South Seas

Inland was a small fresh water spring, but the problem of food will soon arise since there are no animals on the island except for insects, small lizards and colonies of sea birds on the higher cliffs. Fishing in the cove was at best a temporary respite. It was a divers' paradise, and not much else.

Jac had a hut there, for some of his stuff. It was better kept than the one on the beach at Arang. It would not do the guns well if rainwater or salt water got into the firing mechanisms. It was not meant to be lived-in. But he had to make do with what was available. It might be uncomfortable lying on the hard wooden floor, but at least it would be dry.

The yacht would be beached when the tide ran out. Jac resorted to camouflaging it with a lot of leaves and branches. From afar it would look like a natural protrusion from the island. In the morning, it will be afloat again, so he was not too worried about getting off this island. What Jac was worried about was where he should go next. Truthfully, he had not planned that far. He thought it would not be so easy.

The jungle was not quiet but alive with myriad of sounds. For one unused to it, the cacophony would drive one mad. No matter where he was, he always made sure that the area where he would sleep would be free of ants. When Jac was a kid, he had an ant bite while pissing on a tree. Later, the head of his cock had swelled up like a balloon. He most certainly did not care for a repeat of that potential amputation.

The night should be fairly pleasant. The wind was blowing steady, north by northeast. It was cooling and refreshing at the same time. He was very hungry by the time the mosquito nets had been strung up. It was a staying action, since these islands had what Jac termed as "Commando" mosquitoes, the ones that can sneak pass the best netting and strike with bloody efficiency.

He was about to grab something to eat when he heard a whimper of a groan...

******

"Wake up, Marcelo... Wake up..."

"Uhh... My head..."

"Here, drink this Marcelo. Drink it all..."

Marcelo took the proffered drink. It was foul smelling and tasted worse. He gagged on it initially, but two pairs of strong arms held him down, and the drink was forced down. When the sputter of drowning subsided, he felt light headed, but the worst of his drunkenness seemed to have dissipated.

"It will return, but not until we've finished. By then, you would have wished you haven't drunk so much..."

"Miro? Ramiro?"

"The one and only."

"You're late."

"Engine trouble."

"So good to see you again his friend. Give me a few more moments, because I still see two of you, and I know for sure that you've no brothers."

"I thought you haven't arrived yet. I didn't see your boat, and thought you've chicken out."

"What??!! My boat is out there sitting in that bay. Ana is on it. Probably passed out from some of those sleeping pills I gave her. She couldn't have move it on her own, even if she knows how to, which she doesn't. So either I'm still very drunk or you're blind."

"I'm not blind Marcelo. You can see for yourself, in the morning, since it jet-black dark outside right now. No Marcelo, I'm not blind, and can't blame the darkness either, since I shone a searchlight all round and only saw sampans and fishing boats, but no white yacht."

"It's there Miro. Your searchlight must have missed it."

"Okay if you say so. Is the stuff on board?"

"Yes, where else would it be? I couldn't bring so much with him ashore. Besides we agreed to make the transfer out at sea. Help me up Miro. There are some pills on board that will make this headache go away faster. Its one of those brand new headache pills, 25 grams is enough to match 500 grams of Paracetemol, so I'm going to take 50 grams."

Marcelo was indeed surprised and furious to find that his childhood buddy, Ramiro, was right after all. The search took over an hour, but within the first five minutes, it was clear that his yacht had truly disappeared. Marcelo wanted to be absolutely sure.

"Well, what now?"

"You're asking me??!!"

Miro mutely nodded, although he was pretty sure that at least one of the villagers might know something about the disappearance.

"Hey that guy that kept shoving that awful drink at me... Maybe... Maybe he knows something? I think his name is Hasla or Hass or something like that... It starts with an H, that's all I can remember right now..."

Miro spoke to one his guys, while Marcelo was emptying his stomach overboard. The reply was, "Hassan?" "Yes, Miro that's it. Short, dark with curly hair and brown teeth?"

"Don't worry, we'll soon get to the bottom of this, and then we can make the trade, and after that live like kings, eh, Marcelo?"

"Got any hot water to wash this taste of puke out of my mouth?"

******

"Water..." the voice asked, weakly.

It sounded like "Voda." But Jac caught on the meaning and pressed the cup to Ana's parched lips. She made a futile effort to sit up. Jac had to cradle her head and helped her drink when she slumped back hard on the wooden floor. She must have been weaker than he had initially thought.

"Demónio... Ó Diabo..." This time it was as weak as her body.

Jac gently laid her back down and looked penetratingly at her. The pale light from the oil lamp illuminated her face. She was beautiful, with faint freckles on her cheeks. He wondered why he had not noticed that before. She was deathly pale though, so he offered her some rice, making the eating gesture. Ana took the proffered banana leaf that held the rice and started eating. It was plain and bland, but in her condition, any added spice would make her throw up anyway. Might as well have some food before dying, if that was to be her fate. At least, she would not die hungry or seasick.

"Ó Satanás, onde é que estamos? Onde? Onde?..."

"Onde" The phrasebook that Jac found in the cabin was supposed to help. "Onde" means where. Could she mean, "Where are we?"

Another search... "Numa ilha... Muito longe..." Okay. That was about as close as an answer that he could find.

"Numa ilha... muito longe...? Porquê? Você é ó diabo! Vai matar-me?"

Jac made a show of searching through the phrase book, and then threw it down disgustedly. He planned to ask for a refund. He was also beginning to have a headache when she called him Santa. He certainly did not have the requisite white beard or potbelly. Jac was not the most agreeable person to be around with when he had a headache. Ana noticed the he had given up, and ate in silence.

"Numa ilha... Porquê?" She sobbed with each bite.

Jac tentatively offered her parts of a baked fish to offset the bland white rice. For a brief moment, Ana had a disgusted look on her face when she saw that yellowish piece. Jac just shrugged and pop it into his mouth instead. He was not one to waste food.

"Porquê?"

After a while, Ana got the courage and pointed to another piece, which surprised him. Jac pushed the leaf closer to her. Ana closed her eyes, to try and fight down the revulsion as she bit into a piece. She chewed it a few times and swallowed. And in no time at all, the entire fish was gone. He was never that good of a cook, but Hassan's mother was an excellent one. Her open-fire baked fish were the best that Jac had ever tasted.

Ana's hunger was now fully to the fore, and she looked hungrily around for some more. The few that Jac had were supposed to last for a few days. Careful rationing went out the window, when she devoured the second and third fish with much gusto. Clearly, Ana did not want more rice. It was a good thing since all Jac was left with as he had let her take all the fish. He was not the one to go hungry under any circumstance.

After that meal, Jac lied down and closed his eyes in mock sleep. He made sure that the nets were secure before actually going to sleep. His legs bore marks of what happened if he did not take extra precautions. He saw that she was doing the same. Mosquitoes must be present from wherever the hell she hailed from.

"You... Hurt me?"

That startled Jac awake. He saw that she had taken up the phrase book trying to pick up where he had left off. He shook his head, and said, "No." He made the gesture of sleep, failing to realise that he himself had spoken English.

"You... English?"

"Yes." He started to turn around when he stopped. She seemed to be expecting something.

"Me... English. Speak English." Complete with all the appropriate gestures.

"Porquê? Vai Ana?... Hurt me?"

"No. Me hungry. Me no hurt you. Me no kill you. Me sleep."

In the end, Jac made the exaggerated sleep gesture again, hoping that she would take the hint. He was getting embarrassed at the broken "Me Tarzan, You Jane" English that he was speaking. Moreover, his hands were beginning to tire from the gestures, and his headache was getting worse as each minute passed. Besides he did not think that she comprehended any of his words.

He blew out the lamp, not caring whether she took the hint or not. Soon afterwards in the darkness, he heard sobs coming from her direction. Guilt began to deride him for his thoughtlessness. She gave him the best sex that he had ever experienced, and here he was treating her rather badly. No wonder so many people thought that Jac was heartless. A heartless monster that only cared for himself.

In the dark, Jac moved to Ana's netting. She tried to prevent him from touching her, but he was stronger. The opposition got weaker when she felt that he had no other intention other than getting a full night's sleep. Her hair smelled real good, lulling him. He assumed that he did not smell as bad since there was no comment or gagging response. With her head on his shoulder, they drifted off into dreamless slumber.

******

Marcelo awakened to the sounds of waves and a loud diesel engine roaring through the cabin. His head still pounded, but luckily he had nothing left in his stomach to puke up. The sun was shining brightly through a porthole and there was no curtain to block it out. The pillow worked for a while, until he had to breathe again.

"Wake up, Marcelo."

"I'm awake..." with a long and loud groan.

The ship, a trawler not unlike the ones fishing out in the open sea was at full throttle. It was not built for speed or comfort. The trail of black smoke could be seen for miles. The daylight hurt his eyes, as did the numerous bumps and bruises as he tried to get up on the weather deck.

"We're heading for Tawarin, a group of islands not far now." Miro spoke, while handing Marcelo a cup of strong black coffee and at least four white pills that looked like Paracetemol. He then pointed to the bloodied corpse hanging from the main mast. A few sea birds were perched on it, trying to gorge on the free meal.

"Hassan had a lot of good information for us. Mumaz here knows that cove which he spoke of. We should be there by midday. Once we get your yacht back, we can actually do the transfer in that calm cove. It would be much better than out in the open seas. There is some food down below if you feel up to it. The handguns are being loaded as we speak. We only have to deal with one person, and your wife. Hassan had no reason to lie when he told us that was a small two-man operation. He was supposed to get you drunk, and then his accomplice would steal your boat. It was very neat I must say. I don't know this man but I admire his simplicity and efficiency. I was told that he brewed that awful toddy himself. You'd no chance against that. But if you like, I can let you handle this. Follow me, Marcelo..."

Miro led Marcelo to the stern. There he pulled the tarpaulin off something solidly mounted. It was a Browning .50 calibre machine gun. Marcelo could see that it was well oiled and ready. The links even shone in the morning light. Almost immediately his headache disappeared as his hands itched to pull the trigger.

"Go ahead... Fire off a few rounds. With the money that we're going to make, I think we can afford a lot of rounds..."

Marcelo grinned for the first time since last night. It was a boyish grin, something like being shown a toy for the first time.

******

Jac had a silly grin on his face when he woke up. It was an automatic reaction as he tried to shake the cobwebs of sleep. Usually, Marlissa would disappear after finishing. This was the first in a long while when Jac had held a woman throughout the night. It was a nice feeling, and he wowed to repeat it as much as possible.

He moved around, partially to get the cricks out from sleeping on the hard wooden floor. It was then that he noticed that she was gone. He fought down his panic, realising that this was a small island and there was not really any place that she could go. He doubted that she would have sailed the yacht out herself. The surf pounding on the reefs and rocks would discourage even highly skilled sailors, unless they know these waters like the back of their hands.

The sun was shining brightly, but had not dissipated the coolness of jungle yet. It would be until midday before it becomes uncomfortably hot. Even with the carpet of leaves overhead, one could get sunburn if one was not too careful. Jac had learned that rather quickly.

Ana had gotten up weak and dazed, but with a delicious feeling down on her loins. Her sickly disposition had pretty much dissipated. However, the hard shoulder that her head had rested on brought her to full alertness. It was the monster that had raped her yesterday. She saw the hut, and it contents when she got up. Careful to avoid disturbing him, she opened one of the numerous boxes. She entertained the thought of delicious revenge as she emptied a full clip into him.

But she was fully aware that she was not a murderer. Besides she knew nothing about guns. She would have probably hurt herself instead. So, she just sat down and ate what remained in his backpack. In the dim morning light, she saw that he was babyishly handsome when he slept. His snores were loud, something that he would have to work on if they were to get together again.

Then she stopped herself short. Her thoughts had crossed the line of one of the Ten Commandments. "Thou shalt not commit adultery." Despite what her strict upbringing had instilled in her, she felt herself getting wet when she rested her eyes at the tent pole below his stomach. It seemed to be larger than what she had briefly glimpsed yesterday. She tried and failed to be rid of those sinful thoughts. She made out for the door, hoping to disappear before her hands and body betrayed her fully.

Jac headed for the spring in just his sarong. The sarong is really versatile. Not only for decency, but it also can be used as a towel or a sunshade. It was light, and rather durable, and extremely comfortable. He had it on his shoulders as he walked naked to the spring. The crystal clear water comes out from the mountain, along a small waterfall. There were small ponds with smooth pebbles beds.

For decency's sake, Jac usually swam in a pair of shorts. Despite being islanders, the villagers were devout Christians. It would not do for him to be swimming naked in full view of children. He was liable to get his private parts cut off by the parson. But this time, because of the isolation, Jac had forgone his trunks.

Ana could hardly miss Jac's "morning wood," the piss-proud erection so prominent in the white square area of his loins. She just had succeeded in forgetting that when she found the waterfall. The soap that she had grabbed was going to be useful after all. The water was cold, but delicious. She only managed to blink when her heart throbbed at the same time his cock twitched when he saw her.

Jac saw her arms raised to wash her hair that made her breasts jut out even more. She just stopped in mid action and stared when he came into view. At first at his erection, then at his face. He just nonchalantly walked pass her and grabbed the soap. The rushing water would eventually carry away the soap out to sea, so he had no compunctions about thoroughly lathering himself.

"Bom dia, ó Diabo. Poço do sono?... Um... You good?"

"Bonjour. Yes, I'm good. Best," as Jac looked down on his erection and then turned his gaze towards her erect nipples. "I see you're good also." And he grinned.

"Bonjour?"

"Argh! I give up." Jac admittedly felt that the French word would suffice. Besides that's the only French word he knew. Obviously she was not French.

It took a bit of effort not to look at her while he soaped his cock. Although he did loiter to get enough lather with his pubic hair. He heard her gasp when he did that. It took a lot more effort not to stroke his cock. It was painful to say the least, because he was dying to take a piss and he could not while having that erection.

Ana returned to washing her hair when she saw that he needed a bath more than she did. She remembered well that awful smell he had. Although she remembered him smelling better last night. Then smiling to herself wickedly, she made a great show of displaying her breasts and erect nipples. She knew that he was trying hard not to stare. His resolve was weakening though.

When he did turn to her, in part to wash off the soap, she was already in the middle of that flowing water. He saw her shiver. He ducked himself into that fast flowing water, and it was not long when he had to come up to breathe with the soap almost full washed off. He smiled when he saw that she having trouble with some parts of her hair.

Ana flinched once, but allowed him to help her wash her hair. She was glad to see that he took the hint. Jac had other ideas of course but he was contented with this small part for now. For a while, they both sat on the partially submerged rocks, with him helping her to wash her hair, and she helping to wash some off his body. It was certainly erotic, which was why he went to help her in the first place.

She shivered every time he ran his fingers through her hair. He could feel the small electrical tinges on his fingertips. Her hands felt really good as they traced the muscles on his body. It felt the best when she put both hands on his cock. He was hoping that she would do that. He was not expecting it really, since every time he had expected something, he would be disappointed.

She shivered even more when he splashed and loving washed her breasts after finishing with her hair. The nipples were already hard by the time he got there. This time Jac took his sweet time in electrifying her skin. He wanted to know every inch and bump. Even that small mole on her left side. He got to notice in more detail her areolas. The colour of it, and the size and shape.

Ana meanwhile turned her attention to his cock. It was certainly bigger than Marcelo's. She started to lightly stroke it, trying to feel every bump and vein. She lingered for a while at the mushroom head, as if trying to commit to memory the shape of it. The precum had already mingled with the water as she ran a finger along the slit. She could not have missed that massive jerk when she did that. Yet, she was still gentle as he was.

Both of them were contented to just touch and roam. It was so different from all the other encounters that Jac have had. He was more conscious of giving this beautiful girl pleasure than being pleasured himself. Almost like a reversal of roles. The sun was warming the surroundings, but the waters remain cool and nice.

Impishly, Jac allowed one of his hands to snake down to cup her mound, the sacred place. Underwater, he ran his thick fingers through the hair, ending up at the slit. He first gently flicked and then rubbed her clitoris. She returned from her roaming to his cock and did the same. There was no rush, and they both knew it.