Crescent Island - Scouting and Trouble

Posted on Tue May 20th, 2025 @ 12:27pm by New York Survivor Briar Maddox & New York Survivor John ("Dodger") Smith & New York Survivor George Brooks

3,355 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: Safe Harbor
Location: Crescent Island
Timeline: September 16th Morning

The boat scraped softly against the jagged shoreline, the wood creaking like it too feared to disturb the silence. Mist clung to the crescent-shaped island like breath on a mirror, and the scorched bones of the old lodge loomed above the treeline—its blackened rafters twisted against the sky. The air smelled of wet earth, rotting fruit, and ash. Somewhere up the bluff, a goat bleated once and went silent. Behind them, the water was already darkening with the coming storm. Ahead, tangled vines draped over old stone, and the orchard beyond whispered with unseen movement. No one spoke. They had come looking for food, water, maybe shelter. But Crescent Island had a memory of its own—and it was waiting.

Dodger jumped off the boat, his shoes splashing in the water, breaking the silence as he took a bow line and wrapped it around a large rock to keep the boat from drifting off. He turned back to the others. "Okay, let's see what we can find and take back. Stay together, stay alert. Briar hand me my bat please." He turned back to the island. A tight grin on his face at hearing the goat bleat. He already one thing they would be taking back....if they could.

The fishing boat was smaller than the yacht they had still docked back at their island but it could hold a bit. Briar handed over the bat and then climbed ashore with her spear and several bags stuffed into her backpack.

Dodger waited until she was beside him. "Alright, let's get this party started and see what we can find and take back to Amy the others to use."

It had been decided that one of the older teens needed to stay with the younger members of the group to keep them organized and on task, feed them without a lot of waste and able to take charge just in case a situation arose needing it.

George shut down the engine and took the boat's key, putting it in his pocket. If there was anyone on the and, he didn't wat them to steal the boat. After grabbing his hockey stick, he climbed out of the small boat and followed Dodger and Briar. "Let's be careful, guys. This island gives ne the creeps."

Dodger nodded, "We stick together, keep each other in sight and as George said be careful. As for this island, it is spooky, nothing moving. All I heard was a goat. Maybe that is all that is here."

Briar gave half a shrug. "I smell fruit. Late summer fruit. If we could scavenge it... Maybe there are plants we can take back with us?"

"A good idea Briar, if we can bring back some fruit along with plants that would help our situation instantly. Perhaps we can even bring that goat or goats back." Dodger replied.

Briar moved to head up the overgrown path, slowly keeping her body close to the ground as best she could without crawling.

Dodger followed behind Briar. His bat clutched tightly in his hand. He wanted to whistle but not knowing if there were undead on the island he wisely refrained from doing so.

George didn't like it, but knew they needed to get supplies to keep everyone alive. Taking a quick breath, he gripped his stick and followed the other two deeper into the island.

As they crested the small slope they found themselves looking over what was obviously a destroyed greenhouse, beyond through trees, they could see a burnt out structure.

They could hear more animal sounds and there to their left was what looked like fruit trees, with.. beehives beneath them. Four beehives.

"Wonder what happened here." Dodger said softly as he took in the burned-out structures. As his eyes shifted to the fruit trees and the beehives beneath them. Bees equal honey which is good. Question how do we move the hives without getting stung."

Briar shook her head. "But I don't care about stings. I am not allergic to bees, and if we keep our movements slow and steady we may be able to get away with it. "

"I don't know Briar." Dodger said doubtfully, "But we did come here to bring back items to help us and the honey and the bees will help us. So, it's worth a shot."\

"However, why don't we take the hives last? We gather fruit and plants. livestock and anything else we can use, then we load the hives so if any of us do get stung we're already on the way back to Amy and the others."

"Sound good." Briar said.

They moved to the orchard to start collecting the fruit.

"I watched something on the nature channel about moving hives. You need smoke to calm them, and if you can capture the queen, and put her in a box, the rest will just go into the box willingly."

They spoke for a bit and began to explore.
==

Rafe crouched low behind a crumbling stone wall, fingers wrapped around the grip of his rebar spear. Crescent Island was quiet—too quiet. No gulls, no goats, just the rustle of leaves above the orchard and the faint slap of waves against the south cliffs.

“They’re close,” Midge whispered beside him, knuckles white where he gripped the boat hook. “I saw one moving near the old greenhouse—tall kid with brown. Looked wiry.”

Rafe nodded, motioning for silence. The boys weren’t alone. A second voice had drifted to them moments earlier. Female. Confident. Not scared enough.

Teenagers. Three of them, maybe four.

He glanced down the slope where The Lucky Break waited, hidden behind the bluff. They’d parked the boat tight against the rocks—barely room for the bow. No one would see it unless they were looking for trouble.

That’s what Rafe was counting on.

“Time to say hello?” Midge grinned, adjusting his grip on the hook. His nerves always turned to jokes.
Rafe didn’t smile. “We don’t lead with threats. Not yet. They might be useful.”

“Easy there,” Rafe called as he stepped out from the trees, hands up in a half-peaceful gesture. The spear remained in his right hand, tilted just slightly downward. “Didn’t mean to spook you.”

Three teens froze near a gnarled apple tree. One—the girl—was crouched over a wooden crate. She stood slowly, hazel eyes narrowing as she sized him up. Strong posture. Braided hair. No fear. Spear in her hand

The tall kid beside her, dark hair, maybe sixteen, seventeen, shifted to the side, hockey stick in hand, half-shielding the third—almost the same height, blond hair. That one had a baseball bat in hand. They both were taller than the girl.

He didn’t know their names yet, but he’d remember their faces.

“We’re just passing through,” Rafe continued, voice smooth. “Didn’t expect company. But… looks like you’ve been setting up something here.”

“You from the mainland?” the girl asked coolly.

“Sort of,” Rafe replied. “Island-hoppers now. We’ve got a boat. Bigger than that canoe you’ve got beached near the bluff. Thought maybe you’d want to talk trade.”

Behind them, Midge appeared out of the orchard like a ghost, grinning.

“We got lemons,” he added brightly. “And salted fish. You look like you could use both.”

Rafe kept his eyes on the girl, was she the leader? He was watching her calculate. If she didn’t flinch, if she didn’t blink—this wasn’t going to be a soft play. This might be one of those groups that fought back.

That was fine. He liked it when they made him work for it.

Dodger watched the two men, His senses instantly on alert from having to live on the street. He was alert to trouble, and this smelled of trouble with a capital T. He said nothing just gripped the bat tighter and shifted his stance slightly ready to fight if need be.

George heard the other man step out behind them. He quickly turned to face him, keeping his goalie stick at the ready. He'd been in many fights, both on and off the ice. He kept his eyes locked on the other man's eyes, his back to Dodger and Briar, in a tight circle of defense. "Perhaps you two should go stand next to one another. Sneaking around behind people doesn't exactly scream friendly."

Briar didn’t move at first. She let the silence stretch, just long enough to make them wonder if she was about to order a strike—or run. Then she slowly straightened, turning her spear upright. Not threatening. Not friendly either.

Her eyes never left Rafe’s.

“We’re not looking to trade,” she said evenly. “We’ve got what we need.”

She saw the flicker of calculation in his face—the way his eyes flicked over their weapons, the crate, the path they’d come from. He was sizing them up, and she knew it. Older. Smarter, probably. But not invincible.

“And if you’ve been watching us long enough to know where our boat is,” she added, “then you already know we’re not alone out here.”

Her voice stayed steady, clear, just loud enough to carry. It was a bluff. The others were still two islands away. But sometimes, confidence was as good as backup.

“George,” she said without looking, “keep your eyes on the one with the grin.”

Midge’s smile faltered—just a flicker—but Briar saw it.

Rafe tilted his head, his tone still calm but with a thread of something darker. “No need for all this tension. We’re not looking for a fight. But if you are…”

“We’ll finish it,” Briar said coldly. “Quick.”

For a moment, nobody breathed.

Then Briar stepped forward, slow and deliberate. “Now. You can leave. Or you can show us this boat of yours—see if there’s actually anything worth trading.”

Her grip tightened on the spear. “But don’t lie. We’ve already survived worse than you.”

Rafe's jaw tightened—not with anger, but with calculation. The girl wasn’t bluffing. Or if she was, she was damn good at it. Steady hands. Controlled breathing. The spear didn’t waver once.

Behind her, the tall kid—George, if he’d heard right—shifted slightly, but didn’t take his eyes off Midge. And the other one, looked like he’d rather swing first and ask questions later.

They weren’t armed well, but they were together—and that counted for more than gear in this world.

Rafe gave a small nod. “Alright.”

He glanced sideways at Midge, who raised his brows as if to say really? but stepped back a half pace.

“No lies,” Rafe continued, directing his words at Briar now. “We’ve got a boat. Big enough for all of you and then some. Supplies too. We’ve been bouncing island to island, mostly quiet. You’re the first ones we’ve seen in weeks who didn’t run on sight or try to shoot us.”

He let that hang there.

“But you make a good point.” His lips twitched—not a smile. “Trust gets people killed.”

Midge shifted beside him, restless. “If this is going nowhere, Rafe…”

Rafe raised a hand and silenced him.

Then looked back at Briar. “You want to see the boat? Fine. I’ll take one of you. The rest can stay here and make sure my friend doesn’t try anything stupid.”

Midge’s head snapped toward him. “What—? You serious?”

Rafe didn’t look at him. He was watching Briar. Weighing her. Testing her.

“I’m offering a sliver of trust,” he said. “You give a little, we give a little. Or we walk.”

There was still tension in the air—like a storm crouching just off the shoreline. One wrong word could still tip this into blood.

But Rafe was already backing up a step. “Up to you.”

She didn't trust them at all. She hoped they walked.

Dodger had listened to enough. These guys were lying through their teeth. "Walk." He said simply, blunt and to the point. coldly his eyes on Rafe. Never moving, never blinking. Just steady, cold and deadly. He was impressed with Briar, she had real moxie, and he knew she could and would defend herself and he had no doubt George could defend himself. he had to, to survive on the streets.

Rafe raised an eyebrow. "You jump quickly to that." He said his tone hard. "You have no claim here you know."

Briar nodded "True but neither do you."

Rafe’s expression flickered—something behind the cool exterior cracking, just for a heartbeat. He didn’t like being challenged, not like this. Not by kids.

“We were here first,” Midge muttered, voice low and bitter. “Weeks ago. We just didn’t leave junk scattered around like you lot.”

“You mean you didn’t leave witnesses.” Briar replied

Midge took a half-step forward, grip tightening on the boat hook. “You wanna say that again, little Girl!?"

Rafe didn’t stop him this time. Rafe’s lips pressed into a thin line. He tilted his head—not denial, not confirmation. Just... silence.

Then slowly, deliberately, he stepped forward again. Not threatening. Not retreating.

“So,” he said quietly, voice like a knife sliding from a sheath, “this is how it’s going to be?”

She nodded.

Rafe looked to Briar one last time. “You had your chance.”

He turned.

“C’mon, Midge.”

Midge hesitated—still itching for a fight—but when Rafe barked his name again, he backed off. Muttering curses under his breath, he followed his partner down the slope and toward the trees.

They didn’t look back.

But they didn’t run, either.

They were already planning their next move.

And Briar knew it.

“This isn’t over,” she muttered. She looked at the two with her. "We may need to deal with them before we start packing stuff up. We cannot risk them following us back to Safe Harbor."

"You can bet they are going to try something. It's not may have to deal with them, we are going to have to deal with them. As you said we can't have them following us back to Safe Harbor." Dodger replied decisively.

Briar took a breath. "Their boat probably has a lot of supplies." She didn't want to be the one to say Kill them but she didn't want them being rescued. She began looking around the overgrown orchard. "How do we deal with them? If they.. die they become undead."

"There's a good chance it does but we're not sure. They could have been trying to sucker us and see what we had." He paused as to how we deal with them, if we strand them here, they could be rescued and come looking for payback and that puts us all at risk. We need a permanent way to deal with them. Which means kill them because they will kill us."

George had been silent, after he had spoken to the one called Midge. He had seen the hate in the man's eyes, and the hunger. He knew that look all too well. In a quiet voice, he spoke slowly, but with clear power. "We used to live in a civilized world, where right and wrong mattered and what separated the law-abiding from the criminal...." he paused a few beats, then continued. "That world no longer exists, and will probably never exist again, not in our lifetimes anyway. All that matters now, is survival. We are responsible to keep the rest of our group safe. If that means we take from others, we do. If that means we kill others before they become a bigger threat, then we must. It's us against the world now. And in that contest, I will always vote for us."

Briar nodded. "Very well. No need for honor then." She hefted her spear. "Shall we follow them?"

George looked into her eyes and nods. "They can't be allowed to leave this island alive."

"Aim for the head." Briar said softly. "My brother and I were attacked on our journey but head shots kill the zombies fully. And hopefully will stop them rising. "

The three of them began to follow the older pair.

As they approached the two men, George called out to them. "Hold up! We changed our minds. It's smarter if we team up. The more, the stronger we are."

Rafe turned though he did not look totally sold on this. " Really?"

Midge however stared and hefted his weapon which was a boat hook.

Briar stepped forward. "Really." She sounded honest.

Rafe stepped towards her and the boys. "Prove it."

George nodded as he stepped forward, giving them a disarming grin..until he brought his goalie stick up and swung down with all his might, the hardened plastic blade crushing Rafe's forehead in with a sickening crunch.

Rafe screamed as he staggered around, dropping to his knees.

Briar stepped towards Rafe with her spear at the ready.

Rafe was trying to yank something from his pants. "Gun!" Briar snapped even as she shoved her spear into his head wound.

Rafe dropped to ground dead. His body did not move.

Midge roared and lunged at Dodger.

Dodger dodged Midge's swing, the boat hook whistling through the air inches from his head. he had both hands on his bat as he came up and under Midge's swing, now closer to the man. He swung the bat, and it connected solidly on Midge's head. the crack of bone could be heard in the air. Midge's staggered but didn't fall as blood flowed from the head wound. He swung again and again he connected solidly as the blood flowed heavier and Midge fell to the ground unmoving. Just to be safe and not have Midge come back as one of the undead, Dodger hit him again the bat splitting his skull.

Briar looked at the bodies and then at the boys. Her stomach rolled and she stepped away and promptly lost whatever was in her stomach in the nearby bushes. It had, had to be done. The two older men would have killed them or maybe even more. They could not risk the safety of the younger children and their home base.

She washed her mouth out with water from her canteen and then moved back to Dodger and George. "We should.. bury them or toss them in the sea, Rafe has a gun in his waist band."

Dodger didn't talk for a few seconds, his throat dry. Finally, he spoke, "We did what we had to do. They would have killed us." He reached down and took the gun from Rafe's waist. "A 357 revolver. Fully loaded." He handed it to Briar. "You hold on to it. " He looked at the bodies, "Toss them in the sea as I don't see any shovels but if you want them buried we can."

He bent back down and picked up the rebar spear. "We can use this as well." He said simply.

Briar nodded and grabbed Rafe's leg. And began dragging it towards the beach where they had indicated the pairs boat had been left.

Dodger grabbed Midge's leg and followed Briar toward the beach, where they could toss the bodies into the water.

George took a beat to collect himself. It was one thing to say you'd do something...another if you actually follow through. That was the first person he had killed, but, he didn't feel anything. He thought he would, but he didn't. And, if he was being honest with himself, that scared him more than the deed itself.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts. He hurried after Briar and Dodger, and helped them toss the bodies into the water. The current took them rather quickly, and then the bodies were gone, pulled under the waves. He then looked at Briar and Dodger. "Let's fill both boats and get back. We can come for the rest later."

TBC

 

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