Moments after Chef left the tent, Gwen started to move a bit in her cot. Trent sat up in his bed, the clutched his middle and grunted in pain.

"Dude, take it easy." Warned Geoff, "You may be awake, but your still pretty messed up."

Trent gently shook his head and got up out of his cot anyway. He slowly made his way over to where Gwen was laying. Although only a few steps, it seemed like a mile hike in Trent's condition. Leshawna got Trent a chair to sit in. She got it to him in the nick of time when suddenly, Trent collapsed into the chair in pain. He breathed deeply and looked at Gwen. He gathered all his strength to sit up so he could get closer to her.

"Gwen…" he said in a tired voice, "Gwen, talk to me… Please talk to me…."

Gwen whimpered under the oxygen mask, squinting up her face before easing it up again. She slowly opened one eye, then the other. She looked up at the ceiling of the tent her eyes flying widely around. She turned her head in Trent's direction. The sight of him calmed her down a bit, but her eyes still showed fear.

"Where… where am I? How… did I-I get here?" she asked tenderly.

Bridgette walked up to Trent and said, "It looks like you two need some time alone. We'll be outside if you need us."

Trent nodded at Bridgette, and then looked back at Gwen as the other three went outside.

"Gwen," he said, "I'm so glad you okay."

Gwen did not reply, but instead continued to give Trent a confused look, like a small child who was lost in the mall. Her eyes seemed bigger and more innocent than before, and she looked at Trent with fascination.

Finally, she spoke, "I… don't understand."

"I found you buried underground." Explained Trent, "I rescued you from suffocating on Boney Island. I used an abandoned canoe to get us back here and when we got back to this island, some of the others helped us get to the first aid tent…" Trent sighed, "But none of that matters anymore, all that matters is that you're safe." Trent smiled at her.

Gwen struggled to sit up a little, then took a good look around. Then she looked back at Trent and said, "I'm a little confused." She said sincerely. "Who are these others? What's going on?"

Then it occurred to Trent. Her oxygen supply was severely impaired. She's obviously not going to be able to walk away from this unscathed in one night. He put his hand to her forehead. Her skin was cool, like the way cold steel feels after it hasn't been touched for a long time. The warm sensation on her forehead made Gwen smile under the oxygen mask.

"Listen, Gwen." He said, "I understand that you're a little confused. After all, that much lack of oxygen, along with emotional stress, might have caused things in your brain to happen."

"Oh." Gwen simply said sadly. She seemed to somewhat understand the situation. "Can you fix it, Trent?"

Trent smiled, happy that she didn't have extreme memory loss or amnesia. Gwen was like a little child again. She was a lot more soft-spoken than before, and without a doubt, more scared. More than likely, she had a few gaps in her memory, but nothing seemed to be too major. "I'm not a doctor Gwen, but I doubt it's anything permanent. Just relax and get some sleep. You should be fine in the morning."

Suddenly, the sounds of a struggle could be heard outside. Concerned, Trent stood up, wavering under the pain, but not so much as to make him fall back again.

"Gwen, stay here." He ordered as if she could actually go anywhere, "I'll be right back."

"But…" she started, but she was so tired, she couldn't continue the thought.

Trent looked back at her. "I'll be fine. You just stay." He smiled, which in turn caused Gwen to smile back. She lay her head back down and Trent continued toward the door.

The sight Trent faced was almost too much for words.

There was a definite struggle. Dust still hung in the air, and footprints embedded deep into the damp soil littered the area. Bushed laid mangled with leaves and twigs scattered everywhere. Blood was splattered all over the ground, which caused Trent's heart to skip yet another beat. But what scared him more was that Geoff's hat and Bridgette's flip flops were on the ground, and neither of them was in sight.

What happened here?

He heard a whimper. It sounded like Leshawna's voice. He looked over and saw her. Her night gown was torn and blood stained. Her hair was a mess with twigs and leaves sticking out off it. Her body was bruised and cut from the apparent fight.

Scared, Trent ran over, to shocked by the display to notice the pain in his body. He knelt down to Leshawna, who lay there, bloody and shaking with her head beaded with droplets of sweat.

"Leshawna, talk to me! Who did this?"

Leshawna opened her tightly closed eyes and looked at the teenage boy. She coughed and managed to say, "Two people… About our age… one girl… one boy… couldn't see their faces, but they gave us one heck of a fight…"

"What happened to Geoff? And Bridgette? Where are they?"

"I… I don't know. They… took them. I don't know where."

"Trent!!!" said a voice behind him. Trent looked over his should and, to his relief, DJ was running toward him.

"DJ! Help!" he cried.

DJ soon arrived and said, "I heard a fight out here. Wanted to know what was going on. What happened?"

"I don't know that details, but it isn't good. Help get Leshawna to the tent and I'll fill you in on what I know."

When Leshawna was safely inside the first aid tent, Trent filled DJ in on the information.

"Really?" said DJ in a scared voice when Trent was done with his story.

"Yeah, this is really bad." Said Trent solemnly, "And apparently, this organization's next victims are Bridgette and Geoff."

"Well, what are we gonna do?" asked DJ.

"I… I don't know." Said Trent, gently stroking Gwen's hair as she slept. "These guys mean business. Just look at what they did to Leshawna!" Trent gestured to Leshawna, who lay in the cot directly behind where DJ was sitting. "I'm in no condition to fight, as much as I wish I could help."

DJ laid his hand on his shoulder. He spoke in a deep, solemn voice, "No one's asking you to fight, Trent. You've seen enough."

"I just wish I could do something. We're all gonna die if we don't get some help."

"You're right, Trent. You're right."

And Trent was right…

Unfortunently.