Welcome to the Island, chapter 10.
As always, It would be remiss of me to go any further without offering my heartfelt thanks to my incredible editors and to you, the readers, for your support and feedback. You all make this story what it is.
Now, on with our tale.
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"
My name... My name is Dr. Simon Walker. United States Army Medical Corps. If you are hearing my voice, your life is in grave danger...
"
There was something haunting about the man's voice as it crackled through the speakers. I'm not going to lie; the first thought that went through my engineer brain was to question how, in the name of all things holy, this recorder was still being powered. Under normal circumstances, that thought alone would have had me on my hands and knees, under the desk, and tracing wires back to a power source, but in my defense, being told that your life is in danger has a way of re-ordering your priority list.
"I have no idea what the date is. My best guess is that it is around March by now, of 1953. I... I don't know how long I have. These bouts of... lucidity... they come and go. Some last hours, others only a few minutes, and it could be days before I get my next one, maybe weeks. I have managed to sneak this tape recorder away from the others, and I will try to explain as much as I can, when I can, about what happened to our expedition. But if you are not alone, you should stop now. Come back when the rest of your group is sleeping, I don't know what will happen if you are caught listening to this and there is much to tell you. My story is not a short one. But if this is all you get to hear, then please, try to give this message to my wife, Abigail."
There was the sound of shuffling through the speakers and a deep breath before the man continued to speak.
"I'm sorry, honey. I tried to fight it; I really did. I know I promised I would be home soon, but... If I don't make it, tell our son about me. Help him grow into a better man than his father. Tell him to remember me in his prayers, as I hope you do, and that I will always be looking down on both of you proudly. The two of you are the only good things that ever came of my life. I never have, and will never, stop loving you or thinking of you. The memory of your face, your smile, your touch, and the incredible warmth I have always felt when you are close have been the only things that have kept me going these long months. No matter what happened here, only you have ever had my heart. I must go now. I will be back as soon as I can."
"Dan? Are you coming?" The sound of Hayley's voice snapped my attention back to the doorway. I hit the stop button, hoping that it would play again the next time I returned.
"Yeah, I'm coming. I'm just checking something," I called back as I started making my way back into the tunnel. I took another look around the room. Something wasn't right here, and I meant more than just the recording. Meeting Freja was... well, it was hard to explain. There was an intrinsic yet mysterious trust in my thoughts toward the Goddess. Yes, of course, that thought could have been planted in my mind just as easily as the urge to fuck the girls senseless had been, but there was more to it than that. If she meant us harm, she could have easily done it. There were ways to make our lives unimaginably painful on this island, and that was before you considered the fact that - if what she had said was true - she had saved us from the plane crash in the first place. The island, so far, contained everything we could possibly need not only to survive but live in relative comfort. There were certainly worse places to be stranded. Even down to the lack of poisonous insects, which should have been
everywhere
in this part of the world.
I couldn't pretend to know anything about the abilities of Gods and Goddesses, but based on the urges we seemed powerless to resist, she could just as easily have us re-enacting her favorite scenes from
Oklahoma
... or
The Hunger Games...
or
The Human Centipede.
The reality was that despite the novelty of our situation, despite the sudden and possibly irreversible ending of our old lives, we were actually doing pretty well, all things considered. It was not even remotely difficult to imagine ways that Freja could be making our lives significantly harder than they were now.
But then there was that voice.
There was a scene in
Full Metal Jacket
that talked about a Marine's "thousand-yard stare." I remember watching something about how that was a reference to PTSD, or more simply put, the look on a man's face when he has seen some shit that the human mind was never meant to process. It is a look you can see on any old newsreels of any old war; that haunted, almost vacant look of shock and horror etched onto the faces of men barely old enough to be in college. I had no idea what this Simon Walker guy looked like, but his voice sounded like he would be wearing one of those looks as well. I couldn't possibly know what he would tell me, not before listening to the rest of his story, but I knew, just from the sound of his voice, that I wasn't going to like it.
The flickering light from my torch sent shadows dancing onto the walls of the room. It was barely ten feet square, yet this room, and the tape recorder it held, had immediately become the center of my world. And to the right of the recorder was a large dark stain on the wall.
"Fuck, please don't let this be the one point that water is getting in," I muttered to myself as I stepped closer and dabbed my finger against it. The wall was cold, but it was dry. I huffed out a sigh of relief, but I knew I would have to keep checking on it. Just because it was dry now, that didn't mean it would stay dry, especially when it started to rain outside.
Fuck! If water is getting in here, it must be getting in other places too. And the rooms on either side of this one are sealed shut. Fuck fuck fuck!
"Dan! Come on!" Ray's voice was thrown up the tunnel and bounced into the room. "Time's a wasting!"
"Jesus, are you on the clock?" I yelled back, probably a little more harshly than I had meant to. "What's the rush? I will be there in a minute! Or would you rather this place drop on your head while you're sleeping? Do you need me to hold your hand out there? I'm working here!"
"Errr.... Take your time," his answer came a few moments later, followed by the unmistakable sound of the girls giggling at him.