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  They destroyed the mighty Mayan Empire. What hope for a few shipwrecked survivors?

  A South American cruise. It should have been a once in a lifetime experience. And it was. But not in the way they imagined. Barely surviving a horrific shipwreck, the remaining passengers have to try and cope with finding food, water, shelter, let alone the constant arguments. And then there are the bugs. Not the sort that you squish and then get on with your day. Oh no. Toe biters, pond skaters, assassin bugs and harvestmen that drop down on top of their victims – all of these could be found in your garden. But on this lost island they are all at least twenty times their normal size. Trapped on an island with a six metre long giant centipede with armoured plates was not on the cruise itinerary. Now all they want is to get off – without being squished!

  “Anyone pack the bug spray?”

  BUG ISLAND

  by

  R.G. Cordiner

  PUBLISHED BY:

  R.G. Cordiner

  Bug Island

  Copyright © 2010 by R.G. Cordiner

  Cover Image courtesy M and B Cordiner

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  To my wife Kim - You make me go bug eyed

  To the boys - No man is an island

  To my family - You helped my metamorphosis

  To the kids I've taught - Even small creatures can be powerful

  To my cats - Quit bugging me!

  Books by R.G. Cordiner:

  OUT NOW:

  Treasure Lost

  Candy Wars: The Tooth Fairies vs The Candy King

  Bug Island

  Candy Wars II: Sweet Revenge

  Candy Wars I and II: The Sugar Hit

  COMING SOON:

  Alien Hunters: Discovery

  BUG ISLAND

  R.G. Cordiner

  Chapter 1:

  The Fall of the Maya

  912 A.D.

  Somewhere in South America.

  A Mayan village.

  FOOMP!

  FOOMP!

  The birds scattered like brightly coloured confetti as the sound of the drums echoed through the forest.

  FOOMP!

  FOOMP!

  The beats became louder and more urgent. People gradually emerged from their huts. Their long heads poked out and they jabbered away in confusion. Why were the drums beating now? What was going on?

  FOOMP!

  FOOMP!

  A man was running through the jungle towards them.

  He was screaming.

  “An! An! (Run! Run!)”

  A woman called out to him, “Matz! Bay … (Matz! Where…)”. But he had already run past at a furious pace.

  Some of the villagers ran back into their huts to grab a few of their meagre belongings, as streams of people began to follow the running man. Others just stood there in confusion. They peered back in the direction he had come. The branches of the trees swayed.

  Matz turned and looked over his shoulder at the village and his eyes widened as he heard the loud rustling in the jungle.

  FOOMP!

  FO….

  “AAAAAGH!”

  A scream was heard in the distance.

  The drums suddenly fell silent.

  Matz looked from left to right at the river of people that were now joining him. All were running as fast as they could from the temple. Some were slowed down by babies or small children, and they ran past others who were simply too old or too tired to run any further.

  “AAGGH!”

  The screams were getting nearer. The creatures must be getting closer. Matz willed his tired legs to give more but he was already running as fast as he could.

  ...

  Napt was bored. Why was he stuck with guard duty? What was there to guard? He was stuck near the edge of the forest – the beach was tantalisingly close, tempting him, taunting him. Each wave seemed to be calling – come and play with us.

  But he knew that he would be flogged if he left his post so he blocked his ears and tried to ignore the teasing.

  He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he did not notice the faint sound of the drums, nor when they stopped shortly afterwards.

  Napt was busy throwing his knife at the insects that lazily buzzed around him, so the distant screams floated past him and off to sea without him even realising.

  Suddenly Matz ran past him at a furious pace.

  Napt got to his feet but his friend was gone. He noticed that the forest was rumbling too. Napt picked up his knife as a swarm of villagers ran through him. He was knocked to his feet.

  Gradually he got up and scratched his head.

  That was odd.

  Why did everyone suddenly want to go to the beach? Was there a party that he hadn’t been invited to? Were they all going off to that new island that Mara had rushed off to yesterday without even bothering to invite him? Now Matz was going too. Typical!

  He was tempted to follow them but thought better of it. He scratched absentmindedly at the scabs that were only now starting to form over the result of his last visit to the beach.

  SCRTCH

  A scuttering noise came from the trees.

  Napt frowned and walked off the path and deeper into the forest.

  SCRTCH

  SCRTCH

  He followed the sound.

  ... and then all of a sudden the forest was silent.

  Really silent.

  No birds.

  No insects.

  Nothing.

  PLLP

  A drip of water hit his tunic.

  He wiped it off.

  PLLP

  Another drop hit his head.

  Great, he thought, a storm. Just what we need.

  He looked up ...

  … and screamed.

  “AAAGH!”

  ...

  Matz heard the scream but there was nothing he could do. He was almost at the beach.

  And suddenly he was there. The glare of the white sand hit his eyes, but he had no time to adjust, no time to stop. He must keep moving! Matz ran and grabbed one of the canoes and dragged it into the waves. He held it under one arm and swam as best he could through the first few breakers and then jumped inside.

  He risked a look behind him.

  Swarms of people were on the beach. Some had made it into canoes and were starting out into the waves. Others had started fighting each other over the wooden boats. Still more were running away down the beach.

  Matz paddled out with his arms.

  “AAGH!”

  The screaming had started again behind him. He didn’t want to turn around. What was the point? Matz knew what he would see. He knew what it would do to him - the temptation to return and try to help his fellow villagers, his friends. The temptation to try and do something ... anything.

  But he knew it was futile.

  Nothing could defeat those things.

  Not even the gods themselves.

  But the screams and crunching noises continued. So, in a decision that would haunt him for the remainder of his life … he turned around.
/>   Words could barely describe what he saw. He choked on the horror of it.

  They were too many to count. The demon creatures were swarming over the beach, attacking whoever was unfortunate enough to be left alive.

  A few villagers had managed to grab a boat, some wood or were just swimming for their lives.

  Matz turned back and kept paddling hard. Where he was going he didn’t particularly care, anywhere but back there.

  ZZZ

  A buzzing noise sounded in the distance. He glanced over his shoulder in shock.

  Not only were there creatures on the beach.

  Now there were flying ones and …

  … there were others who were starting to walk across the water!

  Other, stronger villagers were beginning to overtake him now. He watched the grim look on their faces as they passed him with barely a glance. Matz noticed that the horizon ahead looked fuzzy.

  Was this yet another form of demon?

  It was closer now.

  It seemed to be a giant patch of fog.

  Tendrils of it reached out from the giant mass and licked at him, as if tasting him, testing him.

  The couple of villagers who had overtaken him had already been enveloped in the fog’s embrace and Matz could no longer make them out anymore.

  Matz hesitated - was this just another trap? He had heard rumours of a new island not far off shore but no one had ever come back. Was this the island?

  Matz strained to hear.

  There were still screams coming from behind him, but a lot fewer now – the demon creatures having done their job. But he could not hear any ahead.

  The buzzing noise was getting much closer now.

  He had no choice.

  He paddled into the fog, arms straining in their constant battle with the sea.

  ZZZ

  Matz ducked instinctively as one of the flying demon creatures swooped down low.

  He put his hand back in towards the water and cried out.

  AAGH!

  He pulled his hand out in pain.

  Attached to it was a giant crawling demon creature.

  He shook his arm and the creature fell into the canoe. More were striding across the water towards him.

  The creature’s legs scrabbled at the air. He could hear the buzz of more flying demon creatures coming nearer. The one hovering over his boat swooped lower. He kicked the water creature into the air as the flying demon came lower. He watched as the flying creature turned and stabbed the water demon and then began to eat it in the air.

  Matz shuddered. He looked behind him to see a swarm of demon creatures in the sky and dashing across the water.

  His arm was throbbing now – a great angry red welt was pulsing on it. He pushed on into the fog until it was so thick that he could barely make out the end of the canoe.

  Matz was beginning to feel dizzy.

  He could hear waves in the distance.

  His head was spinning.

  Something seemed to be pulling the little canoe.

  His arm felt like hot knives were repeatedly stabbing it.

  Suddenly the canoe lurched up into the air.

  A wave caught the craft and pulled at it.

  He frowned. Even in his befuddled state he wondered how there could be waves way out to sea.

  SCCRNCH.

  The boat smashed.

  Matz was thrown out and landed on something wet and compact.

  Sand.

  He lay there for a while.

  The pain in his arm had now travelled up to his shoulder.

  He wondered whether anyone else had made it through the fog.

  He heard a noise but didn’t have the energy to lift his head.

  And then it all went black.

  ...

  The fog was getting thicker.

  The creatures hesitated.

  They buzzed around the outskirts, probing.

  Never going in too deep.

  The fog tugged at something deep inside them.

  Then, as if they had somehow made a decision, they turned and headed back to the mainland.

  The creatures were still hungry.

  It was not yet time to go home.

  Chapter 2:

  Just Cruising

  Present Day.

  A cruise ship.

  Long, sleek.

  Weighed down by wealth.

  The sea gently caresses the side of the ship. Guests lounge around the deck, their bodies being slowly crisped by the sun. Tinny music, that was supposed to be calming, rasps out of the overhead speakers. Bored waiters on the top deck take the orders from snobby patrons who look like they have toothpicks stuffed up their noses. People swarm all over the decks, restaurants, bars, pool, tennis courts and dance floors like an invasion of cockroaches.

  But Sarah was oblivious to all of this.

  She was annoyed.

  Very annoyed.

  So annoyed that she was pouting.

  “Daddy!!” her high pitched whine seemed to stab into her father’s ears.

  “Daddy! It’s not fair! Why does John get to go on the zip line and I don’t?” Noticing that her pouting and whining were still not attracting her father’s attention, Sarah decided to ramp up her tantrum to the next level...

  … arm crossing and foot stomping!

  “Daddy!”

  Tracy sighed. “Look, Sarah, your father is trying to do some work. Why don’t you do something different dear?”

  “But!” Stomp!

  “I!” Stomp!

  “Don’t want...” Stomp!

  “ to do anything ....” Stomp!

  “DIFFERENT!” Scream! Stomp! Stomp! Slam!

  “For Pete's sake Tracy,” Mark looked up from the columns of figures and peered over the top of his spectacles, “can’t a guy get any peace around here? I mean if Sarah wants to go on the pip line”

  “Zip line, Daddy!”

  Mark glared at her, “… whatever the blasted thing is called, then let her go so that I can get some work done for once!”

  “But Mark,” Tracy began, “it’s the ship’s rul…”

  “Trace. Can’t you just deal with it for once?”

  “For once, what do you mean for once? I always deal with everything because you sit on your ever expanding butt with your head buried in figures. I’ve had enough of doing everything!” Tracy wanted to scream the words at him but she didn’t.

  Again.

  She looked at her daughter who was smirking at her. How could Sarah be so different from me? She thought. I would never have dreamed of speaking to my parents like that. Tracy glanced over at John who had wires streaming from his head and was staring through the windows out to sea cocooned in his music.

  “Mummy?” Sarah had quickly realised that she had been negotiating with the wrong person so she turned and began to bat her eyelids.

  “Look Sarah,” Tracy began.

  “AAAAGGGGGGHHH!”

  Deciding that discussion, argument, whining, yelling, stomping and arm folding had all proved to be not very effective weapons, Sarah went for her nuclear option and fell to the floor screaming and punching the ground with her fists.

  “Right! That’s it!” Mark grabbed his laptop and his coffee and got up. “I’m off to the adult’s lounge to get a bit of peace.”

  He marched to the door, opened it and paused.

  A bearded man in uniform stood in the doorway, his fist raised.

  Mark took a step back.

  “Sorry sir, I was just about to knock on your door and check if everything was ok?” The officer tried to peer around Mark’s shoulder. “I got a complaint about a commotion?”

  Mark glared at the man. “Look, Officer …”

  “First Officer Henry actually,” he grinned and held out a hand.

  “Look Officer,” Mark ignored the offered hand, “my daughter’s just having another tantrum. Now if you don’t mind I have work to do.” And with that, he pushed past First Officer Henry and bustled down th
e corridor as fast as his short legs could carry him.

  Henry watched him in shock. What a complete buffoon! He gritted his teeth and turned back to the cabin.

  Tracy walked over and shook the officer’s hand.

  “Tracy Margin. Pleased to meet you. Look I’m sorry about my husband, he’s just a bit overworked.”

  Henry forced a smile. “That’s ok ma’am. Now is everything ok?”

  “Fine thanks.” She replied, closing the door.

  Henry walked off counting to himself in his head.

  One

  Two

  "AAAGGHH!" Sarah’s temper tantrum echoed down the corridor.

  Kids! He thought to himself, why would anyone bother?

  He smiled to himself as he walked a short way further and then he stopped. Henry took a step back and paused outside cabin 372. He stood looking at it for a short while. He frowned. The wrestling match inside his skull was taking a while to find a winner. He mentally slapped himself across the face. Why shouldn't he knock on her door? Was he not the First Officer?

  Henry knocked as quickly as he could to disguise his shaking hands.

  "Just a minute!" The voice was muffled through the door, but he still knew it was her. Henry adjusted his uniform.

  The door opened with a whiff of perfume and ... eyes. All he saw were those eyes.

  "Henry!" Melanie cried, her arms wrapping around him, "My favourite first Captain." She grinned.

  He smiled sheepishly and then recovered his composure.

  "Just checking in to see that everything is ok, ma'am."

  Melanie fiddled with the locket around her neck.

  "Henry, you know I always enjoy this cruise - there's just something special about it." She winked at him as she started to close the door. "Now I'm sure you have more important passengers to attend to."

  Henry reluctantly left the cabin as the door closed. He sighed as he continued down the corridor until he reached the large veranda that looped around the inside of the ship. Had he paused, Henry might have admired the view down to the park and shopping district below. Or he might have scanned across the other verandas, at all the luxury cabins stuffed onto the cruise ship. Or he may even have looked up and appreciated the sun beaming down upon the giant atrium. But he didn’t. And not just because his walkie talkie buzzed at that exact point in time.