Chapter 6

IN THE MORNING, THE ARROGANCE of Michiko Kuwaye was gone, battered out of her during the long and arduous night. As she came from Zell's hut, she moved uncertainly, holding the torn remnants of her dress to her bruised and clawed body. Her shoulders were slumped, and she averted her face from us.

I took a quick check of the other women, and read several emotions into their watching eyes. Ella Martin showed compassion, as did Mary Tetson. With shame for their own, the Japanese had looked quickly away. Faye Herman mixed superiority with envy, and others showed fear, expectancy, or pure hate.

Zell came out and stood wide-legged, grinning as he scratched his matted chest. Stalking to the hollowed log that served as a washing place, he plunged thick arms into the cold water and threw it over head an shoulders, snorting and wallowing.

Still dripping, he strutted to Mary and took the plate she held out for him. Breakfast was the inevitable stew-this time young pork laced with long-boiled palm hearts and salted with sea water. It was palatable, barely, but Zell chewed and smacked with gusto. He was swiftly finished, and squatted on his haunches to lay out the day's program.

"Mixon," he grunted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "you stick to the wood supply, and when that's caught up, chop bamboo."

Mutely, Danny nodded. I felt a flare of anger at him, knowing that he shouldn't do anything to irritate Zell, but nonetheless angry because he took orders so meekly.

"Rest of you," Zell continued, "Stay with the salt and food. I'm gonna' go check the snares, I set yesterday, and get after the big red pig I run across. Might get a fight outta' that one, better than the battle that black boar put up. These ain't barnyard pigs; you got to put steel in 'em-quick and deep."

Zell felt good today, I thought; every inch the virile conqueror. Because of his rape of Michiko last night? I wondered if that made him feel better, more masterful. If so, why was Zell looking for approbation now, why was he bragging about the difficulties of the hunt?

I felt almost a physical jolt along my spine when I found his eyes locked with mine. "You're a good-look-in' woman, Julie," he said. "But I got a hunch you think too damned much. A woman don't have to think; all she's gotta do is enjoy herself. You remember that, Julie-just like you remember that I'm the big dog I around here, and the big dog always sleeps light. I don't know what kinda' ideas you had when you went prowlin' around last night, but I thought I'd let you know I heard every step you took."

"I-I was restless," I said.

His grin was wet and knowing. "Yeah? That little act by the fire kind of shake you up some? You don't hafta' wait around for me to point you out, if you get too eager. You can come on over to my hut any time, any time at all."

"I'll remember that," I said.

Beady, glittering, his eyes probed into mind. "That goes for your buddy, too. Hell-I ain't choosy. Of course, I'll get around to all of you, sooner or later. We got plenty of time; we got all the time there is."

Burly, swaggering, he strode away into the trees, spear in hand, the hairy columns of his chunky legs carrying him balanced and smooth. All of us watched him go; every pair of eyes was focused upon his back, and Kane Zell knew it.

When he was gone, the clearing brightened; the sun felt warmer. I went to the cook fire and filled a plate for Michiko. At her side, I said: "Try some; you'll need your strength."

Her hands were shaking when she took the coconut shell. Lifting it to her bruised mouth, she forced her throat to carry some of the food to her stomach.

Sako and Kyoko sighed in concerted relief. "Good," Sako said.

Michiko's eyes flashed at them. "You thought the disgrace would be too much, that I would perform the ritual of suicide. No; I will live-so I can kill him."

Sako and Kyoko exchanged glances. "He is strong," Kyoko said in Japanese, "and sleeps like a cat."

"Speak English," Michiko said. "This woman is our friend. Zell can be killed; any man can be killed. When it is done, we will return to Japan."

Sako was startled. "Return-but-"

Determinedly, Michiko chewed a piece of meat. "A raft. He will not want us to go; he wants us all for his whores. So we will build the raft in secret and gather food and water for the journey. When it is ready, we will kill him and sail to Nippon."

"That's a large order," I said. "It's going to take know-how. If you do manage to build the raft, who's going to sail it?"

Michiko gulped more stew. "Kyoko's father was a fisherman. She knows something of the sea, and the sea has always been a friend to the Japanese. We can do it."

Sako shook her head. "I-I not know. Okay here; only Zell-san bad.

"Fool!" Michiko flared. "Because you gave yourself to the other one, because you married one of them? Do you know why your husband married you, Sako? Because you were good in bed, better than his own women; that's all. And because you would serve him, as his own women will not."

Sako looked away. Kyoko chewed her lips.

"You will help with the raft," Michiko said. "Think, and you will understand that the round eyes are destroying themselves out here. They are bombing each other's cities, as they did Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Back in our homeland, we will wait for them to tear out each other's throats. When they are bled dry, Nippon will regain its rightful place in the sun."

"But-what about GI's in Japan?" Sako asked.

"Do you think they will stay to watch Japan while their own cities are burning? They will flee, and take their boots off our necks. We will be free again."

"Need strong raft," Sako said, obeying.

"Takusan food and water," Kyoko added.

Michiko smiled at them and touched her bruised lips. "We are patient. Impatience is a failing of foreigners. I will be patient, too. I will not kill Kane Zell until we are ready to go."

"I wish you luck," I said.

Michiko had forgotten I was there. "We may take you with us, Julie."

"That's a long way off," I said. "And I'm a foreigner, remember?"

"Yes," she said. "That's true."

In the weed-choked vegetable field, Ella and I worked silently, sweatily, until the sun was high overhead. Neither of us wanted to talk about last night; neither of us wanted to think about Zell's choice for the coming night. After lunch in the clearing, a lunch brightened by Zell's continued absence, we relaxed in the shade-mice loafing in while the cat was away.

Helen Fergus came hesitantly over to stand beside her young friend Elena. They hadn't been seeing much of each other lately-not since Helen had been taken in by Jessie.

"Hi," Helen said.

"Hi, yourself." Elena's voice was chilly. "So you got around to talking to me again."

Helen reddened. "I'm sorry. I've been-kind of busy. You know, with the salt and everything."

"And with Jessie."

Helen's chin came up. "Yes, with Jessie."

"You look-different," Elena said. "Sort of grown up and older. I guess Jessie's all right, if you like it that way. But I figure a man is better. You know-a real man, like Kane."

Helen's mouth set. "He was awful, beating Michiko like that. He's only an animal that hurts women, and Jessie says all men are that way."

"He won't hurt me; I won't fight him."

"Elena! Do you mean you want him to take you to bed?"

The girl shrugged. "Sure, and you would, too-if you weren't all mixed up."

"No," Helen shuddered. "No, no. It's-different with Jessie. She-she won't let Zell hurt me; she promised."

Elena laughed. "Oh, she won't?"

"No, we'll run away."

"Run? Run where, stupid? Listen, if Kane decides he wants you, that's it. Jessie won't be able to do anything about it."

Jessie strode up to them. Shaggy-haired, tanned, she loomed over the.girls. "Is that so? You'd do better to come in with us, Elena."

"No thanks," Elena said.

Jessie stared at the girl, then reached for Helen's hand. "Come on, honey-she doesn't know any better."

Jessie lifted a big hand, face hardening.

"Let it drop," Danny said from the edge of the clearing. "We've got enough trouble."

Jessie lowered heavy brows at him. "The little bitch got smart."

"I heard," Danny said. "Let her alone."

Jessie's mouth curled. "Listen to the big man. You're big when Zell is out in the woods. When he comes in, I'll let him know how big you are."

Danny came slowly over to us. "While you're about it, let him know you were on the make for another girl. He might not like the competition."

Jessie cursed him and towed Helen into the trees.

I said to Danny, "You surprise me. Jessie might have hurt the girl."

"Yeah-I'm a big man, around woman."

"Give yourself a little credit, Danny. You have your good points, and you weren't always-"

"Weak? No, but who's like they were before. You're different than you were yesterday; I'm different. Yesterday I didn't have a hangover."

"Yesterday you hadn't watched a rape."

Danny looked down at his hands; they were blistered and scratched from hacking at branches with a dull, improvised axe. His bloodshot eyes retreated upon themselves, masking old pain that had risen to the surface.

"I've seen many rapes; French women, German women, Italians, Koreans-you name the brand. And not only women, but children, and cities and men.

There are a thousand forms of rape-each as violent, each as dirty as another. Some rapes dirty a body; others dirty the soul."

I wanted to touch him, to hold him close. Instead, I said, "Danny-everything isn't dirty. There are many good, clean things in this world of ours."

"That good clean world of ours is tearing itself apart with bombs right now."

"No, that's somebody else's world, Danny. Ours is here, this island and ourselves. There must be other places, too-other islands where people aren't killing and destroying."

"I don't give a damn," he said. "When the booze wears off, I won't care what goes on in either world."

Hefting his dull axe, he went back up the path into the woods.

Ella touched my arm. "We'd better get back to work, too. You know-Danny was lucid today; for a while; until he gets back to his jug."

"He was almost sober," I agreed, "and hating every moment of it."

Ella said, "He made Jessie let the girl alone."

"He doesn't like to see evil."

"Who does?" Ella said. "Only animals like Zell. But we can't all hide from evil. It's got to be faced when it comes."

I stopped in the path and stared at her. "You're playing tricks with me, Ella. You're trying to prepare me for the time when Zell picks me for his bedmate."

Her face was dark. "He'll try it. I heard him talking to you this morning."

"It won't matter," I said. "I won't let it matter."

"Don't try to kid me," Ella murmured. "Some of the others might relax and enjoy it, but not you, Julie. Not with Zell."

"Not with Zell," I agreed.

With anyone? With Danny Mixon?

Ella and I didn't have to worry-yet. Plump Faye Herman was Zell's next pick, and she went giggling to him. Placid and housewifely, she patted at her hair and smoothed her dress over her ample hips as she accepted her new role.

Danny was staying away from camp as much as possible, and I was certain his intake of alcohol was dropping. He was probably trying desperately to make his dwindling supply last, trying to stave off the inevitable day when the last drink was gone.

And in the evenings, I saw him prowling the beaches, walking, walking until he could sleep without the drug of another drink or two. The sun had brushed life into his hair and tanned his skin, and his eyes looked better. He was eating more often, too, and fleshing out. But I could see that the flesh was still soft, and that the softness within him hadn't hardened at all.

In his constant moving about, he must have discovered what I already knew-the signal fire laid ready and waiting on top of the ridge; the cunningly hidden framework of the raft. The Japanese girls had been lucky; Zell ranged the other end of the island where the deep woods provided cover for the game he enjoyed killing. But if he ever stumbled across the raft, they were in for real trouble.

Zell would never allow them to leave this kingdom he ruled. He'd prevent any escape from the harem he owned, the harem he was slowly sampling, one by one. As Zell had said, he was in no hurry, and I thought he liked to build the suspense of waiting and wondering. He liked to make us fret and worry, anticipating his next choice.

The days passed in swift succession, filled with the very real labor of gathering food, of strengthening the huts, and of laying in a small stockpile of dried meats and fruits against some terrible day when we couldn't fish or hunt or harvest the edible roots and berries.

The stockpile would have grown more quickly, but the Japanese girls were funneling food into their own secret cache, constantly preparing for the finishing of the raft and their escape from the island. If Zell hadn't bsen preoccupied with his women and his hunting, he might have noticed.

Faye Shannon lasted almost a week as Zell's mistress. She was replaced by Kyoko Smith. Experienced and eager to please, eager to hold his attention away from her friends, she threw herself into her work. I suspected that not all her zeal was dedication to the cause. Kyoko was all woman, and sleeping with Kane Zell wasn't a chore for her.

She had been his favorite for several days when the restlessness began to show on Zell. Tension swept over the camp, half-felt, half-seen, as we looked at each other and tried to decide which of us that thick, beckoning finger would point at next, which of us would have to go into his hut and spread ourselves for the onslaught of that massive, hairy body.

My turn? I thought-my turn?

And with my stomach knotting, with my throat aching and a dryness in my mouth, I couldn't work. I left the field and wandered into the trees, trying to walk away my fears and my problems as Danny Mixon did.

If you're attempting to hide, even a large city can become a small place. Our island was tiny to begin with, but I covered its length without seeing anyone else. I came to a coral headland, to a part of the island I'd never been before. This was Zell's territory, wilder, more savage than the other slope of the ridge.

I was tired then, worn out by the frantic rat race of mind and emotions. I crawled atop a mossed-over rock and stretched out in the sun. I was asleep before I even felt drowsiness creeping over me.

A voice awakened me, startled me into wide-eyed alertness. I lay still, listening, puzzling over the voice that answered its own questions. Carefully, I edged to the rim of the rock and peeped down at the sliver of beach below.

Eve Short was stripping on the sand, taking off her clothes and talking to herself. "I won't go barefoot like the others," she said. "Not as long as my shoes hold out. Savages, all of them."

She fumbled behind her back for the bra catch. "But I think-I just might-stop wearing this thing. Aunt Agnes isn't here, and she always made me buy these two sizes too small, anyway."

Her breasts arched out in quick freedom, round, full, stemmed. The sun brushed them with gold as she stooped to wriggle out of her skirt and panties. Then she was as I'd seen her that night when she tried to make love to Danny-nude, gleaming and amazingly beautiful. She waded into the surf where salt spray diamonded her silken skin, and I remembered that I had never seen Eve bathe with the rest of us. I suddenly felt like an intruder on her private beach.

She let herself sink into the water, entranced with the green sparkle that caressed her long, white legs and tickled her pussy. A wave foamed over her and she laughed aloud, the echoes ringing free and resounding into the trees.

He came out of nowhere, drifting like a jungle cat, on the balls of silent-padding feet. He came furry and stalking, the red-stained spear swinging loosely in one knotted fist.

Zell stood without sound, without motion, and watched Eve cavort in the water. She rose with her back to him, to the beach, waves frothing about her knees. Her long hair, unhampered by pins and nets, hung down her curving back in a dripping cascade, its curling ends touching her flared hips. She turned then, lifting her arms and stretching them to the sun, her head thrown back, breasts thrusting full and high. Water beaded her flat stomach, sparkled along the sweep of her hips and the roundness of her thighs, the crisp patch.

"Who woulda' figured it?" Zell said.

She saw him, watched in frozen horror as he took one step, then another, and the water washed over his feet. Eve remained that way, arms lifted, body arched, until he kicked out of his shorts. Then she screamed und ran clumsily through the waves.

Water sprayed high about them as he caught her, wrapped his arms tightly around her scissoring legs and dragged her into the shallows. She flinched when he rolled her over on her back, and brought her arms up to cross them over her breasts. Then she lay utterly still, eyes squeezed tight shut, her body half under water. Her mouth was open; her lips curled away from her teeth.

A wave foamed over them. Eve closed her mouth against it and opened it to cry out against the sudden, thrusting pain of Zell's massive rod. Zell muffled her lips with his own, and her screams broke against his teeth. Savagely then, she was fighting to slide out from under him, twisting in the shifting sands, in the wild, bubbling waves, biting at the fur of his chest, clawing at the hard muscles of his back.

Eve was enraged, engulfed by unreasoning panic, frightened by the explosion of pain which was changing, changing under the steady, relentless pressure. I saw the moment when the pain changed to something exquisitely sweet, saw her clinging to him and lifting, lifting-pushing her pussy at him.

For a long time afterward, Eve wouldn't let him go. Zell had to push her away. She followed him up onto the beach and stood close as he drew on his shorts. He sat down, and she sat down beside him, touching her knee to his leg.

"You never had it before," Zell said.

"No; you were the first."

Zell shook his head. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-four," she said. "That won't matter, will it?"

Zell laughed. "Why the hell should it? The way you use that body, I wouldn't care if you were sixty. How come you never been with a man before?"

Eve pressed her knees into his muscled thigh. "I didn't know-how it was. They lied to me, and I didn't know."

"Well," Zell grunted, "you sure as hell know now. You can make up for all that lost time."

"You'll take me? You'll take me into your hut tonight and-and make love to me again?"

Shaking himself like a bear, Zell stood up. "You better believe it. I got a hunch you're gonna' be there a long time."

"Have you?" Eve was tremulous, fluttery. "Kane, I don't know how to-to do things. You'll teach me, Kane darling? You'll show me how, so I can make you happy?"

"Damn right I will." His hand was cruel on her naked breast, but Eve gloried in the pain. "Come on; time to start back for supper."

She followed him gladly, puppy-like, snatching at her clothes and struggling into them swiftly, as if she was afraid he'd leave her behind.

I lay limp and exhausted on the rock, drained and spent-almost like I had been the woman in Zell's arms, instead of Eve. I was certain of one basic truthI couldn't go on this way, playing the voyeur, blundering into the sights and sounds of other women's love-making.

Plodding back across the island, I told myself Eve Short was in trouble, that she was confusing her first sexual experience with love, that she thought Kane Zell would be content with the fruits her body had to offer, and would search for no others. She was a fool. I was sorry for Eve Short.