A girl holding a rifle to her chest. The angry eyes of the other, blonde girl were threatening, and the single black eye of the rifle was paralyzing. Three or four people came out of the jungle, carrying bows and arrows, and a tall, equally angry boy also held a rifle. The dark-haired girl noticed they were all wearing army-green uniforms, like the one she herself was wearing, and she feared that the assailants would think it was her who had killed Fitzgerald.

"Be quiet!" the blonde harshly commanded when the brunette tried to talk. The dark-haired girl immediately held her tongue, surprised that this girl, who looked five or six years younger than herself, would have such authority. The tall boy, who looked just as young, cuffed her hands.

"Ouch!" the brunette girl complained, for the cuffs were too tight. The boy only looked at her, ire in his blue eyes, and spun her around, urging her to move with a push. He picked up the bag she had made with her shirt and led the way.

The girl was extremely confused. Where had these people come from? How long had they been watching her? Where were they taking her? She understood them being angry, for they must've believed she had murdered one of their own; but she didn't understand why, if they were U.S. Army, most of them carried handmade-looking bows, or why their apparent leader was a teenager.

The sun had started to go down when the small group reached a plateau where the Army had settled. She really wasn't alone! Her family could be there! The angry boy guided her towards what looked like the command tent, in the middle of a group of ten. Outside of it, a man in civilian clothes was talking to a woman whose uniform was incomplete. This struck the girl as out of place, for she thought the military had to be in uniform at all times. The woman nodded her head towards the approaching group, making the man turn around to face them.

The girl almost stopped in her tracks when she saw him. He was handsome, strikingly handsome. His bone structure, his dark eyes, the shadow of a beard, everything about him was so incredibly attractive that the girl had to remind herself that, for the moment, she was a prisoner. The man looked annoyed; not angry like her captors, just irritated. The girl forced herself to not be distracted by the man's good looks, and instead be strong, convince him that she had not killed anyone and was only looking for her family.

"We found her in the jungle," the angry boy informed him. The man almost rolled his eyes at him, and the girl wondered just who she was dealing with.

"And who are you?" the man asked her, rather harshly, lifting his eyebrows and looking almost bored.

"Who are you?" the girl retorted after a second, standing taller and looking him straight in the eyes. The man chuckled, putting his hands on his hips, almost patronizingly. This infuriated her. "Did I say something funny?" she demanded, and the blonde girl grunted behind her, holding the rifle tighter. The man met her eyes again, still smiling, a swooning smile, but offered no answer.

"I'm Richard," was all he said.

"I'm Aqua," the girl replied.

"Aqua Fitzgerald, I presume," Richard stated, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head. His smile suggested that he knew that wasn't her last name. Aqua couldn't confirm Richard's statement because Fitzgerald was one of his own, and she would get accused of his murder. If she denied it, she would still get accused, but she would've been honest, at the very least.

"Lindstrom," she surrendered, with a sigh. "But I didn't kill Fitzgerald!" she quickly added. "He was already dead when I found him. Had been for several weeks, I'd say." Richard stayed silent and just looked at her, analyzing her words. Aqua held his gaze until it became unbearable and averted her eyes, blushing.

"Ellie, put the gun down," Richard ordered, his eyes still on Aqua's face.

"What?" the blonde girl, Ellie, was incredulous.

"You heard me," he turned his face to her. "Put. It. Down." His voice was so authoritative that Aqua couldn't help but blush again. Ellie reluctantly complied, and the others followed, not wanting to disobey Richard.

He took Aqua by the left arm and walked her inside the tent. She knew he was different because when she complained about his grip being too tight, he loosened it; instead of pushing her, he gestured at a chair by a little table, inviting her, rather than forcing her, to take a seat.

"I'm sorry they treated you so harshly," Richard apologized, removing the cuffs from Aqua's wrists. She didn't say anything, still a little wary of him, but she dramatically rubbed her wrists, silently agreeing that she had indeed been severely treated. "So, Aqua Lindstrom, tell me your story," Richard sat at the other end of the table, with an expectant look on his face. Aqua took her time to put her ideas in order, feeling Richard's brown eyes on her, which made her whole face feel hot.

She told him every detail of her story. How she had been on a cruising yacht with her parents and three sisters for almost two weeks before a storm sent them all to the water. How they had managed to get themselves in a life raft, where they floated away for three days until another storm sank them. Aqua told Richard that she had woken up in the island just four days before, and she had been tirelessly looking for her family since. How she had found Fitzgerald's decomposing body and stolen his clothes. When she was finished there was a pause while Richard processed everything he had just heard.

"How do you know they're on the island?" he broke the silence, finally.

"I don't," Aqua sadly confessed. "But I do know I saw someone on the beach when I first opened my eyes. And…" she hesitated, "I was hoping maybe you knew something about them." Her optimism dimmed as Richard frowned.

"I don't, I'm sorry," he sounded sincere. "The only visitors we've had don't sound like your family." Aqua lowered her eyes, sad at the bad news.

"Would you help me find them?" she asked after a minute or two of silence. "I know they're on the island, they must be," Richard looked at her with sympathy. "Please," Aqua said in a soft voice, her eyes glassy, letting down her 'tough' façade. Richard felt for her, and he knew that this girl was not dangerous and her intentions were honest.

"Wait here," he spoke after thinking over her request. He left the tent, and Aqua was left alone to wipe away her tears.

"Talk to Jacob? Why?" Ellie's raised voice traveled to Aqua's ears from outside, "Why are you going to help her?" Aqua perked up at this, hoping that Richard had agreed to help her, but she didn't hear Richard's answer or another peep from Ellie. About fifteen minutes later someone brought her a tray with food and a pitcher full of fresh water, which she finished in an instant. After that, she was left alone for what seemed like hours until Richard came back. She stood up, eager to hear his response to her petition.

"Alright, I will help you," he said, and when Aqua produced an excited squeak and started jumping up and down, he raised a hand to stop her. She did right away. "But only along the perimeter of the island. If we don't find your family on the beach, then I'm sorry, but there's not much else I can do for you." Aqua contemplated this. There was a big chance her family might've ventured into the jungle, like she had, in search of food and water; but this was the best chance she had at finding them, and she was not throwing away her shot.

"Yes! Yes, that's fine, thank you," she sputtered. "Thank you," Aqua said, her whole heart poured into the words. Richard looked at the young woman standing in front of him, lost and alone, and he was glad to had made her happy.

"Yes, well," he cleared his throat, breaking the spell that had engulfed them both, "we'll leave first thing in the morning. You can sleep there," he pointed at the very back of the tent, which was actually a secluded room. "Rest well, you'll need it," and with that, he left.

Aqua settled in the little cot, crying tears of happiness. With the Army's help, she had a real chance at finding her family! She would see them soon, she was sure. With this happy feeling in her heart, she laid her head on the pillow, and submerged in a much-needed, uninterrupted sleep.