideways as forward and barely moving in either directi on, he had launched into a long-winded explanation of sail dynamics and the physics of wind.
He grin widened when he saw the confused look on my face.
“It’s simple, William. The wind is pushing her one way. The tiller is driving her back the other way. It’s like hitting the gas in a car with the parking brake engaged. Let off the tiller some and let her gain some headway.”
“But if I do that, we’ll go north, or at least north-east,” I had protested. “We need to go east.”
“Well, in figuring out how to get her going east, you’ll learn to sail,” he had said simply.
The memory faded. I looked up. Every eye in the building stared at me.
I gritted my teeth and nodded at Denise.
“I think you’re right,” I said, and then turned to Elsie. “And I think that was a dirty, underhanded move.”
She grinned. The rest looked confused.
I didn’t feel like explaining. Instead, I rose and stretched. The day had been long, and in many ways, taxing.
“I’m going to bed. Tomorrow morning, I’ll go down to get Zach. I’ll try and raise the Coast Guard, but I’m betting they’ll tell me to bury him here. Tyler will come with me,” I let the sentence trail off and waited for him to nod
And now on to other news.
Elsie reached over and turned the radio off, leaving the room locked in a stunned silence. I looked around. Every face bore signs of shock.
The tall blonde, whose name still escaped me, put her hand to her mouth.
“Oh my God! They’re eating each other.”
Denise, Joshua’s perennial ponytail girlfriend, shot her an irritated look.
“They? This isn’t a question of us and them. Everyone here could be in the same shape soon. Did you hear what the radio sai d? ‘One or more animal hosts’--that means we can’t avoid it, even out here. It’s not like we have to be around sick people to get sick. No one knows which animal either.”
She glanced at Devon.
“Feel like drinking a little untreated water now?”
His bony features turned pale.
“If we’re not getting off this island, then we have a lot of work to do,” she continued. “We need a place where we can isolate the sick, not only to keep the disease away from the rest of us, but to keep them away from the rest of us. We need a clean water supply. We need a sustainable food source. We need some kind of organization, and we need it soon.”
Joshua scratched at his growing beard.
“I still don’t think they’ll leave us out here,” he said slowly.
She glared at him.
“Then who is going to come get us, the government? The police? Santa Claus? They have a lot more to worry about than a handful of people stuck out on a deserted island.”
The girl turned on me. “What do you think, Mr. Hill?”
I looked at Elsie.
She smiled smugly.
“Yes, Hill William, what do you think?”
Frustration swelled inside. Not half an hour before, she had been pushing me to take a leading role. Now, she was trying to box me into it. I looked around at the individual faces. As young as they were, none lacked intelligence. I started to point out that fact and tell them they didn’t need my input to figure out what they should do. Somewhere in the mind walk of formulating the thought, the memory of the first time I’d gone sailing with my father surfaced. I hadn’t been s tupid either. What I had lacked was knowledge.
Dad had left me to steer while he went below to straighten out the gear and food. The task had seemed simple enough. Raise the sail, catch the wind, and drive. After ten minutes of making virtually no headway, I’d grown frustrated and called for him to come tell me what I was doing wrong.
He had stepped into the cockpit, looked up at the sails, looked back at the tiller and grinned. “You got her in irons.”
My father loved such moments. While the boat inched along as much sideways as forward and barely moving in either directi on, he had launched into a long-winded explanation of sail dynamics and the physics of wind.
He grin widened when he saw the confused look on my face.
“It’s simple, William. The wind is pushing her one way. The tiller is driving her back the other way. It’s like hitting the gas in a car with the parking brake engaged. Let off the tiller some and let her gain some headway.”
“But if I do that, we’ll go north, or at least north-east,” I had protested. “We need to go east.”
“Well, in figuring out how to get her going east, you’ll learn to sail,” he had said simply.
The memory faded. I looked up. Every eye in the building stared at me.
I gritted my teeth and nodded at Denise.
“I think you’re right,” I said, and then turned to Elsie. “And I think that was a dirty, underhanded move.”
She grinned. The rest looked confused.
I didn’t feel like explaining. Instead, I rose and stretched. The day had been long, and in many ways, taxing.
“I’m going to bed. Tomorrow morning, I’ll go down to get Zach. I’ll try and raise the Coast Guard, but I’m betting they’ll tell me to bury him here. Tyler will come with me,” I let the sentence trail off and waited for him to nod
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