Island Thunder (m/f/f, war, epic)

[Viridian]

Island Thunder
By Viridian

It was hard for me to take my eyes off Aurelia. I had a good view of the pool she was bathing in, naked with her back to me. Her long golden hair matched her beautiful tanned skin. She covered her body modestly as she cleaned the grime off her skin. Turning slightly, I could make out the shape of her round, full breasts. I felt guilty for looking.

Overhead, the sky was growing cloudy. A storm was approaching. It would make our journey challenging, to say the least. I scanned the surroundings, noting every tree and bush in sight. I was getting paranoid. I hadn’t slept well for days. My eyes were growing heavy. I needed a walk to freshen up. I got up and paced around, deciding to go on a patrol around the lake.

I didn’t need to go far before hearing heavy footsteps and murmuring. I ducked into the nearest cover – a ditch between two shrubs – and observed. It was an enemy patrol – six men in total. All of them were wearing camouflage and were heavily armed, though their casual manner indicated that they were less experienced paramilitary personnel. Nonetheless, I readied my rifle and aimed it in their direction.

In a moment of irony, I recall the words of my father instructing me on firearm safety: don’t aim the weapon at something unless you intend to destroy it. There was something bitter about what I had to do. I was, however, prudent enough not to initiate an attack on a patrol by myself. Any closer, however, and I might not have a choice. I kept a finger on the safety. Whether by coincidence or providence, the patrol veered off, disappearing into the jungle vegetation from whence they came. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I returned to the pool to find Aurelia already dressed, though she didn’t have much to begin with. Her tank top clung against her breasts and exposed her midriff, while her lower body was scantily covered by a shirt that functioned as a makeshift skirt, though by now it was torn and tattered; the fabric barely covering a few inches below her crotch.

“Everything alright, Max?” she asked, looking at me with concern.

I couldn’t tell her.

* * *

I first met Aurelia when I was in 7th grade. She was five years older than me and was a friend of my sister. One day I walked into my sister’s room to get her to run an errand. Unknown to me, they were both in the middle of getting changed. My eyes were immediately drawn to the tall, toned figure of the senior girl, wearing nothing but a lacy black bra. That image was burned into my mind, along with the nosebleed that followed, caused by a brush thrown viciously at my face by my topless sister. Aurelia was in my mind for much of my teenage years, though I never saw her again. My parents divorced soon after and my dad took me interstate. He had fallen into hard times ever my brother was killed in Iraq, though he always thought highly of him for joining the Marines. His drunken conversations revolved around his sacrifice while slamming me for being a wimpy little kid who loved books more than being a man. He taught me to shoot, but that was the only thing we enjoyed doing together.

In my third year of college, I was chosen to go on a scholarship program. Several universities joined together to form a one-off research trip to an island off Thailand, and uniquely it was open for people from any discipline. I was talked into applying for it by my lecturer. I didn’t think my studies in fiction writing would compete with the scientists that the program was aimed for, but somehow I got it. Next thing I knew, I was on a plane to Bangkok, followed by a two-hour boat trip. There were around thirty of us. They were all cool people, and despite the purpose of our trip there was a holiday mood. The girls were openly wearing bikinis on the boat and were working on their tans while the guys were already breaking out the beer.

That’s when I saw her again, lying on a deckchair on her stomach with her bikini top undone. A guy was giving her a massage and rubbing oil onto her skin.

I vanished back inside the boat. My heart was pounding ferociously. I knew it was Aurelia, even though I hadn’t seen her for nearly ten years. How old was she now? Twenty eight? She had grown well, her beauty even more alluring than the glimpse I got of her in my sister’s room all those years ago. I don’t know if she remembered me.

The island was moderate in size, covered by lush jungle. It was virtually untouched – there was no human settlement on the island. There was a lighthouse and a pier, but nothing else. Certainly it was no place for tourists – we had been warned that the jungle could be harsh and unforgiving, and that this was no mere field trip. We set up a campsite and slept in large tents. Due to space limitations, I was assigned the tent shared by the lecturers. I didn’t mind too much – the men were interesting to chat with and the women were smart and rather attractive. One of them, Tara Anderson, was a Masters student in sociology. She was friendly and open, feeling quite comfortable sitting in the tent in a sports bra and shorts. She reminded me of Lara Croft for some reason, maybe because of her accent and politeness.

One of interesting things about being in the tent belonging to the head honchos was that I overheard a lot of conversations about the program, notably how unorganised it was and how underfunded they were. The first weeks of our stay showed that. There wasn’t any formal structure, and no one knew much about the island. Most of our time was spent exploring the island. There was plenty of opportunity for people to apply their field expertise. Biologists were in a candy-store realm of their own. Photography students were trigger-happy and even Tara found something to investigate with rumours of a lost tribe. I spent most of my time following Tara, who never tired of sharing her research and excitement. She would occasionally go off on solo expeditions, returning every few days to replenish her supplies from the main camp. She didn’t say why she went off. I presumed it had something to do with her lost tribe research.

My other guess would be that she preferred to keep her distance from the group. There was enough drama at the camp as it was. A couple of juniors had gotten drunk and slept together – without protection. There was a bitter taste in the camp, with the group splintering into cliques like a reality show. The guys took to the bottle while the girls lay around and sunbathed. The lecturers were throwing their arms in the air in resignation, clueless over how to get the group to be productive.

I sought permission for my own solo expedition. I would’ve liked to go with Tara, who was more experienced, but she was already gone. The professors were concerned about letting a student go off on their own for more than a day, but they were also excited over the prospect of someone actually doing something other than bumming around. I got a consignment of equipment and supplies, and I was hurried off to do whatever I wanted to do.

I was only gone for one day.

* * *

I found a nice spot by a small lake. It was surrounded by cliffs and was only accessible through steep path that involved a bit of climbing. The area was shady and isolated from the rest of the island. I set up my camp there, leaving most of my equipment. For the first time, I was finding a sense of purpose on the island. I heard about authors who could only write when they were in a particular location. This was it for me. Already, I was feeling the energy of the forest filling my veins. There was something spiritual about this place.

The island also had a hidden nature. As I was exploring more of my temporary home, I stumbled into a clearing that, as I later discovered, was actually quicksand. The entire sandy opening moved violently as I plunged to my waist, closing around my legs with vicious intent. The sand held me down like cement, preventing me from making any movement from the waist down. Realising my predicament, I removed my pack and tossed aside. The quicksand, however, was working quickly to devour me, pulling me down to my chest. I was too far to reach anything. The quicksand was soft and didn’t put much pressure on me, but at the same time there was nothing keeping me up, resulting in me bobbing up and down helplessly in the unstable clearing. I shouted for help, unsure whether anyone could hear me.

Soon enough, Tara appeared. She was wearing a black sports bra and cotton shorts. She was as surprised to see me as I was to see her.

“Don’t move,” she instructed sternly. “You’ll make it worse.”

Tara looked around for something to reach me. Despite being in the middle of the jungle, the only thing that was of any use was a leafy shrub growing by the clearing. Tara removed her shoes and stepped gingerly into the quicksand, sinking immediately to her thighs. She waded out carefully, holding onto the shrub for some tentative support. The quicksand wasn’t as unstable where she was, allowing her to remain steady enough to reach out for me. However, even at full stretch, our hands were just short of each other. Tara grunted. Her midriff began slipping into the quicksand at a fast rate. She scoffed at herself for not looking for something longer.

“You’ll get stuck,” I warned her.

“Don’t worry,” she replied. She let go of the shrub and pulled off her sports bra, revealing her firm breasts. Her nipples were noticeably through the fabric, and now were clear as day. Without saying anything, she used the bra to reach out. I grabbed it and felt Tara straining to pull me closer. Fortunately the quicksand offered little resistance. I slid through the bog easily, letting go of the bra and grabbing Tara’s hand.

“Oh god,” she gasped as the quicksand closed over her bare chest.

Tara focused on me again and pulled me towards her. The shrub held firmly. Wriggling backwards, Tara worked us slowly to where we could reach solid ground and pull ourselves to safety. She helped me out first. I returned the favour by pulling her out. As she emerged, her shorts slid down her toned legs and got caught around her ankles. She hastily grabbed them and pulled them up as soon as she was out. Her bra, on the other hand, was half-buried in the middle of the clearing.

“Thanks,” I said. “And, um, sorry about your…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tara dismissed, covering her chest modestly. Feeling awkward, I took off my shirt and gave it to her. Since it was quite muddy she chose not to put it on; instead holding it against her chest. In return for her rescue, I showed her the way to my campsite and the pool, where we cleaned up.

We shared dinner later that night. We had plenty of military-style meals-ready-to-eat. We chatted about the group and the project as we at through wheat bread and pound cake.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” I said during our conversation, “what were you doing when you found me?”

Tara looked reluctant to tell. She was wearing one of my t-shirts, which was a bit too large. She wore nothing underneath, as her shorts were still drying. The normally friendly and confident research student suddenly looked vulnerable and threatened.

“If I tell you,” she began, “promise not to tell anyone else, okay?”

I nodded.

“I found a few relics,” she explained. “Some sort of amulet. I uncovered part of what may be a temple of sorts. My notes told me that the tribe that lived her believed in the earth goddess. They had a strong connection between fertility of their women and the earth. The rest is lost, but I was fascinating by the amulets.” She reached down the shirt to pull out the stone amulet she wore around her neck. “Ever since I started wearing this, I’ve been feeling…different. It’s having an effect on me. I feel more connected to nature. I can sense where things are and what’s happening.”

“Sounds too good,” I joked. “Soon you’ll be a superhero.”

“There’s something else…”

There was a short moment of silence.

“Part of my studies show that the tribe had a ritual for young women. On their birthdays, they would give themselves up to the earth, where they would join as one to bring fertility to each other. In other words, the quicksand on the island – and there is lots of it – was an altar. The thing is, from what I understand, it’s meant to be a sexual experience – at least in our understanding.” Tara shifted uneasily. “I’ve been getting off on quicksand.”

I blinked. “Come again?”

“I don’t want to say it again. I’ve been exploring the island looking for the quicksand pits the maidens sank themselves in and I’ve felt…” She didn’t end her sentence. “Just don’t tell anyone at the camp, alright?”

“Is that why you’ve been going out alone?”

She nodded. I looked at the piece of pound cake I had been holding for the last fifteen minutes before placing it back into the bag. “I’ve got no reason to tell anyone. You saved me after all.”

Tara suddenly forward and placed her hands around my head, forcing her lips onto mine. I’ve never kissed a girl before, and I was overwhelmed by the passion she placed upon me. She released me moments later and looked into my eyes. “Thank you.”

I couldn’t sleep that night. Tara was fast asleep beside me, her leg hitched over my body out of habit; her head snuggling into my neck. I didn’t want to disturb her sleep.

* * *

Tara was gone when I woke up. She had taken her clothing along with my shirt, and a few rations. I assumed that she needed them for herself rather than out of selfishness, and I did owe her. It did, however, leave me a bit short. Since I was only an hour’s walk from the main camp, I decided to take what I had and trek back to see how the others were going.

I was horrified to learn what happened when I was gone.

When I reached the outskirts of the camp, instead of seeing the students or the professors, there were men walking around – with guns. Dressed in camouflaged fatigues, they were busy carrying crates and bags, walking in and out of the tents and removing personal items. I instinctively moved into the dense vegetation to observe what was going on. These men were clearly looting our campsite. Who were they and where did they come from? From their rugged appearance, these were hardened veterans and didn’t look like the sort you could walk up to and ask.

Suddenly I spotted someone I recognised. A chubby middle-aged man with a thick moustache, I remembered him as the captain of the boat that took us to the island. He was walking freely among the soldiers, pointing at anything of interest and ordering them around. What was his part in this?

I felt uneasy about approaching the camp, but I could not ascertain anything else from my position. The chance arrived when the captain gathered his men and marched off with armfuls of supplies. I waited for a minutes to make sure there were no stragglers before moving in.

The looters had stripped the campsite of everything of worth. Clothing, food, medical supplies and electronics were all gone. I ventured into the tents to find everything thrown about. There was no sign of a struggle; like how a house is left when it’s burgled without violent entry. The professor’s tent was also empty. I could find no answers to the questions I found myself asking over and over.

My search was interrupted by a shriek. It was a girl’s voice. I listened carefully. There was a moan accompanied by some murmurs and a male shout. I left the campsite and moved quietly into the forest, edging through the dense undergrowth with caution. Before long, I came upon a sight that shocked me beyond anything I had seen so far.

There were two soldiers. On the ground was a girl – stripped naked and limp. One of the soldiers had his pants down; his fully erect penis being stroked and licked by another girl. He grasped her head and forced her to suck his dick, shouting in another language as he was being pleasured. The girl broke free for a gasp of air; her face and chest covered in cum. I got a glance of her.

Aurelia.

In that one moment, I felt a rage I had never felt before. It was burning; crawling from my stomach and spreading into my limbs. My breathing deepened. Rage. Something inside of me broke in that moment. I don’t remember much of what transpired; nor do I want to remember clearly. I walked towards the soldiers. The closer one was sitting with his zip open and his hand busily jerking off. He didn’t notice my approach until I was right on top of him. His pistol was on the ground beside him. Realising my presence, he reached towards with his sticky hand. He fumbled and stopped short. My boot crunched onto his hand. He yanked his arm back, but the weight intensified. I could hear the bones of his fingers snap.

The rest of my movements felt automatic. I stooped down to pick up the pistol. I cycled the weapon, found it still loaded, and aim at the man’s crotch. I fired a shot.

The other soldier shoved Aurelia away, but tripped over his own pants. As he sprawled over the ground, I pointed the gun towards him and pulled the trigger – two, three, four times. He didn’t make a sound. The screams I could now hear came from behind. The first soldier, clutching his mutilated manhood, was silenced by a round in the skull.

The other girl was dead. Looking over head body, I felt that justice had been delivered. I dropped the pistol and picked up an assault rifle belonging to one of the soldiers. I lifted Aurelia to her feet, grabbed what was left of the girls’ clothing and led her away. Whoever, they were, the soldiers would soon find out that they could not take whatever they wanted. This was the line in the sand.

* * *

I was startled awake. Aurelia knelt above me with her hand gently on my shoulder.

“Everything alright. Max?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I think I fell asleep.”

“You should keep sleeping,” she said. “You look terrible.”

I felt terrible too. The idea of me murdering two people was catching up on me. I didn’t know what came over me, or how I knew what to do. There was a bitter aftertaste in my mouth, like blood. Aurelia took hold my hand and pressed it against her breast. I could feel her warm body and the softness of her buxom.

“Max, I want to pay you back for…saving me from those men…”

I pulled my hand away. She didn’t understand. I couldn’t tell her how I felt. How could you tell someone who you had a crush on for all of your life that you had to kill to stop them from raping her? I looked away. I felt like I had to break something. The rage was coming back. I had to take my mine off it.

“Who were those men?” I finally blurted.

It was a question that Aurelia couldn’t answer. “I don’t know. They just came out of nowhere. They waved guns around and shouted at us. They took everyone away, except me and Liz. Oh god, they…they raped Liz, and then they killed her. Then they were going to…”

“Do the same to you,” I finished.

She nodded.

“Do you know where they took the others?” I asked.

Aurelia didn’t know. The lack of information bothered me, and the prospect of searching the whole island was daunting. My mind worked through the options quickly. There we were only two of us, and there seemed to be many soldiers roaming the supposed deserted island. We needed to get in touch with any survivors of the raid. There had to be someone else who wasn’t captured. I knew who it was. I stood up and prepared to leave.

“Where are we going?” asked Aurelia.

“You know Tara? The Masters student? She has a camp nearby. I ran into her yesterday. If we can find her, we’ve got more of a chance to find the others.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“No. We’re going to look for her the hard way.”

We packed enough food to last us for a few days. I carried my gear in my backpack. I gave Aurelia my shoulder bag; the strap pressing between her breasts. Fortunately she had a decent pair of boots on, though it was more for fashion than for practical hiking. Though I didn’t know exactly where to go, I led the way. I was, after all, the only one armed with a weapon. I checked behind frequently to see how Aurelia was managing. Each time I look, I couldn’t help but notice her breasts bouncing each step; unsupported by her tank top. There was another crack of thunder. I hoped to find shelter before it hit us. I wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of navigating the island in the middle of a monsoon.

Despite our need for haste, I moved cautiously. My instincts paid off – I halted our march and knelt down. I edged forward alone, peering through the small gaps in the vegetation until my suspicions were confirmed. The patrol was still there. Aurelia joined me and I pointed them out to her.

“This makes things harder,” I whispered. “They’re taking the easiest route. We’ll need to find another way through the jungle.”

“Why don’t you just shoot them?” Aurelia asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t want to kill anyone I don’t have to kill. We don’t know who these people are.”

“You killed the two before.”

“That was different. Besides,” I said, changing the topic, “we don’t know how many of them are around. Attacking them would only draw attention to us.”

Our new path took us to lower ground, which presented two big problems. The first was that the ground consisted of deep mud – thigh-deep in some areas, which made our trek much slower. The second was my concern that the area would flood if the rains came. Fortunately we only had to trudge a short distance. We got ourselves to a steep ledge. I gave Aurelia a boost out, unavoidably touching her bare ass. She made a snide comment under her breath before giving me a hand up. We continued our walk, still with no clear idea of where we were going.

I called another halt soon after. Again I instructed Aurelia to move behind while I scouted ahead. Moving carefully through the vegetation to avoid making too much noise, I paused to scan the surroundings. The usual trees and bushes dominated the jungle, with sparse clearings here and there. I could hear a faint moan. My ears were adapting quickly to the ambient noise in the jungle, enough to pick out that human sign. There was a small rock formation that would make good cover while also providing a vantage point. Careful not to expose myself, I position myself so that I could get a better view of the lower ground. I shouldn’t have been surprised at what I saw, but I was.

About a hundred metres away was a small muddy clearing. In the middle, up to her chest, was Tara. She was naked as far as I could tell, moving gently and running her hands over her breasts. I could just make out the stone amulet that she wore around her neck. No doubt she was quite immersed in her self-pleasure, giving in to the desires she wanted me to keep secret.

Her moans, however, drew more than my attention. The patrol suddenly appeared on the other side of the mud pit. They fanned out into a looser formation to investigate the noise. I watched as they began to surround Tara. Suddenly, I came to realisation Tara – partially submerged in the bog – had no chance of escape. I had to act.

I had the element of surprise, but it was one against six. Thankfully, years at the range honed my ability to gauge distance. I made plan in my head: open fire on the first soldiers to appear the clearing; fire at the other targets for light suppression and move and fire around the edge of the clearing, bounding from tree to tree. The jungle foliage was enough to conceal my shape. I felt nervous, and quite unsure of myself. These guys were probably well-trained and accustomed to battle. One college student with a gun probably wasn’t going to scare them off.

The first two soldiers never had a chance to be scared. Just as they pointed their guns at Tara, I squeezed two shots at each of them. My aim was spot-on; the shots hitting them squarely in the chest. When they fell, I swung the rifle towards the other soldiers, who were in a state of confusion. One of them shouted at the others to take cover. He exposed himself to locate the threat. I squeezed off three more rounds before shifting to the other side of the rock. I fired and began moving along my planned angle of attack. I kept the rifle on single-shot, firing two shots every second step. I sprinted across the next stretch, hearing the whiz of bullets flying in my direction. They couldn’t get a bead on me through the foliage. At the same time, a soldier sidestepped across my path, facing the rock pile. I dispatched him with three shots. Keeping my stance low and steady, I swept through the clearing’s edge. I saw the shape of one target behind a small tree, which proved too narrow to stop the rifle rounds that drilled through, dropping him instantly.

The last man did a runner. He dropped his weapon and tore through the jungle like the devil was after him. I had run out of ammo and couldn’t pursue him. Instead, I ran to where Tara was. She was noticeably pale. She had planned ahead for her solitary activity, having tied a rope to a nearby tree, which she was now using to pull herself out. I gave her a hand, sliding her mud-covered body onto dry land.

“We’re even,” I said nonchalantly.

“What’s going on?” Tara asked shakily.

“Tell you later. We need to get out of here fast.”

Aurelia came running to while Tara was putting her clothes on. She looked at the semi-naked Tara, and then at the carnage I left in my wake.

“What the hell happened?” she demanded.

I was busy scrounging through the bodies, picking up more ammunition. One of the first men I shot was apparently the leader of the patrol, based on the documents he was carrying. It also explained why the patrol’s cohesion dissipated as soon as I dropped him. The most valuable thing I found was a map with pencil scribbles over it. I pocketed it along with a notebook I found on the other dead solider. Tara came back wearing a sleeveless khaki blouse and shorts. She picked up a pistol from one of the soldiers.

“You know how to use that?” I asked.

“Dad taught me how to shoot,” she replied, reinforcing her action-girl image. That left Aurelia unarmed. She objected to the violence and didn’t know how to use a gun in any case, so it was better that she didn’t have one.

“There were six of them,” I said. “One of them ran off. He’ll probably alert the others.”

“What if he’s the only one left?” Aurelia asked, raising a good point. “He’s probably pissing himself right now.”

“Maybe, but we can’t rule out that there are others. You saw how many were at the camp.”

“Anyone mind filling me in?” Tara interrupted.

Thunder cracked once more, this time followed by the heavy sound of rainfall. We got ourselves moving at a quick pace, finding a rocky cave nearby. I was concerned about not making enough distance from our point of contact, but torrent that followed changed my opinion. I was glad to be out of the rain.

* * *

We went through the events that had unfolded while sharing a meal. Tara listened intently, not showing any surprise as we told her about the raid on the camp. The storm continued outside the cave, preventing us from leaving. We used the time to examine the items we found. The map proved quite interesting, with several points labelled throughout the island.

“They look like bases,” said Aurelia. “That’s probably where they’re holding the others. But which one is the right one? I can’t read this language.”

“We need to be realistic,” said Tara. “We’re unlikely to rescue the others by ourselves.”

“What do you mean?”

Tara was flipping through the notepad. “There are probably a hundred of them.”

“A hundred?” I asked. “How? Isn’t this island deserted?”

“Apparently not, judging by what’s in here.” She turned the pages for us to see, showing sketches, maps and even photographs. The images contained feature that matched the island, but contained a lot of things that weren’t native to the island – namely machine guns and motor boats. Tara continued to explain. “I’ve studied about this group before. They form a liberation front of sorts, fighting for freedom from the Thai government. Most of the time they work as pirates, attacking freighters and seizing cargo, which they sell back to the government. The government can’t do anything about them, seeing how they’ve got their own crises at hand, but they don’t want to look embarrassed by the control the liberation front has on the waterways. From the looks of things, they use this island as a home base. We happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” I said, taking in her explanation. “Do you remember the captain of our boat? He was among the soldiers too. He looked like he was in command.”

“What are you saying?” said Aurelia.

“I think he might be part of the liberation front. He spoke the same language and was on their side. If I had to guess, I think he was in on it all along. He probably set up the journey and our expedition as a cover for bringing supplies to the island base. At the same time, the front would score a bunch of hostages they could use as bargaining chips, if what Tara says is true.”

Tara nodded. “It makes sense.”

“But,” Aurelia began. “We know who they are, but about what they’re claiming to be? I mean, yeah, you can fight for freedom and recognition, but why are these people here? There’s nothing on this island. They’re not developing it or building mines or chopping trees down. There’s no way they can sustain a nation on this one island.”

“I think I know the answer to that,” said Tara. “They’ve always been here.”

Aurelia and I looked at her in disbelief. Tara turned the notepad to show us a sketch. It appeared to be a logo, probably the symbol of the liberation front. “Max, do you recognise this?” Tara asked.

My eyes gazed at the page. I couldn’t initially identify it. Then I looked past the notepad towards Tara. It hit me.

“The amulet.”

“Bingo.” She pulled out the stone amulet she wore around her neck. “Same design. I think we’ve found the lost tribe, and they’re here to preserve their old life and old beliefs…only with modern tools and weapons.”

“And they don’t seem happy about being found,” Aurelia commented.

“That’s why I said it’s unlikely for us to mount a rescue operation on our own,” said Tara. “We’ll need to get help.”

“But who?” I asked. “You just said the Thai government won’t do anything.”

“Other governments will,” said Tara. “We’re foreigners, and that means we’re protected by our home countries. They’ll respond and rescue everyone.”

“And how do we get help?” asked Aurelia.

“By getting off this island.”

“How?” Aurelia and I said in unison.

“Infiltrate their base, steal one of their boats, and make a dash for the mainland.”

There was silence. “That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard,” said Aurelia. “This isn’t a movie!”

“Do you have a better idea?” Tara argued back. “Do you want to be Rambo and take on the front by yourself? You don’t even know how to use a gun!”

“I never said that!” Aurelia shouted back. “It’s just wrong to leave everyone behind just so we can save ourselves.”

“If we save ourselves, we can save everyone else. We can’t do everything. Sometimes people have to be left behind.”

“I won’t accept that!”

“Ladies, please,” I said, trying to calm them down. “Shout any louder and the front will find us soon enough.”

It was dark by the time things were settled. We all went to sleep uncomfortably; the rocky bed being the least of our discomforts.

* * *

In the morning, I elected to gowith Tara’s plan. Aurelia agreed begrudgingly, but we couldn’t convince her of the prudence in our course of action. After sharing another meal-ready-to-eat and equipped with a reasonably accurate map, we set off for one of the locations we assumed was a base. On the way, we went through Tara’s campsite. The soldiers had come across it first, taking everything they found useful, including her tent. Concerned that the campsite was now compromised, I urged Tara to move on.

We trekked over a rise in the terrain, for the first time catching sight of the open sea. Aurelia spotted something and pointed our attention to it.

“It’s a lighthouse!” she said, identifying the tall grey tower by the coast.

“What good is that going to do for us?” Tara snapped.

Aurelia was thinking quickly. “Lighthouses have radios, right? We could tune into the emergency frequency and call for help.”

“That’s crazy,” said Tara.

“And stealing an enemy boat isn’t?”

“Max, you tell her,” Tara sulked.

“Actually,” I said, “Aurelia has a point. It’s a lot safer to make a radio transmission than to assault a base.”

Tara rolled her eyes. “Okay, majority rules. I hope you guys know what you’re doing.”

We made a beeline to the lighthouse without encountering any opposition. For all we knew, the lighthouse was old and abandoned. It began to occur to me that the lighthouse might not have anything we need. Despite its derelict state, the lighthouse wasn’t boarded up. The door was locked, but a sharp kick sent the old wood swinging open. The smell of decades of dust greeted us. We found the radio room and, against likelihood, found it in working order, albeit looking worse for wear. Aurelia fiddled around with the dials.

“How do you know all this?” I asked her.

“My dad collected old radio sets,” she replied. “When I was a kid I used to love playing around with them. I actually did a course run by the coast guard on how to use them.”

“Lucky us,” Tara commented.

Aurelia ignored her and spoke into the radio. “SOS. SOS. Can anyone read? Over.” The radio replied with static. She repeated her call.

“Why doesn’t anyone respond?” asked Tara.

“I’m using the emergency frequency. It’ll get picked up by anyone who is tuned into it. Usually there’s someone listening out for emergency calls, but they have to be in range. There’s probably no one in our vicinity.”

“Or maybe the antenna’s out of action,” I added.

The radio suddenly cackled. “This is the USS John S. McCain, copying SOS message. Please identify. Over.”

“Holy shit,” Tara whispered. “What are the chances of that?”

Aurelia was busy on the radio, relating details of our expedition and the presence of the liberation front on the island. It wasn’t the conventional sort of SOS one might receive. From what I gathered, the US frigate was escorting merchant vessels and hunting pirates. If there was any chance of a rescue, this was it.

“USS John S. McCain to Aurelia, are you a naval vessel?”

“No, we’re a lighthouse.”

I burst out laughing. Tara looked at me strangely. “Old joke,” I explained.

As exciting as the dialogue was, it was getting stuffy in the unventilated room. I took a step outside for some fresh air. The sky was still overcast, showing the probability of more rain. My break was interrupted by a shout coming down the path. I looked to see another patrol scurrying towards the lighthouse. I swore and ran back inside.

“Guys, we’ve got trouble,” I cried.

“They must’ve picked up our radio signal,” said Tara. “Of course! How could we be so stupid?”

As the door had already been kicked down, we did our best to barricade it with whatever we could find. It wasn’t much.

“Are we making a stand here?” Tara asked. “What’s that frigate doing?”

“They’re not sure,” Aurelia replied. “They’re too far away. They said it’ll take around an hour to get here, and they’re saying something about diplomacy and rules of engagement.”

“Shit,” I swore again. “Of course. They can’t send in missiles and bombs without knowing who they’re shooting.” I could hear the soldiers approaching the lighthouse. “Listen, we can’t make a stand here. There’s too many of them, but if we’re caught, we’ll get shot. They know we called for help.”

“But the only way out is to jump off the cliff,” said Aurelia.

It took a moment for her to realise that was exactly what I was thinking. “You’re crazy!”

“You know what they’ll do to you!” I argued, trying to convince her. “It’s our only way out!”

“It’s suicide!”

“Max, we have to go,” Tara interrupted. “There’re here.”

The three of us ran out the back door and stood at the cliff’s edge. It was a straight drop down. I’m not one to be afraid of heights, but the thought of actually diving off made my stomach turn.

“I’m not going,” Aurelia stated firmly.

“Your choice, girl,” Tara snapped. I could hear the front door being battered down. “Ready, Max?”

You can never be ready for that sort of thing. Tara and I did a run-up together and flung ourselves off the cliff. Those few seconds that we were airborne were the longest I ever felt. The air rushed at us as we plummeted down the cliff. The blue water grew nearer and nearer, until I smashed into it. It felt like hitting a brick wall. All the air was knocked out of me. I struggled to get to the surface. I saw Tara swimming towards me. She grabbed my pack. Realising I was being weighed down; I slid out of the shoulder straps. Tara pulled me up. My burning lungs were relieved once we burst through the surface.

“Where’s Aurelia?” I shouted.

“She didn’t jump,” Tara cried back.

I couldn’t believe it. Aurelia was stubborn, but even I thought she would follow us. I looked up in time to see Aurelia being taken away. Tara tapped me on the shoulder and signalled that we should swim to shore. The clouds rumbled. Another storm approached.

* * *

Two soldiers broke away from the pack, their eyes spotting something unusual. Hanging from a low tree branch, several metres off the ground, was a wet tattered white blouse. The men walked underneath, pointing to it suspiciously.

We moved swiftly and caught them unawares, getting them into strangle holds. They put up a token resistance, but within a minute they were out cold. I grabbed one of the rifles and stuffed a spare magazine into my pocket. Tara also grabbed a rifle. We had on time to do any more searching. Distant shouts indicated where we were.

Our escape had not gone unnoticed. We had been chased ever since we got onto the beach. I figured that the soldiers would form a perimeter to contain us. The initial group of pursuers were few in number and overextended, which we exploited by planting the bait to ambush the two closest pursuers. Tara barely had time to retrieve her top and was now running with it unbuttoned. The storm was hitting us hard, but shelter had to wait.

Suddenly the ground gave way. We fell straight down, landing in a pool of muddy water. I landed awkwardly on top of Tara. We were winded but unhurt. It appeared that we had fallen into an ancient trap – the classic covered pit. The walls of the pit were high and nearly vertical, preventing anyone who fell into the trap from climbing out, thus leaving them to starve or be captured. For us, there was a third threat – the storm water was rapidly pouring into the pit, collecting at the bottom of the hole. The water level was already waist-deep.

“Stand on my shoulders,” I told Tara. “You should be able to reach the top.”

“What about you?”

“Make a rope out of our clothes,” I replied, pulling off my shirt. “Drop it down when you’re up there.”

It took us a couple of tries to get our balance. The water was up to my chest as I grasped Tara’s ankles to keep her steady. Tara still couldn’t reach the top of the pit. She bent her knees and I felt a heavy kick as she leapt up. Her hands grabbed the unstable edge; her boots digging into the muddy walls until she had enough grip to lift herself out. I tossed our rifles up to her before she lowered our makeshift rope. Unfortunately, it was too short. With the water up to my shoulders, there was nothing I could do to reach it. Tara disappeared momentarily. When she came back she lowered the rope down, now with her shorts added to make the length. I seized it graciously and climbed up the slippery wall. I took hold of her hand as soon as I could reach, letting the rope fall down into the waterlogged pit. Tara heaved me up and out of the pit, slipping backwards as she did. I fell right on top of her; our lips pressing against each other. I pulled away. Tara’s eyes looked at me in surprise. Her body was glistening with sweat and rain; her nipples were fully erect; and now she had nothing on except for a black thong and boots. The stone amulet stood out, lying on her heaving chest.

Suddenly, I became aware of half a dozen rifles pointed at us. A rifle butt smacked into the back of my head.

When I came about, my hands were tied up. A soldier pulled me onto my knees and turned my head so I could see what was happening. We were by a large clearing surrounding by a ruined stone wall. Around twenty armed men – some in camouflage, others in plain working clothes – stood around the clearing. On the opposite side of the clearing, a man wearing a beret paced in front of Tara and Aurelia, also tied up. He raised a finger and pointed to me.

“You watch, then you die.”

He shouted an order. Two soldiers ripped the girls’ clothes off; tearing off Tara’s thong and Aurelia’s top and skirt. They stood naked, and fearful. Though the situation was dire, I couldn’t help but feel slightly aroused at seeing the two most beautiful women in my life stripped naked.

The commander shouted more instructions. The men around the clearing stood at attention. At his signal, the girls were shoved into the clearing. They sank to their thighs as soon as they touched the surface; the quicksand opening up to accept its gift. They shrieked and yelled, being pulled down. Their thighs slid right through; the quicksand climbing up their curvy hips. I could see Tara grit her teeth as the quicksand touched her crotch. Aurelia was doing her best not to struggle.

The observers began to chant. It was an ancient ritual practiced through generations to dedicate their harvest to their goddess; to return to nature what it had taken, and in doing so return fertility to the land. The thick mud responded to their collective chant, moving as if it had a will of its own, swirling around the sacrifices and playing with their deepest desires. Tara was gasping, and even Aurelia now opened her mouth in ecstasy.

They sank to their waists. The quicksand filled their navels and crept up their torsos, continuing to slip around their submerged legs. The bog shifted and swallowed them to their breasts. Tara moaned loudly as the quicksand cupped her breasts. Aurelia watched in horror as it filled her cleavage. The chanting loudened. The men stomped and cheered. The girls sank. Only their heads remained above the surface, tilting up for a last gasp of air. Beside me, the guard cocked his pistol and placed the muzzle to my head.

There was a bang. Many bangs. Things were being thrown around. Grenades. Suddenly the clearing was assailed by more soldiers, shooting at every target in sight. My executioner was killed by an accurate burst. The chanting men stopped and scurried around, looking for weapons or diving for cover; some even diving into the quicksand. The commander shouted valiantly, pulling out his pistol and firing at the attackers, but he too was cut down. The assault was violent and swift. The whole operation was over in less than a minute. The attackers shouted at each other. In English.

One of the soldiers ran to me. I could see it clearly now – the Stars and Stripes on his shoulder. As he approached, I felt my rage vaporise, replaced by pride and patriotism. I looked up to him and bellowed: “Ooh-rah!”

* * *

So it turned out that the USS John S. McCain had relayed Aurelia’s SOS to higher command. The order to launch the rescue operation was given the green light by the President of the United States himself. By coincidence, the Marine Corps unit that was sent to infiltrate the island was the same unit my brother served in before he was killed in action. The leaders of the liberation front were wiped out and most of the rebels surrendered. The Marines discovered vast amounts of military equipment and released the hostages that had been taken, and took those who had been killed aboard the John S. McCain to be taken home for burial.

The survivors of our expedition were taken to a makeshift camp, where we were fed and checked by medical experts. I was passed through without any problems, and ran into a Marine gunnery sergeant who handed over a ring that once belonged to my brother. We shook hands and wished each other the best. I moved hastily to the shower block, stripped off my shirt, already keen to get the jungle grime off my body.

I walked in and saw Tara and Aurelia. Naked. Aurelia’s hands were on Tara’s breasts while Tara’s fingers moved down between Aurelia’s legs. Their heated disagreements were apparently forgotten. They both turned as I came in, but stood casually, not bothered by my intrusion.

“Max,” Tara said in a sultry voice. “I was just telling Aurelia about the fertility ritual we just experienced. It wasn’t as bad as it looked.”

“Actually,” said Aurelia, “I rather enjoyed it.” She smiled and beckoned to me. “Come on Max, we don’t want you to miss out.”

Two naked ladies in the middle of the jungle. Who am I to say no?

[Northerner]

I approve of this fertility ritual and would like to know more about it!

[Aiko]

Nice one!

What happened to the amulet in the end? Did Tara get to keep it?

[quagmire_uk]

I've always thought a magical artifact would be a great way to insert sexiness into dramatic quicksand scenes, and strangely MPV hasn't done anything along those lines yet. Nice to see the concept played out here.

[PM2K]

Excellent tale indeed! Thanks for posting it for us!