"Stranded"
Part V
By Chantal
"Good for him, but we've got other pressing matters."
"Like?"
"Like getting out of this bloody place! Don't you realize we are stranded and we aren't remotely looking for a way to get out of here?"
Micky folded his arms. "What do you suppose we do? How about trying to flag down another plane that somehow gets off their flight path to rescue us?"
"Quit being sarcastic! Davy snapped. "While youre playing nurse maid to Mike, Im looking for a way out of here. And Peter ---"
"What about him?"
Davy grabbed Micky's arm and led him back to their make shift camp.
"I can't stay away from Mike too long. I don't want him to wonder where I am."
"Fuck Mike! Davy yelled.
Micky smiled. "Good idea." he whispered.
Davy shook his head, "Stop mumbling. There's something wrong with Peter."
"What's wrong with him?"
Davy pointed in the direction of the plane's cockpit, the only piece of the plane in tact after the crash. Peter sat inside playing with the steering wheel.
"What the hell is he doing? Micky asked.
"He's lost the little mind he has. He thinks we are laying over until our next flight out tomorrow. He keeps saying tomorrow we have to have an early practice since we won't get the chance to do it today. Davy inched closer to Micky. "I'm actually scared of what he may do."
Micky laughed. "Peter? No. He's the most stable of all of us. He wouldn't hurt anyone."
"Not the Peter 'we' know, but we don't know what 'this' Peter is capable of."
They walked over to Peter who was now playing with the control buttons. His attention totally on what he was doing and not the surroundings.
"Hey Pete, what's up? Micky asked.
"Trying to get the Monkeemobile started. If I can, maybe we could drive to our next destination."
"What's that you're wearing? Davy asked.
Peter looked down at the charred pilot's shirt. "Oh, I found this on some dead body about thirty feet from here. You like it?"
Davy and Micky looked at each other, then stepped back. "He's fucking lost his mind. Micky whispered.
"I told you."
Mike stumbled up to them, grimacing with each step. "Where did you go? Mike asked.
Davy rolled his eyes and walked away. Micky lovingly touched Mike's arm. "You should be resting."
"I know ---" Mike paused and looked into Micky's brown eyes. His eyes glanced over at Davy, who stood looking at Peter. "What's going on?"
"Nothing. Micky lied.
"The truth!" he demanded. "I have no time for bullshit games."
Davy shouted over his shoulder. "It's Peter!"
"What about him?"
Micky whispered in his ear. "He's coo-coo. Gone. Lost his damn mind!"
Mike sat his tired body on the ground. "Peter's fine."
"Wanna bet? Davy laughed.
Mike took a deep breath, trying to conceal the pain from his injuries, and called Peter's name.
"Yes, Michael?" Peter replied.
"Are you all right?"
Peter stood up. "Someone should ask your ass that question. You are fucked up."
"What the hell did he say?! Mike angrily stood up and started towards the cockpit.
Micky pulled him back. "He doesn't know what the hell he's talking about."
Mike yanked his arm away. "I'll jerk his ass back into reality! He limped up to Peter who was still playing with the controls. "What the hell is your problem?"
Peter turned a menacing eye to Mike. "I'm ready to get out of this goddamn place, that's my problem! We've been stuck here what seems a lifetime and all you and Micky can do is play dick games with each other!"
Micky turned pale as a ghost. Davy quietly giggled to himself.
"Don't look so surprised, Micky. Peter wickedly smiled. "At night you can hear everything, especially your very inviting moans."
Micky, knowing how upset Mike was, lightly touched his hand. "Stay calm."
"Fuck calm! Mike yelled. "You think we want to stay here?! I was nearly killed by a bear! Who knows what else is out there lurking, waiting for us!"
Peter stepped out of the cockpit and approached Mike. "Who knows Mike. The lurker could be standing right in front of you."
Nightfall bestowed upon them. The cold night air substituted the heat of the day. Davy, sitting on the ground, leaned against a huge rock; his eyes opening and closing, fighting off sleepiness. Micky and Mike laid together on a pile of brush. Micky snuggled against Mike sleeping soundly, while Mike kept a close eye on Peter who was playing air guitar and nodding his head. It wasn't long before Mike, tired from his injuries and just being purely exhausted, drifted off to sleep.
"Davy, Davy ---"
"Huh, wha---" his voice caught in his throat as he felt two hands squeeze his neck. He opened his eyes to see who or what was doing this to him, but he couldn't make out what was violently killing him. He gasped for air, fighting with the invisible being choking him. "H...e...l...p!" he struggled to scream, but no one heard his cries. "Help!!!"
"Davy?"
On to PartVI
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