HENRY

Standing in the living room I can't believe how nervous I am. My ahnds twist together but when I realise what I'm doing they flatten anxiously against my sides. I don't want to make Abby nervous too. Everything has gone exactly as I planned, no reason to screw that up now just because I'm nervous about starting my new life. Our new life. A smile creeps across my face at the thought of our future together. The perfect lie we will have here together.

A creak from the stairs makes me start. Is that her? Taking a deep breath I move swiftly into the dining room. The sun is streaming through the French windows, the trees making a dappled shadow pattern against the wooden floor. It is beautiful. And the girl standing amidst the sunlight is the most beautiful sight of all. My heart flutters nervously at the sight. I thought that only happened in Victorian novels but nope, here it is, happening to me.

She still hasn't seen me. She's looking around the kitchen, her eyes running over the empty benches and covered furniture. Is she remembering the happy times we had here? So many long summer evenings spent running in and out of this kitchen, keeping out of reach of my supposed parents as they tried to send her home. But we never let anythign separate us then. I won't now.

"Hey there," I call out to her softly, not wanting to startle her in the silent room. She gasps and spins around. I wait for the shocked expression to leave her face but she only stares at me with horror and confusion and...fear? No.

I give a short laugh to break the tension. "I didn't think I would be this nervous." Clearing my throat I flatten my hands against my pants again. I have wanted this for so long but suddenly I'm struggling to look at her. She's still staring at me with the same expression. This was not quite how I had imagined it but I suppose it is early days. I have to be accommodating of initial surprise.

I move towards her. "You want something to eat?"

Trying to pretend I didn't notice the way she jumps back, away from me, I stride into the kitchen.

"No," she says shortly, clearly still confused.

I turn to face her. "It's okay, I'll explain everything," I say in my most reassuring voice. There isa long silence as I wait for her to smile, to thank me. I watch her closely, observing every movement, as she looks around her wildly.

"What did you do?" she asks me.

I can't help but smile a little as I look at her. This is better. This is what I need, only to explain why I have done this. Once she knows everything it will be so different. I feel my nervousness disappear.

"I chose you. Over him."

There. It was said now. I will choose her over every other human on this planet. I would kill them all if it meant we could be together.

I hesitate as she begins backing away from me again. There is less than a metre between us and all I want to do was reach out and touch her.

Blinking, as if to dispel her confusion, she shifts from one foot to the other.

"Wakefield's your father?" she asks in a tone that to anyone else would seem calm, but to me, who knows her so well is clearly filled with fear. I can understand it. The man has always been a dark legend in her life. He has tainted her childhood with darkness just as much as he has tainted my adulthood with light. But he isdead now. My father, my true father, was dead. She didn't have to be afraid of him anymore.

I incline my head slightly, not wanting to take my eyes from hers. She gasps silently and begins to stumble backwards. I move towards her instinctively, my hands open, surrendering.

"No more secrets Abby."

She flings a hand out to me. "You stay away from me!" she cries before turning and fleeing to the glass doors. Desperately she tries the handle. I stop moving towards her and decide to let her try. Maybe she needed this. It wasn't fear of me I told myself, it was fear of change. Things were going to be different, but they were going to be better. She would realise that in her own time.

ABBY

The handle won't open. I can feel his presence behind me but somehow I know he isn't going to hurt me. Not yet anyway. I have to get away from this house. It's crazy. The words coming from his mouth make no sense. How can he be Wakefield's son? He's Henry. My Henry. My mind refuses to believe that this man, this boy, who I had known longer than anyone else in this world is a killer. A killer who has murdered everyone I loved and everyone he loved. Oh my God...did he kill Trish too?

"Abby there's nowhere to go!" he exclaimes, not menacingly, but more like he is confused at my attempts to break through the door. I push past him to try the other door handle. It doesn't budge either. I slam my hand against the glass in frustration before turning to the kitchen. Randomly I begin to pull open drawers, looking for something, anything, to use as a weapon. I would feel so much better right now with a large knife in my hand. But they are all empty. And he just stands there, watching my frantic attempts. I slam the last drawer closed and back up against the cabinet, facing him but prepared for flight...or fight. I no longer believe he won't hurt me. The realisation that he has killed his own fiancé has left me terrified and panicked. He isn't just sick he is utterly crazy. He has to be to do the things he has and still think I would trust him. With this thought I felt myself go cold. He wants my trust, so what will happen when I didn't give it to him. Because I couldn't. No matter what depended upon it I know that there was no way I could pretend to go along with him. I had to escape this house.

"Abby...I-I'm not going to hurt you." His voice falters, like her was upset by my response. He wears an expression like a child whose performance doesn't get the applause it deserves from his parents. The faces of all our friends and family flash into my mind and with it their deaths. How dare he say he wasn't going to hurt me, after he has killed so many people!

Realising there is something on top of the counter I pick it up. Only after I have hurled it at him in outrage do I realise that it's a glass vase. He flinches to the side, just in time as the vase smashes into a million crystals against a chair not 30 centimetres from him.

He isn't watching me. I take the opportunity to sprint back up the stairs. I feel the banister dig into my hands as I hurl myself up the stairs. I wait for the sound of his footsteps behind me, for his hands to pull me back to the kitchen but I arrive back at the bedroom door and nothing has stopped me. I crash through the door and throw myself against it to prevent him getting in. There is no lock on the inside of the door so I use my weight to hold it closed, tensed and expecting to feel him forcing it open at any second. But nothing happens. I can't hear his footsteps on the stairs and there are no noise other than my own ragged breathing.

HENRY

I duck as she throws the glass vase at me. It smashes not far from where I stan. I am getting more and more confused by her panic. I knew there would be...adjustments, but surely she can see that I truly care for her, that I have done everything for us. I choose not to pursue her as she flees up the stairs. I smile, knowing she will head straight back to the bedroom. That's alright, there is no way out from there, and as least then she will have to listen to what I have to say. She will understand.

I stepp lightly up the stairs, avoiding the places where I know there are creaking floorboards. The carpet muffles my footsteps as I approach the door. She has shut it, not surprisingly, but I know she's in there. I can hear her breathing through the door, broken by the occasional sob. I gently place my hand flat against the door, imagining I am touching her.

"Abby?" I call gently. I hear her sharp intake of breath but she doesn't reply. "Abby I'm sorry it's worked out like this but it's going to be okay. It's still me." I laugh, hoping that she will hear it in my voice and realise that I haven't changed. I am still the same little boy she has grown up with. It's just that now I know who I am, and what I want.

"And I can wait. We have all the time in the world. Just like you wanted. Remember? When we were kids and you used to hate that I had to leave?"

I paus, imagining the look on her face as she remembers us as children. All through college and after, when I had been miserable, I clung to those words, whispered between children, between best friends. She has wanted this just as much as me. We were meant to be together and no one could stop us, not my fake parents, not her dad, not even my real dad, once I found him. He had wanted me to kill her too but he didn't understand. No one did. Except Abby.

"Remember what you said to me?"

Flashback

The waves were rolling gently into the cove as we hopped down the last of the steps. I held the soccer ball clutched under my arm.

"I don't want you to go either," Abby said. "But you'll be back next summer right?"

Warmth filled me she looked at me, expectant, pleading.

"Yeah" I replied, feeling angry at the unbearable amount of time until I would be able to see her again.

She leaned in smiling and whispered in my ear. "I wish you could live here with me forever, just the two of us."

I huge smile broke across my face. I couldn't hide how happy her words made me feel.

End flashback

A similar smile is on my face now, as I remember that moment.

"Now we can. You and me. Alone. Forever."

I hear the faintest noise through the door. It sounds like a gasped no, but I tell myself it couldn't have been. Again I reach out and place my hand on the door.

"Abby?" I call hopefully but am met only with silence. Disappointed I let my hand trail down the door. I sigh and turn away.

"Just come downstairs when you're ready."

ABBY

I slide down the length of the door, panic flooding through my veins. My heart is beating so loudly in my ears it almost drowns out his voice. Almost.

"Just come downstairs when you're ready."

I hold my breath, desperate to hear the sound of his footsteps receding down the hallway. There, I can hear it. I exhale shakily, realising that now I am alone. Drawing my knees up to my chest I sit with my back to the door. I run trembling hands through my hair. Suddenly the panic wells up in my throat and ghastly sobs escape me. I cover my face with my hands and try to breathe deeply. I can't fall apart. Not yet. I have to get away from this house, from this island, from Henry.

Slightly calmer now I wipe unshed tears from my eyes and survey the room. I know the house is on the cliff top and as I can see the ocean through the window. There is no chance of escape from this room. I will have to go downstairs. But first I have to find a weapon. Henry is not going to let me just waltz out of the house and down to the jetty. Oh God. What am I going to do once I get there? I have no idea how long it has been since the fire in the church. Is there anyone left on the island? Surely all the locals have been evacuated but perhaps hopefully there are investigators or something still out there.

Well I will just have to deal with that when I come to it. I know this island. Granted so does Henry but I am sure I can find some way back to Seattle.

My eyes fall upon the framed photographs on the wall. Leaping to my feet I pull one down. My reflection stares back at me from the glass. My hair and eyes are wild, I barely recognise myself. With a yell I throw the picture hard against the wall. The glass and frame shatter and I spring forward to grab a large shard of glass.

"Abby?" I hear Henry call from below. "I'm coming up!"

Brushing my hair out of my eyes I grip the glass in one hand and pull open the door. I meet him halfway down the stairs. He stops dead when he sees the glass shard pointed directly at his chest. He keeps his eyes upon it as he backs down the stairs. I follow him, anger momentarily chasing away my fear.

"We were kids," I say, waving my weapon at him. "Don't blame me for what you've done."

He bows his head, conceding, and continues to back away from me, through the hall and back into the kitchen.

"You're sick. You need help," I spit at him. His eyes haven't left the tip of glass. I realise that it is cutting into my hand where I hold it tight. A trickle of blood creeps down my hand but I don't feel it.

"Were you going to marry Trish?" I ask him.

He shakes his head sadly which only makes me angrier. "The wedding was the only way I could think of to get you back to the island."

My mind is numb with horror at his words. It is so...cold, so unbelievably cold.

"But...everyone's dead" I whisper in shock, more to myself than to Henry.

"They had to go," he says in a calm tone. How can he be so cavalier about the deaths of everyone we cared about? He opens his hands again and shrugs like it is no big deal. "They were in our way."

We are back in the middle of the kitchen by now, the sun still streaming in through the windows, emphasising the dust as it floats up from the floor beneath us.

"Wakefield killed my mum and dad," I find myself saying as my mind processes everything. My blood feels like ice in my veins as, slowly, I realise. I stare at him in utter amazement. "She...was your mum too."

A dark look passes across his face for the first time. "She threw me away," he mutters angrily.

But I barely hear him as everything falls into place in my mind. It was as if a mist has lifted and suddenly the true horror of the situation is clear to me. I hear myself gasp. "You're my brother," I whisper, barely audible but he still hears me. The dark look is still upon his face.

"I can do the math," he murmurs, still staring at me intently. He shakes his head slightly and suddenly looks lighter, like he truly believes it means nothing. He takes a step towards me.

"Abby. It doesn't matter. No one else knows. Hell, the Dunns never told me. You know how that felt?"

"I don't care how that felt," I spit at him, shaking my head angrily.

He stares at me for a second before taking a deep breath. "Alright you need to know this now," he states, like he has come to some huge conclusion. "I'm going to tell you everything. How I learned the truth. I met Wakefield the day of the rampage-"

I can see in his eyes that he is going somewhere. Christ, he is reliving the memory of the day he met that killer. And he looks so...happy I realise in disgust.

"-I didn't know he was my father then," he continues. "But when I looked at him? There was a connection."

I can't believe what I am hearing.

"Connection?" I ask him in shock. It is almost so ridiculous I laugh. "With the man who hung my mother from a tree!"

"Kind of weird huh?" he replies smiling. "I was inspired by the guy that everyone else feared and hated."

I lift the glass higher, pointing it again at his chest as I struggle to take in what he is saying.

"Abby you don't need that." He waves at the glass shard dismissively.

I ignore him. "You knew Wakefield was alive all these years? That my dad hadn't killed him?"

"Yeah"

"How?" I demand.

"About a year after the rampage he tracked me down. He told me I was his son. That he'd been searching his whole life for me. Do you know how powerful that is? That kind of love?"

I shake my head in disgust but he laughs light-heartedly.

"Oh this feels great. We should have had this talk a long time ago."

I feel my hand shaking where I hold the glass. "No..." I whisper. I look up at him sharply. "The Henry I know isn't a killer."

He gazes at me for a second, unfocused, before speaking. "I've always had certain...impulses. I just didn't understand them until I met my dad. The Sheriff was right. About Wakefield being at those murder scenes in Seattle and Tacoma. He just wasn't the one doing the killing." His gaze focuses on me once more. He smiles. "It's harder than you think. You couldn't do it. You couldn't kill Wakefield. It takes practice."

I realise I am gaping at him, unable to form words for a second. Finally I manage to utter something at him. "I've- I've know you my whole life!"

His eyes are warm and glittering as he sidles towards me. "Abby, it's all over. It's done." He shrugs. "I'm done killing. I am not my dad! He thought you had to destroy the one you love to be complete. "

"He wanted you to kill me?" I gasp in realisation.

"I could never do that," he insists, shaking his head violently at the thought. He takes a determined step towards me and I jump backwards. "I could never do that!" he repeats, stronger. "That's how I'm different from him."

He holds my eyes and stops moving. "He chose death." My hand is shaking more violently now. I hold my breath, waiting for his next words. He smiles again. "I choose life with you. I love you."

"NO!" I scream, throwing the glass at him. He turns away as it splinters at his feet and I leap towards a telescope to my side. Lifting it with strength I am surprised I possess I smash it through one of the glass doors. A cascade of tiny crystal pebbles falls through my clothes, my hair and scatters across the wooden floorboards. As I hear him start forward behind me I fling myself through the hole in the glass and out onto the decking. Without a moment hesitation I run into the trees by the side of the house. The rocks and path are slippery with moss in the shade of the great trees and I slip a few times, pushing myself up with scratched and bleeding hands. Anything to get away from him. I hear his breathing behind me, the thuds as he too falls down and his breathless voice calling my name.

I have no idea where I am going and I know there is no way I can outrun him for long. I need to find something to use as a weapon. Seeing the wooden sheds in front of me I hurtle towards them and push through the rotting door.

Stopping short I look wildly around me, desperate to find a knife or a gun or something hanging from the rafters. A noise startles me and I turn.

Jimmy!

He is tied to a pole, a rag around his mouth. At the sight of me he begins struggling against the ropes.

"Jimmy?" I breathe. Captivated at the sight of him I am too stunned to remember what I have been running from until I hear the sound of Henry running through the door behind me and I feel his strong hands grab me around the neck and haul me backwards out of the shed.

I splutter out Jimmy's name, unable to see him anymore and hear the sound of Henry slamming the door shut once more.

HENRY

Angrily I steer her back into the house. She is yelping but not at the pain of my grip, she is calling out for Jimmy. I fling us both through the hole in the glass door, the pebbles of glass crunching underneath our shoes.

"You weren't supposed to find him!" I growl, angrier at myself than her. I push her into the kitchen and frown, trying to work out how I was going to handle this.

She spins around at me, and I feel a jab of pain to see she is crying. "Let him go," she sobs, pleading with me.

"Look my dad wanted to kill him a long time ago!" I reason with her. "But I wouldn't let him."

"You used Jimmy!" she shouts at me furiously. "Every time he showed up it made him look more guilty. You and Sully were ready to blow his head off!" Her tears are all gone, replaced by anger. It hurts just as much to feel her anger directed at me.

"You should be thanking me!" I yell back, incredulous.

"Stop lying Henry!"

I stop, speechless in face of her accusation. She takes a deep breath.

"Why is he alive?" she asks me, no longer shouting.

"He's not. None of us are." She stares at me, not completely understanding. "As far as the world's concerned we all burned to death in the fire. "

"What did you do?" she breathes, eyes glistening with tears.

"Provided closure," I explain calmly. "The police will find blood samples to support our deaths. And no one will come looking for us!" She turns away from me, a look of exasperation on her face. "They'll find my father's body in the fire as well and the legend of John Wakefield will grow and gro-"

"Why is Jimmy alive?" she interrupts me, each word sharp and deliberate.

I glance away, unwilling to reveal my plan to her. I saw her reaction upon catching sight of Jimmy in the shed. I can't be completely sure she will understand the plan.

"No more secrets, remember?" she warns.

Caught in my own trap I resign myself to telling her.

"Shea and Madison got off the island. That wasn't part of the plan. They know that someone let Wakefield out of his jail cell. "

"You're setting Jimmy up as Wakefield's accomplice?"

The coldness of her tone cuts me. "I'm doing it for you," I reason defensively. "For us. So that no one will come looking for us. So that we can live our lives together. Jimmy will sign a confession an-"

"No. He'll never do it" she declares, shaking her head but refusing to look at me.

"Yes he will," I insist. "Now that he's seen you. He'll do it for you."

"And then what?" she asks aggressively. "Then you'll kill him?"

Her tone is making me angry. I am doing all this for her after all. "Look. Abby. I've had to make a lot of hard choices for us to be here. He's the last one. I swear."

I wait impatiently for her to answer, to accept it, perhaps to thank me. Instead I am startled by her sudden movement as she flees towards the stairs again. She is fast but I am faster. I grabb her before she gets through the doorway. Ignoring her cries I march up the stairs and kicked open the bedroom door. My patience is thinning.

"I know this is hard on you," I say as kindly as I can, tossing her onto the bed. "But we both have to make sacrifices. It's going to be fine." I promise as I turn back to the door and close it behind me. I stand in the hallway listening to her sobbing inside. Sighing I turn the lock and head downstairs to get things ready.

...

A few hours later I walk quickly up the stairs. I listen at the door for a few seconds before turning the lock but there is silence from the other side. I feel a twinge of anxiety at the silence and hurriedly open the door. My heart beat evens out again when I see her lying on the bed. She is facing away from me, curled up on her side. I stand silently for a few seconds, gratefully watching the rise and fall of her chest.

Walking forward slowly I sit down cautiously next to her on the bed, waiting for her fiery response. Given her behaviour when we last parted I expect her to resist me. Carefully I reach out, hesitating only a second before gently brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"I just want things to be the way they were," she murmurs in response to my touch. I stop but leave my hand resting on top of her head. "Before all of this."

"They will be," I comfort, glad that she is finally accepting this. Smiling I stroke her hair again. "Jimmy agreed to sign a full confession. It's all working out, just like I promised. But he won't sign it unless I let him say goodbye to you."

"I can't," she breathes.

"You have to. I'll wait for you downstairs." With that I get up and move away. I throw one last glance over my shoulder at her before closing the door.

ABBY

We walk the same route I had sprinted last time. This time though, instead of Henry's pounding footsteps behind me, he is beside me, gripping my elbow tightly and guiding me through the trees. I stumble over a rock and feel him catch my weight.

"Careful," he said kindly. He keeps glancing at me with a smile on his face. I work as hard as I can to ignore him. I don't have the energy to fight him unnecessarily. I will need it all for later.

We arrive at the sheds and my nervousness increases. Henry glances at me worriedly before easing open the door. He surveyes the room for a second before leading me inside. My eyes instantly fly to Jimmy, exactly where I left him. There is complete silence in the shed except for the eerie creak as Henry closes the door behind me. I shuffle into the middle of the room, staring intently at Jimmy. Henry walks up beside me, studying my face.

"Say goodbye," he urges quietly, glancing between Jimmy and I. When I don't move he calls my name softly and placs a hand on my back. Unnerved by his touch I move away, stumbling towards Jimmy, staring silently at him, trying to memorise every detail of his face.

Tears creep back into my eyes as I return his hopeless gaze.

"I'm sorry I left," I whisper shakily. "I thought about calling every day."

I can feel Henry's angry eyes on my back. In a moment of panic I pull the gag from Jimmy's mouth and kiss him desperately. I lift my hands and entwine my fingers in his hair, just as I hear Henry storm forward and rip me away from him.

"That's enough!" he growls at me, roughly pulling me backwards. I smile, knowing I have managed to pass Jimmy the picture hook I took from my room. Maybe, just maybe he can escape now.

"I love him," I spit tauntingly at Henry, no longer caring. I feel the sting on my cheek as he hits me abd I crash into the workbench. Crouched on the ground near his feet I spot a screwdriver lying a few inches from me.

"Ugh, I shouldn't have done that," Henry is muttering, pacing angrily. "Ugh, come on let's go," he says as he leans down to me.

"Get the hell away from her!" shouts Jimmy, distracting Henry just long enough for me to plunge the screwdriver into his foot. He cries out in agony and doubles over as I pick myself up and fling open the door, sprinting out into the woods. I hope that if I can lead Henry away long enough then Jimmy will have the opportunity to escape. That is all that matters.

I hear him calling my name as he pursues me between the trees, over the rocks and up some steps. I run like my life depends upon it. It probably does depend upon it now.

"Abby! If anyone else is left on the island they're miles away."

"Abby! Wait!"

I ignore his cries behind me.

Suddenly, gasping for breath I am forced to come skidding to a halt as I come up to the cliff over the cove. The very cove where this had all started so many years ago, with those innocent whispered words between children. Look how far we have come.

I spin around wildly, searching for an escape but Henry is close behind me, and quickly has me cornered. He is carrying a large boarding knife.

"Abby, stop," he pleads as he approaches, waving the knife carelessly in my direction. I look hopelessly down the cliff face, my only escape.

"I didn't want it to be like this," he cries. I can clearly hear the anguish in his voice but I don't care anymore. He is not the boy I had been friends with all those years ago.

"I know what you did," I state. "You told Jimmy you'd kill me if he didn't sign a confession."

He looks at me pitifully, shaking his head in confusion. "Abby I could never hurt you. Everything I've done I did for us. I'd die without you."

I nod at the knife in his hand. "Is that why you have that boarding knife?"

Glancing at it like he only just realises he is carrying it, he fling the blade down onto the stony rocks of the cove below. I hear it fall the entire way down before crashing at the bottom.

"There. Now do you believe me?" he pleads, his voice pained. "You and this island are my home. You're the only thing that makes sense to me."

I almost laugh at the absurdity of what he is saying. "None of this makes sense. You destroyed everything I ever loved!"

He is shaking his head viciously, his face screwed up in pain at my words. Suddenly his face contorts in rage.

"No but YOU HAVE ME!" he bursts out.

At his words I loose my sense of safety, of reality. He has destroyed everything. He has taken everything and everyone away from me.

"I DON'T WANT YOU!" I scream back, not caring what his reaction will be. I shake my head in disgust. I se a light go out in his eyes, he looks defeated and broken in that instant but I don't care anymore. He is nothing to me. He is a monster. A thing of nightmares.

In an instant there is a raging flurry from behind him. Henry doesn't even have time to turn before a figure that is Jimmy thudd into him. The two of them fall straight over the edge of the cliff before I can do a thing. Hearing the thuds and cries as they fall I gasp, clutching my hands to my mouth. I stand frozen for a moment at the top of the cliffs but eventually I am spurred into motion. I sprint to the steps and stumbl down to the rocky beach. There is silence, no cries. I would almost have preferred to hear the sounds of fighting. As I reached the bottom of the steps I see Jimmy's figure lying at the edge of the waves. Glancing around me quickly I run over to him. There is no sight of Henry anywhere. The boarding knife lies next to Jimmy. His face is battered and bruised but he moans when I call his name.

"Jimmy, are you okay?" I cry as I try to gently lift his head off the rocks. He opens his eyes a fraction and shakes his head ever so slightly. I lay his head down again but he lifts it suddenly, his attention caught by something behind me. I feel his presence before I hear his footsteps and the expression of alarm on Jimmy's face tells me everything I need to know.

Without thinking I pick up the blade lying next to me and spin around, plunging it deep into Henry's body. His hands were reached out to me and a momentary look of surprise passes across his eyes. I gasp at the realisation of what I have done. I can't remove my hands from the handle of the knife.

"Abby?" he murmurs as we sink to our knees, connected through the knife. The expression on his face is heartbreaking. Like a child who has trusted someone, only to be abandoned, alone and cold. Kneeling on the stones he sputters and struggles for breath.

"Bu-"he gasps, gazing at me. "But I love you."

I can't tear my eyes away from his but as I see the life go from his eyes I feel my gaze drift past him. As he collapses onto the stones my hands fly to my mouth. Despite the horrors this man has committed on this island that was once my home, the realisation that I have killed my best friend fills me with terror. Sitting between the man I love, and the man who loves me, as the cold Pacific waters lap against their still forms, I feel the golden light of a sunset against my skin and realise that finally, it is over.