Twins of prey 1 3 the co.., p.42
Twins of Prey 1-3: The Complete Trilogy, page 42
Tomek smiled again through the pain of his damaged face. “Yup.”
The two of them began walking towards the cabin to survey the damage of the cockpit’s final landing site as Tomek added, “Yea, I had it in my pocket the whole time. The dumb shits never searched me.”
“You gave them the opportunity to search you?”
“I was tied up two times, stabbed, burnt, hit, cut, and bit. I was fully tortured, actually. All while you were up there trying to burn snakes, so don’t give me any shit,” Tomek said, defending himself.
Drake yawned, “Whatever.” He then stretched his arms over his head with an even larger yawn, asking, “Now what?
“I need you to take a look at my foot, It is going to need to be stitched up,” Tomek said.
Drake shook his head. “No way, man. That’s going to need to be cauterized.”
“You are not getting anywhere near my body with fire right now,” said Tomek. “I think stiches and some antibiotic cream will do just fine.”
“We don’t have those kinds of supplies,” Drake reminded him.
“Sure do. Took about four or five different med kits off the helicopter when I was tying the grenade on the landing rail.”
“Where are they?” Drake asked.
Tomek motioned over behind them to their left. “Back behind that metal rail on the side of the garden. That’s where I anchored the spool of fishing line.”
This time it was Drake that was smiling. “You took down a helicopter with a grenade and some fishing line. Unreal, man. Unreal.”
“Hey, I knew it would work, dammit. It was fourteen pound test, after all,” Tomek said, laughing.
His brother’s response again made him shrug his shoulders while shaking his head. “Well, you just have an answer for everything, don’t you?”
24 Morning
As the sun rose over the east edge of the lake-bowl, rock-wall ledge, Tomek sat in the small cabin’s living room. Admiring the stitching on his foot, courtesy of Drake, he winced as his feet hit the cold floor. With all that had happened to them in just a few short days on the island, their time in Pine Run seemed like years ago. Drake heard Tomek rustling and hopping around as he exited from the back bedroom.
“I love the smell of charred remains in the morning,” Drake joked, referencing their late-night activity of adding Garran, Ricardo, and Greggor’s bodies to the blaze that had already contained Tony. Their final resting place would be the same as the helicopter’s final, crash landing spot on a large patch of sand near the lake.
“How’s the foot?” he asked, knowing that his suture skills were in need of improvement.
Tomek held his foot up to show Drake his work of art. “Looks like a laced up hockey skate, but it will do.”
Drake agreed. “Throw a thick sock on, and let’s take a look around. By the way, if you are worried about how your foot looks, don’t look in the mirror.”
Tomek knew that the branding on his face would eventually scar over and was not worried in regards to his vanity at all. Aside from the pain in his foot slowing him down, Tomek was eager to take the suggestion of his twin and go for a post-fire exploration of their island. From what they could tell, the fire on the upper island had burned all night, although the wind had died down at some point.
The helicopter’s fire was at first intense, with the jet fuel making for a quick, crematory process. Once most of it had been consumed, only the fire retardant seat cushions and body of the aircraft remained as a charred, skeletal reminder of the insanity that had ensued the night before.
Stepping out onto the porch, they watched as a few trout fed on the early morning bugs that skidded across the glass-like water. Looking around, they shuffled through the remaining gear bags on the porch. Guns, ammo, axes, a few very nice knives, and fresh razor broadhead tipped arrows rounded out their newfound weapons cache, thanks to the Barr and Stratton families. Other than weapons, the hunters also provided enough MREs to last the twins almost a full year.
Both twins geared up, loading their newfound shotguns, along with a few favored pistols. There would be a time that they would return to life with the simplicity of bows and arrows, but for now, they were unsure of what to expect after climbing the steps.
The steps were daunting for Tomek as he labored up each one slowly and in pain. Grimacing with each step, he was relieved as they opened the top door. Tomek plopped himself down on a small patch of unburnt grass to give his foot a rest as Drake pushed the heavy, stairwell door closed, securing it behind him.
Both of the twins were pleasantly surprised at the condition of the fire-swept island. From their vantage point, it was clear to see that, while the meadow grasslands had been destroyed, the blaze was unable to survive in the swampland without the aid of the strong winds. The fern valley remained hidden by the large, unfazed section of hardwood. A few mature trees showed signs of heat stress, with wilted leaves up their sides, edging the swamp, but otherwise, they remained standing. The twins felt confident each limb would return to life in the following spring.
“Where to?” Drake asked, helping Tomek up to his feet.
Tomek didn’t answer him. He just began to walk slowly, attempting not to put pressure on his injured foot. Drake followed behind Tomek as he headed west towards the one tree on the rock ledge that had survived the meadow’s fire. It took longer than he had expected to traverse over the charcoaled ground that had been burnt down to the dirt, but standing at the tree somehow felt like an accomplishment of sorts.
The waves crashed into the jagged rocks below, where just days before Tomek had run the gauntlet against a lion and won.
“You know, if you don’t turn around and look at the scorch behind us, this really is a beautiful place,” said Drake, taking in the moment of tranquility.
Tomek turned around and leaned against the tree, using it as a crutch and taking in a deep breath. “It’s all beautiful,” he replied, centering his spine on the trunk of the tree.
The tree had survived the fire and now stood as a visual marker for that side of the island. The lone tree was almost poetic in nature. Out of the ashes, growth will arise in the shadow of this survivor.
However, as strong as the tree appeared to be, the fire had taken an unseen toll. The weakened roots lurched forward, snapping under Tomek’s minuscule body weight, and the tree quickly began its descent over the island’s edge and down to the deadly rocks below. The top-heavy lumber pulled the roots up and out of the ground with a whiplash-like effect, throwing Tomek from the trunk. As Tomek began to stumble towards the edge, off balance, out of control, and unable to use his hurt foot, he looked at Drake in panic.
Drake saw the fear in his brother’s eyes and sprinted towards him. As slow as a tree that size would take to grow, ripping from the earth and falling in devastation spanned only mere seconds. These seconds were all that Ascension Island needed to claim Tomek’s soul, fittingly vanquishing him in the same manner it did the lion.
Drake’s hands grasped Tomek’s coat. The gripping motion caused Tomek’s forward momentum to spin, resulting in this right arm being stripped out of the jacket as his body continued toward the edge. Drake held the empty sleeve of the denim coat and pulled with all his might backwards in a jerking motion as he fell to the ground.
Tomek’s left arm had remained tight in the jacket, and Drake’s forceful yank had stopped the island’s intentions of killing his twin, bringing him back onto solid land, where he landed on his stomach. Tomek’s face was flat against the soot-laden path. Pushing himself up, he looked at Drake and got to his feet.
Tomek looked around, and Drake noticed the panic in his brother’s eyes had been replaced with an intense focus. Tomek stepped forward to the edge, looking out over the blue waters of Lake Michigan below him, and triumphantly yelled, while beating a closed fist upon his chest, “This is my island. This is my prison. This is my home. I will protect it. I am the snake, not the mouse.”
The End
Thank you for reading the Twins of Prey series.
I hope my Uncle is proud.
W.C. Hoffman
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About the Author
W.C. Hoffman is a lifelong resident of Michigan.
If you took a guy who loves to hunt and fish, and then made him a professional magician with a decade-long career in law enforcement who also enjoys his work as an ordained wedding officiant, you would have W.C. Hoffman.
A loving husband and father of two, his writing utilizes the outdoors knowledge he has gained over the years he has spent chasing game in the wildest areas of North America. Hoffman's unique life-skills are often evident in his novels.
W.C. Hoffman, Twins of Prey 1-3: The Complete Trilogy
