Alarmed by the gunshots and severity of the shriek, Scarlett immediately ran back to camp as fast as she was able. But after about ten steps in the loose sand, she could feel her strength waning. She knew that she was way out of shape from the beginning, but if she slowed down, guilt was sure to ensue. She wouldn't want any of her new acquaintances to slow down if she were in trouble. With a growl, she grit her teeth harder as there was a stitch forming in her side and fire in her lungs as she continued running.

"Jonah! HELP!" the voice shouted again, this time even more frantic. Another gunshot went off and Scarlett pushed herself to make it up the small hill that led to the camp. When she had made it, everyone had their eyes honed in on the tree line, opposite of the beach. Jonah had his shotgun drawn. Sam had her pistol and Lara her bow. The only movement that Scarlett caught was that of a man's which she had never laid eyes on. He sported a full head of blond hair, a moustache, thinly-rimmed glasses, a gray vest donned over a blue shirt (which she was sure was a nice buttoned up one), jeans, and sneakers. He made a beeline past Jonah until he tripped over a piece of crumbling cement that was hidden beneath the sand. She had no real weapon to fend off Mathias' lackeys, but she did have a lengthy fishing rod that she could whack someone with. She wrapped both of her hands around the bottom as she would a baseball bat and waited.

And waited.

Surely, some burly scavenger was going to make an appearance, shouting and waving a gun around like a nutcase. Scarlett held her weapon at the ready, but out of the corner of her eye, Lara walked forward towards the newcomer. She was armed not with her bow any longer, but with caution. Her eyes were narrowed and her mouth was tight. Sam lowered her weapon as well. Jonah hesitantly turned his back on the forest and jogged closer to everyone, brows knitted tightly together. Scarlett wondered how he could move so quickly in those sandals. His feet had to be getting covered in sand.

Reyes finally caught up to the circle after having to sprint from the boat and crouched low while aiming her handgun. She must have been in the military or something along those lines. The way she sunk into that position seemed as though this wasn't her first time doing it.

"How many are there?" she asked the stranger in an urgent tone.

"I don't know," he shook his head.

Sam rushed to him and grabbed his left arm to help him up. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I…" His jeans were scuffed at the knees, but other than that, his clothes were unscathed; odd since everyone else's clothing around here was ripped or soiled in some way.

"I couldn't see anyone," Jonah joined Reyes' side. "Think they could be hiding?"

"Maybe," Reyes mumbled, keeping her eyes peeled for any sort of movement in the distance.

The man stood up with Sam's assistance and bent over with his hands on his knees, still trying to catch his breath. "I…I must've scared them off…Feels like I've run for miles."

A voice cut through all of the distress and tension. "And yet, you've barely broken a sweat." It was Lara, who was the only one that was cool, calm, and collected.

The man pursed his lips. "Must be fitter than I thought," he commented with a slight hint of amusement as he straightened the bottom of his vest.

"You could've led them straight to us. Like you did back at the palace."

"What?" Reyes scrunched up her face, her mouth twisting into a scowl.

Scarlett had so many questions. Who was this guy? Why was Lara turning her nose up at him? Everyone seemed to know him, so he wasn't a stranger. Maybe he was part of their crew. Though, they all seemed to have been thrown off their rocker from Lara's harsh allegation. The way everyone's brows came together into looks of shock and anxiety threw up a red flag for Scarlett. She had her inquiries about this new person, but she bet if she simply watched and observed, most of her questions would be answered by the time this conversation was over. She was a keen observer and a fantastic listener. That was why she succeeded in school; it was why Zoey would always come to her if she needed to vent out her feelings to someone. If there were still missing pieces to the puzzle, she would just ask Sam or Jonah later.

The man sighed in frustration, "That's not how it was, Lara, and you know it. They caught me while you were getting Sam."

"What the hell's this about?" Reyes demanded.

It was silent for a moment as all eyes were trained on the man. Scarlett looked back and forth between him and Lara. They both had their hands on their hips like it was some kind of standoff, only the man held a pistol in his hand and didn't look as though he was going to put it away any time soon. Scarlett wondered if she was the only one that found it threatening.

He spoke again, this time sounding earnest, "They said it was the only way they let you and the others live. I…I tried to warn you."

Lara rolled her eyes. "Like hell you did…" She took one step towards him, but Reyes cut her off.

"We don't have time for this!" She bit her lip once before diving into the role as mediator, glancing back and forth between them. "Look, I don't know what the problem is between the two of you and to tell you the truth, I don't really much care."

The man bowed his head. "I was only hoping—"

"Look," Reyes interrupted him, her eyes ablaze as her patience was wearing terribly thin. She craned her face closer toward him with every word after that. "You say another word and I swear to God, I'll start smashing that expensive dentistry of yours!"

Scarlett was sure Reyes was going to punch him or bash his face in with the butt of her pistol if he dared to respond, but Jonah grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.

"Stop, stop, stop," he guided her back a few steps from the man to cool off. "If we turn on each other and start fighting, then we lose."

Reyes stuck out her bottom lip in defeat, accepting that violence wasn't the answer. "You're right," she admitted. "Which is why this is not happening, okay?" She gave Lara and the man a threatening look, like she was the mother settling a feud between two fussy children.

There was an unspoken "fine" amidst them as neither fought nor apologized.

Lara sharply turned her head and walked away from the group to gather her bow and quiver of arrows. "I'm going after Alex. Where were the tools?"

She was what?! Scarlett wasn't the only one whose eyes shown concern. Sam's face was the epitome of anxiety with her wide eyes and parted lips. Her gaze followed Lara as she began to put more distance between them.

"The engine room," Reyes answered. "I'm sure he wouldn't want you to babysit him. He can take care of himself, Lara."

"Good," she gave a curt nod, "then we'll be back soon." She walked away without another word. Everyone that remained glanced at one another before slowly dispersing, but not before giving the blond man a cautious look, including Scarlett. She walked with Sam back to the campfire.

"Who's that?" she nodded towards the man.

Sam's eyes went towards the sky and she let out a weighted sigh. "That's Whitman. He's part of our crew and the 'head' archaeologist," she placed emphasis on "head" by making quotation marks with her fingers. "I haven't seen him since the palace. And when I did, I only got to see him for a few minutes before everything went down last night. I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't let me get a word in. He told me that he surrendered to those whackos and they let him walk around willy-nilly like it was no big friggin' deal! He said he was taking time to 'study' them and to try and gain their trust. Meanwhile, I'm stuck in a room with a guard and my hands tied together waiting to be set on fire!"

"He didn't try to get you out of there?" Scarlett couldn't hide her shock.

"I wanted to ask him if he could, but the guard was there listening, so we had to be discreet. I told him not to leave me. I begged him, but someone had called for him and he left. All he said was that he'd come back."

Scarlett held her breath. "Did he?"

Sam narrowed her eyes and answered in a way that was no doubt she was annoyed. "No. I don't know if he just couldn't get the chance to come back or if he plum forgot about me."

"Maybe he was trying to come up with a plan, but time got away from him if there were so many people watching the entire time."

"I hope that was the reason…" Sam ended on a menacing note.

Not wanting to linger on her captivity, Scarlett diverted the conversation. "Do you think there was anybody chasing after him just now? Or do you think Lara was right?"

Sam shrugged. "Who knows? Lara could be right. I trust her way more than I trust him. He did take more than a few seconds to answer our questions. We'll just have to keep an eye on him, I guess. As much as everyone would like to, we're not gonna kick him out of the group."

Scarlett's brows dipped a little. "Why don't y'all like him?"

"Because he's an arrogant douchebag!" Sam winced at her own outburst and turned around to see if Whitman was within earshot, which thankfully, he wasn't. Instead, he had gone off with Reyes to examine the boat she was repairing. "He thinks he knows everything and throws a hissy fit when he doesn't get his way. Before we shipwrecked here, he was always putting Lara down on her research, belittling her. I've seen the two of them with the books cracked open for hours. Lara would come up with an idea or say something interesting and he would always have to one-up her or point out something miniscule that he thinks is wrong. And that's a shame because she used to really admire his work. She would go on and on about his TV show like she was a love-struck schoolgirl. I wonder how many friends he had growing up because he's no team player. Maybe he's overcompensating for his childhood or something. Everywhere he goes, he has to have the spotlight on him. I have cousins that are under the age of twelve that are more mature than him; and that's saying something."

"He has his own TV show?" Scarlett asked dumbly.

"Yeah, Whitman's World on the Travel channel. It's a show on different cultures. His third season was gonna be cancelled until my uncle saved his ass with the funding he needed to make this expedition happen. I mean, that could also be contributing to him acting like a jackass. He's probably under a lot of stress to make this work. He's got nothing else to fall back on besides his name. He's recently divorced, y'know? Slept with someone around our age…"

Scarlett wanted to put a filter on Sam's mouth. She liked to learn about new people, but this was like going through the man's dirty laundry. Sam may have felt at home rambling on and on, but Scarlett wasn't sure if she wanted to know any more.

"Sam?" she said coyly.

"Yeah?" Sam tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as the wind blew through it furiously.

How did someone tell someone else to shut up nicely?

"You…don't...you don't have to say anymore," she grinned sheepishly.

Sam's face went neutral for a moment before a smile crept across her lips. "I'm talking too much, huh? That's okay, I can shut up. Lara tells me to all the time," she admitted.

Scarlett smiled back at her.


Scarlett sat cross-legged by the campfire while trying to undo the knots in the fishing line. She had been plucking at the string for some time and so far only a few feet of it lain knot-free in front of her. The pole had clearly been out in the weather for a long time because the string was wrapped around the pole, handle, and the reel. She had laid an old, blue towel in her lap so it would be easier for her eyes to see the translucent line. If a snag was too trivial for her, she tightened it up until it became too small for it to be a problem. The project was proving to be a massive headache and her back was killing her. A break would do her good. She let out a sigh and lifted herself up into the desk chair that she had previously sat in and leaned back, closing her eyes. She heard the sound of someone approaching her.

Guessing it was Sam coming back after going through the bunker, she pointed her thumb at the fishing pole. "Wanna take a crack at it?"

"I don't believe I would have the patience for that," a masculine voice answered instead. Scarlett's eyes shot open and she sat up straight in the chair. It was Whitman. "I don't believe we've ever met before. I'm Dr. James Whitman, world renowned archaeologist," he offered his hand to her. Scarlett timidly shook it, mostly grasping his fingers. "And you are…"

"Oh, sorry, I-I'm Scarlett," she stuttered, hating herself for it.

He gave her a pleased smile. "That's a lovely name. Forgive me, but were you on the Endurance with us?"

Scarlett shook her head.

"Then would you mind if I ask how a young lady like yourself ended up on one of the most difficult islands to ever locate?"

"Shipwrecked," she responded plainly. What Sam had said about him was running through her mind: He's an arrogant douchebag. He thinks he knows everything and throws a hissy fit when he doesn't get his way! Not wanting to seem impolite, she added, "I was with some people from school and we were doing some research at sea. One night there was a storm and we ended up here." Hopefully, he found the answer sufficient.

"Curiouser and curiouser. That sounds like what happened to us. Don't tell me you were searching for Yamatai as well," he chuckled.

Scarlett lifted one side of her mouth into an awkward smile. "No, not exactly. We were studying marine life. The morning before the storm, we—I was in a cage underwater photographing sharks." She didn't want to mention Zoey. She didn't even want to think about Zoey. It spawned a deep burning in her stomach and nausea in her throat.

"Really?!" Disbelief was strong in his voice. "That's fascinating! You must have nerves of steel then, eh? Because I don't think I could get that close to one of nature's most evolved predators. And I've done a lot of things in my lifetime."

Scarlett bowed her head to hide her reddened face. "I was actually scared. It was my first time that close to them…and…I didn't know if I could do it again."

"Did you try?" he wondered, seeming to be genuinely concerned.

Scarlett bit her lip. "No…" She remembered the way she had grit her teeth, how hard she had clenched her jaw shut; being so close to danger. She was going to try going back in the cage again the next day, but the chance never came. Instead, she was dumped here on an island. She had still been made a meal out of, though, even if it wasn't by carnivorous, razor-sharp teeth. She had been in danger so many times these past few days, why would she even want to go back to a situation that could prove hazardous? And willingly, at that?

"You think you ever will?" Whitman dared to ask.

"I…I—I don't know," she exhaled. She didn't want to think about it anymore. A lot of soul-searching was going to have to be done when she got home. Could she even go back to school and live a normal life after all of this? Not only school, but would she be able to hold down a job, get married, or have…children? How long would it take for her to heal?

Whitman spoke again, whisking her out of her spiraling thoughts. "How long have you've been on this island?"

Scarlett's mood was plummeting. She was beginning to feel pestered by all of these questions. "Too long."

Whitman offered a small smile in response before moving on. "Where are your other people? Surely, you weren't the only one that made it to the island."

Scarlett physically glared at the ground, attempting to fight back the despairing thoughts. Her people? Her people were shot, taken away. She could still hear Zoey calling her name whilst being dragged against her will. It was like a stab to the heart. And the thought of her being put to a painful death was like twisting the blade.

"Them," she simply stated, her voice filled with poison.

It took him a moment, but by the ominous look on her face, he knew what she meant. "Ah, Solarii," Whitman nodded his head. "They certainly are a motivated people. Mathias…he…he's a piece of work. Someone could write a novel about him. What he's been through, the way his mind works, how he leads his people with an iron fist, it's all so fascinating."

Scarlett scowled. Was he…praising Mathias? What he said and the way he said it was almost, dare she say, admirable; like the man idolized the lunatic. Of course it's incredible, but it's the evil kind of incredible; like the kind of incredible where you couldn't believe it was happening because it's so horrifying. She sat back down in the sand to further work on untangling the fishing string.

"So, I take it you were either never caught or you escaped. How have you been surviving by yourself?"

That was it: the question she didn't want to answer. It was too personal and he was sticking his nose where it didn't belong. Not wanting to be rude, but not wanting to withstand any more of his drilling questions, she gave the vague reply, "Very carefully." It wasn't a lie, but she had a nasty feeling that answer wasn't good enough for him.

"Have you done things you never thought you'd be capable of?" When all Scarlett did was keep working, he began to coax her. "I know most of us have. These types of situations bring out the strong in people. They test the human spirit and endurance. They show us what types of people we truly are and what we're made of."

Scarlett lifted her head in his direction while keeping her gaze down at the fire, her eyes glassy. "I'd rather not talk about it anymore, please." She hoped that was enough to get him to back off. She was glad that she had told Sam to be quiet earlier. It felt easier a second time with Whitman.

"I'll leave you to that then," he nodded to her work and pulled out a leather-bound notebook that had a pen attached to the spine of it. He opened the cover and rifled through a few pages before walking away.

Scarlett pursed her lips, wondering if he felt offended by her request. His tone was pretty neutral. He didn't seem upset. He had upset her, though. He didn't even offer an apology or condolences for her fallen comrades. It felt like he was just prying her for information.

She heard more footsteps approaching and swore she would turn her back to him if it was him again. She'd rather have the sun blinding her than talk to Whitman again. Much to her relief, however, it was Sam and she took her place in the sand, leaning back against a piece of driftwood. In her hands was a book.

"Big book," Scarlett nodded to it.

Sam held it out to show her. The hard cover was nothing extraordinary; just a faded green with a simple textured design of a rectangle. "I'm quite surprised it's still intact. It's Robinson Cruesoe. Ever read it?" she asked happily, obviously ecstatic with her find. Scarlett shook her head. "It's about this man who gets shipwrecked on an island. Sound familiar?"

Scarlett raised her eyebrows with a little smirk playing on her face. "A little too familiar."

"It's the cruelest form of irony I've ever seen," Sam offered a sideways smile. "He does make it off the island, though. Let's hope the same happens for us."

"Yeah…" Scarlett mumbled while pulling the loose end of the string through to undo a knot.


Nearly two grueling hours later, she undid the last snag of the line and raised her fist into the air in victory.

"Yes! Finally!"

Sam jumped about two feet in the air at the sudden outburst, but quickly forgave Scarlett for giving her such a fright. "You done?"

Scarlett beamed as she began tying a knot on the reel. "Yeah, all I have to do is reel this in and we should be good to go!" She began turning the handle to pull the string in and sighed. There was something about the satisfaction of a smooth line. She gave a sideways glance to Sam. "Would you…would you wanna come fishing with me?"

Sam looked up from her book and gave a snort. "Nah, I wouldn't be much help. I've been invited before, but it was usually with a group and the guys would do all the dirty work while the girls just hung out on the boat and tanned in our bikinis. Jonah would probably want to help you, though," she offered. "He grew up near the water. He probably knows a few tricks."

Scarlett got to her feet with a smile. "Sounds like a plan. I'll ask him." She liked Jonah. He seemed easy-going and patient.

Sam gave her a small wave, "Good luck!"

Scarlett hiked over to where Jonah was, sitting on a large boulder with the shotgun in his lap. He was facing the opposite side of the beach as if on guard for any scavengers. When Scarlett came up behind him, he was humming a tune and alternatingly tapping his feet.

"Jonah?" she called out, not wanting to spook him.

He spun around to face her. "What's up?" He noticed the rod and reel in her hand and his face lit up. "Hey! You got it working again!"

"Yeah, I was, um, wondering if you'd…like to go fishing? Sam said you have a lot of experience."

"I'd be happy to! Only…no one would be able to keep watch. Reyes is working on the boat, Lara and Alex are away…"

"What about Whitman?"

Jonah's face soured. "He's under a lot of suspicion right now. Plus, I don't know if he would even take the job seriously. He seems to be in his own world. I don't know if we should trust him with other people's lives."

Scarlett rolled her lips inwardly at her next thought. "What about Sam?"

Jonah gave her a look of pity. "She can shoot a gun, but that's about it. She's not exactly watch guard material."

"She can scream, though," Scarlett shrugged. "I've heard her. If she sees anything, she could just yell. The whole beach would hear her and come running."

"You do have a point," he nodded thoughtfully and pushed himself up from his seat. "Let's go ask her."

They walked back to Sam and offered her the job. At first, she laughed that they would even consider her as a lookout, but once Jonah explained his reservations about Whitman, she understood. She was happy to finally be of some use to the group. She took Jonah's place on the same rock and removed the pistol from the waistband of her pants. She dangled it between her legs as her eyes scanned the tree line. After making sure she was fine with her job, Jonah and Scarlett were finally ready to catch something for dinner.

As they dug in the sand for something to use as bait, Scarlett's head began to swim. She felt drained of energy all of a sudden. Perhaps using all of the muscles to bend over for an extended period of time was taking its toll on her. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes tight, tensing her muscles in an attempt to keep her blood pressure from dropping.

"You alright?" Jonah asked in concern.

"Just feeling dizzy."

"You can rest if you want. You don't have to feel obligated to help. I'll take care of this."

"Are you sure? I'd feel guilty if you did this by yourself. Almost like I got you to do the job for me."

Jonah waved a hand in dismissal. "I promise it's fine. You did the hard part. I don't mind fishing. Feels like I'm back home," he smiled.

"Alright…if you're sure," Scarlett mumbled before instantly letting herself drop to the ground. She laid on her stomach and folded her hands on top of each other in the sand before letting her chin rest on them. This way, she could watch the tide flowing back and forth and also observe Jonah fish.

Jonah eventually found a handful of sand crabs and stored them in a pocket of his cargo shorts before baiting one on the hook. He scanned the shoreline and headed towards a group of ancient shipwrecks. Those were probably good reefs for fish. Scarlett watched him cast the line. Now, all he had to do was wait.

About ten minutes later, Jonah jerked the line back as quick as lightning and reeled in. What came out of the water was a moderate-sized fish, a yellow tail or something; good enough to keep. He pulled the fish onto the beach, pressed his foot against the fish's flank, and ripped the hook from its mouth. He held the fish up by the tail.

"Scarlett! We have pay dirt!" he shouted from across the beach.

Scarlett raised her arm and gave him a thumbs up. She watched him bait the line again and cast. To be honest, her eyelids were getting heavy. The relaxing noise of the water was soothing and the sand enveloped her body like a warm blanket. She could probably take a nap. She would just rest her eyes for a few minutes…


"Scarlett…" Something was pushing her shoulder back and forth. Whatever it was could wait a little longer, she thought and gave a soft moan to get the message across. "Scarlett!" Well, maybe not. She inhaled sharply and her eyes shot open to see Jonah kneeling beside her. He held up five, cleanly gutted fish attached to a stringer. Their lifeless eyes stared back at her.

He smiled, "We got lucky."

She nodded at him, a lazy smile on her face. "That's good. I'm hungry."

"C'mon," he beckoned her to get up, "let's go show everyone."

She pushed herself up from her nestled spot in the sand and followed him back to camp.

When they got back, Whitman was sitting hunched over in a folding lawn chair, scribbling away in that journal of his, completely oblivious to their presence. Jonah set down the fish, fishing rod, and five skewers that were made out of some rebar material on a flat rock.

"Okay, I'll go get Reyes and tell her to take a break from the boat. You can go tell the same to Sam."

They separated and the party gladly reunited around the fire, taking the same seats they had previously sat in. Once eyes were laid upon the fish, everyone's demeanor seemed to brighten. Sam was chatty about how starving she was and gloated about boiling the water so that they would all have something to drink tonight. Only Reyes had the guts to tell her to be quiet.

Jonah began skewering the fish. "Now, we might have to share," he advised. "Lara and Alex should have some for when they get back."

"Did you hear that explosion earlier?" Sam wrung her hands together. "What if it was them?"

Jonah combated her worry with confidence. "They'll make it back."

"But nobody's said anything on the radio in hours. What if something happened?"

"Just chill out, Sam," Reyes told her, accepting a skewer from Jonah. "I'm sure they're just focused on making it back here. There's nothing we can do about it right now."

"We could call them," she suggested and reached for the radio at Reyes' belt.

Reyes instantly moved back. "They could be trying to sneak past those bastards at this very minute. If they wanted to talk to us, they would. Stop being a worry wart."

Sam got to her feet in retaliation. "The nerve! I'm sure you do the same thing to Alisha when she's out with her friends! I know you're not exactly a social butterfly, but she is. I bet you worry sick about her!"

Reyes sighed in defeat. "Sam, just…don't. Not right now," she dropped her head to stare at the fish.

Sam sat back down with a look of guilt clear on her face. "I'm sorry. I'm just worried about them. After Grim and Roth…"

"I know," Reyes said bitterly. "I just don't wanna think about it, about us…if we don't—"

Jonah stepped in before she could finish. "Stop right there. We can't think about the 'if's'. They'll just drive us crazy. We need to focus on one thing at a time and, right now, that's roasting this fish and eating."

The group went quiet after that. Scarlett wondered where Jonah had been all her life. He had such a rational view on things and appeared so calm through all of this madness. He could've been a licensed psychologist and people would have been none the wiser. It made her jealous. Why couldn't she have such a coherent state of mind like him instead of being plagued with constant anxiety?

On another note, she was surprised to learn that Reyes was a mother. She just seemed so…serious. And blunt. There probably wasn't much room for nonsense in her household. Grim and Roth, though. Who were they? Scarlett wanted to ask, but sensed it was a touchy subject. From what Sam said, maybe they died here. And she wouldn't dare ask this group about who their dead friends were. It was better to keep quiet and just keep listening for clues.

"They have been gone for quite some time, though," Whitman spoke up suddenly.

"Maybe they got caught up," Jonah proposed.

"Should we go look for them?" Sam wondered.

"Perhaps you, Reyes, or even Jonah could go—" Whitman was cut off by Reyes.

"No. I have to work on the boat. Besides, I don't think this group should get any smaller. Those bastards could show up at any time and attack. Safety in numbers, that's what I say."

Jonah nodded. "Reyes is right. Lara and Alex are capable of handling themselves. If they needed help, they would radio in."

Sam pouted by drawing her legs to her chest and sticking her bottom lip out. She stared at her fish as she rotated it over the fire. Scarlett pursed her lips. Sure, Lara was more than capable of handling herself. She survived all kinds of hell and back. As for Alex…she wasn't sure about him. But it was just because she had never seen him in action before. He could be a bad-ass for all Scarlett knew. She had only been with this group for a short time and already, she was feeling worry from the absence of their return. She reached for the pot of water in order to distract herself from the uncomfortable feelings and raised it up to her lips, only to get in one mouthful of the precious liquid. Sam took notice like a waitress at a restaurant.

"Oh, are we out? I'll go get us some more," she rested her skewer against the log and got up to take the aluminum pot from Scarlett, but instantly let out a yelp as she put weight on her right ankle.

"You okay?" Scarlett asked with a furrowed brow.

"Yeah…" she lifted her heel out of the sand so that only the front of her boot remained in it and put all of her weight on her left leg. "Just my damn ankle. I'm sick of it hurting."

"Here, let me see it," Whitman offered and Sam hobbled over to him so that he could examine it.

Reyes' gaze was focused on the other side of the beach when, suddenly, her eyes narrowed. She tapped Jonah's shoulder insistently and pointed to a dark figure running towards them. She discreetly retrieved her handgun from its holster in her belt while Jonah slowly reached for his shotgun. Scarlett became alarmed at what they were doing.

"What's wrong?" She looked in the same direction and noticed the figure. She stood up abruptly and backed away.

Before Whitman and Sam could stop what they were doing, the figure revealed itself to be Lara. She had come back! But…where was Alex?

Lara reached the group and handed the wrench and screwdriver to Reyes without a word. Everyone looked behind her for the missing member of the group, but no one asked the daunting question. Lara placed her bow on the ground and Sam limped to her, giving her a silent hug for several seconds.

Whitman was the first to speak. "When we heard the explosion, we thought…"

Lara sat down, not giving relief for everyone's suspicions.

Sam tilted her head in concern. "Alex?" Her voice was nearly a whisper. Everyone's stomachs clenched as they waited for the answer.

Lara shook her head slowly. "He was still on the ship."

A heavy weight had settled itself upon Scarlett's heart. It happened again. Someone that she knew was gone. He wasn't coming back. She'd never see him again. It was probably better that she didn't know him that well anyway. The loss would have hit her harder. The least she could do now was show respect and bow her head along with everyone else. She didn't think it'd be possible, but the camp got even quieter. All that was heard were the ocean waves and the fire crackling. It was like a dark cloud had descended upon the six survivors. Sam handed her fish to Lara. Reyes narrowed her eyes.

"Well, it seems like anyone caught with you has a pretty low survival rate."

"Reyes!" Jonah fussed. "That's uncalled for."

Lara cocked her head and glared. "Better keep your distance, then."

Scarlett raised her eyebrows. She was half expecting someone to say something that crossed the line and a full-on scuffle would break out.

"Stop it," Jonah looked back and forth between them. "Let's just eat, okay? I'm tired of playing referee. We all need to be on the same side. Those bastards went quiet, but that doesn't mean they're gonna stay that way. And if I'm going to die in this place, I'm not gonna do it hungry," he concluded and stuck his fish over the fire, not saying another word. Scarlett almost felt sorry for him at this point. A person only had so much patience. What would happen if Jonah cracked? Would the group break up or would everyone band together to get him back to his reasonable self? Scarlett didn't want to imagine it. They all just needed to be on their best behavior.

No one said anything for a while as they roasted their fish. They watched the meat sizzle and turn from a clear, fleshy color to white with a hint of tan.

Once again, Whitman broke the silence by clearing his throat. He leaned forward in his chair, resting his forearms on his thighs. "Anyone have a good campfire story to tell?" No one responded. He leaned back in defeat, obviously peeved. "Just thought I'd make some conversation."

Lara passed her skewer to Sam and turned to a bag that she had at her side. She pulled out a thick, worn book and a handheld video camera. "I found this with your pack the day before last, Sam," she handed the camcorder to her.

Sam's face immediately lit up. "Oh, my baby!" She took it into her arms, cradling it. She opened the LCD monitor and pressed the power button. "Let's hope you still work!" she said with glee.

"I highly doubt it, Sam," Reyes scoffed. "After all the water damage, it's gotta be—"

"Ha! It works," she cheered as the screen lit up. "And about a third of the battery is left."

Whitman raised his index finger. "I have an idea…"

"Oh, Lord," Reyes rolled her eyes in clear annoyance.

He ignored her. "We've been on Yamatai for a while now and know a good bit about it. Why don't I say something for the show? Sam can film it."

"I don't know," Sam clutched the camera closer to her. "I don't think this would be a trip we'd want to look back on."

"We're not doing anything else," Whitman shrugged his shoulders. "When would be a better time to do it than now? We're on the actual set. If everyone wants, they could even say a little about the island. It'd be good for the viewers."

"This isn't going out to the media, is it?" Reyes asked in suspicion. "I don't want to be hounded about the worst job I've ever taken in my life. Alisha doesn't need to be dragged into this either."

"She's going to find out sooner or later, Reyes. You won't be able to hide it from her forever. I would even change everyone's names to keep you all anonymous. Or I could just use your voices as voice-overs. I'm sure people could even alter them if you want."

Sam still looked hesitant, like she was squeamish about the whole idea.

"C'mon, Sam. Going on this expedition was my idea. I did the research, I hired Roth. The least you can do is film one segment of me talking about our discovery."

Sam bit her lip and glanced at the rest of the group. They didn't seem too keen on the idea of exposing the monstrosity of the island, but if it would get the doctor to shut up, then what the hell?

"Alright," she held up a finger, "one segment. And my name or anyone else's name is not to be used. Unless somebody wants to be famous for going through all of this," she looked at each of them, but none spoke up. It made Scarlett nervous at the thought of being on television, but on the other hand, it would be kind of cool to be on a set and witness the filming of a show first-hand.

Sam raised the camera to Whitman. "You know what you're going to say?"

He rotated his hand a few times near his head. "I'll just let my muse inspire me."

Sam had to keep herself from rolling her eyes. In short, he was going to "wing it". She pressed the record button.

"Okay, Dr. James Whitman, segment whatever, take one and…action," Sam karate-chopped the air with her hand to signal the camera rolling with a less than enthusiastic "action".

Whitman began speaking, putting on a cheerful face despite the desolate situation. "Hello, viewers," he waved at the camera, "this is Dr. James Whitman, coming to you straight from Yamatai. Yes, Yamatai! The lost civilization of Queen Himiko herself. Queen Himiko—" he raised his index finger and walked a couple of steps, "she was the ruler of this small island off the coast of Japan, from the years 189 to 248 A.D. What's so fascinating about Yamatai is that historians and archaeologists alike were not able to find it for hundreds of years. Its exact location was often called the "greatest debate in Japanese history". But today, viewers, all that has changed. My camera crew and I have scouted the island and we have discovered all sorts of evidence that link back to Queen Himiko: remnants of architecture, relics, and writings. This place has an abundance of history, culture—"

"Hold it right there, Whitman," Reyes interrupted. "Sam, stop rolling." Sam stopped recording and put the camera down. Reyes turned back on Whitman. "You're making it seem like this place is the Holy Grail."

"Is it not?" Whitman raised an eyebrow with a smug look.

"Okay sure, we found the needle in the haystack, but you are not going to glamorize the hell we've been through."

"Then, what would you say, Ms. Reyes?" Whitman challenged and motioned for Sam to start recording again with a beckoning of his finger. Sam zoomed in on Reyes' face.

"This place is a death trap. It's killed people. Yeah, sure, there's a whole lot of history, but it's not worth it if you're constantly being hunted down by cultists with guns and machetes. I don't know, I guess other people have been crashing here for years and they've formed this cult under this man named Mathias. And he's the worst of them. He kidnapped us and tried to kill Sam by setting her on fire! How is that 'fascinating'?!"

"Don't scare the viewers, Reyes," Whitman put a hand on his hip.

"I'm not trying to scare anyone. It's the truth! I'd tell them to stay away. Leave Yamatai a mystery. You may find this all 'wonderful' and 'fascinating', but the rest of us are fearing for our lives over here. Some of us have families to go home to."

Whitman placed a hand on his chest. "I have a wife, y'know?"

"Not anymore…" Reyes sneered.

"Okaaay…" Sam brought down the camera in hesitation. "I think that's enough. We don't need to go into any more details."

Jonah raised his hand and waved to get Sam's attention. "Reyes is right. We should warn people to not seek out Yamatai anymore, especially the historians and archaeologists."

"Would you like me to record it?"

"Yes, as a warning."

"Not on the same tape!" Whitman whined, but he was shushed by Sam, Reyes, and Lara. Sam lifted her camera again and pressed the record button.

"And…action!"

"I said this in the beginning about Yamatai, even before seeing its weather patterns on a laptop screen: this place has a bad energy. There's an evil that haunts this island and I think that's what's twisted the minds of these cult members. They claim to be worshipping the Sun Queen, you see. They've formed this hierarchy with one man as their leader. And, like Reyes said, they'll kill anyone who gets in their way. Don't come here. Stay away from Yamatai for your sake and everyone's sakes. We don't need another tragic story to end up on the news. Just know that Yamatai exists. Mark it on the map. That's it. That's all people need to know. No one should come here looking for trouble."

Sam turned the camera on Lara. "How about you, Lara? Would you want to warn anybody about coming here?"

Lara looked straight into the camera. "What everyone is saying speaks true. But I believe there's something more to all of this. Call me mad, but I have a theory that when someone tries to leave this island, a storm appears and tries to stop them. That's why this cult is here. They call themselves the Solarii, with Mathias as their leader. And they are, indeed, worshipping Himiko. Mathias thinks it's Himiko's spirit that's keeping us here; that she's controlling all of this. I don't know if that's possible, but something won't let us leave. And without finding out why, no one may ever be able to leave Yamatai, including us."

"Well spoken," Sam praised.

"Still sounds like a load of B.S.," Reyes scoffed, crossing her arms.

"Okay, I want to say something now. Lara, take the camera." Lara took it from her and slipped her hand through the side strap. She nodded her head and watched Sam through the LCD screen as she began to speak.

"Okay, first of all, I'm the reason why we're all stuck in this mess."

"Sam!" Lara frowned.

"No, no! Hear me out: If I hadn't told Mathias my grandmother's story of Himiko, he wouldn't have kidnapped me and all of you wouldn't have had to come rescue me. I'm the reason that people died," she lowered her head, her features contorting into a look of guilt. "Since I knew so much about her, he seemed obsessed with the thought that I was the 'key' for this ritual they hold. They burn women to death and I was almost one of them! I guess Mathias was trying to bring her back and thought that I was the missing piece to the puzzle after years of searching and failing. The only reason I'm still alive at this moment is because of my courageous best friend." Lara gave her a look of modesty behind the camera. "And I don't know if there'll ever be anything I can do to repay her," Sam said. "We went looking for Yamatai, but it's an absolute disaster. Take my word for it, please. Let it all die. Let it all burn. No one needs to come here to see for themselves. Stay away."

Scarlett felt her stomach churn. Everyone was saying something in warning and she knew they'd probably want her statement as well.

Sam took the video camera from Lara. "Anyone else?" She glanced around the group, but Scarlett knew she was addressing her. She stared into the sand and folded her lips in, hoping that would make her invisible to the rest of the group. "Scarlett? Do you wanna say anything?"

Scarlett put her hands out in front of her. "I'm good."

"Nothing? The more statements we have, the more people will believe us. You could help save lives," Sam convinced. Well, when she put it that way…

Scarlett sighed and gave in. Sam raised the camera and gave a nod. The red light appeared on the device and Scarlett stared at it, knowing the seconds were ticking by. At the very thought of being recorded, telling people about this place, what she had been through, Whitman leaning forward in his chair and ready to scrutinize her answer, her mind went blank. She hadn't prepared anything to say. Instead, she was going to appear like a stuttering fool.

Say something…

She had known several seconds went by in silence and she wanted to kick herself for sputtering out one word.

"Bad…This place is bad. Don't come here. It killed my friends. I'm lucky to be alive as it is. Though sometimes…I wish…" She didn't know what came over her as her nose began to burn and her eyes had turned red with tears. She cursed herself for succumbing to tears in front of these people, in front of the camera. She was a baby; a wimpy, sensitive baby, who couldn't put the past behind her. She couldn't decide what she was crying for: Zoey, all of her crewmates, herself. Maybe it was all three. She could remember wishing that she was dead multiple times instead of facing all of these traumas. Death would have been easier than carrying around this burden of guilt, shame, and mourning. Sometimes it felt like too much for a person like her. Why hadn't she been put out of her misery sooner? Why hadn't Mathias burned her first?

Sam pressed the button on the camera to stop recording. Scarlett hadn't even witnessed the red light shut off. She was too absorbed in her own torment.

"I'm so sorry, Scarlett," Sam grabbed her hand. "You did a good thing, though. You may have stopped someone from being stupid and coming over here looking for trouble. You did well."

Scarlett nodded her head, comforted to hear praise that she did something good for once.

"I think she could've offered more," Whitman mumbled under his breath as he leaned back in his chair.

"Let it go, Whitman," Jonah crossed his arms, eyes narrowed to slits in warning.

"Alright, fine. I won't prod," he waved his hands in defeat. "But I am curious," Whitman looked at Scarlett, whom was flicking the scales off of her fish. "I feel like I've seen you before. Were you that person that Nikolai was guarding before the ritual?"

Scarlett stopped breathing. Oh, no.

"Did he ever say anything to you? I was trying to ask him some questions, but he slammed the door in my face. Locking himself in the same room as you, did anything happen or was he civil?"

"Are you asking if he hurt her?" Reyes raised an eyebrow.

"We just…talked. Mostly him, though," Scarlett answered, her mood dampening more at the thought of the now dead Solarii.

"About what?" He pulled his notebook out of his satchel.

Scarlett shrugged. "About how he came to the island, about how shitty his life was, what he's had to do."

"Could you give any examples, please?" He took the pen from out of the spine of the book and flipped to a half-empty page.

"Whitman, stop pegging the poor girl with questions," Reyes fussed. "She obviously doesn't want to talk about it. I'm sure it was bad enough to be in the same room as one of those bastards," she shook her head.

"He was…actually the nicest one I've met. He'd hurt me initially, but actually apologized afterwards. Said I've been through enough hell. He was the one that let me go after the ritual was over. Even gave me this," she reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out the half-moon shaped Japanese comb to show them. She held it out in front of her before passing it to Sam.

"Ooh, it's a kushi!" she said with fondness and tenderly looked it over in her palms. "My grandmother would get me these for holidays. I wear them all the time in Japan, especially to a fancy place."

She passed it on to Lara, whose eyes lit up like a child's on Christmas morning. "Looks to be made out of lacquered wood," she ran her fingers over the spine. "I think these circles are even mother-of-pearl! It's beautiful!" She handed it to Reyes and noticed how Scarlett's eyes were glued to the comb.

"So," Lara got her attention, "why do you think he was lenient with you? It's odd, especially since he worked for Mathias."

"He was indifferent towards me," Sam piped up.

Scarlett shrugged, pausing to come up with an answer. "I don't know. I must've looked pretty bad when I was brought to the palace. Maybe he felt sorry for me." It was not a lie. He did feel sorry for her, but the reasoning went deeper than just superficial appearances.

"That's pretty hard to believe," Reyes muttered with skepticism. "I don't think any of these men have hearts."

"They're still people, Reyes," Whitman reminded her, noting down details in his journal with his right hand while possessing the comb in his left. "Survivors, just like you and me. And they're scared. They all look to Mathias so that he gives them some kind of guidance and purpose. They believe he can deliver them to freedom. And I must say," he chuckled, "I'm pretty jealous of his speaking skills. He has a marvelous voice for demanding authority."

"Why don't you marry him, then?" Sam crossed her arms.

"As to answer your question, Lara, maybe he had a moment of humanity and took pity on her for what she's been through. I think she went through some pretty harrowing events with his brother, if you catch my drift."

Scarlett's stomach plummeted towards her feet. Her mouth went dry. He didn't know about that, did he?

"Oh, what was his name?" Whitman clicked his pen repeatedly in remembrance. "Vladimir?"

Scarlett thought she was going to vomit at hearing that name again. How could Whitman tell everybody that?!

The group was silent for a moment before Reyes spoke up. "'Catch your drift'? What's that supposed to mean?" she wrinkled her nose in confusion.

Whitman raised his eyebrows at what he thought should be obvious. "Well…they…" he trailed off, seeming too modest to complete the sentence.

Oh. My. God. Scarlett was going to have another panic attack right here and now. It felt like she was inches away from being dipped in hot tar.

"What?" Lara's mouth parted in shock.

"You?" Reyes stared directly at her. "With one of them?"

"I didn't know that!" Sam squeaked. "And I thought I had it bad!"

"I…I…" Scarlett looked at everyone's faces and suddenly brought her hands to cover her eyes like a little girl caught doing something wrong.

"Did it really happen?" Sam asked, distress bleeding into her voice. "Were you raped?"

Warm tears flooded her eyes and made their way down her cheeks at that horrifying word as though a dam had given way. After a few moments when she deemed that she was stable enough to speak, Scarlett brought her hands away from her face to try and explain herself. "He…he…he was gonna kill me," she hiccupped between hysterical sobs. "I was scared. I didn't want to. I had to make him like it. Every day he wanted to. I'm sorry," she apologized to them, even though they were innocent. "I'm so sorry."

"This place just got even more fucked up," Reyes sighed and put her own face in her hands. Everyone was silent once again to register the seriousness of the conversation as Scarlett continued to sob. She wished someone would say something, anything; anything to get their minds off of this…thing that happened to her. She didn't even care if it was about how fishy this fish that was now full of sand tasted.

"Is he dead?" Reyes asked quietly.

Scarlett nodded immediately, happy that she broke the quiet. "Lara killed him," she sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

"Good," she nodded. "Hopefully, he wasn't infected with anything."

The group looked at one another.

"Like…STD's?" Sam asked in horror.

"Oh, God," Scarlett covered her face again as she felt another wave of hot tears emerge.

"Nice going, Reyes," Lara mumbled.

"I'm just saying. When I was a cop, victims were recommended to do a rape kit and strongly recommended to get tested. Who knows what these people have been exposed to or where they came from," Reyes crossed her arms again in disgust.

"Well, maybe he used protection," Sam said optimistically and turned to Scarlett. "Did he at least use a condom?"

Scarlett shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut at what this could possibly mean.

"I wouldn't think there'd be many condoms on Yamatai, Sam," Reyes said cynically. "Not like you can go and pick up a pack at the nearest convenience store."

"These islanders are scavengers, though," Whitman mediated. "They could've gotten some from salvaging the ships that come here. Or they might use animal intestines to create a make-shift one."

"WHITMAN!" Lara, Sam, and Reyes yelled at the same time.

"That's disgusting," Sam commented, her eyes as wide as saucers and fingers apart like she had touched something repulsive.

"I'm only speculating," he held up his hands defensively. "It's true, though. The meat industry does use certain by-products to make a number of things. The thing I'd be the most worried about would be her becoming…"

Scarlett stared at him. What? Becoming what? Oh…no…not that. Oh God! No! No, no, no! No, not that! She began to hyperventilate. She couldn't breathe. It felt hot and cold at the same time. She was spiraling down at the thought of her life turning to shambles at the possibility! She grabbed her head, her vision dancing and her chest becoming tight.

"Becoming what?" Sam asked. Reyes rocked her arms back and forth, cradling a pretend bundle. "PREGNANT?!" Sam shouted, backing away in repulsion. "Oh, my GOD!"

"Whoa! Guys, stop it!" Jonah got all of their attention by waving his arms. "We're blowing this way out of proportion and we're giving Scarlett a heart attack over here."

"It's called reality, Jonah. She can't just wish the problem away," Reyes said.

"But, what're the chances of that actually happening to her?"

"It's hard to say. Depends on where she was in her cycle. But with the stress she's been under, I'd say the odds are pretty slim. Reproduction is usually the first thing to go kaput when you've been under stress for a while."

Scarlett felt an immense weight lifted off of her chest. She wasn't pregnant. There was nothing growing inside her.

"But, I mean, it still happens to people. I wouldn't discount it altogether," Reyes warned. "But I'd say that's not the thing to be most worried about at the moment."

Scarlett nodded her head as though she were in a daze. The scare still hadn't worn off yet. How could it? How could she put something like this out of her mind right now? It was a BIG thing. Life-altering. Forever.

"Well, this escalated quickly," Whitman crossed his arms.

"You're the one who brought it up. How's that for your campfire story?" Lara asked him bitterly.

"I just wanted to make conversation. I was curious. "

"Curiosity kills the cat," she muttered coolly.

Another pause ensued. Lara turned back to the book at her side and opened it up, dust flying between page flips. Sam wrapped an arm around Scarlett's shoulders while Scarlett rocked back and forth, embracing her knees to her chest, telling herself everything was going to be alright over and over. Reyes was inspecting her handgun and Jonah was drawing in the sand with a skewer. Whitman was writing in his journal. His head popped up again.

"I have another question."

"Oh, now what?!" Reyes rolled her eyes.

Whitman frowned at her before turning back to Scarlett. "What was it like being with him? I've only met the man once and he wasn't too pleasant. How did he treat you? Did he keep you tied up? Did he feed you? If the Solarii sacrifice women, then did that mean he was disobeying Mathias' rules? With all that you've been through, you could write a story of survival, Scarlett."

Scarlett was ready to burst into tears again. She shook her head, not wanting to speak of the atrocity any longer.

"No, I'm serious," he went on, "you can use your tragedy to your advantage. You could write about everything that happened. It could also be therapeutic."

Scarlett grimaced at the thought of re-living every one of these horrid days. And then to write them down and have other people read about what she went through…It was unthinkable. Luckily, Reyes came to her rescue.

"Whitman, she's not gonna make her life story go public, so just drop it."

"I'm telling you, she could make millions! Some women are even into the whole rape thing—" He stopped and immediately closed his mouth, like he knew he just crossed some invisible line. A big explosion was on the verge of erupting and Scarlett decided she didn't want to hear any more of it. She was sick of them fighting. And she was sick of Whitman and his lack of compassion.

"I gotta get outta here," she stood up, wiping the dampness from her face. She hurried away from the circle of survivors, but not before aggressively swiping the hair comb from Whitman's grasp. "Just leave me alone," she growled in a low voice that even surprised her. Whitman nervously broke her gaze with a clearing of his throat and a small nod. She turned to Jonah. "I won't go far. Don't follow, please." She didn't want to talk to anyone right now or listen to their regretful words. Silence, that's all she wanted; to be able to process her own fears and release all of her emotions without anyone watching.

After Scarlett was too many paces away to count, the group turned on Whitman, giving him the stink eye.

"Are you mad, Whitman?!" Lara hissed.

"What?" he wondered innocently. "I'm just saying, she doesn't have to wallow in self-pity. She could make a profit off her story."

"Get this through your thick head, Whitman: She. Was. Raped. That bastard hurt her. She's already been humiliated and she's been beating herself up ever since. Couldn't you see that or, at least, have the common decency to keep your mouth shut? How daft are you?!"

"Sure. Right now she's trying to process all of her emotions. The human mind is resilient, though. Give it a few months or years. She'll come around."

"I don't think she'll be 'coming around' any time soon," Sam jumped in. "Didn't you see how she was crying? Those were no ordinary tears, like 'oh no, I just broke up with my boyfriend' tears. That crying came from her gut. Does that sound like she'll 'come around' in a few months to you?"

Whitman shrugged. "Well, I—"

"She probably thinks her life is over," Reyes added. "It could take years of healing; perhaps her entire life. She may never get over it for all we know."

"Alright, alright! Sorry I ever opened my mouth!"

"Don't tell us. Apologize to her when she gets back," Reyes told him. "Hopefully she won't stay out there too long because she doesn't have a gun."


Scarlett walked away from camp with her arms ensnared around her torso. She decided that Sam was right: Whitman was an arrogant douchebag, who only cared about himself. She hated him, hated how he humiliated her in front of everyone without an ounce of guilt. Scarlett glared even more as her thoughts went to a different place. What if he had been raped? She bet he wouldn't be so heartless, then.

Wandering further from the beach, she came upon a pond, dipped her hand into the water, and drank. She looked back towards the shore and could see the yellow and orange flames from the campfire a few hundred yards away, with the small outlines of the survivors sitting around it. She peered down into the water again and waited until the ripples were no more so that she could clearly see her reflection. And what she saw disgusted her: she looked sickly. Her face was thin and deathly pale. The circles under her eyes were almost black and her hair was a braided mess. She wiped her face clean until there were no more remains of dark matter on her face. Then, she ripped out the twine barely holding her hair together and began to harshly run the comb through her grisly mane. She almost liked the pain whenever she came across a knot. It fueled her anger at Whitman. It was also a lovely distraction from the embarrassment and sadness that had overtaken her. Almost like she was ripping away the knot of despair from her life. Again and again, she pulled at her hair until there was a pile of dark strands in her lap. As she dusted them away, her eyes landed on her abdomen. A lump formed in her throat as she rested a cold hand on top of her shirt.

Pregnant…with his child. She shuddered at the thought. What if the baby looked like him? She'd have to stare at that face every day for the rest of her life. It wouldn't be the baby's fault; it would just be the circumstances. Would she even want to keep it? She was nowhere near ready to be a parent yet. She hadn't even finished college. She lived at home, got free food, boarding, and laundry done for her. She wasn't ready to have someone else dependent on her. Of course, her parents would probably help her, but—oh, her parents! What would they say if they found out? Would they treat her any differently? Adoption was always an option, certainly, but how would she feel knowing that there was a child of a monster running around and playing like a normal kid?

A bizarre thought suddenly crossed her mind: Vladimir being a father. No, it was too weird. A chill ran through her as her brain even mentally put the words together in a sentence. He was a cruel, sick man. But she wondered what he was like before he got stuck on this island? Nikolai said he was a troublemaker when he was younger, but maybe he wasn't always that bad. Maybe he was a decent guy, but then this place twisted and warped him into that monster that tortured her. Some people even say when men see their child for the first time, they change. What if he did?

Scarlett shook her head back and forth like a rabid dog to rid her mind of the stupid thought and hid her face in her hands. She was getting herself all worked up and letting her imagination run wild again. She kept her face covered and laid down. The thought of dying didn't really seem so horrible right now.