Trying my hand at a first-person short story, part 2.

Continuing my first short story.  This is part 2.  I'd recommend reading part 1 first...  ha!

     Reaching back and grabbing the spear I had fashioned from a bamboo reed and my pocket knife, I pulled it to the ready as the rustling got louder. It was dark and I was in an unfamiliar place, but I remembered to control my breathing and focus instead of allowing my nerves to get the better of me. My mind played tricks as I hunched over in anticipation of what was about to come charging out of the brush, and then suddenly I saw it!

     A lone coconut rolled into view and came to a stop at the edge of my camp. The rustling ceased and that was it. I realized the snap I heard must have been from a branch the coconut hit when it fell from the palms that towered above me. “Bloody hell..." I said with a snicker, setting down my spear and gathering the rest of my belongings, "Guess the joke's on me!”  With everything packed I threw the satchel over my shoulder and set off towards the temple, walking in time with the eerie beat of the islanders' drums. Clutching the spear in my other hand, I silently vowed to make quick work of any other killer coconuts that might try to ambush me...

     Slowly I hiked down the side of the mountain, keeping one eye on this mysterious temple that grew larger as I approached, and keeping the other wandering in my periphery out of caution. I could see the natives dancing around the large pyre they had built in the center of the grounds and I also caught sight of the two hapless folks who were locked up in cages. I was close now... Very close. I could very well be visible if one of them happened to look in the right direction, so I searched for cover. Remembering the rocky outcroppings and trees I saw bordering the temple from my camp, I picked out their silhouette and sneaked over to them.

     Crouching down and gathering a better view, I set my spear and satchel down next to me and began to go over the plan in my head. The large stone headpiece on top of the left side of the temple was my target. From the features I was able to make out at my distance, it seemed to show the face of some being, perhaps one of this tribe's ancient deities. During the daylight hours the tribesmen had been slaving away trying to make some type of repairs or modifications to it. There was a huge crack running across the bottom and it was being propped up by a few timbers.

     Being sure to avoid their patrolmen, I would sneak over to the corner of the temple and pull out the makeshift grappling hook I had created from a length of rope and a large iron hook I gathered from that boat wreckage I stumbled across on the beach. Out of sight, I would do my best to swing the grappling hook onto the largest timber that supported the headpiece, sneak around back to my hiding spot with the length of rope, and give it a mighty heave. With a bit of luck, yanking that timber out would be enough to cause the headpiece to roll over and fall off the top of the temple, making a loud enough crash to attract the attention of the islanders. With the captives' cages being on the complete opposite side of the temple, I should have just enough time to rush over to them, break open the cage doors, and grab their equipment which was piled only a few feet away from them.  Then the three of us would disappear into the jungle before the tribesmen knew what was happening.

     It was perfect.  I was ready.

     The drum beat grew louder.

     All of the tribesmen were now fully immersed into their dance ritual. Their efforts were so focused that it seemed as if they had become one with the movements of the flames from the pyre. It reminded me of the meditative, trance-like state one enters when practicing Zen.  For a moment it was both beautiful and fascinating, but I quickly snapped out of it and focused on the task at hand.

     Seeing the last patrolman disappear behind the other side of the temple, I knew the time had come. Picking out the spot where I'd throw the hook, I quickly grabbed it from my satchel and crouch-walked over. The coast was clear! Standing up and focusing on the large timber, I started to swing the hook around to pick up momentum for the throw. As I readied myself for the release I wondered, will this all be worth it? Will these two people I was about to rescue have the means to get us out of here? After all, if they were stranded also with no way of escaping this island, things would probably get a whole lot worse for the lot of us. Being stranded is one thing. But being stranded with a band of crazy native islanders chasing after you?

     Well now, that's a whole different ballgame...