Part 64: More Theories

With the clanking of the sheathed sword and the Kendo Stick, Seth and Brendon continued to practice, honing their skills. Seth had worked up a sweat, practicing all the moves his Asian friend taught him. Brendon was highly impressed at the rate Seth was learning. It was almost if he had a natural adapting ability. Seth then thrust down, while Brendon blocked it, turning around and landing the sword on the back of his neck. The young man froze, when realized had this been an actual fight, he would have had his head cut off. “Never over extended your blows.” Brendon taught him.

“Yes, sir.” Seth chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You are doing remarkably well, Seth. Had I not known better, I would have assumed you were a swordsman before.”

“Naw, like I said, you’re an excellent teacher.”

“And once again, I thank you.” He bowed before him.

As the two friends paused, they took their towels and wiped their sweat. Seth yawned, as he was growing tired. Brendon rested his sword on his shoulder. He decided to stop practice and show his friend a unique skill. “Seth, do you have any idea how old this sword is?” he commented.

“You said it’s been in your family for nine generations.” Seth sighed, “I ain’t sure how long that is.”

“Five hundred and four years to be exact.” Brendon smiled.

Seth whistled at that response.

“To maintain it’s sharpness and strength, the sword had to be worked on all that time. Swords makers would graft the metal, making it incredibly sharp. Here, I’ll show you.”

Brendon began walking toward the jungle with Seth in tow. The two friends walked along the sand until the reached of the outcroppings of trees. The Asian turned to his friend, finally unsheathing the sword. “Repeat after me, Seth, “ he smiled, “Kiai.”

“Key-ya?” Seth said, trying to pronounce it right.

“That’s it, Kiai.”

“Kiai,” the young man agreed, “Okay, what does that mean?”

“Kiai is a samurai spirit shout. Whenever you make your mightiest blows, you scream Kiai to let the spirits know, this is me. I am making this strike.”

“Interesting,” Seth approved.

“Watch.”

Brendon turned and placed the sword against one of the trees. He closed his eyes and exhaled. Quickly, he thrust his sword back over his head. “KIAI!” he screamed, as he swung it through the tree.

Seth blinked. He saw no wood splinters and he didn’t hear any wood breaking. After a few seconds, he then heard the cracking of the palm tree giving in under it’s own weight. It started to sway to the left, and then crash to the ground. The young man blinked as his Asian friend smiled, placing the sword back into the scabbard. Seth walked over to the newly created tree stump. He rubbed his head on the smoothness of the stump, plus it was warm. “Whoa, Brendon, “ Seth stuttered, “I . . I . . .I have no words for this. I am speechless.”

“One day, you will be able to make such a blow.” Brendon smiled.

“One day, maybe. But not for a few years.” Seth admitted.

The two friends then began to walk back toward the beach. It was slowly creeping into twilight as the sun was descending below the horizon. Shanna was still rocking to Seth’s tape player. Mia was combing her hair, sitting cross-legged on her blanket. Seth and Brendon came over, sitting down at their designated areas. Shanna leaned up from her sleeping bag, “How goes the sword play?”

“Seth is a remarkable learner.” Brendon patted him on the shoulder, “In time, I have no doubt that he will one day surpass me as a swordsman.”

“Dude, stop it, you’re making me blush,” Seth playfully pushed him.

Mia continued to comb her hair, getting all the tangles out. She was able to hear her friends talking but her thoughts were elsewhere. She thought of the body she and John had found. Not a single bit of it made sense. Why hang a man blindfolded? She wondered if he had any eyes. Was that why he was blindfolded? But Tony was the same way, due to his injuries during the crash. Was it coincidence that they find a dead man blindfolded and Tony is also blindfolded? No, it had to be coincidence. The most disturbing aspect of finding the body was the fact that he had a gun. Why killed an ARMED man? “MIA!” Seth screamed.

“Wha?” she said, turning abruptly.

“Geez, girl,” Shanna giggled, “What planet were you one just then?”

“Sometimes I wonder.” The Lakota girl replied.

“Oh, great. She’s wondering about the island again.”

“Don’t do that, Seth. Don’t fight me on this. How much more proof do you need that something is weird about this place?”

“How about something I can see with both my eyes? If I see it, then I’ll start believing it.”

“What about the guy that was at the waterfall?” she pointed out.

“WHAT GUY?? We didn’t see anything. All we heard was a few clicks and that could have been anything. The wind! Some animal we haven’t seen yet. You are reading too much into this, Mia.”

“Really?” she said, slightly angry, “Then how about this? John and I were discussing something strange about what happened to the dead people.”

“What about them?” asked Shanna.

“Have you noticed that the three dead people all had something in common? They were all not team players.”

“Explain,” Brendon said, getting interested.

“Poteet, Calhoon and Underwood. They were all disruptive in some way. Poteet was an alcoholic and wouldn’t share the Vodka with Tony, which could have cost him his life. Then Poteet dies by the hand of the monster. Calhoon was with holding food from the rest of us, then gets his head ripped off by a Polar Bear. Then Underwood, who did nothing but complain about his constipation and not help out around here. Then he just up and died from a brain affliction. They were all disruptive in some way.”

“You’re saying they died because they are not like the rest of us?” Shanna asked, “Because they didn’t band together like we did?”

“That is exactly what I am saying.” Mia pointed to her red headed friend.

“Assuming this is correct, Mia, there is a flaw in your theory,” Seth piped in.

“And what might that be, non-believer?”

“If those guys died because they were disruptive, then why isn’t Cecil dead?” he pointed behind him.

Mia looked over to the old man. He was resting on his suitcase pile, smoking a cigarette, which he paused to cough for a few seconds. Bernard walked over to talk to him and the Lakota girl could tell he was making jokes of some kind. She rubbed her cheek and whispered, “Maybe it’s not his time yet.”

“What does that mean?” asked Seth.

“Maybe . . .maybe he must face something before he can be allowed to died.”