I'm Sorry but the Party's Over

Chapter Five

Fire claimed the trees around the silhouetted figures, something had started and fuelled a fire, as it now raged dangerously around the people barely in sight through the thick mask of smoke that covered the shrubbery. Coughing could be heard from behind the curtain of red and yellow and it did not take long for Jay and Tanya to rush to their feet, almost tripping over themselves as the rushed towards the mass of flames.

“Hello?” Jay called cautiously, squinting to find a route around the flames.

“Jay?!” A voice called above the roar of the crackling fire. “Its me; Tom.” James' eyes widened becoming more frantic for a search for an alternate way in recognising the man to be one of the members aboard the ship that now lay in ruins; scattered across the coast line.

“Who else is in there?” He called, wasting little time in finding out where Tanya was heading as she slithered into the forest- in the opposite direction of his friends.

“Izzy; she's passed out. Can you get us out of here?” He asked nervously. James spluttered breathing in the poisonous gas. He backed out of the opening as the flames greedily pounced forward, threatening to claim his outstretched arms. “Shit! James any time now is good” James wasn't sure what panicked him more, the growing flames that were closing in on his friends or the foreign sound of discomposure in his childhood companions voice.

“I need to find a way in...”

“You're going to need to get rid of the flames, Dude.” Thomas announced unwaveringly, once again putting up his shield- regaining the cool, calm and collected persona that showed him to be the leader he was born as.

James' head shot around, back and forth looking for something to help his cause. A rustling could be heard to his left and out emerged the panicked face of Tanya, her mouth twitched to the side in concentration as she picked up the wicker basket she had dropped. The girl shoved the aforementioned home-made basket into his chest and grabbed his hand running to the shore.

He had no time to talk or argue as she snatched the basket from him, dropped it to the floor and proceeded to rip the shirt from him, leaving his torso and chest naked. The cool air swished around his bare upper-half calming him only slightly as he watched the brunette in disbelief as she tore his shirt to shreds using them to line the baskets, her head flicking to her right to see how Thomas and Isabel were holding up.

She dunked the DIY baskets into the ocean, lifting them back up, trying to keep as much water in as possible with the haste she was demonstrating. The other copied these actions, running back up the beach with the water. He flung the water at the fiery wall, hearing a crackling noise but seeing no change in size as it seemed the flames felt nothing of the hit, as if it were merely a slap to the face. Tanya emptied hers this time taking more care in where the water splashed. The attempt nevertheless was fruitless. Thomas began barking orders from inside the prison walls he'd been placed in between.

“A little water will do no good, not on this scale. You need more; or another option. Where is the boat?”

“Its wrecked, scatted pretty much all over the island, or whatever the hell this is.” A small pause came over the three concious adults.

“Surely you could find the main cabin though?” James stuttered.

“I suppose but-”

“The fire extinguisher, go get it. Remember your parents had the boat completely re-equipped before we left harbour” Sure enough James' over-sensitive and rather paranoid mother had insisted that the boat be evaluated and safety checked before James even invited the few he did for the 'cruise'. She had also stood and watched group leave, making sure that they were all wearing life jackets and waving dramatically as if the ship were the titanic. Little did they know it would meet the same fate as the unsinkable ship.

James had been on just about every sports team possible throughout his run of the education circuit. However, never had he ran as fast or felt as out-of-breath as he did as raced towards the site of the shipwreck, battling the sinking sand that was pulling his feet down with every step he'd took. He scurried around the ruins, lifting up driftwood every now and then as if he expected it to just hit him in the face. However it seemed the harder he looked for it the harder it was to find. He'd come across food, plates, cutlery, jewellery and clothing (he was just thankful he hadn't found a dead body floating beneath the boards.)

He let the chilling water surround his as he swam out towards a small section of the boat which had drifted out to sea. The water was turning darker as he got further out, and between the almost-freezing temperatures of the water and the harsher still battle of the winds, he was sure that he'd at least be sniffling by the time he got home. 'If he got home' a rather nihilistic voice chose to comment in his head as his mood dampened.

He remembered the screaming and pleading for help that had first drove him to the fire and the memories of the celebration taking place as the invites threw their life jackets over the railings and plunging into the sea as they left view of the harbour. This was his fault that everyone was in this mess; him and his big-shot idea to woo the girl he wanted over by his big rich-man ship. All he had done, was murder his best friend. He ignored the tears that fell down his cheeks as the images of his a dead Rowan arose. The sight of the crimson red mixed with the golden sand, her hair sprinkled gently with sand particles as if they were supposed to be there. Truthfully he had never seen a sight as breath-taking as that. He wasn't sure for which reason it was however and if there could be a middle ground.

He wondered about Melody as his arms flailed hopelessly in the water, still looking for the fire-engine red of the extinguisher. A thought hit him; if the container had come apart from the ship, it'd be under water. Taking into account the weight of the metal container alone, he knew that there was no chance of it floating. He took a deep breathe and swam under the surface. The salt stung his eyes, as he felt the pain as if being stabbed in the eye repetitively. Swimming around blindly he could do nothing but crack above the surface and regain breath. He did so and blinked instinctively trying to rid his eye of the contaminated water. Finally feeling comfortable he prepared himself for the dive and retuned to the depths of the water.

His eyes – now adapted to the sea water – traced the area as far as the eye could see, he let himself sink deeper, looking for the tool that would save another pointless death, shed some blood from his hands. Minutes felt like hours whilst searching for the extinguisher and the very same foreboding voice reminded him that it could be too late for this. Thomas could've long since been engulfed by the flames, not to mention Izzy. And what about Tanya. His friends didn't deserve this. What kind of friend did this make him.

The movies were wrong he thought bitterly, this wasn't as cracked up to be. He thought back to the question he was so often asked as a child: if you were stuck on a desert island, what would you take with you if you could choose three things? He once would've answered his friends, food and some music. Telling everyone he'd have a party. He'd changed his mind now though. He'd much rather his friends were at home, safe at home. Not dying at the age of 23 surrounded by nothingness. No, he'd just take paper, a pen and a bottle now. His last message. Ironically he wondered if a message in a bottle would be much good.

He could feel the oxygen leaving his lungs as every second passed and he knew he had to return to the surface soon, if not for oxygen then to abandon his underwater search for the extinguisher. Just as a magpie is attracted to silver however, James George Smith, was attracted to women and a woman he did find. Blonde floating hair was visible from beneath a panel of the ships body, he reached down towards it, his blood running cold. Hoping it was his mind playing tricks on him. He didn't need swim much further to be shot-down in such an unforgiving way. The woman was not just a somebody that James had invited, nor was it a loose friend. Beneath the panel, lay his best kept secret; Melody. His sweet Melody as he had often joked.

Grief washed over him as he released the real carnage he had created, he mindlessly ended up next to her and was pulling effortlessly at the board, begging for it to release her from its hold. He managed to flip it up against a rock but ignored the screaming pain in his lungs for oxygen. Squeezing as hard as he could to keep his mouth firmly closed in time to grab Melody. He lunged for her arm, missed. He lunged for her arm again, this time the force of the movement, flipping Melody further away from him. The screaming in his brain echoed loudly as he felt his vision fog over begging for a release. Once more he reached for her dainty had and secured it firmly in his hand. His vision clouded over and his mouth automatically opened, letting in the demonic waters of the island and he spluttered and he choked, his body trying to rid of the water; he was past fighting however when he saw her fairytale-like hair dancing about amongst the waters and he pale face looking deathly pale as he had ever seen it. He gave up when he saw her vibrant blue eyes loose their colour, and flutter closed for the last time. He switched off, finally his body forced to give up every hope of revival.

He was long-lost anyway was James.

Tanya had guessed James wasn't coming back, she wasn't sure when it had clicked, whether it was as Thomas pleaded for help, his pleads soon turning to screams, his screams turning to the unrestricted sound of torture as the fire claimed him as its own, or while she screamed his name running from tree to tree as the fire spread chasing her around the island as her now bare feet scrambled in amongst the twigs and dead leaves littering the sandy floor as she called James' erasing any hope of him being lost. She needed to get out of this jungle-like forest. This didn't feel like anything earthly, this felt like a scene taking straight from the jaws of a horror movie. She'd never liked horror movies ever- Tanya had always been the type of girl to nestle down with a pint of Ben and Jerry's and a copy of the Notebook. Now, this was a reality shock. She urged to see the light of the edge of the forest, or the sound of the waves crashing down against the golden beaches, she was sure she was going the wrong way but she had no proof. If she turned and ran another way, she could lead herself deeper into the forest- or worse; into the jaws of the fire. She rejected the idea almost as quickly as it entered her head, she did not have time for thinking, especially not doubtful thinking.

A noise sounded above her, it was coming from the sky. It sounded not unlike thunder but it was more rhythmic, she stopped for a few seconds letting her ears adapt to the thumping; A helicopter. She felt the relief hit her, bang in the face and she knew that if she gave herself time to cry, she would. She needed to draw some kind of attention to herself. She ran towards the closest form of daylight she could see, using the buzz of the helicopter as a compass to lead her to the edge. She ran fast the pounding of her feet as loud as that of her heart. She had one desire since boarding the ship; to get off. Truth be told, she was terrified of water and the only reason she had came was James' insistence. It was times like these she wish she had a back-bone.

The break in the trees was visible and she almost passed out at the sight of the light, feeling more grateful than she ever had before. The helicopter was hovering not too far away from her and she waved her arms in the air as if she were doing jumping jacks the instinct of self-preservation turning a blind eye to the tiredness in her arms, the lack of energy that was threatening to make her collapse. She wasn't sure what she expected when the helicopter came down to 'rescue' her but it certainly was not the chest full of bullets she received.