Screams. That's all Jason could hear. Screams. People were screaming. Something was happening. Jason was back in that hell. The one where he couldn't move or see, just hear. He heard screams coming from everywhere. They were filling his mind. He felt like he was going crazy. He couldn't take it anymore; he opened his mouth and screamed also.

The pain was what really woke him up. He found himself lying in a cot in a warehouse of some sort, his jaw was burning furiously, and he had a fever.

"Ohh!" Jason wailed. The pain was getting worse.

"Will you stop whining?" shouted a voice.

The voice startled him and he reached for his side arm, but found nothing.

"You have no weapon. Stated the voice. It got lost during the fight. Actually massacre would be a better word.

Jason looked up to see a beautiful young woman walking towards him. She had brown hair with blonde streaks, naturally tanned skin, and sparkling blue-green eyes. It was obvious that she was of Mexican heritage.

Your lucky, it's rare for a person to survive a blow from a P. D. D. You got out of there with a cracked jaw, three bruised ribs, and a large gash on your forehead, but you're alive. There's the upside.

"Where is my crew?" Jason asked softly.

The woman's face grew solemn and sad. She turned her head. "You know, P.D.D. is short for Punta Del Diablo, which means spike of the devil, for obvious reasons." She was trying to change the subject. It was obvious.

Jason grabbed her arm. "My crew?"

"I'm sorry. She stated. None of them made it." She then left his side, leaving him to grieve.

He grew silent, letting it all wash over him. He bit his lip, keeping back whatever was about to come out, but he couldn't hold it any longer. His face grew hot, his blood was boiling, and it all came out in a heap of rage. "FUCKING UNDEAD!!!! He screamed furiously while banging his fists on the hard concrete floor. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THIS TOWN!!! His whole body was moving around furiously. A woman ran to him and called for some help as she proceeded to calm him down. Two big guys ran over to him and held him down while a man wearing a ragged lab coat walked over to his side. He had in his hand a syringe with some kind of serum inside of it. Jason looked at the man and viciously told him, "Get your freakin needle away from me or I'll jab it up your ass!"

The doctor took a step back, his face looked stunned. "This is just to help you sleep . . . he started to tell him but Jason just didn't want to listen and broke through the man's sentence...

"Buddy, I've passed out 3 times in the past day. I don't need anymore fucking sleep." He told the nervous doctor. Then he looked up at the two guys holding him down and angrily shouted "Hey, Thack and Zorg, would you mind getting your freaking chubbs off me so I can sit up?" The two men grew angry. One of them reared back to punch Jason when the woman he met earlier ran up to the guy and told him to take a walk. She then looked at the other guy and nodded him off to join his friend.

"You shouldn't be so hateful. I know that you are angry about the death of your friends but you should put that anger to good use. We have all the hate we need around here. Now either go to sleep or shut the hell up because me and the others have work to do, got that?" Her voice was calm yet demanding. Jason liked that about her already. He lied back and closed his eyes.

"I don't suppose you know what is happening around here," he spouted sarcastically.

"None of us do. We are just trying to get rescued, but are starting to realize that what enters this town doesn't leave. You are lucky, be happy for that."

"And my crew," He asked strongly "what about them? What about their families?"

The woman sighed. "Your friends are dead, so what. My family is dead too. I've been living here all my life and just when I was preparing to leave, this shit starts happening. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, mourn later, and stay alive now." Jason didn't hear anything else from her. When he looked up she was walking away quickly, wiping something away from her eyes. At that moment, he realized that coping with the realization of the disaster was a job no one deserved, yet every survivor had.