VOLATILE (I) : peter pan ouat

When Cooking a Feast Happened

Day: 2

I wake up on the dirt. My breath hits my chest like small knives, digging into my flesh. I begin to cough heavily, looking around me. I'm surrounded by nearly twenty boys, all of whom are waking up. I crack my back, which is completely sore from lying down on top of my bow and arrows. I look around for Johnny, when I notice him. His head pops up and he looks around in circles, panic on his face. We make eye contact and he relaxes.

"Alright boys," the voice that belongs to pure evil begins. "The night is up, so we head back."

"Who's moving on?" I hear a voice yell out behind me. It belongs to a boy who I don't recognise.

"Why do you want to know?" Another voice yells. "You obviously made it."

"I know, I just want to know how much competition I have." The first boy boasts.

"Well," Pan Flute begins. "I wouldn't get so cocky Kiki. You made it back with ten minutes to spare."

A couple of the boys chuckle. The original boy, Kiki I assume, frowns.

"Two boys: Fred and Dominique, didn't make it back on time, so they're out. And as for those who have yet to return: Nicholas, Caleb and Wilbur," Pan Flute looks out at everyone, "but let's not dwell on that. It's feast time!"

Several of the boys groan and stand up. They begrudgingly walk back to camp, complaining about the feast. I get up and make my way through to where Johnny stands.

"Hey, thanks for waiting for me," I grumble sarcastically. "Really appreciate it. Makes up for you abandoning me in the middle of the woods."

"Sorry about that," Johnny frowns. "But hey, you made it back on time. Did fine on your own."

"I didn't do it on my own," I bark. "I had some help. From Harry and Alex, did you meet them?"

"I met Alex, if you do recall," he gestures to his swollen eye. "Righteous asshole he is. Who the hell does he think he is?"

"If it makes you feel any better, when I saw him he looked like shit." I lie. Truthfully I could only make out the silhouette of his and Harry's features, since it was so dark.

"So they helped you?" Johnny asks.

"Harry did. He talked me through how to shoot the arrows. Alex was," I pause, "disinterested."

"Seems like the kind to be disinterested." Johnny presses.

"He felt the need to let me know that I was only there to die. I showed him. Only there to die. If I have anything to do with it, that's Alex's fate. Cared more about killing a boar then my life, the sadist."

Johnny shrugs. "Hopefully we will be out of here before we run into him again."

We arrive at the camp, which is already in full swing. Boys bustle about. Some are playing together, running about and others are fighting with swords. The majority, however, are carrying food or giant blocks of wood around.

The fifteen or so of us walk into one of the tents. The tent smells like a rotten stew of smoke and compost. The tent is open in slits at the top, filling the enclosed space with sunlight. Inside the tent there are four or five fire pits. Knives are scattered all over the floor, and there are two barrels at the back of the room. To the left, there is a giant pile of boar carcases.

"You know the drill boys." Pan Flute's voice rings out.

There is a collective groan from all the boys. A few collapse on the ground, going back to sleep, while other walk over to the pile of boar and yank them down.