Survival of the Strongest (Re-Write)

Survival of the Strongest

I lay quiet. My eyes squeezed shut. The silence bearing down on me is a physical presence. My mind is whirling with thoughts, pictures, ideas and sounds. They collide with each other in my head. No start and no finish. I sense movement around me. My ever-present anger builds within. How dare anyone do this to me! Prying apart my gummed eye lids, I can just make out two man-like shadows materializing with the strengthening light. A noise intrudes into the stillness; subdued, but pervasive. It is a cross between the slow clockwork tick of a metronome and a rhythmic thud of a heartbeat. The level of light increases enough for me to examine my confederates in more detail. We are dressed in a similar fashion.  Blue long- sleeved shirt, faded jeans and ankle high walking boots.  The other two could have been brothers; blond hair, green eyes and pale skin. We scrutinize each other, with laser like intensity, as if our lives depend on it. Without knowing why, I realize this is true.
I spring to my feet to face them, incensed by a rage I know not from where.

“Who the hell are you? Why have you brought me here?

My voice comes out scratchy and dry from lack of use. The taller and more muscular of the two strides forward making conciliatory gestures with his hands.

“Calm down. I’m Michael. I've no idea how I came to be here either. It’s probably best if we stick together for the time being and try to focus our energies on finding the way out of here.”

He says this with surety, energy and affability; I hate him. No one tells me what to do.  He thrusts out his hand in greeting; I ignore it and turn towards the other.
He is no more than a boy. His arms wrap tight around his legs, which he pulls into his chest. He raises his face and blurts out an undecipherable word and lowers his head onto his knees.

“He says his name is Sammy,” Michael offered.

The two of us stand looking at each other; lost in our own thoughts. Sammy sits huddled on the floor.

I grunt in the general direction of the others…“My name is Simon”.


“SAMMY, ARE YOU THERE? CAN YOU ANSWER ME?”


The ear shattering voice issues from the very air itself. Two of us jump at the unexpectedness of the noise; the third of us closes ever more into a fetal ball. Michael takes a stand in front of him and looks around for any physical threat. I stand to the side and glare at everything around me.
The question is repeated with no reduction in volume.

Michael yells into the air, “Sammy’s trapped in here with us. He can’t speak at the moment. He’s terrified.”

I don’t know if the voice is aware of Michael or not. The only noise I can hear is the steady beat which has been present since I woke.


“SAMMY I’M TRYING TO GET TO YOU, BUT YOU MUST COME PART OF THE WAY.”


Someone is coming to help us; Sammy, at least. If there is a way out, I’m the one taking it. Michael has Sammy on his feet and is herding him towards the upward incline of the tunnel exiting the cavern. I follow behind. The overhead lights come on as we progress and those behind dim and fade to nothing. We move forward within a self-contained bubble of light.


I don’t know how long we travel.  Seconds pass like minutes; minutes like hours. There is little change in our surroundings. A rocky, debris scattered pathway climbing to freedom. That’s what I tell myself. I am isolated and alone. The other two blend together into a cohesive unit. Each draws from the other to find the strength and the will to go on. Michael is the stronger and therefore the more dangerous to me. He has assumed guardianship over the weaker lad and I hope that will be his Achilles. I trail at the back, watching their every move. I look for any advantages that I may find useful later. Let them solve the problems we encounter. I am going to get out, no matter what the cost to those around me. We continue climbing.


    Michael, who is of course leading the way comes to an abrupt halt and kneels. He tries to lower the exhausted boy, but he just crumples to the ground. Michael moves forward and signals me to join him. This annoys me. Who appointed him leader? I control the rising bile that threatens to erupt. I drop and crawl forward on my stomach to ascertain the impasse that is in front of us. The floor of the tunnel has collapsed and left a gaping crevasse. Even with the lights, nothing can be seen except for the inky blackness below. It may as well be bottomless. I spy a small ledge which circumnavigates the chasm. It varies in width; as narrow as six inches and as wide as a foot. It provides a chance. We return to Sammy and Michael tells him of what we now face.


Michael instinctively steps forward when a volunteer is needed. Who am I to deny him? It’s a ‘win, win’ situation for me. If he manages to find a safe way, I’m one step closer to getting out. If he fails, there’s one less person for me to worry about. With his back pressed hard against the rugged wall of the tunnel, Michael inches his way along the rock shelf. One foot slides forward inch by inch, clearing the debris into the gaping maw of the pit. The sounds of the falling rubble recede into nothingness. He accesses the far side with little difficulty and turns to face us.

“Sammy, you come next. Just take your time and you’ll have no problem.”

Sammy lifts his head. Looks at Michael on the far side; looks at the ledge, shudders and shakes his head. Not a word is spoken. I curl my lip in a sneer. The little coward's true colors' are becoming apparent. With a look of disgust, I step past him and manoeuvre my way across.

A mantra plays over and over in my mind...“Don’t look down and I will survive. Don’t look down and I will survive.”

Again and again and again, until Michael's hands grab my arm and swing me forward. The anger which is always with me flares once more. I do not like to be man-handled.
I turn to Michael, but he is on his way back to Sammy’s side with all the aplomb of someone walking the center of a four lane highway.

Bending over Sammy’s recumbent form, he whispers to him; “Come on Sammy, we’re on the final leg. I’m sure of it. Just one more effort and we’ll be on our way out. You can do it. You know I’m always here for you.”

Sammy looks up into Michael's eyes and reassurance, trust and strength pass between them. Michael helps him to his feet. Once more he begins to cross. He clutches Sammy’s hand in a death like grip. They reach the half-way point when from the very air and rock comes that unknown voice.


"I’M GOING TO TRY SOMETHING DIFFERENT TO GET THROUGH TO YOU. KEEP TRYING SAMMY."


Silence fills the void. A delicate crystalline silence which echoes a sense of fragility and that you know cannot last. The whole world holds its breath. Everything is still. The end that you know is coming… begins. My very essence is shaken by an onslaught of sound and vibration. The light which we have taken for granted, flickers and dies. The very earth rises and falls with the mad gyrations of a bucking horse. I lay winded on the ground. As it starts, so does it finish; with silence.
I look back to where Michael and Sammy had been. They have disappeared from sight. Elation rises within me. I have survived.  I look over the edge. Hanging from one hand wedged into a crack in the wall is Michael. The limp form of Sammy dangles from the other.

“The ever vigilant protector and guardian of the weak,” I mutter to myself.

Michael spies me and sings out, “Simon. Simon. You've got to help us!”

I look at them and stay silent. Pleasant scenarios play out in my mind. My raising a rock and smiling as I bring it smashing down on his unsuspecting head is one that catches my attention. Two birds with one stone. His hand is in reach. I do not move.

“Simon, I can’t hold on. I know you won’t be able to lift both of us, but you might be able to help Sammy.”

I can hear the strain in his voice. He is finding it harder and harder to maintain his grip on the semi-conscious form below him. Gazing into Michael’s face, I sense that he has always protected the boy and shielded him from whatever the world has thrown at him. It is obvious to me, that Sammy will soon have to fend for himself. Something shudders deep inside of me. I don’t know why, but I reach down. His eyes lock with mine. He takes a deep breath and tenses. Strain etches itself across his face and beads of sweat burst from his forehead. His face under goes a chameleon change of colors as it transcends from bright red into the purple spectrum. The boy starts to rise up to meet me. Michael's breathing becomes deeper, heavier and faster. He drags in large amounts of oxygen to fuel the last super human effort of a dying body. Sammy is now flapping around like a fish out of water. One hand flails out and I grasp it. I hold him steady. Michaels eyes lock once more and I garner a sense of fulfillment; his whole body relaxes and falls. I listen, but do not hear his body strike as it disappears from sight.

“Bye, bye Michael,” I whisper.

The boy is below me. His pale face is turned in my direction. The pupils are open so wide; black moons against the whites of his eyes. His mouth is open and a low, almost sub sonic keening issues forth. I draw his limp body up and lay it on the ground. Once there, he struggles to his knees and peers over the edge; searching for any signs of life.


"WHEN YOU SEE THE LIGHT MAKE YOUR WAY TO IT. SAMMY, IT IS IMPORTANT ONLY YOU SURFACE. ONLY YOU MUST GET OUT."


With that pronouncement echoing around me, I get to my feet, raise my foot and with a sense of freedom and release, I put it into the middle of Sammy’s back and push.

I scream out exultantly, “Bye, Bye Sammy.”

The last I see of him is his wildly wind milling arms as he plunges into the abyss. The overhead lights flare into incandescent fury causing my senses to overload and submerge into blessed oblivion. 


I lay quiet. My eyes squeezed shut. I show no sign of my awareness, but I can sense the padded restraints on my wrists holding me immobile against the bed. I hear the steady beat of the heart monitor performing its reassuring cadence. Where am I? What’s happening to me? Do they know what I did? After my ordeal in the caverns, is this why I’m being restrained? I was just protecting myself. Self-preservation is a strong emotion. It’s not evil to want to survive. I hear footsteps approaching. Not one set, but many. They enter my room and start to discuss my case. I listen to a deep authoritative voice which sounds familiar. I fake unconsciousness.


“In this room, we have Mister Sam Stevens. He is a Court appointed referral. He has since been diagnosed with a Dissociative Identity Disorder. Who can explain to me what DID is?”  There is silence. With an exasperated tone in his voice he calls upon one of the others in the room.

“Ogilvie, can I have your thoughts, please.”

He mumbles, “Well Doctor Brooks, I believe it’s a disorder in which a person has at least two other enduring personalities.”

“Correct. Barnes, continue.”

“It’s thought that they take control of that person’s behavior alternately,” says another voice.

“That’s right. His main identity is Sammy; an everyday, functioning personality, who is able to cope with the normalcy of life. If events become too tense or stressful, Michael, a protector or guardian persona who is basically everything that is good, strong and positive, appears.”

A female voice interrupts. “Doctor Brooks. Is there any reason to worry about this patient if he is functioning at such a high degree? He surely could manage quite well in society as he is.”

“If there were the two, I would agree with you, my dear. But there is a third personality. Simon. He is the antithesis of the other. When the ‘good’ appears, the ‘bad’ follows. The third personality verges on the evil. His rage knows no bounds. Combine this with an analytic nature and lack of empathy and you have a very dangerous and amoral personality. He feels any and all of his actions are justified and self-gratification at the expense of others is one his primary goals. If not for this man’s medical condition being recognized, he would now be serving time in jail for his actions.”


    Can this be me they’re talking about, I wonder. I never considered myself evil. I have done harmful things, but I regret none of these actions. In fact I believe strength comes from doing unto others, before they do unto you. Should I be punished for this?

“What measures have been taken to help Mister Stevens?” inquires another female voice.

“Over a period of time, we have been using psychotropic drugs, hypnosis and electro shock therapy. The culmination of the treatments has led to a fusion of both the Sammy and Michael personas and the removal of Simon to form a new personality. Sam. We hope that with the proper therapy afterwards, he will once again be able to re-join society.”

His voice resonates with confidence and pride as he makes this pronouncement.
My ears prick up and the wheels begin to turn in my mind.
I think it is time to make them aware of my presence.  I open my eyes and yawn. I look around at the surprised group. Doctor Brooks is the first to recover.

“Welcome back, Sam,” he says with a smile.

Grinning, I turn my head and focus upon his face. My eyes look deep into his and I see a flicker of uncertainty and concerns appearing.
A chuckle escapes my lips.

“Thank you Doctor. My mind feels much lighter now. I’m looking forward to my new life.”

I can no longer suppress my joy. My chuckles become stronger and stronger, until I am laughing uproariously.

Life is good.