Problems

​ Matt remembered the whimpers. Lyle's pleading crept into his mind once in a while, but the non-verbal sounds haunted him far worse. Even as the sea breeze blew through the shore, originating from god knows where, they wouldn't stop. Of course, it was all Ryan's fault, in many ways. The most annoying, in this moment, was his whining about a broken fishing rod.

​ "Shut up already. We have other rods." Raul said.

​ "Yeah, but i liked this one."

​ Raul kicked some water towards the pathetic excuse of a man, but Matt intervened when the roughhousing escalated. After all, Ryan's real reason resonated far deeper than Matt would like to admit. Lyle made that rod, and now, like it's creator, it too was gone. Scavenged string connected to a stick, that's all it was. So, why did he mourn it's loss?

​

​ Finally, a fish tugged at Matt's own rod, nearly dislodging the handle from the sandy hole he dug to prop it up. Three minutes later he caught a fish larger than anything they had seen, let alone caught in the past month. Raul called it a something or other, Matt didn't really care. His hunger lead his being more than his brain, and they were going to eat good tonight. One last meal before they took control of island.

​ Some congratulations from the other two gave his ego a boost, but it dwindled through another hour without even the smallest hit. Raul attempted to stab some with a spear, but no luck. Matt thought about attempting the same, however, he'd rather not join Raul in defeat. It seemed his catch would have to feed them for the day.

​ "Come on boys, another hour on the beach didn't hurt nobody." Raul said, trying to persuade the two to follow his path.

​

​ That was the norm here, but Matt was sick of it. Only, Ryan was too much of a coward to fight against it- or too much of a moron to realize it. Much like himself, Matt thought Ryan a man of the office, but that's where their similarities end in his eyes. Before the, you know what, Matt was closing deals worth six figures almost every month. His juniors looked up to his every move, and his seniors were starting to whisper of a possible promotion.

​ Ryan? Matt could not see the man as anything more than the bottom of the totem pole, maybe even lower. Even as they trekked back to camp, the man would almost disappear from how far he lagged behind. Beyond this, Matt hadn't really thought about Ryan all that much, it didn't seem worth the effort.

​ Raul, on the other hand, was all he could think about. In the real world, Raul would be nothing more than a store manager, maybe regional. Yet, Matt's every move was questioned, as if he knew any better. It was exhausting, which Matt suspected was intentional. The man greeted each day with a smile, as if things were peachy. To an extent, the group was in a fine state, but that was mostly due to Matt's help.

​ "Well he built his own hut, and showed us how to make the rods and spears." Ryan once said when Matt expressed his peeves.

​ "I built my own hut too." He had known looking for companionship in Ryan was a lost cause. The man already spoke about leaving the island multiple times since Lyle's death- as if it were an option. "I made most of the spears."

​ "After he showed you."

​

​ On the way back, Raul had them stop at the local cave, a trove for small rodents alike. They made for a good appetizer, even if it tasted like shit. Raul goaded Ryan into taking his spear and attempting to catch one of the few creatures present. There was little hope, but Ryan offered an acceptable throw, resulting in a rodent being pierced through the abdomen.

​ Raul followed through with a throw of his own, excellently catching one of the scattering rodents. However, Ryan fumbled around the place, preventing Matt from launching his spear. Frustrated sighs left Matt more than once, and it was Raul's turn to intervene.​ However, his intention was not to cut the tension.

​ "It's okay Ryan, at least you pulled your weight." Raul said.

​

​ The rodent stuck on his spear tip still breathes small, exasperated sighs. Matt might have caught the moment life exited it's eyes had he remained calm. However, Matt didn't catch much after that comment. Not Ryan's pleading or Raul yelling obscenities. He could only feel; flesh against fist, bone resonating against each other, the splatter of warm blood beginning to clump and drift down his face. Finally, the thick thump of Ryan's slamming the handle of his spear into the back of his head.

​

​ Matt goes dark for only a second, but it was enough time for his fall to scrape skin off his cheek and chip a tooth on the stone floor. His previously active limbs now refused his commands. Quick spasms of movement turned him on his back, where he saw Raul fumble to crawl and punch his temple. Enough force to dribble his head off the ground, causing his consciousness to slip away a few more instances. Darkness swept over for one final time, and then he was groggily laying in camp.

​ A calm fire danced in the center, flickering embers across his face. He hurriedly sat up, if his slow and disorganized movements could qualify as hurried, and saw Raul across the fire. His eyes took a while to adjust and fully see the mans face, but he knew that silhouette.

​ "You lucky prick." Raul muffled. Purple hues scattered along his faces and swelling shut his right eye closed.

​ "You both share blame here," Ryan said. "Can we both take our share of the blame."

​ Matt turned to see Ryan holding a spear, standing with an usual amount of conviction, paralleling his voice. The other spears were a bit away from the fire, leaning against Raul's hut.Had Ryan protected him the entire time? After the first hit, Raul definitely had an opportunity to kill Matt. Yet, here they were.

​ "What exactly did I do to share the blame?" Matt asked.

​ "Fucking idiot, you tried to kill me. The real question is how am I at fault?"

​ "You both have been goading each other into this ever since we got here." Ryan intervened, but his voice wavered slightly.

​ "Does that justify a murder attempt? Honestly, Ryan you never make any sense." Raul said.

​ "Yeah, Ryan shut up."

​ Things heated up between Raul and Matt, but Ryan's resolve dwindled the more they ignored him. Matt wasn't sure if Raul noticed Ryan clenching his spear, but he sure noticed the coward walking off. As usual, he probably retreated back to his hut, where he would remain until the morning.

​

​ "You're a fucking psycho incapable of controlling your emotions." Raul said. The man rose to his feet, although he remained on his side of the fire.

​ "I wouldn't have attacked if you had an ounce of respect."

​ "That's your big excuse? I got on your nerves? Grow up."

​ "I did grow up. I was a fucking amazing adult, before we got trapped here."

​ "It's always about your past, nothing else matters to you. Guess what? None of *that* matters here- none of it."

​ "You want it to not matter, because if it doesn't then you won't have to admit what me and Ryan already know. You're a loser. That's why you're so secretive about your past, right?"

​ "If anyone's a loser, then it's you. You can't escape the fact you're not the clear leader here. Newsflash, neither me nor Ryan respect you. We would have been better off without you"

​ "I need *nothing* from you, least of all your respect. Me and Ryan would be well off without you."

​ "Everything here was built by me, you want to be the leader but have none of the skills. Yet, you've not so much as thanked me."

​ "I could have easily done everything you did."

​ "Then why didn't you? I was forced to step up, and for the sake of you two, I did. I'm the reason we're still alive."

​ "You're the reason Lyle is dead."

​ Matt caught his breath, letting the impact set in. Raul's face froze, slowly contorting into a sad anger- Exactly what Matt wanted. He knew it would work, for it truly was one mistake, one error for which only Raul could harbor the blame.

​ The first few days made the island seem perfect, and for the most part, no one could argue against it. However, Raul completely dismissed any potential danger. When their large game kept getting stolen, no bells rang in his head. Matt tried his best to warn everyone, but nothing could ever go wrong as long as *Raul* was around. The others, stupid as can be, believed him. Not a single protest against his idiotic frolicking, but Matt knew better.

​ That's why Lyle's disappearance didn't surprise him. The other's took their time realizing what had happened. One scream was all they hear before he was gone from their camp. Three hours they searched, filled with minutes of constant anxiety and seconds of heart battering adrenaline. Neither Raul or Ryan said a word, they simply followed Matt. How good that felt.

​ It was a cave, deep in the heart of the island. They heard him calling out. Lyle "just knew" it was them, or so he said. The Jaguar had left him there, bleeding to death. He was positioned just behind a large rock where no light could touch him. Had he lifted his head, only darkness from the depths of the cave would greet him.

​ There was nothing they could do. He died within minutes.

​ "You're a pathetic excuse of a man." Matt said. Raul only paused for a moment, but Matt could see the moment his guilt left and anger returned.

​ Raul stuttered some obscenities while fidgeting, funnily grunting at his frustration. Matt couldn't fight back a smile. However, the quick movement of Raul grabbing a rock and lobbing at Matt's head sobered him up.

​ "Don't ever compare me to that loser." Raul remained on his side of the fire, standing in silence as Matt laid on the ground in pain. Moments of tension passed with nothing but crackles in the fire. "Shit, Matt are you okay?"

​ Finally, he crossed over, inching closer with a genuine worry. Matt grabbed the rock while sitting up. Blood, his own blood, rushed down his face. A red hue consumed his right eye. Raul had barely lent his hand before Matt swung the rock across, knocking the man out cold.

​ "I'm not letting you get anyone else killed." Matt stared at Raul. Almost lifeless. Had he not seen the gentle rise of the mans back, he would assume the man dead. Everything was limp, with his limbs crossed and folded in ways Matt cringed at. "No one else."

​ He walked to Raul's hut and retrieved a spear, Raul's spear. The walk back was interrupted many times by hesitation, but Matt reluctantly reached his unconscious companion. Once there, all his reluctance had spent and he stabbed the man in the back of the neck. Next, the back, aiming for his heart. When the man screamed awake and turned over in pain, Matt stuck in straight through his face. Limp.

​ The details didn't register in Matt's mind. He could only see the big picture for what it was.

​ Ryan must have been in his hut. Matt didn't care to spare another glance to Raul's body, so he turned to find Ryan. There was no rush, he walked over- steps soft and consistent.

​ Empty.

​ "Ryan!" Matt searched the camp, but all he found were footprints leading out the camp. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Ryan!"

​ They were clearly defined, not disappearing the entire way through the forest. Even in the night solely illuminated by moonlight, he did not lose the trail. Neither forest nor clearing could stop him. Even when it ran through stone, the mud on Ryan's feet left residue. He hadn't realized it, but the trail lead him to spots they had already been to on the island. The cave where Lyle died, the rodent infesting hunting ground, then finally, the beach.

​ Upon his feet touching sand, Matt knew the destination. He clenched his spear. When he reached the tides, the steps faded into soft tides carried by the same sea breeze. He walked until he was knee deep, but couldn't continue on the same path as Ryan.

​ The moon shone down, it's white light strung through the ripples of the water. From the shore to the horizon, where at the very end, he thought there was something moving in the water.

​ "Congrats Ryan, I'm really proud of you."

​ When he walked back on shore, Matt wondered how he would face the Jaguar alone. It was something he would have to do. Something he couldn't give up on. Perhaps it was a problem for another day, but as the edge of the forest moved and shrubbery cleared away, he knew it was a problem no longer avoidable.