Jordyn
I trudge back through the sand and stand above the lion with my hands planted on my hips.
What does he plan for me to do with it?
It's longer than my arm span and looks to weigh twice as much as I do. I know from the fight that it weighs more than I can pick up.
Yet, the flies dance back and forth across the black skin. Glittering sand shines in the fur, joined by beads of blood and other mysterious bodily fluids. Most of the flies land near the knife wound on the horse-lion's chest and come away covered in sticky red blood. The stench fills every inch of the alcove like liquid filling a square container.
I have to get it out of our hideout before the smell attracts other predators.
Wait- our?
No, my hideout. Nothing in here belongs to Samson. I found it; it's mine.
I snap myself back into reality and lean over to grab the lion's back ankles. They're as big around as my forearm, and the size forces me to push them together and hold them with both hands. I pull with my back, using my legs to propel my body backwards.
My leg muscles tense and burn as I walk backwards in the sand, dragging the lion along with me. It leaves a trail of black blood in the white sand, and the flies scatter with every slow movement.
When I break out of the shade, the sunlight bears down on me. I can feel my skin heating up like a slow fire creeping across every inch of me. I push strands of my hair away from my face with my shoulder and continue pulling until I'm several feet away from the shade. Then, I stop and rest my hands on my lower back, sucking in breaths of molasses air.
One option is to dig a grave. The issue with that is I don't have anything to dig with except for my hands, and God only knows how long it would take to create a hole big enough for the animal. A layer of sand wouldn't stop a few hungry animals in the dark hours of the frozen nights.
Another option is to push him into the water.
I glance over at the glittering clear surface. The lack of wind makes the waves more like rolling hills than vicious horses. Today, they just tumble onto the white sand and slither up the beach. It turns the sand a dark shade of gray until the water evaporates moments later in the intense heat. The silver fish skirt through the water like arrows, always travelling in groups of five or more.
They nibbled on Sam earlier. Would they eat the lion?
It's worth a shot.
I grab the lion's paws again and begin to pull him along the downhill slope towards the water. I've not taken more than five steps when water splashes against the back of my feet. I squeal and drop the ankles, sprinting for dry land.
The air leaves my lungs in one short burst, and my lungs capsize. My hands clutch my knees; fingernails dig into the soft skin under my single bare leg. The ground sways under me, and I fight to center myself again.
It was just a little. It didn't cover you. You aren't drowning.
Then why can't I breathe?
Water floods my lungs, and I sink into the sand on my knees. I clench my eyes closed against the bitter memory resurfacing.
Blue surrounds me. Light filters through in shattered rays. My arms reach towards the daisy sun above me. My hands grasp for the surface as bubbles rise around me. Fire spreads through my lungs, but this isn't the warm fire I love. This is searing ice that punctures my nervous system and numbs my senses.
YOU ARE READING
The Island
Science Fiction"This is The Island, a prison designed for minors like me- too young to be executed, too old to be reformed, and too much of a stain on humanity to let exist. It was 'the answer' to the growing crime rate resulting from a world that was falling apar...
