Games

“What is your problem? It is only a storm.”

“I don't like being stranded. I don't like it at all.”

“The weather service said it is a fast moving storm. The ferry will be running again in the morning. No big deal.”

“Figures the storm would come as we are leaving the island for the season.”

“Everything is done. The hotel is closed. Relax, let’s just make a party out of it. I still have the key to the bar.” He dangled his master key in front of Sean's face.

Sean shook his head, “I just don't know. Something about this storm, being isolated out here, just kind of spooks me.”

The front door to the lobby flew open and three young women barged in.

Gina came up to Sean, “Why so serious?”

“He's afraid of the little big bad storm,” Bill mocked in a horrible intimation of a child's voice.

“Here's the plan,” Bill threw Sean the key to the bar. “You go and pick out some libations for the evening. Gina, you, Sherrie and Nina find some food for us in the kitchen. They store canned food in case fishermen get stranded here during the winter.”

“I will go out and get us some firewood.”

The girls headed out to the kitchen. They picked through and chose some canned meats, vegetables and fruits. Sean came back with an armload of half empty bottles and a couple bottles of wine. Gina was stoking the fire while Sheila and Nina were opening cans. Gina looked at the bottles, “Paper cups, ladies we forgot cups.”

“I know where there are some.” Nina turned and was gone down the hall.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for a cork screw.” Sean held up a bottle of wine. “You need a nice red to go with that canned spiced meat product.” As he rummaged through his backpack a pistol fell out on to the floor.

“Why do you have that?”

“I won it in a poker game from one of the locals. I figure I can pawn it for some cash once we get off the island.”

The wind whistling alongside the building and the ever present occasional bursts of lightening made Sean nervous. “Hey, where is Bill?”

“He went to get firewood.”

“Yeah, well that was about an hour ago.”

Sheila looked around the room, “Where's Nina?”

Gina looked around, “Okay, now I am officially getting scared”. On cue a lightening bolt lit up the room hitting so close that the building, the room shook and Sean's close cropped hair rose a bit on his head.

Sheila whispered, “Guys, you think maybe it might be a good idea if we all went together to search for Bill and Nina?”

“Okay, sounds good to me. Grab your coats and flashlights lets check on Bill first.”

In the rain, in the dark it was hard to see. Out back by the woodshed, the ax used to splinter logs was stuck in the block, something dark dripping along its edge. The blue light from a flash of lightening confirmed what they all thought.

“That's blood,” Gina screamed.

Sean huddled them all together and steered them back in to the hotel. “Where's Nina? She is the only one of us missing.”

“She went for cups.”

“Okay, let's go find her.”

Sheila began to weep, “I was supposed to meet his family next week. I can't believe he's gone.”

“We don't know that yet.”

Sheila plopped down on chair covered over in an old sheet. Sean handed her a bottle of Merlot that he had opened earlier. “Sit here and have a drink, while Gina and I go look for Nina.”

“No cups?”

“Just have a drink, we'll be right back.”

The butler's pantry was located in the back of the hotel past the kitchen. “No Nina here. Maybe she went in to the kitchen.”

It was Gina that noticed the large cleaver wedged in to the chopping block covered in the same dark liquid as the ax. She screamed, “Oh my god, we left Sheila by herself.”

Back in the lobby Sheila was gone. The sheet covered chair she was sitting on was covered in dark red stains.

Gina looked at him, they hugged. “We just need to stay awake. If we make it through the night everything will be fine.”

The two of them wrapped themselves in a sleeping bag. Sitting in front of the fire, they ate cold meat from a can, some peaches and shared drinks from a bottle of bourbon. Soon Gina fell asleep laying her head on Sean's shoulder. The bourbon, the mental exhaustion, the heat from the fire lulled Sean to sleep as well.

When he woke he was by himself. On the wood floor at his feet Gina had scratched the words “help me, help us all” with the lid from one of the cans. What was left of the storm was still banging its way across the island.

Sean tucked the pistol in his belt. He searched the lobby, the butler's pantry, the kitchen and then went outside to the wood pile. Sitting down in the rain of the weakening storm, he fondled the revolver.

The shot startled some gulls and other sea birds that had taken refuge on the island during the storm. They took flight, circled and then settled back down.

Bill was first to reach him. The gun was still smoking, lying next to Sean's lifeless body. The bullet had torn open a large hole in the side of his head. Brains, blood and goo seeped out in to the wet ground. He turned and stopped the girls from seeing Sean's body. Falling to his knees he vomited. Looking up at the cloudy sky, he shook his fists, “It was a joke, a prank. Damn it. It was just a joke.”