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Episode 101 |
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Children of Poseidon “Sarah?” called Alex. Standing on top of the mound over the base camp, Alex
held his right hand to his earpiece, staring into the north. “Sarah, do you copy? Sarah, come in.” His hand dropped away in frustration. He turned as Lisa approached. “Yeah?” “Did they really find someone?” she asked. He looked back at the distance. “I wouldn’t get too excited about it,” he
cautioned. “It’s very likely that it’s
a redundant team, sent here to make sure we don’t get into trouble.” “What do you mean?” she asked, troubled. “Governments have a tendency to send in one team as a
decoy, louder deployment and that kind of stuff, in order to draw whatever
hostility there may be,” Alex explained, slowly descending the top of the
mound. “If there’s anyone on the
island, odds are, they’re UN or “It wasn’t them being hostile that worried me,” she
said. Alex looked at her, confused. “It was them being natives.” Sarah sprinted across the pocket-marked ground. With her machine gun in hand, she raced
through the warm twilight air as the stars overhead were just beginning to
come alive. She skidded before a
protruding mound and raced to her left, running into the west. “Til,” she called as she ran. “Are you turning?” “Yep,” he said. The small figure ran for all he was worth. Racing over the flat land, he rushed as
fast as his leather boots would carry him.
But behind him, Isaiah was quickly gaining. As the fleeing prey slowed to exhaustion,
Isaiah skidded on the ground, pinning him to the hard surface. Driving the figure face first into the rocks, Isaiah
placed his pistol against his head.
“Do not move,” he warned quietly.
Hearing Til and Sarah’s approach in the distance, he reached for the
small form’s shoulder and rolled him over. It was a boy. He had deeply-tanned skin and black hair. His huge, blue eyes quaked at the sight of
Isaiah and his pistol. To Isaiah’s
right, Til slowed while Sarah approached cautiously, her machine gun held
ready. “Who are you?” Isaiah asked. The boy quaked, terrified. Isaiah glanced at Emma.
“You try.” The woman slung her machine gun behind her back and
dropped down in front of the boy.
“<What is your name?>” she asked in French. He didn’t respond. “<What is your name?>” she repeated,
slowly in German. “Try Spanish,” Isaiah suggested. “<What is your name?>” she asked. “<What is your name?>” Isaiah asked in Hebrew. “<Do you understand me?>” Sarah asked in Greek. The boy merely stared at both of them, petrified. Sarah stared into his eyes for a moment,
then glanced up at Til. “Radio back to
Alex and the others. Tell them what
we’ve found.” “What have we found?” he asked. Sarah
looked back at the boy, considering his clothes for the first time. She felt his sleeve for a moment, the pure
fabric soft under her finger tips.
“Tell them…” Her voice
trailed. “Tell them, just tell them to
bring Jason.” |
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