6

The sea barely made a noise as it caressed the hull of the fishing boat. The sails were limp. Everything was quiet. Dwayne stirred. After a few seconds of hellish disorientation, he scrambled to his feet. Jasmine was still asleep. Her back rose and fell slightly with her breath. Dwayne watched. A perfect rhythm. She froze in the middle of exhaling; her soft rounded shoulders became angular as she tensed her muscles. Dwayne stood. The boat moved slightly in the moment of imbalance. A knife appeared at Dwayne’s throat. A few seconds of stunned silence was ended with a short apology from Jasmine. Dwayne was about to reply when he saw something. He pointed behind Jasmine who promptly turned then, after a split second’s thought, crouched beside the water barrel.

Shapes stuck out on the horizon. Like wisps of coal smoke only somehow linear, flickering between the sea and sky. Dwayne had never seen anything like it but the look in Jasmines eye’s told him she knew only too well and the prospect wasn’t good. The objects seemed to be getting larger...or closer, Dwayne wasn’t sure which.

Jasmine scanned the lifeless sails and quickly realised the boat wasn’t moving anytime soon. She took her only other option quickly, quietly lowering herself into the water. She made no attempt to swim; she just floated with one hand on the hull. Dwayne made a considerably less quiet entry into the ocean and parked himself next to Jasmine.

“What is it?”
Jasmine didn’t answer; she was preoccupied with something else.
“Jaz...what are we...?”
He paused, noticing the earnest concentration on Jasmines face.
“What are you doing?”
A large bubble surfaced next to Dwayne from under the hull and Jasmine smiled.
“Follow me.”
(Tag to Nick)

5

Unfortunately, Jasmine didn’t talk in her sleep. Otherwise, Dwayne may have been able to gain insight into her thoughts. Her eyes fluttered as though dreaming of something. Dwayne would have given just about anything to be able to know what she was thinking of. Where had she been? Where were they going? What was she doing saving his life again? Dwayne hadn’t seen Jasmine since the day an accident had taken away his ability walk two years ago. She was a hero that day but nobody else knew that. Jasmine had disappeared.

For two years Dwayne had been living a lie, taking the credit for the heroic acts of the girl who he presumed had died in the fire. She had not died though; the girl who saved Dwayne’s life was very much alive and laying asleep in front of him. Dwayne had a lot of questions to ask her but decided to let her sleep. She deserved that, after all this was the second time in two years that she had helped him... and besides, Dwayne wanted time to think.

Once he had cleared his mind of the grey things, his parents, the hole and the familiar old man, Dwayne began to look around the boat. He found a first aid kit in the small storage cabin of the yacht, which he intended to use to help mend Jasmine’s bleeding. As he carefully investigated her perfectly tanned back he expected to see a wound, a fresh bullet hole or something else bloody. However, underneath the t-shirt he saw that there was not a scratch on her, not even scars from that terrible fire two years ago; the blood on her clothes was someone else’s. He checked himself and saw that he too was covered with blood but with no visible wounds. Had he been wounded? Dwayne couldn’t remember being wounded while on the island but he couldn’t say for sure, it wouldn’t be the first time that he had experienced a miraculous healing lately. Dwayne was beyond being confused or even surprised at the events that were unfolding. He just added the blood to the list of strange occurrences.

Dwayne had many questions to ask when the time was ripe... but for now he determined to try for some sleep too. One thing the girl had said was that he was going to need sleep. Dwayne didn’t know what she meant by that but it sounded like there were trials ahead. Trials meant adventure and when you’ve been in a wheelchair for as long as Dwayne then any adventure is a good one. Still, Dwayne couldn’t help feeling a little uncomfortable as he looked around for somewhere to sleep.

There wasn’t much room on the tiny little yacht. Dwayne wriggled around. He stared out to sea; he was surrounded by water now. He found a pillow in the crest of Jasmine’s back and looked up at the stars. Being a scout for so many years, Dwayne wanted to know where they were. The position of the moon and the stars told him one thing- he was completely and utterly lost. Dwayne hoped Jasmine would be able to tell him where they were when she woke up. He nestled his head cozily into place and smiled. Not only were his legs completely healed, but Jasmine was okay. It was as though there had been an accident.

As Dwayne contemplated these things for a few moments he began to feel tired. Slowly the combination of the boat rocking and Jasmines breathing put into a deep sleep. Perhaps the best sleep he’d had in years...

TAG TO: JAKE

4

"It's too late. They know. We have to leave."
Although it was as if she were stating the obvious, the words cut deep as he began to comprehend the extent to which things had already progressed. He knew these things were inevitable but he could not have predicted its speed.
“Where? Where can we go? The hole?”
“No, the hole is too dangerous now. They will be all over it.”
“Then where?”
Both stood rigid as they heard someone approaching. With Dwayne’s father close in tow, the old man trudged up the path, his flash light scanning the low foliage around him.
She spoke once more. Softer now. “Follow me.”

The shadows of the boat shed enveloped them. A small yacht bobbed silently in the dock. Sails down. She hesitated momentarily before unsheathing a blade. In the darkness Dwayne went red as he mentally compared the blade with his pocket knife. A thought entering Dwayne’s mind around this point would have looked something like, ‘Since when did they start issuing those to scouts?’ or maybe, ‘Damn, she looks fine.’ Either way he had no time to contemplate such things as the pier came alive. He froze. Most people have two reactions to a threatening situation which they choose from instantaneously. Fight or flight. Dwayne had neither. A stunned mullet on the jetty.

He stayed like that well into the night, even once they were a good distance off shore. When he tried to apologies, she just shrugged. “You’re gonna have to start thinking quicker if you want to stay alive?
A bead of red seeped through the back of her shirt.
“Sleep.”
“What?” He stammered, still looking at her back.
“Sleep, you’re gonna need it.”
She placed a rig in the water then lay on her front with a finger under the nylon line and slept.
(Tag To Nick)

3

3

…recognize Dwayne’s age, if he had of done perhaps Dwayne would be toasting marshmallows right now with his father indoors.

Dwayne figured that there was no way the old man knew about his age... or about the miraculous healing that had taken place two days ago. There is a great amount of curiosity that comes with being a nineteen year old who hasn’t walked in two years. If the old man knew about such things would he have told Dwayne about the boat shed? Who knows? Maybe he did know! Whether or not the old man recognized his age was probably irrelevant, old men do what old men do and he did seem pretty keen to get Dwayne alone. Maybe he knew all too well... Dwayne thought about the way the old mans eyes lit up when Dwayne’s mother mentioned the photograph of the boy in the wheelchair. “Could the old man have received a similar healing experience as the one Dwayne received?” Dwayne shook his head and focused on the running... it was no time to fantasize; he had to tell his parents before the old man spoke to them.

Dwayne wondered what his parents would say when he arrived. Would they be mad? Probably not, they’d probably be in bed. They were exhausted and rightfully so; it’s not everyday your oldest child receives a miraculous healing. If they thought the media attention surrounding Dwayne’s accident at scout-camp was emotionally draining, it would be nothing compared to the hundreds of Aussie reporters wanting the first interview with Tassie’s favorite hero.

Dwayne laughed “...hero...” It was hard to do while running but he couldn’t help it. Dwayne didn’t see himself as a hero, not after the last two years in a wheelchair, two years reflecting on what really happened that night. And did this healing make him a hero? All Dwayne had done was opened a bloody letter...! He could see why his mum and dad wanted to get away for a holiday though; it really was all a little hard to process. Still, even his parents probably didn’t foresee what sort of “holiday” they were in for; otherwise the reporters might have been appealing. Dwayne hoped they were resting… if they were he would not interrupt them.

As he came up the pathway that led from the boat-shed to the shack Dwayne hoped that the old mans bicycle would not be present, that he would run up to the house and every light would be turned off, just as he left it. No such luck though! The old mans bike was not only present, but the old man and Dwayne’s father were engaged in a very long conversation outside, no doubt the one that Dwayne was hoping they would never have. He watched them converse as his father put his shoes on, they both had flashlights. This did not look good from Dwayne’s point of view, so he ducked behind a tree to catch his breath.

As Dwayne crouched behind the tree, he wondered what the old man had told his father. He also wondered what he would have told his father had he have been the first one home. Dwayne was confused, who was this old man anyway and why did he seem so interested in Dwayne? Dwayne shut his eyes and began to give up. No sooner had Dwayne shut his eyes though, and he felt a hand on his shoulder. Dwayne looked up and couldn’t believe what he saw. There, on this strange island, standing in front of Dwayne, was the last person Dwayne expected to ever see again.

She looked at him knowingly, like an old man knows a dog. She was drenched and muddy but Dwayne recognized her. After all they both shared a secret. Only they knew who the real hero was two years ago and she was standing there in front of Dwayne. “Where had she been?” Dwayne wondered. A better question might have been “...what was she doing there now?” Dwayne fumbled for words but she beat him to the punch. She spoke quickly, but with authority...

TAG TO: JAKE

2

…he tried to identify where it all began. The strange thing was, it didn’t start with these ethereal insects, hell, it probably didn’t even start with the boat. The first odd occurrences began shortly after he used his fathers Chinese letter opener to pierce the fleshy white envelope he had found in the attic addressed to himself. It was less than 48 hours ago yet the memory had become hazy. All he remembered was the nothingness that plagued the starch white paper. The noise. Then the sensation returning to his fingers. He would later liken the experience to that of dropping a sledgehammer on his toe. At first he yelped, then, once the initial shock had subsided, he marveled in this strange phenomenon he had not felt for two years. The blackened tips regained colour and soon he was able to individually wriggle each finger. The noise had gone unheard up until this point but it was not about to give up. It had captured the attention of countless people in the past and it wasn't about to fail now.

Obviously, he wasn’t to know this at the time, but if he had of been a bit worse for hearing, none of this would have happened. The hole would never have opened, the crew would still be onboard and his family would not be playing hopscotch on death’s door. In fact, if it wasn’t for Dwayne, a very different scenario may have taken place. A scenario involving a girl. A girl who had once been a scout like Dwayne but had since left for “bigger things”. Dwayne had only met her once but she knew him like an old man knows his dog. I suspect she also knew why he had been chosen over her. They knew, she knew, the only person who didn't know was Dwayne. I assume he knew very little at this point as to his purpose on the island. He was most likely still under the impression that this was a well earned holiday. The reasoning behind my assumptions are founded in the fact that he has made no attempt on his life as a well informed man might do in his situation. No, he probably won't know till it's to late and even then he won't fully understand. Its a pitty the old man didn't… (**Tag to Nick**)

1.

1.

The grey things kept coming at his head...

Dwayne felt sure that if he blinked they would leave in a second, just as they seemed to come out of nowhere the second he blinked. He blinked... Nope, it didn’t work- the grey things were still hovering. Dwayne didn’t even have a name for them.

Dwayne, the highest ranking squad leader in Tasmania knew every single creature and plant in the “Tasmanian Creature and Plant Manual”. Of course, it didn’t help much that Dwayne had left his manual at home... or that it was eleven at night... or that Dwayne was far from Tasmania and far, far away from home. He should never have come with his family to this strange island, even if it was for a vacation. Now Dwayne had strange, luminous, semi-opaque grey things with no name hovering around his head and no way of being able to out run the flamin’ things. If only he had listened to the old man and not been so damned curious...

“What was it the old man had said?” Duane tried to remember as he ducked for cover. “Something about not being ignorant of the spiritual realm... something about the old boat shed being haunted!” Duane shook his head; he didn’t believe in ghosts. He picked up a stick and waved it in the air. He picked up rocks to throw at the grey things but just like at school playing cricket he would miss with every throw. The grey things swooped towards his stick. “I may not believe in ghosts, but right now they seem to believe in me!” Duane hit one with his stick and it fell to the ground; that would show the old man. Duane ran over to pick it up, but to his horror he found that the grey thing had become little more than a fine grey dusty substance and if there was one thing that Dwayne had learned from the battery acid incident and that was never to pick up anything with your bare hands unless you are 100% sure you know what it is. He looked around. The grey things had gone. Dwayne ran back to where he came from, back to tell his parents before the old man did.

As Dwayne sprinted he couldn’t help but to think back over what had already been a crazy holiday. How he came to be on this strange island was beyond him... but of course Dwayne knew very well, and he knew that it was his fault. But could he have avoided what had happened over the last few days? Dwayne began to reflect...

(**TAG TO JAKE**)

Hey Jake... do we need rules?

Hey Jake,

I am really looking forward to beginning this storytelling exercise/experiment with you. Such a good idea of yours!

I'm thinking that before we begin we need to lay down some rules. Here are some that I suggest (add some if you like and then we'll make a official set of rules):

Rule #1
We must take turns of adding to the story, and may not pass when we are tagged.

Rule #2
We must notify the other person when they are tagged, either by message, myspace, email or sms. They then have 5 days* to add their contribution and tag us back

(*note- this 5 day period doesn't count if one of us are away on holiday or for other reasons)

Rule #3
We must totally work with anything new that the other person brings into the story. This means no blocking direction, character additions etc. If we want to change the plot direction it must flow creatively and if we want to get rid of a character it must be done organically and line up with the plot.

Rule #4
We will decide who starts next time we see each other by flipping a coin. This person will be given a list of 5-6 random words chosen by the other person that they must include in the first two or three paragraphs. From there our story-tag is underway.


What do you think? Are they good rules? Is there any others you can think of?