Past-Part Fills Part 7
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Past-Part Fills Part Seven
Fills from past parts can go here!
Fills from the current part (part 22) MUST go in that part's post until it is full.
Link to the original request (and if an ongoing fill, any previous chapters/sections).
Don't forget to link your new fill at the fill ( Read more... )
“That’s alright,” Taylor smiled, “I just want my Tonga back.”
-
Jake was finally able to stop and rest sometime after midnight. All day he had been chased by a trooper and someone he could only assume to be the owner of the sheep still tucked safely in his bag. All day they had been chasing him down no matter where he went. It took all of his tricks to get away and leave them a safe distance behind. Now he could finally rest and eat that damn sheep…
“That’s my jumbuck,” the voice said as Jake reached for his bag.
“You again!” he snarled into the darkness, “I’m not in the mood right now!”
“That’s my jumbuck,” it said again, “And I want it back.”
“If you want it back so damn much,” Jake shouted as he reached into the bag at tugged out the squirming sheep, “Why don’t you come over here and get it?”
“That’s my jumbuck,” the voice repeated, “And I want it back. If you don’t give him back, you’ll die.”
“I’d like to see you try!” he shouted, half deranged, into the night, clutching the squealing sheep even tighter, “Just try and get this thing before I kill it!”
Jake drew his knife as he held the sheep tight to his chest with one arm, positioning it right at its throat. The sheep renewed the struggles for its life, fidgeting wildly back and forth, trying to break Jake’s grip and make a run for it. But Jake wouldn’t let him; no he wouldn’t let him run. He wouldn’t let him live.
Suddenly a light, a torch, entered his field of vision, blinding him and momentarily stopping his actions before a heard a voice, a different voice, this one had a British accent, say, “Jake I presume?”
Jake turned, knife pointed towards this new threat, and tried to make out an outline in the dim torchlight, “Who’s asking?”
“My name is Arthur Kirkland. I’m a trooper from the next town over,” he spoke calmly as if trying to calm a wild animal, “I believe you have something that doesn’t belong to you.”
“You think so?” Jake grinned as he continued staring at the light, “This jumbuck here is mine.”
“That’s my jumbuck,” the voice said again, “and I want it back.”
“Well no one asked you!” Jake shouted into the air, “Nobody’s listening to you!”
“Who are you talking to?” the trooper asked as he took a step forward.
“No one,” Jake snarled, clutching the sheep closer as he backed away towards the river, “Stay back!”
“I’m trying to help you!” Kirkland took another step closer, “If you have something that’s not yours-”
“It is mine!” he shouted, taking several steps back and swinging the knife threateningly, “If you can’t say otherwise it’s mine! I found it so it’s mine.”
“That’s my jumbuck-”
“And I’ll not have you say any different!”
“Jake!” Kirkland snapped, “If you just calm yourself and let me see the jumbuck-”
“No!” Jake growled and tensed, ready to pounce at any moment.
“That’s my jumbuck-”
“And I’ve had just about enough out of you!” he screamed at the sky.
“If you would just be reasonable-”
“That’s my jumbuck-”
“-I’m sure we can solve this whole mess-”
“-And I want it back-”
“-If you just let me see the jumbuck!”
“-If you don’t give it back, you’ll die.”
“Would you both just leave me alone!” Jake shrieked and tossed his knife.
Kirkland dodged it on reflex, “There’s no one here but me! I don’t know why you’re so…what are you doing?”
Jake backed up until he was standing right on the riverbank, teetering over the edge, maniacal grin plastered on his face, “Try and follow me here!”
Still clutching the sheep, Jake tipped backward into the river and let himself fall.
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Arthur was able to fish the sheep out of the river, a little shaken, a lot wet, but relatively unharmed. He was not able to find any sign of Jake, alive or dead.
He scratched the sheep’s head, and he gave a happy little baa, as he approached the site where he left Taylor, “Well I found your sheep. He’s perfectly alright, if a little wet.”
“Ah, Tonga!” Taylor beamed as Arthur handed him over, “Thank you so much! This means the world to me.”
“Yes, well,” Arthur cleared his throat, “It’s my job after all. Unfortunately Jake jumped into the river and I wasn’t able to stop him. I’m not sure where he’s run off to-”
“You don’t need to worry about that Mr. Kirkland,” Taylor smiled and nuzzled Tonga, “He’s dead.”
“Dead?” Arthur blinked and stared, “You say it so easily. How can you be so sure?”
“It’s quite alright,” Taylor reassured him, “He got what was coming to him.”
Arthur caught a glint in Taylor’s eye that made him take a reflexive step back.
“I don’t like it when people steal jumbucks.”
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Also, That Fucking Island, very apt name for the place. Love it.
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