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As they approached the island, Sterling, the pilot, cut the motor of the jet boat. The sudden silence was eerie. Dead branches and fallen trees twisted out of the water like dismembered limbs. White cranes with their wing and tail feathers trailing behind them like ghostly wisps perched on those dead logs and took no note of the boats. Moss hung off the still standing trees like sticky, green spider webs.

Brody, the co-pilot, who looked exactly like a younger, skinnier version of Sterling grabbed a long pole and used it to help glide the boat toward the dock.

As they approached port, the collection of students from New Directions, the Warblers, and Vocal Adrenaline were all stunned to see a 9-foot-long alligator basking on the dusty sand beach. As the boat approached, the gator slipped into the brackish water and immediately disappeared.

"Where'd he go?" Finn, who had been trailing his fingers in the water as the boat skimmed along, whispered. "I can't see him anywhere." Finn gulped, picturing the alligator, propelled by his powerful tail, closing in on his hand, jaws open, ready to pounce…

Finn let out an inhuman shriek and pulled his hand out of the water.

"Yep, not too smart of an idea to dangle body parts around here." Sterling said.

"Was that a real alligator?" Mercedes asked wide-eyed.

"Yup," The pilot said.

"I want to go home." Brittany whined.

"Yeah, when we won a trip to an island off the gulf shore no one said the island was in the middle of an alligator infested swamp." Santana pointed out.

"Guess you should have read the tourist brochure a little closer." The pilot said. Kurt wondered if he was offended. He did not think it was a good idea to offend the locals. Especially one who hadn't smiled once during the almost half hour trip to the island and who looked like alligator wrestling was something he did for fun in his ample spare time.

"It's strangely beautiful here." Kurt tried.

Blaine gave him a look.

Santana continued oblivious to Kurt's attempts to make nice. "'Cept for the smell. Wonder what could be making that lovely scent?"

"Rot." The pilot said simply as the boat bumped into the wood dock.

Kurt might have chosen to add the adjective decrepit to the description of the dock but still he didn't want to be rude.

Everyone was squashed into the boats. Kurt was pressed up against Blaine. Not that he minded. "Quaint." He whispered.

He felt Blaine's chest rumble with a short laugh, then he felt Blaine's hot breath thrill his ear as his friend whispered, "Is that short for rickety?"

Nobody moved to get up. Sterling had begun talking again. And they were a captive audience. "Alligators are clever fellas. The can stay under water for over an hour. They can hide in the reeds and bushes. Blend right in. Careful of that. Don't go walking around without watching where you are stepping. Blend right in to the water too. They just wait you out. They can go a whole year without eating. Don't mind waiting for the right prey and the right moment to come along. Patient fellas. Nasty fellas." Sterling explained.

Brody pushed through the knot of teenagers to hop onto the dock and tie up the boat. "Careful as you get out. Some of the boards is loose. And this here's not the swimming beach."

"Yeah, we got that." Santana pushed past him refusing his offer of an arm.

Rachel shuddered at the thought of what could be in the water underneath her but then took the co-pilots outstretched hand and held her head high as she walked up to the end of the dock, peeking only occasionally to make sure she was on good footing. Being invited here for private classes with Olivia Divinity Wharton, Opera Diva extraordinaire was the honor of a lifetime-or-one of the first of the many great honors of her lifetime.

Bode did not offer Kurt his hand so Kurt stumbled out of the boat. He heard Sterling's big guffaw behind him. "Not many men around here got footwear like that. Not many women either."

Maybe being nice to the local was not entirely necessary, Kurt thought. Then again, maybe high-heeled boots were also not entirely appropriate for a water arrival on a remote island but Kurt loved the boots and they hadn't fit in his already stuffed suitcase. Ms. Olivia Wharton had style. Kurt intended to impress her.

"Be careful now." Sterling said. Kurt smiled back at him giving him the benefit of the doubt. "I don't just mean don't trip and fall on your face. I mean all of you-you just be careful here on Cranesbill Island."

Wesley and David exchanged a look. They were having second thoughts about having come on this trip. And there was something ominous in Sterling's warning. And something didn't feel right.

Puck was lifting Artie out of the boat and into the wheelchair for the bumpy-being- -an-understatement' ride up to a couple minivans that were parked at the end of the beach.

"If my spine wasn't already severed…" Artie attempted a joke as the chair crashed down over another piece of driftwood.

"Huh?" Brittany asked, "I could try carrying you."

"No, it's okay."

Various Warblers-all in uniform (did they ever wear anything else?)-and members of Vocal Adrenaline were crowding around them in an attempt to get as far away from the water's edge as quickly as possible.

"Hey, watch the cripple!" Artie said as someone crashed into his knee. Which probably would have hurt if he still had sensation there.

"Oh, where?" Brittany asked excitedly looking around.

Artie and Puck exchanged a look.

There was another surprise waiting for them at the minivans. They were greeted by none other than…