Chapter VII

Quanah

Buck felt someone nudging him in the ribs. As he slowly fought through the cobwebs of nightmares and dreams, it turned into a poke, and then a kick. "Alright," he mumbled, "I'm up Sergeant. Thanks for waking me. So, who are we going to let through the Gates of Hell today?"

"What?" Rocky asked incredulously, "What did you say about the gates of hell?"

Buck opened one eye and started at Rocky with it for about a minute. Groggily, he pointed an unsteady finger at Rocky and mumbled, "I know you…"

"Yeah, that's right." Rocky kicked him in the leg, saying, "Oh, and by the way, if you haven't guessed yet, genius, we've arrived in Quanah."

"And what time is it now?"

"About three hours after we left," Rocky snapped, "Now grab your bag and hurry up!"

"And who stepped on your toes today?" Buck muttered as he pried his bag out from between two of the grain sacks.

"Those Vietnamese scumbags!" Rocky spat. He looked Buck in the eye as he growled, "I used to thing you were a mad fiend who got his laughs by killing people, hiding behind the excuse that his victims would have been murderers if he had done otherwise. I thought you were the worst kind of man there is." Rocky paused, and looked sad for a moment, then straitened. "I found out the hard way that you were just the second worst. Those men really are murderers and whether you believe in God or not, you dealt his justice to them that day. I heard you predict what would happen in that courtroom and I saw your prediction unfold before my own two eyes." His face hardened as he looked away. "I don't know what you plan on doing, but as for me, I intend to rescue whoever remains. If no one remains alive, I'm going to retrieve their bodies…" Rocky's face softened as he said this last part, but his eyes still retained their firm determination.

Now, finally, this one's a man. Buck thought to himself, slightly surprised at Rocky's reaction. Now let's just hope you become a better man than I, or at least stay a man for a while… "Rocky, I'm proud to see that you, of all these men have the guts to go back there." Rocky seemed to grow a few inches, while still trying to pretend he was disgusted by the whole matter. "But," Buck continued, "You'd be crazy if you just rushed in there the first chance you got." He slung the pack over his shoulders as he watched Rocky's reaction.

Instead of instantly challenging his judgment, surprisingly, Rocky only sighed and slumped slightly. "Yeah…" he muttered, "I guess for such a large undertaking, I'm going to need a large amount of preparation…yes, all I have to do is come up with some kind of plan…and maybe a boat…"

What's with this guy? Buck wondered as he smiled and shook his head. First, he's ready to lynch me, then the next minute, he's following my advice and actually agreeing with me… I mean, when your one and only home is destroyed along with all the friends and family you've ever known, you start thinking differently but… Buck looked at Rocky closely, up and down. Rocky seemed to be patiently and anxiously awaiting Buck's next words. Oh, I get it, he wants a hero, and I'm the closest thing to a super hero he's seen. And now that he knows I'm fighting for the truth, justice, and the American way, not just for fun, he's ready to accept me. Now he wants his hero's approval before he marches off to war. "Either that," he muttered to himself in an afterthought, "or I'm just the only hope he's got."

"So, what do you think?" Rocky asked, trying to act tougher than Buck knew he was. "I mean, do you think, in your professional opinion. You know, what would you do in my shoes?"

"Just don't do anything," Buck said shortly, but not sweetly. Rocky's eyebrows furrowed and he opened his mouth to speak, but Buck continued, "I would come with you, if for no other reason than it's my job. Still, the truth is that we don't have any weapons or even anyway to get there or any safe way to get there. I don't know about you, but I don't very much like the idea of swimming all the way there, probably with people shooting at us all the way."

Rocky sighed. "I suppose you're right, but I don't want to just sit on my thumbs while some murdering Outlanders desecrate my home.

"Who said you would?" Buck smiled, "I have an idea."

Rocky's expression instantly went from dark and depressed to bright and excited. "Well? What's your idea?"

Buck pulled a crumpled envelope from his pocket and started smoothing it out. "Patrick told me that he'd be out shopping for supplies to try and build his tower for the umpteenth time, but something tells me he's going to have to settle down to work some odd job until the Vietnamese leave. Actually, I think he more or less told me that he'd be doing just that. So, I guess that means," Buck said, handing Rocky the envelope, "We still have to deliver this to the Icikoreans."

Rocky looked at it. An address was displayed prominently across the center of the envelope, and in the upper right corner, there was a small note. It read, "Hi, Drew, from Patrick." Rocky's face registered realization as he said the obvious, "It's Patrick's letter!

No kidding? Buck rolled his eyes. "Yes, it is, so now, we have an excuse to go and visit the Icikoreans. Using this letter, we can probably get around a few roadblocks." Buck put an arm around Rocky's shoulders as he continued. "Now, if these Icikoreans have a professional weatherman and a real, honest to goodness meteorologist, they'll probably be advanced enough to have some good, old fashioned fire arms, or something I can make into a make-shift fire arm…"

"I don't know…" Rocky murmured, scratching his chin as Buck led him towards the gangplank. "I don't think you'll be able to get much help if you ask another nation's leaders. People like to call them provinces, but other than allowing free trade and all coming together for the Council of Elders every year, each is an entirely different country. Especially Icikor."

Buck frowned and shook his head as he sighed. He looked Rocky in the eye as he asked, "Do you think anyone here will help us? If you hadn't seen that kind of destruction would you have believed it possible? And if you were a run of the mill Aquinian, would you help two kids you'd never met before who asked you if you'd help them something like that from happening to the rest of the island?"

"Well, I suppose not…" Rocky began. Then he froze, standing stock still as his eyes widened and stared at Buck. "Wait a minute…they would do that again?"

"…and again, and again, and again." Buck sighed, shaking his head before looking at Quanah's sleepy buildings. "…at least, until you run out of cities…" Buck frowned as he continued. "I wonder if they'll bring back slavery if and when they find out they've found an island full of Christians…" Buck looked back at Rocky with a raised eyebrow. "I'm assuming that this is the Christian Isle, right?"

"Yes," Rocky sighed as he massaged the bridge of his nose. "This island's full of the Christians that were outlawed from the Federal States of America. Oh, and the Messianic and a few Amish...but we don't usually count them…"

"Well, to the Vietnamese, they'll count well enough." Buck half led, half followed Rocky towards the ramp. "…not only that, they'll probably create another slave stated, and everyone knows that a country they destroy is better off the the countries they've enslaved. ...Well…." Buck shrugged. "…at least, that's my opinion. I don't know about you. Perhaps death is worse than slavery, but Soldiers are around and cause death so much that they have to hold some other sin as the worst, so we can retain our sanity…" Buck glanced around at Rocky, who was simply slumping with a miserable expression spread across what Buck could see of his face. "…But, that's alright," Buck added hastily, "I mean how long could it take us to get to Icikor?"

"If we push it, and get through the emigration process quickly enough," Rocky said, brightening up a little bit as he walked along, "We could probably make it in a day…"

"Well, then we should be done they can do anything! We'll have gotten these reinforcements and armaments by this time tomorrow!"

"You mean, the day after tomorrow? I mean, since it's too dark to travel at this hour, we'll stay the night somewhere, then we can set out, which will take us one day to reach Icikor, then we have to return, so the earliest time we could be back is the day after…"

"Rocky," Buck sighed and shook his head, as his face broke into a smile. "It's just an expression. Besides, it's already tomorrow, so it'll only take us today to get there, and then we'll be back here tomorrow…"

"At this same time?" Rocky grinned as he raised an eyebrow in a mock imitation of Buck. "Anyway, even if we do get through emigration and to Icikor soon enough, I don't think we'll be able to get through the red tape that quickly." Rocky scratched his chin. "Now that I think of it, we'll probably not get beyond the Borderzone without some help… So far you're the only one who has an excuse to travel beyond province borders, while I'm stuck here. I have the greatest possible confidence in your abilities, but even I don't think that you'd be able to get through all of the obstacles of native politics without losing your temper and…how did you say it… 'blowing someone away' or something of the sort?"

Buck paused for a few moments as he considered this. Then he sighed. "You're telling me we need another?"

"Well, getting more people to join in our…quest…is the whole idea in the first place…"

"Well, yeah but…" Buck started. Suddenly, he got an idea, and his face brightened as a smile appeared. "…Say, we need someone with more than a little knowledge of this island, who has a positive personality, and who is pretty diplomatic by nature… and most importantly, someone who likes to argue a lot… and someone who just happens to be a girl you know very well…" Buck watched Rocky closely, waiting for a reaction. None came. Buck gave Rocky a sour smile and raised an eyebrow as he thought, Man, you must really be slow, aren't you? "…And someone who just happens to be your sister!"

Even though Buck gave him every single clue possible, it took Rocky a few seconds to realize who Buck meant. "Sanya? You mean Sanya?" Rocky asked incredulously. "You can't possibly mean you want to take her along?

Buck shrugged. "Why not? Do you have anyone better in mind? It's not like we have many options, and anyway, it's not like we're asking her to do anything dangerous. She only needs to take us past a few border guards. You should be able to handle the rest after that. And if it comes to fighting…well…I guess I can take care of that…"

"Well…That might work….If somehow Sanya agreed to help us kill off the invading Outlanders…"

"Well…we don't have to tell her we're going to kill them… In fact, we don't have to tell her anything about going back to the island at all. We could tell her we're…gathering signatures for a petition against the Vietnamese or something."

"I don't like the idea of lying to her…" Rocky whined.

"Hey, we don't have to lie…" Buck shrugged. "We could get some people to sign my stationary. After all, you said it had about a thousand pages to it. Then we would be telling the truth."

"Actually, it was closer to one thousand, five hundred…" Rocky muttered.

"…at the same time, we could get some more people on our side, and try to get bigger and better weapons than just our fists and these knives. Actually, if we were able to get any weapons at all, that would surprise me. …and I don't think we'll be able to talk anyone into going, if everyone's about as stubborn as you guys…"

"Yes, I suppose you're right about keeping our true goals secret. It wouldn't be entirely unethical… but it might not be as hard as you think. The Aquinains have become isolationists for the most part, mainly because of the…lack of…pacifists in the other provinces in the other provinces… So we've all but closed our borders to immigration. True, after word gets out that the Aquinian capital was utterly and completely obliterated, a few factions might be uncaring, or even overjoyed, but I'm sure that whoever's in power will be wise enough to see that a threat to Aquinas is a threat upon the entire island."

As they meandered down the ramp, Buck shrugged and said, "Well, you just keep hoping and praying, and I'll do all the fighting. And, if we can convince her, we can just sit back and watch Sanya as she does all the fast talking…" Buck looked him in the eye as he added, "…well…as long as you're careful not to say that part when you talk with her…"

Rocky looked at Buck with a surprised, yet angry look on his face. "I thought you were going to be the one to tell her…"

"Why me?" Buck asked.

"Because she's the one you suggested."

"I may have 'suggested' her, but she's your sister!"

"She may be my sister, but she likes you better!"

"Who do I like better?" Sanya asked, in a cheerful and mischievous voice.

Buck and Rocky looked from their deliberations to see Sanya standing at the foot of the ramp, on her tiptoes, and waving with a broad grin plastered across her face.

"Come on, slowpokes! I found us a ride!" she yelled, cupping a hand to her mouth.

Rocky looked at Buck with a raised eyebrow. "I think I'll believe it when I see it…"

Buck nodded and rolled his eyes, even though he didn't know the reason why. Whatever. Rocky's in a good mood, so I'll just humor him anyway…

"Hurry up!" Sanya urged exitidly as she rushed up to them both and grabbed a hand from each of them. "What are you guys doing? I thought you would want to get as far away from this place as humanly possible, as rapidly as possible."

"We were talking…" Rocky said emotionlessly, as he pulled his hand away. "…about a great many sobering things. What happened to you? I had imagined you'd be crying your eyes out in some dark and secluded alley right about now…"

"I would have," Sanya admitted quietly, "But…I realized that mourning for them in my heart will be worth far more than crying for them in some alleyway…"

Buck smiled knowingly as she said this. "…in other words, you're 'mourning for them' so much, that you couldn't find the tears you're supposed to be crying…"

Sanya seemed to get a lump in her throat as she nodded. Then she straitened suddenly, and tried smiling as cheerfully as before. "Now, hurry up, or we'll miss our ride to the Inland Range."

Rocky sighed, and Buck smiled as he let Sanya lead him off the ram, and of the pier. They weaved through a few crowds, who stood about the waterfront, whispering and watching the eastern horizon. A few of the crewmembers of The Minnow, the ones who obviously had the higher paying positions, were talking to individuals and whole crowds simultaneously. From the various gasps he heard now and then, Buck could guess what the general topic was.

"Hey, Outlander!" Captain Macgregor bellowed across the dock. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Buck watched him hustle over towards them before answering. "The Inland Range, if none of our plans change…"

"…'Our plans'?" The Captain looked between Buck, Sanya and Rocky. "Don't tell me that all three of yah got Exiled?" Sanya opened her mouth to say something, but Captain Macgregor didn't see, apparently, because he continued, "What in the hell did you do?"

"Well, I'm the only one who actually did anything…" Buck said, hastily as Rocky said something to Sanya, distracting her enough to keep her out of the conversation. "…these two were simply accessories to the crime."

"Yah did nah answer my question." Captain Macgregor gave Buck a scrutinizing glare. "I asked yah what it was yah did tah get yahselves exiled."

Is it just me, or does this guy keep changing his accent…? Buck wondered, Ah, well…I suppose that's beside the point… "Oh, nothing really," Buck replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "…just some trifling crime I seemed to have committed. It was rather insignificant really, but it was most assuredly inconvenient. No doubt, curiosity is eating away at you, so I suppose I'll tell you, even though you won't believe it when I tell you…" Buck paused, his silence punctuated by the Captain's foot tapping on the deck. But, instead of answering, Buck looked up and down the waterfront, and leaned in close. Naturally, Captain Macgregor leaned in close as well, in order to catch what had so peaked his interest. After Buck felt he had drawn out the suspense long enough, and after Rocky started tapping his foot, Buck whispered, "I was exiled for slaying twenty –three Vietnamese soldiers who were trying to kill me."

The captain, who seemed as if he was going to tell Buck off should the explanation prove unsatisfactory, immediately swallowed back whatever words he was about to say, and swore softly under his breath, his posture and expression frozen in time. "You…You're a…manslayer?" he stammered. "You…Killed…twenty-three…people?"

"Well, there's a big difference…" Buck thought for a minute. "I'd actually call it self defense, since they were trying to kill me first." Buck looked the captain in his empty eyes as he fearfully stammered on. "So, how long do we have until you start acting against us, or until you enforce the exile, or whatever it is you're supposed to do?"

"Seven days…" the captain managed to say drearily. "Seven days until the Exile posters go up…or at least, seven days after I deliver your poster to the proper officials…"

So that's what that loon had wanted. For a while there, I thought he had been drawing me thought I was cute or something. Still, a teenager like that? Both a courtroom chronicler and an artist/wanted-poster-maker? That's a strange combination…but I guess someone had to do it… "Well, thank you!" Buck said semi-cheerfully as he started walking back down the gangplank. It was also around this time that Rocky conveniently got done talking with Sanya about something.

Sanya looked up suddenly when the Captain turned and started staggering away. "Wait!" she shouted, "Captain! Wait! I need to tell you something!"

"…could have murdered us all in our beds…" Captain Macgregor murmured, massaging his chin wearily.

"Buck," Sanya whined, turning back to him and pouting. "Why did you have to go and do such a thing as that?"

Buck looked over at Rocky, since he had really been the one to keep Sanya from speaking up. Somehow, Rocky was conveniently looking the other way. Fine, I'll deal with Sanya, but you owe me one! "Well…Sanya…" Buck put his hands in his pockets as he thought up a half truth, half lie. "Rocky wants to come with me to this Inland Range, so I'm guessing that, perhaps, if he was thought to be an Exile, he'd be able to emigrate more quickly. You know, blow through all the red tape by pretending he's supposed to be somewhere else…"

"So, why did you have to involve me?" Sanya asked, angrily eyeing Buck through the corner of her eye.

"Well…" he paused, trying to think f the right way of saying what he meant. "…We were hopeful that perhaps you would like to come with us…would you?"

"What reason would there be for me to come along?" she asked, trying to mimic Rocky in the way that he raised an eyebrow and scratched his chin as he said, "Hmm…"

"Well…nothing really…" Buck shrugged. "We just thought that since you…well…you and your family's never been off of the island before, right? That means you don't really have any friends over here…right? Well, then, we thought that it might be nice to stay together, you know…" Buck gestured and looked over at Rocky. "Rocky and I talked, and we thought it would be nice to tour the Island…you know, visit all the countries or provinces or whatever you call them…" Buck turned back to Sanya, and noticed that her eyes were beginning to narrow. "…and if we could get some signatures together…Perhaps we could create a petition to go along with them or something…and we could mail it to the Vietnamese…" Buck turned away, and scratched his neck ostensibly, to hide his grimace from Sanya. Man, he thought, she's never going to believe that. I blew it. I don't think anyone's enough of an idiot to believe that kind of story…

He turned back to Sanya, and was surprised to see her stroking her chin. "You know…that might work…" Sanya said, her voice trailing off thoughtfully. However, after a moment or two of deliberation, she shook her head and continued. "…but regardless, we shall have to have a way to get to the Inland Range. We have to get there first, before we may begin collecting signatures. So saying, Sanya grabbed Buck's hand once more, and started to guide him through the city. Man alive! He thought to himself as he weaved between a few barrels, if that last city was built and colored like the white house, then this must be the white house, when it's surrounded in an ocean of warehouses…and smells… The Capital's buildings seemed to be all colored with white and brown. However, this city, Quanah, seems to have a little color mixed in with the awnings and the occasional brick house…I think they're brick… They're either brick or tile-plated houses…

Suddenly, Buck's train of thought was broken by the sound a familiar voice, or rather, by the sound of a familiar indignant whine. "I'm telling you, they're not friends of mine,' P.J.'s voice came from across the square, "Let's just leave them here, and go to your house. You don't have to pay them any mind, Uncle Zack…"

"You will have time enough to become friends with them, Peter," an unfamiliar voice replied, "…and secondly, please remember that I prefer to be called Mr. Johnson. If you must, then you can refer to me as 'uncle Johnson,' But you may never, under any circumstances, address me by my first name." Mr. Johnson's voice became a small bit softer as he added, "…And third, I want you to know that I do not treat my guests in such a way. Neither should you, for that matter."

"She's not our guest until she comes home with us…" P.J. grumbled.

"You don't quite have it right. She becomes my guest when I offer to take her to my home, not when she reaches my home."

"Well, either way, it's too late to bolt now…" P.J. muttered, as Buck finally spotted him through the crowd. "…here they are…"

Sanya broke through the last ring of people, and Buck got his first good look at Mr. Johnson. Dark hair…common brown eyes…common height…about 6 foot…one to two inches…late 30's in age, perhaps early 40's…blue dyed robe with yellow/gold trim… Well, if I lose sight of him, at least the robe will let me find him again. I doubt any of the locals usually go about in such colorful clothes…

"Well, it seems as though our mysterious messenger has finally returned, along with the companions she described. …One Rocky, and a Buck, if I'm not mistaken…and very seldom am I.

"A pleasure, sir," Rocky said with a bold smile, which lost some of its cheer the moment Rocky touched Mr. Johnson's hand.

Wonder what all that was about…? Buck wondered as he offered his hand to Mr. Johnson. The hand itself wasn't bad, or gnarly, but when Buck touched him, he felt as though he were holding the hands of a dead man. Ha, he literally feels like death warmed over… The chuckle stuck in Buck's throat as he met Mr. Johnson's eyes. Those eyes…I've seen them before. Those are the eyes of a man who would defy all authority but his own. He might not be yet willing to do it openly, but I'm guessing this guy is really a mobster of some sort or another… Didn't Captain Macgregor say something..? …Something about how this guy owned the contracts to all of the shops and bazaars in this town? That in itself can't be such a small feat, even in such a town as this. If he hasn't already, I'm betting he's going to use that to his advantage to begin other takeovers. Legally, or not… All of these thoughts had come and gone by the time he was done shaking Mr. Johnson's hand.

"Apparently, you share none of your friend's apprehension," Mr. Johnson told Buck as he smiled and withdrew his hand. "…but, I suppose that should not have been a difficult thing for an Outlander."

Buck shrugged. "There's not much that's too difficult for me."

The ends of Mr. Johnson's thin smile twitched upwards for a moment or two, then resumed its polite, but stoic appearance. "No doubt," Mr. Johnson stepped to one side, and gestured towards a cart and horse. "You all, no doubt, are very tired form the journey, not to mention all the excitement you've experienced or the fact that it's almost four in the morning."

"Thank you, kind sir," Sanya said, giving the Aquinian equivalent of a curtsey.

"Yes, thank you," Rocky echoed, bowing stiffly and slightly, keeping his worried eyes either upon Sanya or Mr. Johnson. It was mostly the latter, and with worried eyes.

"Yeah, thanks Mr. Johnson. You're a life saver…" Buck said, tilting his head slightly, and his torso even less.

"Oh, you needn't go that far…" Mr. Johnson said, smiling and waving off Buck's comment, and bowing his head in acknowledgement of Sanya and Rocky's polite gestures. However, his emotions remained unreadable. "Then, shall we retire for the evening…or rather, for the morning?"

P.J. grumbled something under his breath as they walked over to the wagon. Mr. Johnson swung aboard the driver's seat, where he gave P.J. a harsh and reprimanding glare. Buck, Sanya, and Rocky climbed into the back. Rocky was kind enough to help P.J. up and over the back tailgate. As soon as the boy was aboard, however, he scrambled over the buckboard and into the seat beside Mr. Johnson.

As they started to move, and quickly gain speed, Rocky, Sanya and Buck sat down. As soon as he had taken off his knapsack, and placed it between his legs, he joined Rocky in looking at Sanya with narrowed eyes.

Sanya looked from Buck to Rocky, and back again. "About what are you so concerned?" Sanya asked, smiling innocently as usual.

"And who is this Mr. Johnson?" Rocky asked, crossing his arms, even as his eyebrow stood erect. "Did you just now meet him on the street or something?"

"Oh, no," Sanya laughed, dismissing Rocky's seriousness with a wave of the hand. "Mr. Johnson is P.J.'s uncle. When P.J. came off of the dock, I followed him. P.J. went to that one shop where Mr. Johnson works, and after P.J. found him, they started talking to each other in hushed voices. I failed to get close enough to them in order to figure out what they were discussing, but I suppose it would be impolite of me…especially since we had never met… Anyway, even after seeing P.J. in such a state, Mr. Johnson, who probably noticed me even then, was never phased by this. I just waited, and listened, as they conversed, and started to realize that Mr. Johnson had been so NOT-surprised at P.J.'s arrival, that I thought that he might have known something about the attack which we didn't. So, I just went up to them, to ask Mr. Johnson if he had heard something. When I had gotten within a few feet, Mr. Johnson asked me who I was, and what I wanted. I answered truthfully, telling him that I was called Sanya, and that I was a school-mate, and even classmate of P.J., which also failed to surprise him. However, when I told him that I had a friend who needed to get out of Aquinis, then he looked interested." Sanya scratched her head and frowned. "I think he said something about being happy t do business, and he even started smiling at that point in the conversation. When I told him how Buck had been exiled because he had killed twenty-three Outlander soldiers, shortly before the obliteration of the capital, he seemed to get even happier. It was strange though, because he kept saying, 'that's too bad...' and then he'd shake his head a few times, even though he was happy. Anyway, he said if we needed a ride, all we had to do was come along with him on one of his supply runs."

Something tells me that my first impression of the guy may have been the right one, Buck thought dryly, gazing off into space. Something tells me that he's not your average, peace-loving Aquinian.

"Alright we're here," Mr. Johnson said cheerfully as the wagon slowed to a stop.

Buck looked up, surprised. Either Sanya's story took longer than I thought, or Mr. Johnson lives pretty close to the shore. I didn't really think that was possible, considering the way every store, warehouse, and dry dock was packed together, as if there was no space to be had. As he looked around, it seemed as if Mr. Johnson lived at the Western edge of town, and that the rest of the town spread Northwest, and Southeast, along the shoreline. I guess it's the former…

"Now, be careful," Mr. Johnson warned, keeping his voice low, "The womenfolk are all asleep, and I would prefer it if you would do your best to make sure they remain so."

Rocky and Sanya nodded, and said, "Yes, sir."

Buck grunted his agreement, and his understanding.

P.J. hopped off the wagon, and waved lazily without even looking back. "Don't worry; I'll be as quiet as a mouse."

"I'll have to talk with that boy in the morning…" Mr. Johnson muttered in a barely audible voice as he watched P.J. walk brazenly up to the front door, open it, and not catch it as it slammed shut. Mr. Johnson then turned his attention to Rocky and Sanya. "You two can enter the guest wing through the side door, to the left of the main doors."

They all nodded, and Rocky and Sanya climbed out of the wagon. Buck swung his pack onto his shoulders and started towards the door, which Mr. Johnson had indicated.

"Buck," Mr. Johnson called, as he put a hand on Buck's shoulder, "Would you help me put away the horse and cart?"

"Sure…" Buck said hesitantly, "I suppose that's the least I can do…probably the best I can do too… I mean, you did let us ride in your wagon, and you're letting us sleep in your house, so it's not like I could refuse…" Still, you could have asked Rocky to do this… Did you want me specifically, or am I just really that unlucky?

Mr. Johnson smiled, and even showed some teeth, which was unusual. Then he turned around, and gave the horse a slap across the rum with the reins. "I'm sure any reasonable man in my position would have done the same." They made a U-turn, and backtracked for a few yards, then turned left, off of the cobblestone and onto a gravel road. Almost no light penetrated the darkness surrounding the stables, but Buck could see two small lanterns hung on either side of the doorposts. The double doors were open, so Mr. Johnson drove right through them. Once inside, he hopped down from the driver's seat, and went to close them. As he closed them, he told Buck, "Pull the spike on the cart tongue…the one holding the leather straps from the harnesses…and lead the horses further back, and to the left. That's where we hang the harnesses…"

Buck did as he was asked, and realized as he did so, that this was the first time, outside of a petting zoo, that he had been this close or even seen a horse. "So...what was it that you don't want Rocky or Sanya to hear?"

Mr. Johnson laughed a harsh, guttural laugh that Buck heard even over the grinding and slamming of the double doors. "You certainly are perceptive…" Mr. Johnson said, shaking his head as he walked over by the cart. "I suppose if you weren't, you wouldn't survive long in your profession."

"And what profession is that?" Buck asked cautiously. He might be fishing…so I can't offer any information…

"You are a professional killer, that much is certain," Mr. Johnson said, his voice suddenly becoming sharp and cold as ice. "But, are you the stuff of a police officer, who is determined to do everything he can to promote the general welfare? Are you a soldier through and through, following duty and honor above all else? Or are you perhaps a mercenary, who will do anything for a price?"

Well…I don't have to tell him anything…or agree to anything…perhaps I'll just tell him a half-truth…like my Granddad used to do… "I believe Mark Twain said it best when he said, "I have my principles, but I find that principles have no real force except when one is well fed."

"Ah, a mercenary." Mr. Johnson showed his teeth in a thin smile once again, and continued, "Good. Now you and your friends can leave this place alive."

Regular ball of sunshine, isn't he? Buck grimaced, The trouble is, I think he means it… What have I gotten myself into?

"I may have a few jobs for you. One in particular actually. After that job, you will be my hand of death. With you at my disposal, I shall strike down my competition, and strike fear into the hearts of my allies and subordinates. Together, we can create a commercial empire, which will help us take over the actual governments after it spans the entire…"

"Not that I don't enjoy your monologue," Buck interrupted, "But you said something about a job? Could you give me any specifics? Like what the pay is like?"

"You are a mercenary all right," Mr. Johnson grinned again. "Part soldier, part businessman." Then the smile disappeared as he paused.

Actually, I would loved to have heard the end of your monologue, emperor Palpitine, but if I'm supposed to be a mercenary, this is the part I'm going to play, and I'm going to have to stay in character.

"Ten acres a year. Prime land."

What? You're trying to pay me with land? Oh, perhaps it's the amount of money it takes to buy ten acres of land…prime land that is…Well, I do hope it's the latter, but anyway you look at it, I've still got to stay in character. "Twenty."

"Fifteen."

"Done." Remember, around these kinds of guys, a greedy man is a dead man.

"And one hundred and fifty when you're done." Mr. Johnson flashed his smile again, as he continued, "So hurry up and finish this job, and there may be an equally profitable job waiting for you when you get back."

"Any other specifics?" Buck asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. "Like…oh, I don't know…like what the hell I'm supposed to be doing that's worth one hundred and fifty acres worth of prime land!"

"Later." Mr. Johnson gestured towards a side door, as if to tell Buck he was dismissed.

Buck shrugged and nodded, and then exited through the side door. Damned strange, if you ask me… Buck thought t himself as he walked along the gravel road back to the house. Still, this just might be the kind of thing I need in order to destroy an entire Vietnamese Super Destroyer… Buck stopped and looked over his shoulder as Mr. Johnson as he locked the door behind them. Buck allowed him to catch up and pass him before continuing on, both with his feet, and with his train of thought. I had better watch this guy. I still have no idea what this guy wants me to do. For all I know, he may want me to become an assassin or massacre an entire city for no apparent reason whatsoever. Then again… Buck brooded upon this, on his way through the maze and myriad of rooms in the guest wing. Buck brooded upon this as he suddenly felt all the exhaustion from the day accumulating. He didn't even make it to the bed before he stumbled and fell, and fell asleep on the floor, in the first guestroom he found.

It was pitiful. This isn't a town that resisted us. They probably didn't even resent us. They never knew what had hit them, and we didn't even stop long enough to learn the name of the town we bombarded, or even the name of this island. …We still don't know…. No, all that we knew at the time was that twenty-three of our promising young men died here, and for that, an entire city had to die. What a waste of life… Su-Jin shuffled sadly through the ashes of the city, kicking a stone out of his way every so often. Every time he heard shots, and every time he thought he heard shots, he visibly flinched. He knew full well what was happening. The only reason he was on land at all was because some of the men had complained about not having anything else to shoot. A few men were kind enough to be digging shallow mass graves for the dead, but for the most part, the men were either relaxing or shooting at a crude range someone had erected. It was likely that some would use the bodies of the dead for target practice until someone decided to take them to the mass grave. More still were scribbling graffiti on the jet black cliffs, probably giving the battle more than a dozen names, and writing more 'glorious accounts' of the battle by the second. Su-Jin walked up to a small mound of ashes and kicked it. The ashes flew into the air into a great dust cloud, revealing a small wooden boat. It was wider in the center than a canoe, but just as long, with a point on both sides. A few of the boards had cracked and splintered along with one of the points. Now, I have something in which to drown my tears, he thought, smiling softly. Don't worry, child, I'll make sure you are repaired soon.

Su-Jin looked around the beach, and spotted a few sailors just sleeping on the beach. Actually, he only spotted their boots, sticking out from beneath a large army blanket. "You two," he barked as gruffly as he could, kicking one of the boots, "Organize a work detail, and start mapping the entire east coast of the larger island. Take note of any resources that might be used for the construction of fortifications, especially wood…" Su-Jin waited with his arms crossed for a response. When he didn't get one, he kicked the other pair once and the first pair twice. "Did you two hear me?" he asked, raising his voice.

The two men peeled the blanket away from their faces, revealing tussled hair and sleepy eyes. One wiped the sleep from his eyes while the other said, "Yeah, we heard you." He sighed and stretched. "I was just hoping you weren't addressing us."

Su-Jin frowned at him, trying to look fierce, but not being able to completely succeed. Perhaps he just wants to forget everything that happened… just sleep away this nightmare, and sleep right through it… Su-Jin tipped his head to one side and looked the fellow up and down. His Standard was good, but it didn't have the accent that most Asians did. In fact, now that he looked the fellow over again, he looked more like a cross between an Irishman and a Spaniard, which was rare indeed. Especially in the Vietnamese army. "What's your name?" Su-Jin asked, raising an inquiring eyebrow.

"Dego," the soldier said, brushing the sand from his reddish, orange hair. Once he was done, he squinted up at Su-Jin, with one eye squinting as he finished with, "Dego, Flamron."

"Well, Dego, you can sleep tonight," Su-Jin growled, not even trying to conceal a smile. "Right now, however, we need some wood, so get to it."

"Um, sir," the second soldier said, raising a hand uncertainly. "Why do you want us to find some and get some wood?"

"Because wood is easier to transport by water than stone," Su-Jin said quickly, barely even glancing at the soldier. "However, should you find a rock quarry on this or that island," Su-Jin pointed in the mainland's general direction, "then feel free to mine it and transport it back here all by yourselves." Su-Jin then turned away, gesturing without looking back as he said, "Whichever you do it's your choice."

"So, have you vented all your anger out on these two draftees, or are you going to find some more?"

Su-Jin whirled around in an instant. "Hajime, how long have you been watching?"

"Long enough…" Hajime laughed as Su-Jin's face burst into a worried expression. "Don't worry," he chuckled, "I won't tell a soul that you were nice. You were just giving two bored soldiers something to do, right? And you're going to start building some sort of camp, so the men don't have to live in tents for five months right?"

"Well…something like that…" Su-Jin sighed, and tried to rub the tension from his neck. "Thanks. You know you always see me doing something frowned upon by the captain, and then you enjoy me sweating bullets until you finally promise me that you won't tell on me."

Hajime shrugged. "I guess you're just lucky." Then his warm smile disappeared. "I need you now, anyway, so turning you in would do me no good."

Su-Jin became miserable once more. "What do you need me to do?" he sighed.

"I myself don't really need you to do anything. The captain wants you to build an antenna large enough to reach the Asian mainland, and a powerful enough transmitter. Probably to request new orders."

Su-Jin sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, and probably to request re-enforcements, along with his own private war down here…"

"You can bet your life on it."

Buck opened his eyes slowly. Beyond a large blur in the center of his vision, there was a white ceiling with a pleasing design made up of small colored tiles. To his right, the sun was streaming in through the window, and to his left was the bed. Once his eyes came into focus, he also identified what was no more than five inches from his face. It was a foot. Well, Buck thought, Sanya's a morning person, if I remember correctly. So that means that this foot must belong to Rocky… Buck grabbed the big toe and tugged on it. "C'mon, time to get up!" he mumbled, even though he stayed where he was, sprawled out on the floor. "I'm not sure when they're going to serve breakfast, but I have a feeling that we're going to be late if we don't get a move on…"

"Who's tugging on my foot?" came a muffled and obviously sleepy groan from the bed.

"Buck Goodwin…you know, tall, good-looking kid who was exiled from your island…and if you don't remember me after that, then you've got a memory problem." Then again, I don't suppose Rocky's the sharpest knife in the…he isn't the smartest person in the world when he first wakes up.

There was a slight pause, then a high pitched voice asked, "Who's Buck Goodwin?" This time, the voice was not muffled.

"I am," Buck said, automatically. Then his flashy comeback was forgotten, as he suddenly thought, Wait a minute, Rocky doesn't have a high-pitched voice… Buck's eyes widened and he snapped totally awake just as two wide-opened, green eyes appeared over the edge of the bed. "Who the hell are you?" Buck asked in a squeaky, high-pitched voice of his own. He could not keep a certain level of stress and panic out of his voice as he asked the question.

The green-eyed face looked down at Buck, the eyes just over the edge of the bed. However, he didn't have to look at the rest of the face to guess the expression, not with how wide and scared those eyes were. After a few seconds of silence, it was pulled back suddenly and Buck heard it yell, "Burglar!" very loudly.

"Now, wait just one second…" Buck said, quickly getting to his feet, and edging towards the door. I know I've been invited to stay here, by the owner himself, but I'm going to get the heck out of here if this bird starts throwing stuff.

Rocky came barreling through the door just about at the same time Buck reached it. As Buck had expected, Rocky came in groggily, with his hair in a mess, and minus his pants. He did, however have a loincloth on, thankfully. Buck just watched as Rocky tripped over his outstretched foot, and crashed into the foot of the bed. The green-eyed girl scrambled to get out of Rocky's way, and she barely made it before Rocky fell face down, right where her legs had been. "Ah!" she yelled from her perch at the head of the bed, as she kicked Rocky's head, "Another burglar!"

"Hey!" Rocky objected, his head cleared by the fury of pummels aimed at his cranium. "I am not a burglar!'

"Who's shouting, and for what reason?" Sanya asked as she walked into the room. She was, as opposed to Rocky, not only fully clothed, but also eating breakfast, a plate of food in one hand, and a utensil in the other.

"Hi, Sanya," Buck sighed, shaking his head. "Do you think you could have told me that there was a girl sleeping in this room before I got here?"

"Well…" Sanya shrugged, "I think I was asleep when you were finally done and decided to come here and go to bed. Besides, I had no idea she was here."

"Three Burglars!" the green-eyed girl yelled, but with less volume as her fear began to fade, and her curiosity began to intensify. "What's going on?"

"I'm not burglar silly," Sanya couldn't help but smile and giggle, "and neither are they. Mr. Johnson was just gracious enough to allow us to sleep here last night. He was also generous in his offer to take us to the Inland Range later today." Sanya looked over at Buck and Rocky. "Well…I hope you guys are well enough, and not too sore, to get breakfast."

It was then that Buck noticed the smell of scrambled eggs.

"Eggs…" Rocky half sighed, half moaned in pleasure. He got up and floated dreamily out the door, following his nose towards the heavenly scent.

"Well, Sanya, since you've already had breakfast," Buck said, as he backed up through the doorway, "so you can talk with this…lady…while I go and get some…"

"I'm not letting you get away so easily," the 'Lady' snapped, hopping off the bed and swaggering over to Buck. "For all I know, you could be some psychopathic mass murderer who's currently hiding from the law."

Well, she's half right… Perhaps it was a lucky guess…perhaps not. "Well, maybe I am, and maybe I'm not," Buck shrugged, "but either way, I'm going to go get myself some breakfast." With that, Buck slid behind the door, and followed Rocky's example. However, instead of floating down the halls like Rocky, Buck strode down the hall at a fast canter.

"Hey!" the green-eyed girl shouted after him, "I'm not done with you quite yet!"

Buck ignored her. Who can just stand around talking when they can't hear themselves over their own growling stomach…actually, it's more like stomachs, in my case… Buck turned right from the room, then right down a corridor, then right down another corridor, then left, then right… He had just lost count of the turns when he found himself in a large dining area, with Mr. Johnson, P.J., and Rocky sitting at an enormous table that nearly spanned the entire room.

"Ah, Buck," Mr. Johnson said with an air of mild surprise, "Perhaps you would be so kind to tell me what all that shouting was that I heard just now."

"Daddy!" Buck heard the high-pitched voice yell again, "Where are you?"

"In the dining area, Cassie," Mr. Johnson called back

The green-eyed girl, identified as Cassie, rushed past Buck, towards Mr. Johnson. "Father, who are all these people? Is it true you took them in as guests? You should tell them to leave! Why, that one," she pointed and glared at Buck, while blushing profusely, "even slept in the same room as I." She ostensibly shivered. "There's no telling what he might have done…"

Mr. Johnson glance over at Buck, his eyes momentarily flashing, but he instantly regained his usual calm demeanor as he turned back to Cassie. "I suppose that was a failing on my part. I told them that they could sleep in the guest wing, but I failed to tell them that you occasionally liked to sleep in the various rooms."

"So, I guess that means that, since you really did let them into the house as guests, I have to let them stay…" Cassie mumbled, more than a little embarrassed. "I suppose that means that you're also taking them to the Inland Range with you, on your business trip, isn't that so?"

Mr. Johnson just sighed as he propped his head up with his hand. "Yes, Cassie, but that doesn't mean I'm going to take you too. I've already told you before, you're not old enough."

"…but father, I'm nearly sixteen!"

"Your birthday's not for two more months. I would hardly call that, 'Almost.'"

"Mom does!"

"Her definition of 'almost' differs from mine, obviously. If you want to ride with me, you'll have to abide by my translation of the word. In my dictionary, almost would be by a few hours, or perhaps even minutes." Mr. Johnson then gave her a glance that meant, "This conversation is over."

"So, why are you helping these people?" Cassie asked grumpily, "I mean, the girl's obviously younger than I, even if she's a bit taller…and the boy can't be much older than I … Are you planning upon hiring them?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she gave Mr. Johnson a suspicious glare.

Rocky looked up, his mouth full of a bite of breakfast burrito, when he heard the word, "hiring."

"No," Mr. Johnson said, glancing over at Rocky's reaction, and cutting it short, as he said the word. "I've already done all the hiring I intend to do this year."

Nicely done, Buck smiled to himself, you dodged the question and you didn't tell a lie, and you did it quickly…without breaking a sweat or a smile.

"Fine," Cassie huffed, "I suppose that I can wait for another two months. If I'm lucky, I might live that long!" She turned on her heel, and stomped off through one of the various doors lining the dining room.

Buck winced as Cassie slammed the door behind her. "What does that mean?"

"Oh, nothing," Mr. Johnson sighed, waving off the comment with one hand as he massaged the bridge of his nose with the other. "It just means she's going to either going to get bored to death…or she's going to commit suicide."

Rocky coughed up his burrito back onto his plate. "What?" he cried in a raspy voice, "Shouldn't you be rushing to stop her?"

Mr. Johnson shrugged. "I don't see why. She's overdue, seeing as she's been threatening to do it for the past five years now. Personally, I have no idea when she's going to get around to committing suicide…"

"…oh…" Rocky murmured. He went back to eating the breakfast burrito he had coughed up, much to Buck's distaste, as Mr. Johnson got up.

"I should be ready in a few minutes," Mr. Johnson declared, in a tone more serious than usual. He walked over to the coat rack in the corner as he continued, "You should eat and gather your things. I don't plan on waiting for long." He pulled off a coat and put it on as he headed out one of the doors.

"I just hope we can find our way out of this labyrinth in time…" Buck muttered under his breath. He looked back at the door he had come through, and then walked over to the wall farthest from it. …North…I think… Buck opened the first door he came to, and found a large hallway, leading to what he assumed to the front door. Well, I guess I've found the way out… Now I just have to remember it… He traveled a few yards down to the next door and looked through it. As far as he could see, besides a small table and two wing backed chairs, the entire room was filled with book cases. Even the walls had been converted in order to house more books, and were in the process of being stuffed. I suppose it might be interesting to look through here…but I'm hungry right now, and I don't want to get left behind…" On the third and last door along this wall, Buck found the kitchen. There, a woman was holding a rather large skillet over a wood-burning stove. Actually, it looked more like a brick oven than anything else. The woman had been humming a tune, but she stopped when Buck poked his head in and asked "Excuse me? May I come in?"

"Hmm?" she turned her head to look at Buck. "Oh, you must be that other strange boy…Buck, right? You're just in time for the next batch!" As she said the last few words, she stirred the contents of the pan one last time before heaping and scraping the stir-fried eggs into a bowl. She handed Buck the bowl and smiled as she handed him two chopsticks.

"Thanks…" Buck said, putting forth a forced smile. "It smells delicious!" Yeah, it smells nice, but how am I supposed to eat it? Chopsticks haven't been used in the U.S. since the war began!"

"I'm Mrs. Johnson, in case you were wondering, and hadn't guessed already," she said, extending her hand.

Buck shifted the bowl from his right hand to his left. "Nice to meet you..." Mrs. Johnson just stood there, smiling. What? You want me to eat this in front of you? You do, don't you…got to find a way to distract her… So I don't look like a complete retard… "Erm…so, what do you think about Mr. Johnson's business?"

"Oh, it's not entirely his…" she corrected, her face breaking out of her smile as she began to act more casual. "I run about half of the business, and do most of the accounting…"

"Oh. So, does Mr. Johnson actually do the buying and selling?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" she said while rolling her eyes. "He just loves to ride around the country on bumpy roads, buying and selling merchandise for over fifty shops or so."

"Um, are you being sarcastic?" Buck asked, even though he knew the answer. If I can just keep her talking… "I'm sorry, but I think I might be misunderstanding you…Ma'am…"

"I…I was…" she replied, her voice softening at the word "Ma'am" and with the barest hint of a sigh. "I'm sorry… In a way, Mr. Johnson does buy and sell everything, but only from a manager's position. That is, he writes letters to the staffs of the various shops and bazaars, and they purchase goods at the requested price and in the requested qualities..." Mrs. Johnson paused, and her eyes became vacant. After a few moments, she finally shrugged. "…or at least, that's the way it's supposed to be. I've never actually seen what Mr. Johnson does. This is supposed to be according to supply and demand laws, and help expand the business, shunt the growth of competitors…that sort of thing. However, for some reason, Mr. Johnson's been buying up the beef industry in the Inland Range …that's where he's going, right?... and I've assumed that he's just trying to cut out the middle man by obtaining the properties and herds of the best beef-producing ranches. Well, I suppose that's also his job…finding new markets and diversifying our investments…"

"How does Mr. Johnson go about…erm…'finding new markets'?"

"Well, I'm not sure," Mrs. Johnson admitted, scratching the back of her neck, "but I do know that he gets very grouchy when he doesn't get his way."

Well…That was an interesting conversation…Perhaps It will be worth the time it took…Nah, probably not… "Well, er…I should be going, so do you have a container I can take with me…?"

"Oh, you can just take the bowl. I'll talk to Paul and Harvey."

"Who's Paul Harvey?"

` "They're the guards," Mrs. Johnson replied, matter-of-factly, "…Well…they're more like Mr. Johnson and my personal body guards. Mr. Johnson usually asks Harvey to do things for him, and I ask Paul to help around the house in his spare time. Every once in a while, I'll ask Harvey to do something, and Mr. Johnson gives Paul instructions about this and that…I'm not really sure what…"

"Okay…" Buck replied as he backed up. He became even more nervous when he backed into something big, hairy, and immovable.

Buck looked up into the stubble of the man's beard, as he rumbled, "That's alright, Mrs. Johnson. I heard you." The thing looked down on Buck with eyes somewhere between the size of golf-balls and hand-grenades. "If you wish to travel with Master Johnson, young sir, you had better hurry. He's almost ready to travel at this very moment, and if he has not already left, he will soon."

"Oh, thank you…sir…" Buck said, politely, as he side-stepped three times to the right in order to get out of the man's shadow. Then he turned and sprinted as fast as he dared without spilling his breakfast.

Buck navigated the narrow passages, and burst through the front door. As Paul had said, there was the cart, coming down the gravel road from the stables. Rocky and Sanya were already aboard and Mr. Johnson was driving. Which means they're not going to stop…CRAP! Buck hurried as fast as he could, spilling some of the fried something or other as he once again patted himself for sleeping fully clothed and in his running shoes. He ran so fast and hard, his ribs began to burn, but his efforts had put him within touching distance of the cart. Sanya was holding out a hand, and saying something, but Buck couldn't hear over the sound of his own heavy breathing. Neither Rocky nor Mr. Johnson seemed to pay Buck any mind. Buck leaped, and as his feet found the back step on the cart, the cart jolted. Apparently the gravel road had joined up with the flagstones, but Buck hadn't noticed. Buck flailed around with one hand, as he tossed the bowl towards Sanya.

Sanya juggled the bowl a few times, before gaining possession over it. She had been in the process of lending Buck a helping hand, but couldn't do a thing when Buck needed her most.

Buck would have fallen, but the tailgate was up. Throwing his right foot up and over it, he was able to use it to steady himself, and pull himself into the cart.

Rocky came over and grabbed the stir-fry out of Sanya's hands, which allowed her to help Buck haul himself aboard.

"Why didn't you help him?" Sanya snapped, snatching the bowl from Rocky and giving it back to Buck.

"I was…" Rocky grumbled, "I was just letting you have the honor … plus I'm hungrier than you are… Good thing I've got a dinner coming to me…"

"What are you talking about?" Buck asked hoarsely, after finally catching his breath.

"Sanya made a bet with me that I'd be the last person aboard, and you wouldn't even make it to the cart."

"Sanya!" Buck moaned, "Thanks for the vote of confidence!"

"Look at it this way…" Sanya said hastily, "At least we can be all glad that I was wrong…"

"Yeah…" Buck grumbled, "but I left the knapsack back at the house…"

"You what?" Rocky exclaimed. "Do you know how expensive that was?"

"Never fear, because Sanya is with you!" She laughed ad pulled the knapsack from behind a rainbarrel.

Buck took it from her hands gently, then hastily went through it. "You left everything behind but the stationary!" he groaned.

"Well," Sanya huffed crossly, "You could have just said, 'Thank you Sanya, for bringing my knapsack at all'!"

Buck sighed. "I suppose so…Sanya, how about you be the first to sign it?"

"Really?" Sanya cried, cheering up immediately. "Where do I sign?" she asked, as Buck handed her his pen.

Considering that's the only pen I've got…I'd better keep it safe… "I guess you can just sign the front page…"

"Okay…Here I go…" She bit her bottom lip, as she wrote:

"You didn't have to sign it in the complete center of the page…" Rocky grumbled.

"Well, you can sign wherever you want now!" Sanya muttered. "As for me, I saw no reason to do otherwise."

Rocky just sighed as he signed his name:

"I suppose," Buck sighed, "Since Rocky signed his name to the left of Sanya's…for the sake of symmetry…I'll write my name over here…" So, Buck signed his name to the right of the page:

Buck Goodwin

He did the best he could, considering that he was riding in a bumpy cart all the while. "So, what now?" he asked, as he started to close the book. He stopped, and opened the book again, however, when he spotted a small note running along the binding, almost invisible unless you laid the book out flat. It read, "You people are pretty weird, you know that? Thanks for visiting me! "

So that's why my knapsack moved while I was aboard The Minnow… Patrick must have done this while I was asleep…that Patrick! Buck smiled as he finally closed the book and put it, along with the pen, into the knapsack. He waited, and looked up for someone to say something. When no-one else did, he asked, "Well, what do you guys want to do now?"

"I don't know..." Rocky shrugged.

"I do!" Sanya cried, happily and hastily. Standing up in the cart, she struck a heroic pose, and shouted, "Here we go! Off to the Inland Range!"

Don't you mean, 'Off to Neverland"? Buck wondered to himself.

Then the cart hit a stone, and lurched precariously to one side. Sanya would have fallen over the tailgate, if it wasn't for Buck and Rocky's quick thinking. "Sanya!" they cried in unison, as they pulled her back into the cart

"My apologies!" she laughed, "I just am so very excited!"