Scout's Honour - TCT - Part 6

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A soft snow blanket covered the ground as more flakes fell from the white sky. Huge bare trees towered above the deathly silent forest, and only the sound of the freezing wind and a crackling fire could be heard.

A lone young man limped toward the wreckage. A ruby trail of blood dripped down his pale face, splashing against his bare chest.

He had woken only a moment ago, and was yet to fully understand what had happened. His mind was numb, his ears rang loudly, and he was in pain, but couldn't work out where.

Ethan's clothing had nearly been completely ripped from his injured body. One of his shoes and socks was gone, and he could feel the cold snow beneath his bare foot. His shirt hung to his lean body by mere fibres, and his trousers were sliced to shreds.

He fell to his knees. A shooting pain ripped through his body and he cried out. Where was he?

The young man wiped blood from his face as droplets of it inked the white snow beneath him. Part of the jet burned ferociously in the distance, black smoke billowing into the chalky sky as Ethan pushed on.

He couldn't make sense of it. They'd been flying, him and Corey had been in the restroom, the flamboyant flight attendant was there. He shook his head, that wasn't it.

Corey. Where was he? Ethan scanned the wreckage as he reached it. A strong, heavy stench of fuel filled his nostrils.

They'd been on a different plane. This plane.

Ethan grabbed hold of a sharp shard of steel and pulled it back. A man sat in a chair before him, and it was instantly clear that he was dead. Ethan stared at him, horrified and suddenly it came back to him. It was the pilot.

"No" he groaned, shoving the body, "don't be dead!"

He knew it was useless, but the teenager continued pushing and pulling the dead pilot as tears mixed with blood on his cheeks.

He looked back through the carnage. What was left of the small jet was almost fully destroyed. Sets of chairs had been ripped through the large hole in the back. Ethan's eyes darted through the darkness, hoping to find any signs of life, but none were found.

As the young scout frantically searched, he became more aware of the painful cold that was biting at his half naked body. Every breath he took seemed to freeze his lungs, and suddenly he was shaking.

"COREY!" He howled, wincing with pain, "COREY PLEASE!"

It was useless. The jet wasn't large enough for there to be any hiding places, and so Ethan, with tears in his eyes, dragged himself back out into the snow white forest.

It was bitterly cold, and despite the fact that it was now daytime, it seemed to be getting even worse. The snow whipped around and the longer that Ethan stood in place, the more he realised that a blizzard was brewing.

"FUCK!" He screamed into the air, and fell to his knees once again.

Where was Corey? Where were the rest of the scouts? Had they all been killed too? The idea that Ethan was alone out here made him weep painfully. He'd die on his own, and with the worsening weather, it would be sooner rather than later.

What was the point in trying to survive? He didn't know a thing about surviving in the wilderness, and if Corey was gone, he didn't want to anyway.

He was tired now, and it was a strange tiredness. His eyelids were heavy and Ethan lay on the cold, soft snow and curled up. The pain inside him began to falter, becoming less intense by the second. It felt nice here, even slightly warmer. He'd just sleep for a while, and perhaps when he woke he would find the energy to get out of here, but for now, he'd rest.

***

Snow crunched underfoot and it became louder and louder until hands closed around Ethan's limbs, and then he was moving. He wasn't sure if he was dead or if this was another strange, terrifying dream.

The sheet of thin ice that had formed over his cold, half naked body, broke off as Ethan was hoisted into the air. He tried to open his eyes but they'd been frozen shut. Had the scouts come to rescue him? If so, why weren't they talking? Why weren't they checking to see if he was alive?

He listened closely, desperately attempting to identify the people carrying him. He could hear breathing, but nothing else, until finally one of them spoke.

"Perhaps the others are alive too, then" a strong Russian accent growled, and Ethan's heart sank.

"I doubt it" another replied, "Andrei said they would all be dead by now".

"Yes" the first man continued, "but this one is not".

After a few more minutes, the heat from Ethan's limp body melted the frost from his eyes and they flickered open ever so slightly. It was dark except for the dancing orange flame that one of the four men held.

"What will happen to him?" A new voice asked, and this person sounded younger and more innocent than the others.

"Andrei will decide that, Daniel" came the response, "there's not enough meat on him to feed us, and he won't be eating any of our food. I don't know why we can't leave him for the wolves".

"There are plenty of uses for him, Viktor" another voice said, "Andrei will probably have us turn him into a woman" he laughed.

"Perhaps it's not such a bad idea" Viktor scoffed back, "with a cock like that, he won't miss it".

Three of the four young men laughed as Ethan did his best to remain limp.

"But his friends" the first boy pressed, "if they are alive, they'll come looking for him".

"If they are alive" Viktor snarled, "then it will only be for a short time. These Americans will die by morning".

It was becoming more and more difficult for Ethan to feign unconsciousness. It had taken him a moment to realise who it was that was carrying him through the bitter forest, but slowly it had come back to him.

He remembered them now. He recalled the man who had approached them on the jet, and the idea that he was now in their custody sent a shiver up his spine.

"We will need to hunt in the morning" Viktor said, his strong hand still squeezing Ethan's bare ankle tightly, "we can bring this one as bate".

"I don't know why we have to be so cruel to him" Daniel sniffed, "maybe he could help us".

All four of the men stopped, and Ethan did his best to contain a gasp as he was dropped onto the snow.

"Him help us?" Viktor hissed, "you think we need his help?"

"N... No I'm just saying –"

"Well don't" he spat, "if Andrei want's to cut off his little American prick so we can all take turns fucking him, then that's what we'll do. If Andrei wants to tie him to a tree and let wolves and bears rip him apart, then that's what we'll do, and if you have a problem with that, then maybe you can join him".

An audible gulp sounded and instantly, a terrified Ethan began to shake.

"Oh look" Viktor sneered, and Ethan felt the man's cold boot against his cheek, "our American friend is awake".

There was no point hiding it now, he'd been caught.

"I don't think Andrei will mind if we have some fun with you before we get back to camp" he continued, as Ethan looked up at him through the snowy darkness.

He was huge, and even under the cover of his heavy clothing, Ethan could see his bulging muscles. The man reached down, and just as his gloved hands began pulling at the remnants of his trousers, something flashed across Ethan's eye line.

A pained grunt sounded, followed by two more, then a forth. Ethan tried to find the source, but the darkness was unlike anything he had ever known before.

Shadows danced around him, the flame had been extinguished and only the sound of grunting and gasping could be heard, and then he felt it.

Hands pulled at him again. He was dragged from the wet snow and thrown over a shoulder. He winced, but had little time to do anything else before he found himself shooting through the trees.

Whoever had him was fast, very fast. As the large tree trunks zipped by him, Ethan could do nothing but hold on for dear life. He was dizzy now, and had his stomach had anything other than three airplane coffees, he would have thrown it up.

On they went, and as the nineteen-year-old strained his neck to look back, he could see more running silhouettes behind him. Were they being chased? His heart raced, and despite the fact that he had no idea who was holding him, he willed them to hurry up.

The others were closing in on them, and then just as abruptly as it had started, everything stopped. The people behind him came to a halt too, and suddenly Ethan could see again.

"Is he awake?" A familiar voice asked, and Ethan closed his eyes as he was lowered, not onto the cold icy ground, but onto something soft and warm.

"Do you think he'll blame the cold for that?" Ross chuckled, and Ethan felt his frozen penis being flicked.

"Hey, find your own" Corey growled, and Ethan's eyes shot open.

Before he could say a word, Corey's arms closed around him and the two of them lay together, tightly embraced as the others stood around them.

"I... I thought... I thought you were dead" Ethan cried, and the tears nearly turned to ice on his cheeks.

"Me?" Corey gasped, "you were the one that was pulled from the jet!"

Ethan's eyes widened as his boyfriend held him.

"The entire row of seats" he continued, "if I'd been wearing a seatbelt, I'd have joined you".

After a few minutes of doing nothing but basking in his boyfriend's arms, Ethan realised how cold he was and shivered.

"W... Where are the others?" He asked nervously, as Ross, Carl and Greg crouched around and began to start a fire.

"Everyone is fine" Corey whispered, rubbing Ethan's face, "we've set up camp with what we could find" he continued, "but it's on the other side of the island".

"Island?!" Ethan almost choked, sitting up and wincing with pain.

"Lay back down" Corey instructed, lowering him onto his back again and pulling a heavy jacket over his half naked body.

"Matthew thinks we're somewhere between Poland and Finland, but nobody knows for sure".

"The pilot" Ethan groaned as a strange feeling began to run through his body, "he called for help before it happened".

Corey nodded, pulling his own hat off and fixing it over Ethan.

"Hopefully it worked" he said, now rubbing his boyfriend's arms thoroughly, "but not much on that damn jet did work".

As the blood began to run through Ethan again, it felt like millions of tiny ants crawling all over him. The fire was now blazing, and for the first time, he could see where he was.

The small camp was as good as any, though it lacked almost everything they'd need to stay here. There was one small tent which Greg was finishing, but other than that and the fire, the area was empty.

"There's more at the main camp" Corey assured him, wrapping his arm around him as the heat of the fire began to wash over them.

"The Russians" Ethan said, and the mere idea of them made him nervous.

"When everybody came around" Corey explained, "they'd already raided half of our stuff".

"Which I'll be getting back" Ross snarled.

"They're a nasty bunch" he continued, "but we couldn't leave until we found you".

Carl and Greg sat down either side of the young men, pressing together for warmth.

"Eventually we had no choice" Corey sighed, "either we stayed there and they killed us, or we ran, and so we made it to the other side of the island and worked out how the fuck we were gonna' get back and find you".

"Bla bla bla" Ross spat, rolling his eyes, "long story short, we found your naked ass just laying in the snow like a dumbass, and we knew you'd gotten there yourself because you weren't there the first time. Just as we headed toward you, the fucking CSKB came out of nowhere, so we followed them and now you're here".

Ethan's head pounded again. None of this seemed real. One minute they were having the trip of a lifetime, and now they were stranded on a deadly island with a group of young men who seemingly wanted to kill them, or worse.

"We'll return to camp in the morning and make a plan" Corey said, "but I think everyone could do with some rest".

The four young scouts clambered into the tiny tent. Each of them was pressed together tightly, but Ethan didn't care. Corey's arm rested over him, and once again, sleep came easily. It had been a terrifying day, but at least he was alive. At least Corey was alive.

For now, anyway.