There was a reluctance in leaving the safety of the cave behind. The ground was hot underfoot, charcoal cracking beneath a thicker layer of ash as they stepped out. From their vantage point, much of the island was nothing but blackened skeletons of trees.

Jack adjusted the weight of the stick in his hands. The long sleep had fixed some things and broken others. His body felt raw, twitching at every crack of smoldering wood. Had they really slept a full day in that cave? His stomach certainly thought so.

Simon padded behind, tail held carefully above the dirt. The two brothers gave each other a wide berth. Waking within each other’s arms, tails entwined, had been as disturbing as it was comforting.

Their father pointed.

“We’ll make for the beach. It can’t be more than a mile or two. From there we can circle the island and look for other passengers.”

A mile or two might as well have been ten at their current size. Progress was slow. As Jack scrambled over a burnt log, Simon cried out behind him.

“Look! I found a survivor! Hi there!”

Jack turned. Simon was crouched, reaching toward something in the charred thicket - a hairy, huddled back. Jack froze. The creature’s muscular hide bristled. It turned, curling its tusks toward Simon. Its eyes were milky white and filmy, blinded by the heat of the forest fire. The boar gave a maddened squeal of pain and charged, trotters churning up thick black ash.

“Simon!”

As a man, Simon had been a quarterback. He’d faced men five times the boar’s size without flinching. Now he stood frozen, knees trembling.

Jack’s body sprang with a speed that startled them all - most of all himself, second of all the boar. He interposed himself, thrusting the stick forward. The boar slammed blindly against it, driving itself into the point, the impact thudding along the shaft into Jack’s shoulder. He winced and leaned into it, levering the animal’s momentum away from Simon. It went down in the dirt.

The bleeding boar scrambled to its feet.

“Stab it again!” his father barked.

Jack swung.

“Again!” His shoulder stung from the impact.

“It’s still moving - again!”

The last torrent of hot blood sprayed, and the animal finally went limp. Jack looked down at Simon, who clung helplessly to his leg. He couldn’t bring himself to look back at the boar, afraid of what he’d see.

Their father padded closer and crouched over the carcass.

“Is it… is it a passenger?” Jack asked, swallowing hard.

“Not even Economy Class,” his father said flatly. “It’s just an animal. Don’t worry. Must have been driven out by the fires.” He looked up. “Nice work. You hungry?”"