Chapter Three

We are not alone.

The fair-haired boy jumped down off of the palm terrace and inspected the surroundings in front of him.

Tall palm trees towered right round the edge, circling the terrace and enclosing the lagoon. The sand on which he stood gleamed in the strong sunlight. Behind the sand, and behind the lagoon, the peaceful sea seemed never ending. An island, the fair-haired boy thought, it must be!

He could hear the harsh cries of seagulls above, circling the lagoon. The gentle whooshes of the waves were calming and invited him to swim.

He kicked off his shoes and socks. The sand seeped through his toes and felt smooth on his skin. Moving quickly, as the sand was hot under his feet, he approached the lagoon. The water was warm – as if he was about to take a bath. The air smelt salty and this wretched smell wafted under the fair-haired boy's nostrils. The surface of the water rippled slightly and the clear blue colour of the water shimmered in the sunlight.

The fair-haired boy was tall, and a build came with his height. He could make a boxer yet he had an attractive appearance. His fair hair swept around his face, his chocolate brown eyes looked wise and would invite any man into a friendly recognition. He was a calm boy, a stillness followed him, creating him to be a natural and wise leader.

Gazing fondly at the lagoon, he rolled up his school trousers and waded in, up to his knees.

Inhaling the smell of seaweed and algae resting on various rocks, the chubby boy jumped down off the terrace and reached the edge of the lagoon. The fair-haired boy turned to look at him and couldn't help but smile slightly at the sight of the boy, even though he had hoped to have lost him in the forest. He had fruit stains smeared on his face and school shirt.

The chubby boy smiled back at him at the recognition (which he wasn't getting when the boys were in the forest together). "What's yer name?"

The fair-haired boy made his way back over and picked up his shoes and socks.

"Ralph," he answered reluctantly. He didn't really care that much about the other boy's name.

The chubby boy waited to be asked; that didn't happen. He decided to speak again.

"I don't care what they call me, as long as they don't call me what they did at school."

Ralph squinted at the chubby boy, faintly interested. "What was that?"

The chubby boy bowed his head in shamed and muttered, "Piggy."

Ralph burst into a fit of giggles. "Oh, Piggy! Piggy!"

"You musn't tell anyone! You musn't! No one from my class is here, please Ralph!"

"All right, all right. I won't...Piggy," Ralph smirked, and he continued down the beach.

Piggy sighed and followed Ralph. No more was said, much to Ralph's relief. He let his mind wander about that girl on the plane. Did she survive? If she had survived, was she okay? Ralph's stomach dropped unpleasantly at the thought of her trapped in the plane, heading out to sea.

"Ralph? What's that?"

Ralph looked up. A giant rock of pink granite stuck out of the palm terrace, with many logs formed in a criss-cross pattern, perfect for sitting on and having meetings.

"No, not that, that in the water..."

Ralph followed Piggy's gaze into the lagoon. A pearly white shell had been washed up, near to the boy's feet. Ralph bent down and picked it up, shaking it of any sea water or sand it had in it. The inside of the tube was pink and a faded green.

"I know what that is!" Piggy said suddenly, delirious with excitement. "It's a shell! A conch! Someone had it on his back wall an' he blew it on that tube thing an' his mum would come, but my auntie wouldn't let me blow it on account of my ass-mar."

Ralph stopped caressing the conch for a moment. "Ass-mar?"

"That's right. I am the only boy in our school what has ass-mar."

"Sucks to your ass-mar," Ralph muttered.

Piggy, who seemed to ignore the comment, said, "Ralph! Blow it! We can get all the survivors together, an'..."

Ralph looked at the tube uncertainly. "How did your friend blow it?"

"He blew from his diaphragm and kind of spat in it."

Ralph pursed his lips tightly and emitted air into the tube. Piggy was right about the conch. A deep, harsh noise rushed past Ralph and Piggy, entering the forest.

Piggy cheered and clapped, making his way to the platform. Ralph followed, still blowing. The deep noise from the conch echoed at the mountain; birds squealed upwards and something squealed in the undergrowth behind the palm terrace.

Ralph sat at the head log while Piggy looked around for signs of life.

However, another sound made the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end. Ralph ceased to blow and Piggy's eyes widened in fear.

There it was again.

Ululating. From, what it seemed, deep voices of men. And the screaming of women.

It stopped.

"What was that?" Piggy said quietly.

Ralph shook his head of the noise, which had penetrated him so. A few timid little boys emerged from the undergrowth and Piggy invited them up. The arrival of boys in uniform made them forget. For now.

Helena was running towards the horn noise when she heard an awful noise. Was that...ululating? And was someone screaming? It reminded Helena of the noises those savages make, the ones she saw in films as a child. A few twigs broke around her, and Helena clutched the tree branch in fear as the sound of footsteps got closer and closer -

Thank God. She breathed a sigh of relief when the noises stopped and the group of boys with the hambone frills marched toward her. She had never been glad to see people before. "Oh, thank God it's you," she admitted to them as they reached her, climbing over the undergrowth and ducking under swinging branches. They too were covered in sweat, and to no surprise; they still had their full uniforms on!

Their red-headed leader ordered them to stop, and he approached her. "Hello, miss," he greeted, his eyes very slightly wandering down her frame. Well, she couldn't really blame him. After all, she had stripped some of her uniform due to the unbearable heat. It's not everyday women do that in public.

"Helena," she told him.

"Jack Merridew. Did you...did you hear that just now?" he asked her, trying not to let any nerves show.

"It would have been hard to miss it," Helena replied. Those sounds would not be leaving her mind in a hurry. "Did you hear the horn noise, or trumpet, before that?"

"That is where my choir and I were heading," said Jack. "I thought that maybe there would be a man somewhere, waiting for survivors. Would you care to join us?"

She returned his attractive smile, and took his outstretched arm. "Sure."

"Choir!" Jack barked. "Back in line." They jumped quickly back into their pairs, and Helena walked with them towards the sea. She could hear the waves, and prayed to anyone who would listen that a boat was waiting for them.

Ralph counted the boys who sat in front of him. There were definitely more on the plane, but he knew that some didn't make it. But there was no girl, and the boys with the funny-looking uniform were nowhere in sight either. He remembered overhearing that they were a choir, one of the finest apparently.

But then he spotted them first. The choir had made it.

They marched nobly forward, and wearily, as the sun was beating down hard. Ralph smiled a small smile when he saw the girl at the front, by the leading red-head. The boy's cloaks flowed behind them and they, weirdly, still wore their hambone frills and full uniform whereas the boys in front of Ralph had stripped some clothing.

Parading onto the platform, Jack turned to his choir.

"Choir! Halt!"

Jack turned and stepped forwards, peering at the sight before him. Helena joined him – she wasn't taking orders from Jack. After all, she wasn't a member of his choir.

"Is there a man with a megaphone?" Jack asked, slightly irritated, seeing only boys and no men.

"No, only me," said Ralph, holding up the conch.

Helena smiled admirably at Ralph's idea at getting everyone together. She sat by him at the front of the assembly; a young boy then approached her shyly, holding out his arm, with tear-stained eyes. A deep gash had cut across it like a lightning bolt. It wasn't deep; it was just a long scratch with a little blood that stained the edges.

As she ripped the bottom of her skirt to make a bandage for him, one of the choir boys fainted. Helena rolled her eyes in annoyance - what a weak one. She hoped that the army weren't enlisting boys like him to fight. They'd have no chance. The choir and the boys sitting down helped to move the boy so he was lying against a trunk in the shade.

"Is he all right?" asked Ralph uncertainly, peering at the skinny boy before him.

"Simon's always doing that," Jack said nonchalantly. "He fainted once when we were singing on a high stage. He fell on the choir director." Sniggers broke out amongst the choir and Helena snorted at the thought. "All right. Choir, take off your togs and sit."

As if released from class, the choir literally threw off their cloaks and hambone frills and happily perched in front of Ralph and Helena. She liked Jack's authority - it was very appealing.

"Stop crying!" Helena said in frustration, wrapping the cloth around the little boy's arm. Ralph raised his eyebrows at her impatience. Jack understood, he didn't really like littluns either. Helena softened, though, as he looked up at her with wide eyes. "There. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No, miss," he sniffed.

"Well then. You're all done."

He nodded and joined his friends. Jack broke the silence. "Well, we better all have names," he said, looking around the meeting. "I'm Jack. Jack Merridew."

"And I'm Ralph."

"Helena."

And the assembly went round the boys, all speaking their name in turn. It then came to Piggy.

"Well?" Jack demanded. "What's your name, Fatty?"

Ralph smiled delightedly at the assembly and spoke for him: "Piggy."

"Piggy!"

"Piggy!"

"Ha! Piggy!"

Jeers broke out and Helena found herself sniggering uncontrollably at the name. How absurd. Piggy's face blushed a dark red, and he shrank to the other side of Ralph.

"All right, shut up," said Ralph, lifting the conch. "We have to decide on being rescued."

"We need a chief to decide things," said Jack boldly, standing up. "And that should be me. I'm chapter chorister. I'm head boy."

Murmurs broke out between the boys. Helena couldn't help but think Jack would be the best leader.

"Let's have a vote," Roger said. The boys agreed.

"All right, then. Who wants Jack?" asked Ralph, standing up too.

The choir eagerly raised their hands. So did Helena. Jack looked very pleased at that fact. But, after all, Helena's only met Jack really so it made sense.

"Who wants me?" Ralph asked the throng.

"Yeah, Ralph!"

"Him with the conch!"

Helena knew why all the other boys had voted for Ralph. He had this stillness, this authority position handling the conch.

"I'm chief, then." The boys cheered and clapped; Helena did not. She stared at Jack, who looked a little angry. Things were clearly not going his way.

Ralph cleared his throat for silence and looked at Jack, who had gone a deep red, his electric blue eyes clearly angered. "The choir belongs to you, of course," said Ralph quickly. "They can be whatever you want them to be."

Jack didn't hesitate. "Hunters." The boys nodded admirably at the decision. They would need protecting, of course, and they would need food.

"Now, we need to decide if this is an island," Ralph continued, "and I will take three others with me on an expedition to find out."

He paused, glanced at the conch, and back up again. "I'll go, and Jack, Helena...and you." He pointed at Simon, who smiled weakly and nodded, his black hair falling into his eyes.

Helena froze. Ralph, Jack and Simon jumped up from their sitting positions.

"Are you coming, Helena?" asked Jack, holding out his hand.

"What about the ululating noises? And the screaming? Who was it?"

Ralph swallowed noisily and Jack's expression was annoyingly unreadable. The other boys had stopped their chatter so it was a deafening silence.

"We'll find out who made it, Helena. Come on, we'll protect you."

"I can protect myself," Helena muttered to Ralph's retreating back. Jack smirked at the comment, whereas Ralph didn't hear it.

She walked nervously alongside Jack and Simon. They were trembling too – the horror of what previously surrounded them cemented into their minds. Ralph ran to her side.

"What did Piggy want?" Helena asked.

"He was annoyed that I told everyone his name was Piggy," said Ralph, biting his bottom lip. "He looked hurt."

Jack snorted. "Who cares?"

"Better Piggy than Fatty," Helena said, dragging her eyes upwards.

"That's exactly what I said."

They continued to walk briskly on the sand, the air bright, their mood grim.

They reached the end of the beach; sea birds perched on the rocks which the waves crashed against. The pink granite rock continued in jagged lines up towards the mountain. It was very uneven. There was quite a jumble of trees below this side of the mountain, impossible to get through.

"We'll have to climb to get to the mountain," said Ralph wisely. "There's less jungle. And we can look down below for anything...unusual."

They nodded solemnly and began to scramble up. These pink cliffs rose up and narrow paths had formed, winding in and out towards the peak of the mountain. Jumping down onto a path, high enough to see some parts of their new home, the four of them looked down into the gap in the forest.

They gasped in surprise and froze in fear.

Below them, on the underside of the mountain, was a camp.

A natives camp.

Author's Note:

Thank you, all :) I will continue this, I promise, until the end.