Chapter Text
Ralph had long since let go of all attempt to stay quiet, crashing through the undergrowth on raw, red legs, desperately swallowing lungfuls of air.
Branches and thorns whipped him cruelly, blood trickled down his arms and legs - hot and oozing. The chase was getting to him now - sweat plastered strands of blonde hair to his sticky forehead as he continued to sprint.
He quickly glanced behind him at his relentless pursuer and bit back a yelp as he realised just how close Jack was. His lithe body was painted in stark, red tiger stripes, flaming russet curls spilling over his freckled forehead.
He was a hunter, no doubt about it. A frenzied, unstoppable force of nature. He no longer had to pretend to be so strong and savage. Jack had become what he had always wanted to be - chaos in human form.
“What, are you going to run forever? Come on, just face me, you spineless bastard!”
It didn’t sound very convincing. The words were broken up by heavy gasps of air. There was no doubt now that Jack was as tired as Ralph. Ralph let a triumphant grin creep onto his face as he called out his response, still hurtling forward.
“I’ll face you if you can ever catch up to me!”
Adrenaline coursed through his body with renewed fervour. He was almost safe now - just a few more trees and he would be out of the dense forest and free to scale the rock face leading to his makeshift home. Jack, realising this, also made an attempt to speed up, but his legs were already flaming with the strain of how hard he was running.
Ralph heard the sounds of panting behind him slowly pull back as he gained ground, breaking through the tightly-knit tree line and heading for the jagged wall of stone in front of him.
The face of a mountain cut into the horizon, a grey giant against the electric blue sky. Skeletal trees clung to some edges, but the jagged shard was generally sparse. Despite this, there were ample footholds for a confident climber to make use of.
Ralph threw himself onto the first ledge with far too much force - all the oxygen slammed out of his chest at once, and he was left gasping like a fish out of water. Still, he managed to haul himself up a safe distance before he heard a shout from behind him.
“Yeah, that’s right! Hide away on your little hill. I’ll only catch you tomorrow!”
The words landed on Ralph’s ears with grating harshness. He took a second to haul in air before responding,
“Why wait ‘till tomorrow? I’m right here. Are you really too scared to come up and get me?”
Jack paced around the base of the rock like a wasp in a jar. It was almost funny - he was acting as if he was the one trapped.
A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over Ralph like a weighted blanket as adrenaline began to wear off.
“Come on Jack, it’s over. Run along back to your camp, I’ll still be here tomorrow.”
Ralph shakily got to his feet, eyes trained on the other boy the whole time. Jack watched him back, similar weariness reflected in his own eyes. His grip on his spear was weak. He could throw it, if he really wanted to, but both boys had reached their daily truce - the game of cat and mouse was over for today. Try again next time.
Ralph slowly turned to continue scaling the mountain face, shaky hands tiredly finding places to grip. He hauled his sore body up a few more feet.
Usually by this point, he would look down to see that Jack had slunk away into the trees like a wild cat. Such was their routine.
And usually by this point, Ralph would realise that no matter how hostile Jack was, his only company had gone. And he would realise every day how much he actually enjoyed their regular spats. Isolation, Ralph figured, could do that to a person.
His musings were interrupted by a low cough from below him. It was quiet, but it was enough to startle Ralph to lose his footing. He scrambled to regain it, bristling at the laughter that began to rise from below. On second thoughts, he would definitely do just fine without seeing Jack on a daily basis. Loneliness was infinitely better than dealing with this loon.
“What do you want, you dick?”
Ralph didn’t disguise the annoyance in his tone. He was injured, and tired, and would kill for a proper meal. Mango was getting VERY tedious.
“Come back to our camp.”
Ralph froze. There was no sarcasm in Jack’s voice, but there was no way he was going to fall for his tricks that easily.
“Oh yeah? And I suppose, while I’m at it, I might as well slit my own throat and climb into the fire myself?”
Jack huffed in annoyance like a petulant child. While he was a lot stronger physically, not a huge amount had changed about his demeanour.
“I’m serious. Look, I’ll even forgive you for everything you’ve done.” The boy glanced down as if he knew what he was saying was bullshit.
The blonde’s mouth hung open. Oh, this was rich.
“I don’t think I’m the one who needs forgiving, if I’m honest. One of us is a murderer and it isn’t me.”
This was beginning to piss Ralph off. Jack’s childishness - his refusal to take responsibility - was what drove them all apart in the first place.
Without another word, he turned back to the rock face and continued to climb.
Jack stayed silent.
***********
Upon reaching shelter, Ralph promptly collapsed. The place he now called home was a crop of grass nestled between a patch of mango trees.
The blonde was pleased with his choice of spot - he was well out of the way of any hunters, but still had his own food supply. A little way away, a bubbling stream flowed down the mountain, running into the glittering ocean.
The structure he had built was simple, but stable. A hut constructed mainly from driftwood was tucked into the edge of the settlement. It was not quite tall enough to stand in, but it had solid walls and plenty of leaves and moss inside to form a pretty comfortable bed.
In the centre of the clearing was a well used fire pit with a pile of firewood stacked haphazardly nearby. Ralph was careful not to light fires during the day, for fear of his smoke being spotted. Although, sometimes he wondered - Jack knew exactly which mountain he was on. Why had no hunters come to finish what they started all those years ago? He was sure that Roger would be salivating to have his head on a stick.
Maybe they’ve all moved on, or they don’t care anymore. Maybe to them he’s nothing more than the ghost of a past tribe boy.
He sure feels like a ghost sometimes.
Ralph stared up at the sky as startling blue began to soften into pink and orange hues, that bathed his hideout in a beautiful glow.
The only person he had seen in almost five years was Jack, and Jack hated his guts. It was a wonder that he hadn’t completely lost his marbles. Although sometimes, when he’s out in the forest and he catches a fleeting glimpse of Piggy, head soaked in blood, or Simon, riddled with stab wounds, in his peripheral - he feels like he might be missing one or two.
Ralph blinked away the disturbing turn his wonderings had taken and thought back to the strange interaction he had earlier today.
The offer of being taken back into the tribe had thrown him so off course that he had practically ran away - without even considering the reasons behind Jack’s statement. The most obvious conclusion was that it was a trap. Lure him in with meat and drums and companionship, and then take his life.
But part of him still couldn’t shake how genuine the fiery red-head seemed.
Those piercing blue eyes had held nothing but truthfulness.