A/N: Thanks everyone who read and reviewed the story. I'm happy to know everyone, other than myself, is enjoying this new twist to the Hunter episode. Your reviews mean a great deal to me. I would also like to thank those who participated in my GI poll involving the next chapter. I will mention those pennames who gave me suggestions in the next chapter since they deserved to be recognized.

Note: I would also like to inform you all that I change the title and summary of this story a little bit as I thought both didn't sound or fit right with the story. Finally, this chapter is a flashback/memory of what happened before Gilligan fell off the cliff. Oh, and I recently found out I and a few other people here in this fandom had been spelling Kincaid's name wrong. There's a 'c's in it, not an extra 'k's.

Warning: a small mention of religion and torture and hints of rape. Plus, a small part indicating a character's death. No worries, though, as Gilligan is still alive as we obviously see from Chapter One.

I don't own Gilligan's Island, But Sherwood Schwartz does. I'm only play with his characters. This chapter was edited by my new beta, Minch. Thanks a lot for putting up with my horrible grammar mistakes.

Sorry for the long a/n. Enjoy!


Chapter Two

The Memory

Gilligan hadn't stopped running since the last time Kincaid almost managed to get him with his bullet. The former Navy sailor was a fast runner and a very good one at that, but all of this exercise was making him extremely tired. Not to mention the lack of sleep he had the night before. Every time the first mate tried to close his eyes, he would see an image of the hunter, who was about ready to accept his prize. That prize was his dead body. However, someone from above must have been looking out for the youngest Castaway because he managed to obtain four hours of sleep in the cave where he earlier decided to rest for a while. That cave happened to be the very same one he had lived in when he decided to be a lone wolf.

Despite the small amount of sleep and weariness, the hunted Castaway knew he had to keep running. Run like his life depended on it. Because it really did.

A few hours ago, after he left the cave where he slept, he proceeded to pick some fruit for an early and quick breakfast. The former Navy sailor made the mistake of not observing his surroundings, because if he did, he would have seen Kincaid huddling beside some foliage, aiming his hunting gun at his target. If it wasn't for the first mate moving a few seconds before without the man knowing, Kincaid could have won the hunt right then and there. Yeah, that's how close Gilligan came to receiving a bullet in his body.

As much as his instincts were telling him to keep moving, (they were usually right when it came to danger) the first mate had to rest for a few minutes. He had been running for hours now and his lean form made its protest known that it couldn't take much more without resting.

So the young man halted, his back pressed tightly against the palm tree as he sucked large gulps of air into his gasping lungs. His chest hurt from the heavy breathing that he had been doing. His lungs were now receiving the oxygen they needed to survive, but they felt like they were on fire at the moment. The lone Castaway allowed his head to slump all the way back, his lips partially opened as he fought to bring his panting under control. It was useless though, he was winded and his body was so worn out that the exhausted sailor felt as if he could not run another yard, let alone escape the deranged man who was intent on hunting him down like an animal.

Anyone who met the first mate briefly would probably describe him as dumb and too friendly. While the latter might be true since he made a point to be friends with everyone, the former wasn't. Sure, Gilligan struggled in school and it took him a little longer to understand something, but he was actually a very intelligent young man, once you got to know him more than five minutes. He may not be academically smart, but he was intelligent when it came to animals and nature. Because of that, he made friends with the animals instantly and knew the layout of the island as if it was written on the back of his hand.

Now, totally drained of strength, hungry, thirsty (he never had his breakfast), and aching, the young sailor wasn't sure he was going to last the final eight hours left of the hunt. His clothes were still soaking wet when he had run through the waterfall to hide out in another one of his many hiding spots about an hour ago. No one knew about it but Gilligan. Luckily, this wasn't the waterfall they used for bathing or else his secret hiding spot wouldn't have been a secret anymore. However, his clothes were the only thing wet now, unless you count the moisture on his hot and sweaty face. Somehow the water managed to seep in his shoes as he hastily went through and was now sloshing around inside, making his feet damp and sore. The former Navy sailor pulled the tail of his red shirt from the waist band of his light blue jeans and leaned against some rough rock, trying to dry the perspiration from his face.

A gunshot was heard close by and the youngest Castaway's head snapped up, his eyes frantically searching for any movement that might alert him to any danger. But there was nothing for him to see because the first mate was still behind the waterfall and the water wasn't clear enough for him to see through. Despite Gilligan being safe at the moment in his well-hidden spot, he froze against the rocky wall, ears perked up, listening intently for any footsteps or other sounds signaling him that someone was coming.

Gilligan didn't hear another sound for quite some time, so he thought he was safe again. However, just to be on the safe side, he was going to be overly cautious and keep a good eye out for any movement around him. After all, Kincaid could be lurking behind more foliage or a tree, preparing to shoot at him again.

"I better get a move on or else Kincaid will really find me here," the young sailor said aloud to himself, putting a stop to the reminiscing that he had been doing for the past few minutes involving the waterfall.

The first mate gave one last look at the palm tree before taking off once again in the jungle. His legs ached, the bones in his knees seemed to tighten up on him, and it was all he could do to keep going forward. Determined to escape the hunter that was probably a few miles behind him, Gilligan pushed on with the hunt.


(An Hour Later)

-7 hours left -

After drinking some fresh water and eating a banana and mango, the youngest Castaway sat down in the white sand and leaned his back heavily against one of the several large boulders surrounding his new hiding spot. He laid his hands on his thighs and took a few deep breaths. He was resting at the moment, which was risky. Every minute the sailor was stationary was an extra minute in which Kincaid could discover him.

Gilligan's life was on the line, even more now he was resting. However, the first mate knew he wouldn't make it much longer without the nutrients and liquids his body was demanding urgently to have. So the former Navy sailor found another spot to hide and rest, which – lucky for him – happen to be one of the few areas where the water was fresh.

He filled up the canteen he had stolen from the hunter earlier when the man was resting on a knoll and quickly took several mouthfuls of the delicious water. After, the youngest Castaway capped the container and set it down beside him before taking the fruit he managed to grabbed a few minutes ago and hurriedly consumed the food. Now that he had liquids and food in his system, he was feeling a little better. Not much, but enough to energize him for a small amount of time.

Suddenly, a shot loudly rang out, nearly clipping Gilligan on his left arm. The sailor searched for the source of the noise around him, but saw nothing as he quickly moved behind the boulder for cover. Once he was safely behind the huge rock, the youngest Castaway inspected his left extremity. The bullet had ripped the long sleeve on his shirt, but other than that as he rolled up the left sleeve from his limb; the shot had done little damage to him. The first mate allowed a long sigh of relief to escape from his mouth and was just about to take off again when the sound of Kincaid's voice stopped him in his tracks and made his blood freeze inside his veins.

"Hey, Gilligan!" the hunter called out mockingly. "I thought you could do better than this! You have really disappointed me during this hunt, letting me get close enough to you almost every time."

The youngest Castaway heard the man laugh. It was a sinister sound that almost caused him to lose his recently consumed meal and made the hair on the back of his neck and arms stand up. "This is what I will do. I'll give you another head start, but this will be your last safe card. Use the extra time wisely, kid." The sound of his footsteps as they crunched whatever was beneath his boots traveled to the sailor behind his rock. The hunter was close. As to how close, he didn't know without checking, and Gilligan was smart enough to know the man wouldn't hold back should a body part become visible. "I will count to fifty. You have until then before I shoot again. This time, Gilligan, I promise you I won't miss. I'm counting now: One, two, three…"

The former Navy sailor jumped to his feet, grabbed the canteen, and began making his way through the foliage growing in the jungle. He ran as fast as he possibly could, intent on putting as much distance between himself and his pursuer as he could. In his haste in getting away, the first mate wasn't paying enough attention to completely avoid the palm fronds and bushes and felt them as they snagged his clothes. Instead of the small prick one would feel should they get poked by a branch or thorn, Gilligan felt like they were ripping his skin apart as they tore harshly at the fabric of his red shirt and the flesh of his body. However, the sailor paid no attention to the uncomfortable pain.

Both sleeves and pants legs were now ruined and the youngest Castaway could feel the drops of blood as they seeped slowly down his appendage, yet he never took the time to look. Fear, not only for himself, but for the lives of his island family – because Gilligan considered them to be more than friends – forced him to push ahead.

He had two goals. The first was to, at all cost, survive until noon, which was still less than seven hours away. The second was to protect his family by continuing to run and, when the time came, try his hardest to be a buffer between Kincaid and the other Castaways. The young sailor knew once the man got him, he would soon go after his family, instantly breaking his promise of only hunting one of them. Or should Gilligan somehow survive this horrible ordeal, he doubted the hunter would give up the chance to shoot one of them, even when the time limit was up.

No, he must protect his island family. He would willingly pay any price in order to keep them safe from harm.

Even if it meant giving up his life for them.


(Fifteen Minutes Later)

-7 hours and 45 minutes left-

Gilligan's speed was slowing down greatly as fatigue was setting in, yet he forced himself to keep running. The beads of sweat from running dripped down his forehead and into his ocean blue eyes, causing his vision to blur. He quickly wiped his face clean, but it didn't do much good in the end. More droplets of perspiration ran into his eyes soon after the first.

The former Navy sailor continued to push on. Before he knew it, the trees and plants weren't hiding him anymore and, as the first mate looked over his right shoulder, saw the thick foliage and the jungle behind him. Since he was so familiar with the island, which they have been on for almost three years now, the youngest Castaway knew he was near the cliffs and only a few miles away from the lagoon and camp. His breathing was labored, his lungs burned and his legs and feet felt heavy and sore from all the running he had done lately.

A sound of a rifle going off was heard somewhere in the distance. The sailor could hear the bullet flying through the air before it found its target. Gilligan dropped the canteen and fell, the leafy green grass covering the top of the cliff preventing him from becoming hurt worse and stopping any noises his form would have made as he hit the ground. The first mate lay dazed, the wind knocked out his burning lungs before intense pain exploded in his arm, snapping him back to his senses. He grabbed his left extremity and cried out in anguish as both pain and blood spread rapidly. This time Kincaid's bullet didn't miss and, from the looks of it as the youngest Castaway examined his arm, the bullet was imbedded deeply in his limb.

Gilligan lay on the ground for a minute, sucking in much-needed air to fill his deflated lungs and hoping it would lessen the horrible pain somewhat. It succeeded in the former but failed greatly in the latter.

As he tried to rise to his feet, the pain from his wounded appendage sent daggers of agony throughout his already-hurting and tired figure. The young sailor moaned loudly in pain and hot tears welled up in his eyes, but they never fell. He may be hurting, but the young man adamantly refused to show his weakness to Kincaid. The guy was a monster and the former Navy sailor wasn't going to allow the hunter to use his weakness against him.

"Please, whoever is listening right now, help me. My family needs me to be able to get through this alive and I know I can't make it much longer. I'm tired, so tired," the first mate prayed, whispering the words so his tormentor or anyone else nearby wouldn't overhear him. The former Navy sailor wasn't a religious person, but that didn't mean he was an atheist either. He believed in God and His works, he just didn't practice as often as he should. But right now, Gilligan needed help and the only person who could help was Him. Besides, praying couldn't hurt him any worse than he already was.

He slowly and gently hauled his frame up from the ground, trying his best to ignore the hot flare of pain speeding through his arm and, in the end, his whole physique. Furthermore, Gilligan tried his best to ignore the warm, wet, red fluid flowing from his wound and falling on his pants, sneakers, and the ground, but he wasn't having much luck, especially when the sticky body fluid began seeping into his clothes.

The first mate shakily stood on his feet and quickly surveyed his surroundings, freezing like a statue when his eyes caught sight of his tormentor casually leaning against a palm tree and staring at him with a wicked smirk on his face. Kincaid let out an evil laugh and the sailor's heart skip several beats as the man aimed his gun directly at him.

"Well, Gilligan, it seems like your time is officially up," Kincaid taunted the Castaway as he strutted closer. "You have nowhere to go, and now I must end the hunt…by killing my prey."

The young man wobbled dangerously on his feet, all energy he had left inside draining away instantly and causing him to be on the verge of collapsing. "You're crazy," Gilligan stated with a rare sign of anger heard clearly in his voice. "You won't get away with this. Once the others find out you've killed me, they won't let you leave the island alive, I can assure you of that," he said confidently, hoping the fury in his voice was completely covering the fear he was feeling. The first mate didn't want the man to know he was afraid of Kincaid, especially now that he knew his time on this island was almost up.

"You're wrong, Gilligan," his tormentor replied with excitement and bloodlust in his eyes, making the youngest Castaway sick to his stomach. "I will get away with this…because there won't be anyone to rat me out. Oh yes," Kincaid continued on with a wicked laugh that increased in volume when he saw the frightened expression that accidently appeared on the young man's face, "I can see the answer in your eyes and you're correct. Once I'm through with you, I'm going after your friends."

While the hunter was making his little speech, the former Navy sailor was inconspicuously edging around him, so his back wasn't facing the cliff that was only a few feet away. Kincaid didn't seem to notice Gilligan's subtle movements or the fact that his own form unconsciously kept turning with the sailor's, making sure he was facing the young man and not the rocky cliff.

Whatever blood was left in the first mate's face was certainly gone now along with any color, leaving him pale and terrified at his tormentor's new revelation. The former Navy sailor had hope and prayed fervently that, should the man managed to get him, he wouldn't go straight after his island family. Instead, he hoped (which was in his nature to do)that the hunter would immediately take his companion and depart from the island, never once looking back at his family or the hurt and destruction he callously left behind.

But now…now his worst fear was being confirmed. Gilligan was afraid, not so much for himself – his time was up and he accepted that his death was near - but the lives of his family who he deeply cared about. The young sailor never told the other Castaways this, but he looked up to them. Actually, there were so many things he wanted to say and now wouldn't have the chance to. Like how he wished he had the Professor as his teacher during his school years or having such amazing parental figures in Mr. and Mrs. Howell and the Skipper. The sailor wished he could tell Ginger that she was the first movie star he had met in person and how much of an older sister she was to him. And Mary Ann, sweet Mary Ann. How he wished he could tell her that she was the sweetest girl he had ever met and that he treasured their friendship above all the gold in the world.

"I'm going to let you decide, Gilligan."

"Let me decide on what, exactly?" the young man asked in confusion.

Kincaid rolled his eyes in exasperation before answering the former Navy sailor's question. "On who should go first, dimwit! Do you think that big oaf of a captain should be the first one with a bullet in his heart? Or maybe one of the blue-blood rich couple with a lovely hole between the eyes?"

"Shut up," the first mate whispered, horrified at what the man would possibly do to his family. His form trembled in alarm, disgust, and exhaustion as the rifle was still pointed at his heart.

But the hunter didn't hear him as he was lost in his sick fantasy of what killing the other six members of the Minnow would look like and how each would meet their demise. After all, there was more than one way to end a life.

"What about the Professor? Should he go first? Maybe have him undergo a session of torture by me and ending the lesson with the help of a few bullets in his head. That should deflate that big brain of his," the man continued on, mocking the young man with his future plans.

"Stop it," Gilligan said a little louder, irritation emerging in his voice, yet the sick man still didn't hear him, despite there being only several inches between them. The young man's eyes sought Kincaid's, the haunted look in those deep brown eyes disturbed him tremulously and the image seared itself in the former Navy sailor's memory for the short time he had left.

"How about the two girls, hmm? Maybe you would like them to go first, save them from watching their friends die in front of them." Kincaid paused, head cocked to the side with a thoughtful expression on his menacing face. He focused his attention back on the young man several seconds later with a glint in his evil eyes. "You know what? I think I might just torture all of them before killing them, and I assure you, Gilligan, their deaths will be slow and painful as possible. As for the movie star and the farm girl, I think I will shoot them last, but not without having…some fun…with them first. Just imagine, Gilligan, the terrified looks on their pretty little faces, knowing I will have them and no one would be able to save them from me. And maybe I could…" But the hunter never got the chance to finish his sentence.

In that instant, the first mate charged at the man, catching him off-guard for a few seconds. Little did either realize in that moment the small distance between them and the edge of the cliff as both had their focus otherwise occupied. "SHUT UP, I SAID!" Gilligan yelled, enraged as he plowed head first into his tormentor, knocking the man and Gilligan's white sailor hat to the ground, the gun still in its owner's hand.

The hunter quickly stood up and prepared himself, ready for the young man this time. Once again, the former Navy sailor charged at Kincaid. Only this time a few things were different than the first. For one, the man didn't fall and hit the ground as the young Castaway attacked him with physique and right fist. Another was that both men were dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. This time as the sailor punched his tormentor in the abdomen, causing the hunter to lean forward in sudden pain and grab tightly onto the young sailor's injured limb, which made Gilligan gasped in pain. The final thing that was different was that rocks broke apart under Kincaid's feet, causing him to fall down the cliff's rocky side, there was the sound of a rifle firing and the hunter's extremity still attached to Gilligan, forcing the young man to plummet over the cliff with him.

"AGHHH…!" Their blood-curdling screams hung in the air as they fell to their deaths and after barely three seconds later, a loud thud and ripping sound was heard along with the sickening sound of bones breaking.

The first mate's last thought after the right side of his head slammed into a sharp rock, causing his vision to blur and tiny black spots to appear, was of his island family, his love for them, and his last goodbye.

His vision went dark and Gilligan left the world of reality behind probably for the last time as he succumbed to unconsciousness.


A/N: Don't kill me, please! Like I said in the above author's note, Gilligan is not dead, it's just seems like he is. In Gilligan's mind, he thinks this is his last time on Earth, and that he will wake up in Heaven. However, we all know that he will still be on the island when he wakes up. Please review and let me know what you think of the story or what I can do to improve/fix it and any errors. Oh, before I forget, please give me suggestions in a review or pm on what Gilligan would be interested in learning from the Professor should he survive his injuries and escape from his rocky prison.

If you have a craving for more Gilligan's Island stories, please check out my new Gilligan's Island community where I housed twenty-three stories of Gilligan being the star of the show.