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Island Retreat
A Story Every Day in 2024 May 23rd 144/366
"Land ahoy!"
Captain Combs scanned the horizon and indeed, he could see the bump rising from the sea's flatness. It was a welcome sight, as although he loved the swell of the waves, he was fed up of rum and biscuits and was eager to find some exotic fruit or wild pig on which to feast. He knew that his men felt the same.
"Right! Let's get there, men!" and a rousing cheer of agreement filled his heart.
*
The island was deep green with golden sand stretching into the distance. The Captain thought he could see small creatures scurrying where the trees met the sand. His stomach rumbled at the thought of fresh meat.
The boat beached and they scrambled out.
"Alright, men. You know your roles. When the sun is at its highest, we meet here. Happy hunting!"
The men left, laughing, their spirits high as they can only be at the start of a day where none of its pitfalls are anticipated or known.
*
Captain Combs and Bones, his ironically nicknamed man-mountain of a crewman reached the beach at noon as agreed. No men. The only thing familiar? Their boat. Had it moved? Could be the swell? The captain paid it no more thought.
The deserted beach surprised him. He and Bones, whilst getting water, were sure they could smell cooking.
"I don't like this, Cap'n," Bones said, warily.
Captain Combs shared his fears but was damned if he would voice them.
"Leave the water here, Bones," and they walked towards where his men had gone.
The mood of revelry dissipated, replaced by something darker.
*
Smoke rose above the trees. They followed it. The smell intensified. Something scuttled in the undergrowth. A monkey?
A clearing and in it, the most horrific sight. A butchery. A spit above a roaring fire.
Burning flesh.
*
"Run, Bones!"
Sprinting, he heard a cry, and a heavy thud, and his own panting breath.
He ran with the swiftness of the desperate.
The boat was in reach. His legs burned. Could he make it?
Powering on, he leapt into the boat, his pursuers close.
He grabbed an oar.
And then he saw the missing plank.
***
365 words
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Comments (12)
Interesting and delicious content. Keep posting more
They forgot to recon, the poor dead lubbers. Excellent sea faring tale, Rachel! Makes we want to sing a sea shanty!
Somebody is eating well, it seems :)
Yikes! I’m guessing the message here is to stick with rum and biscuits! Great story Rachel!
Well that was certainly unexpected!! Great work here Rachel!!
Not-fast-enough food.
Tabasco, anyone?
Well, something had a very successful hunt. Poor Bones!
We all knew it couldnt end well!
And the tables turned. Oops.
Mmmm, that sure sounds like a delicious meal hehehehehehe
Ooops...