With cavalier attitudes, many of the prisoners ignored the African Government’s clause regarding non-violence. Their checkered pasts were suddenly wiped clean. They were free. True they had to renounce their American citizenship . . . but they were finally home. However, what the prisoners did not realize was the African Government was keeping a very close eye on these new ex-American ex-prisoners. Deek sensed trouble immediately. He wasted no time leading his Lompoc group away from the violence and dysfunction, and settling by a quiet watering hole. Unbeknownst to all, Deek would ultimately save his Lompoc brethren from fatal bickering between the prison groups, tribal neighbors ready to eliminate the ex-prisoners the second they landed on their turf, and most frighteningly, the large hungry lions lurking in the swaying grass. What the Lompoc tribe discovered though was being singled out, because they were the group that had followed the rules, and relocated to a barren island held just a different version of Hell.
Deek’s Journal:
Two huge glistening dorsal fins broke the choppy water and sliced through the battling waves. Both sharks proceeded to rip apart, what now appeared to be small in comparison, the remainder of an enormous bull sea lion. At that moment it all made sense why the herd of sea lions huddled desperately upon the rocky shoreline. Once inside the water they became the chosen meal for the handful of great whites that lurked along Reaper Island’s waterline. I knew with more certainty our Lompoc tribe would never escape this place. No wonder the African’s that left us here could not wait to return to their mainland. All of us ex-prisoners were trapped, and never would we consider this unrelenting pile of rocks home.
