Never Forget part 4

The sudden blazing sound of an intercom crackled to life, shaking Jack of his restless sleep. He jolted up in fright, smashing his crown into the low ceiling holding the bed of his roommate resting above him. The red head winced in pain, held his head, but shortly, the intensity of the sound distracted him and he caught sight of tiny naked feet against smooth concrete, seeing the slender figures of exposed boys whom Jack once knew as classmates. Seeing this, the red head propped himself up on his elbow, still holding onto his head, all the while making sure he wouldn't touch the ceiling again; numbly wondering what the commotion was about. Within his bunk, he silently listened to those outside his claustrophobic bed, hearing and observing the softness of concern that his former hunters played out as they too listened to the overhead message that rang through the entire ship.

"Nearing land! All passengers must meet at the main deck!"

A pause of confusion, the awkward misunderstanding of the message, that hiatus of thought progress: no one twigged what they just heard. Eyes blinked and looked around at their fellow roommates, trying to trade knowledge through other's eyes. But with sour luck, they decided, unsupervised, to all shuffle out of the room, out into the corridor where they also noticed a mutual confusion as a few kids they knew from the island spilled through the hallway, peeking their noses round, further attempting to meet knowing eyes. With this rush of leave, Merridew himself joined them shortly in a composed manner, seeing as though something important may be arising at the mentioned main deck. He swept into the crowd of his peers he formerly knew well and followed their stream toward the far end of the hall, where they had entered on the first day of rescue. A few boys bumped into Jack's shoulder blindly, having their attention completely fixed onto furthering their understanding of the situation. It was all just curiosity, in a way, and as they all had reached the slenderness of the metallic stairwell that led up to the second floor, Jack had been slightly muscled through the doorway, continuing to follow the crowd into another rounded door that welcomed them outside.

In an unsupervised attempt, a few young and anxious boys went up to the door in need of answers and flung open the obstruction, letting a blast of cold, raspy air crash into their faces, sending them to falter back a little at the surprise. When that was out of the way, everyone lined out one-by-one in an unexpectedly uniform manner, with no adult present to organize the action – and they only followed much later as the clump of kids began to all gather round to the main deck. They simply charted along as heavy wind tackled the skin of their scalp; not really attempting to touch any of the boys that went about on their own accord. Their presence seemed more of a duty on the ship, than duty for escort.

Jack Merridew followed through the dynamic crowd; curious about the wonders of what is the mystery at the main desk they were narrowing toward. He couldn't help but notice, however slight or vague, for all the boys that surround him: there was a boy, familiar as Roger, a bent child, a bully; Jack's closest hunter. His hair was long and black – it resembled the night of sky that pardoned a new moon. His skin was dark from over exposure. With him, he didn't seem too interested in where he was going, much like Jack. However, with Jack, his attention immediately cut short when another shoulder bumped into his: and it was no ordinary shoulder owned by a former hunter of his. It was a shoulder owned by a kid, or a rebel, with familiar fair hair. Merridew's eyes widened in astonishment and in quieted vain as he noticed the boy falter in the crowd of children who had once goaled to destroy him. The boy faltered and lacked behind, appearing as if he didn't want to be impeded. He seemed rushed, as if he was aware of Merridew's presence: his head stressfully craned upward, peeking out over the crowd that he so easily towered by his eldest age, wanting desperately to see his way through a crack between the bodies. All this presented itself in front of Jack who carefully watched with a face made of stone. The observer thought the observed as ridiculous: they were all to end up in the same area and henceforth needed not to communicate with Merridew. There was already a goal set up, and that was not to get there the quickest and furthest away from a disliked person. The red head was tempted to grab the boy by his arm and bark that in his face, but then he decided not to – not when adults were around: he wasn't on the island anymore.

Soon enough, the crowd of boys slowed to a stop, people bumping into each other and then peeking round to see why that was. Then a man – the same man from the first day with the hairy upper lip – standing erect (like usual), high above everyone's heads, looking sternly out at the distance as if the land in sight was his wife. Besides the appearance, he was only waiting, waiting for his rowdy passengers to gather round in an orderly fashion in front of him. He waited until all eyes were on him to capture his cue. However, it took ages: the thick crowd of boys, drained of etiquette, had no more understandings to regulations such as the one they faced now. When the commander realized progress would never reach full completion expeditiously, he decided to further it along as quickly as he could. In a loud and authoritative voice, the commandant rang out for attention in a small burst of speech to the children set in front of him. Once he did this, everyone snapped their widened eyes at him, as if they just noticed his presence. Fear obscured their pre-pubescent faces as they swayed about on their feet, not wanting to touch the boy next to him.

"Alright, now that I have your attention,"

The commandant began strongly to gain their full attention, "I would like to begin this gathering of all of you to inform you that land has been spotted: it is what we were heading for to release you children back onto the land where you belong. That land as we all know, love, and respect; as the United Kingdom."

At those two words, all the boys perked up, knowing that that was their birthplace, home, and the harbor to their families. Families that wait for them with tearful smiles of gratitude plastered on their faces, joyful to once again see their child whom they had lost what seemed like many years ago.

"We've contacted with our base and they connected with your families that were available. Again, we thank you for your time spent on our surveys back in the beginning: 'Twas a great help: to be much beneficial to you all."

Before anything, the crowd of boys cheered in ununiformed screams and yells, similar to the sound of a pig excited for a meal. Even Jack smiled a little, though it was small for the realization struck him. He was bubbling.

"As you might have predicted: they will be all waiting for your arrival upon shore. That will be all. Carry on."

No one was listening at that point: they all began to scatter round the ship's deck or returned back to their rooms like a ton of released balloons. They were happy, excited, and best of all, lusty for the shore. The only faces they really yearned to see now were those of their parents. Up until now did the faces of every boy they once knew as their peer in school or their old friend from choir turned sour. However, Jack wasn't tired of any of it. He wasn't even all that excited, if he were to be honest: the thought of seeing his parents for the first time in a long time would be hell right on the shore. Already Jack could predict what might happen: get off the boat and see his family knowing of what he had done on the island. They'd be disappointed. Jack would be disappointed. He wasn't tired of these boys. He actually wanted to stay a little bit longer, even if they wouldn't want to talk to him, like someone waiting for an answer on the end of a dead phone call.

Jack Merridew stood at the peak of the main deck, lightly grasping the handrail of the ship. The weather had changed since the naval commander's informative speech, in which clouds began to form loosely and sop. The patter of rain felt soft against his skin, yet Merridew did not notice, for he had his eyes fixed on the nearing island of civilization. It was a dreaded place of authority, much taller than he was. While he expected a great frown from the mouth of his father and mother, he imagined them waiting for their son at the shore, ready to wiggle a finger at him. In spite of this, Merridew himself frowned at this outcome set within his mind as his long, strawberry-red hair whipped in the heavily lapping breeze and the gradual dip in the ship that rose up rather high, crashing back down onto the hard surface of the water. There was a great slash down below, but far too miniscule to reach Merridew's lofty post. The roaring noise, however, flooded his ears and he finally felt distracted for the first time.

The sun was blinding, although the flaming disk shielded itself with the ever-looming clouds that wanted to cry harder, making the sky appear as if Jack was peering straight into the gates of heaven. It felt nice, but he knew that it wouldn't last long. He blinked his attention away back to the shore, but quickly ricocheted to the handrail his reddening hands gripped so coldly. His eyes were a little disgusted, knowing the backstory of which the fingers and palm went through. Once again, Merridew departed his gaze across the metal pole, furthering his attention to the right where the sky far off into the distance gloomed and swirled as the other side of the deck held another boy from the island around Jack's age. At first, the red head figured it had to be that hunter named Maurice. However, the boy's hair was not brown like the boy's: it was several shades lighter, like beams from the sun. His figure was facing the sea, displaying that familiar tallness with broadened features, similar to that of a boxer. His outline wasn't pudgy like a boy of ten, but rather emaciated though slightly lean. Jack's blue stare couldn't be ripped away. Although for a moment, every name he knew slipped out his ears; he couldn't recognize the boy standing a mere five yards thither. The fair hair and almost skeletal figure was of familiarity: Merridew knew this child. The name pinched the tip of his parched tongue. This puzzle was so stupid! He knew this child!

As his thoughts began to bombard his mind, Merridew did not notice the first flit of eye movement to his observed person. They had moved up slowly from the horizon and turned over to the left, risking the spine to twist, only to see in return the mutual blue stare of Jack's. Immediately realizing this with the lock of their eyes, Merridew pulled away to watch the opposite horizon. His yellow teeth bit his lips and his spheres searched for an obvious distraction. The rain began to fall harder. The wind blew harsher. The sun was eaten by clouds. The waves raced for the nearing of the shore. Oh look: shore.