APN: Whoo-hoo . . . hey everyone, I made it here at last! I've got
chapter 13 here, and I've got exactly what I promise . . . yes, Marguerite
actually appears in this chapter! Yaaay! (winks at Audrey).
Again, I wanna say . . . I'm still disappointed with the reviews I've been receiving. Not for the reviews I did receive—everyone who reviewed, you've got my sincerest gratitude and respect—but to those who didn't review, well, I'm kind of sad. But hey, what can I do? I could stop posting the rest of the chapters, but honestly, I don't want to, and I'm not going to, either. I don't want to disappoint the—let me count—the six people that actually have been dropping me a line. To those six—I can't thank you enough. Seriously, I love you guys! You're the only reason I've kept on writing! Thank you, once again.
A note to my faithful reviewers:
Audrey: hey girl! Glad you ended up reviewing . . . better late than never, right? Right! And yes-yes, don't worry . . . like I said before, Marguerite is in this chapter! Whoo-hoo! Thanks for staying faithful to me by reviewing! It really means a lot to me!
And hey . . . I haven't seen your story around for a while. I hope you post your next chapter soon! I hope you don't have writer's block, like I do! LOL. Hope to see your next chapter soon!
Evil Irish Eyes: LOL . . . you'd better watch it there, chickie . . . I don't think that Marguerite likes you getting so close to her Roxton! ROFL! But anyways . . . *throws down rope to hanging EIE, who grabs it and climbs up to top of 10000000000000000-mile-high cliff* eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!! Come here, girl! *strangles EIE with hug* OMG, I LOOOOOOOOVED your last review! Seriously, it made my whole week—actually, make that my whole month! I'm so happy that you like this story so far, and I'm so glad that you've been so patient with me! I can't thank you enough! Truly, YOU are the best . . . EVER! I mean it! And HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I'm so sorry, I'm just laughing at the fact that anyone can be jealous of *me*! Yeah right! EIE, I am jealous of YOU, girl! That green-eyed monster has got me in its jaws! You always get these great reviews . . . and you have an awesome story . . . ahhhh! You're so lucky! But hey, you deserve everything you get! Really, you do. You're an awesome writer, and an awesome girl! I'm serious. Thank you for everything!
Speaking of your story . . . how's the next chapter making out? I really hope to see it posted soon! I can't WAIT! YA-HAHAHAHA!
Thank you AGAIN for your awesome reviews. You are THE best of THE best. Until next time, EIE!
Lady Kate: Hehe, don't worry! You didn't seem rude at all! :-) I'm glad you're still keeping up with my story. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I hope to see another review from you soon! Thank you sooooo much! :-)
A. Windsor and Wdge: Hey guys, what's up?! Thanks for reviewing, as usual! You guys are GREAT! And don't worry—your questions about Brett will be answered very soon, I promise! At least, I hope you don't die of boredom before I get there! LOL, no, I'm kidding . . . the answer will come soon! Hope to hear from you guys soon!
Steph: Hey there . . . I'm glad you decided to review! LOL, I hope you keep going . . . you're on a role, now! Thank you! And about Roxton . . . yeah, I found his mercilessness to be out of his character, too. Hmmm . . . I think I should work on it. But thank you for the suggestion/correction. I really appreciate it when people do that and try to help me out . . . I know I'm not a professional writer, but hey, no one's perfect! Least of all me! Thank again! Hope to see another review from ya soon!
THANK YOU AGAIN, to everyone who reviewed. Please bear with my tardiness . . . I hope that it doesn't discourage you from reading! I hope you all enjoy the next chapter . . . and I'll hopefully hear from you all when you review! *Hint-hint—wink-wink*. And here's . . . chapter thirteen! Enjoy!
Chapter Thirteen—The Truth Comes Out
"John! John! John. . . !"
The blackness of the alleyway began to fade away, as Roxton opened his tear- stricken eyes. He looked down at Jenkins, who smiled from the ground maniacally at seeing Roxton's pain.
"Roxton! What's the matter with you?" Veronica took hold of Roxton's shoulders and madly began to shake him. "Snap out of it!"
Aside, Challenger, who had his rifle aimed at Jenkins, watched Roxton curiously. 'It's completely obvious that John knows who this man is,' thought Challenger, 'but how? How did this stranger come to the plateau, and why?' Challenger's mind trailed off as he thought of questions, many questions that would have to remain unanswered, for now. He let his rifle slowly drop.
Jenkins, noticing the deep-in-thought Challenger, the oblivious Roxton, and the anxious Veronica trying to snap him back into reality, suddenly saw his chance. Scowling and clenching his teeth, he pulled his pinned-down wrist out of Roxton's grasp. He formed his free hand into a tight fist, and with a loud shout, rammed it into Roxton's face.
"Unh!" Roxton groaned as his head connected with the ground below. His eyes fell shut once again, as he lost his consciousness and blacked out.
Veronica's eyes widened in surprise. "No!" she shouted, and sprang up from her crouching position. She grabbed a knife that was resting in her boot, and held it out defensively in front of her.
Unfortunately, Jenkins was quicker. He jumped up to his feet, and grabbed his fallen gun off the ground. As Veronica swung in her arm to attack him with her knife, he blocked the attack with his rifle and twisted it around, making the knife fly out of the surprised Veronica's hand.
"You're fast, my lovely," said Jenkins as he sickly gazed at Veronica from head to toe, grinning wickedly, "but not as fast as me!" He kept his grin as he gripped his rifle and swung it through the air, whacking Veronica on the side of her head.
"Haughn!" Veronica cried as she dizzily collapsed to the ground. "Ohhh," she groaned in pain, touching her sore head, "Challenger . . . do something. . . !" she managed to cry out, before she too fell unconscious.
Challenger was already on it. "Don't you move!" he growled in a harsh voice, as Jenkins moved to escape, thrusting his rifle forward in his direction.
Jenkins stopped in his tracks. He turned around to face Challenger, and laughed unkindly. "My, you sure healed quickly, old man," he said curtly, gesturing to Challenger's chest where his wound lay wrapped underneath his clothing. He laughed again as he saw the surprised expression on Challenger's face.
Challenger narrowed his eyes. "You. . . ." he growled, "it was you who was outside that night! You were watching the treehouse . . . and you were the one that shot me!"
"Affirmative, my dear Challenger," replied Jenkins as he grinned once again, "That's George Challenger, isn't it? Head of the Challenger Expedition?"
Challenger scowled, stepping forward. "Why were you watching the treehouse?" he demanded. "Why are you even here in the first place? What do you want?"
Jenkins gaze suddenly fell to the ground, where he stared at the unconscious Roxton. "The Honourable Lord John Roxton." He paused. "He knows why I'm here, and what I've come to do. Ask him."
"What does John Roxton have to do with any of this?"
Jenkins sneered. "That's for me to know . . . and for you to find out." And at that moment, Jenkins whirled around and took off into a run.
"Not so fast!" shouted Challenger, as he spontaneously pressed the trigger on his rifle.
A shot rang out, and a sharp cry pierced the air.
Challenger frowned as he lowered his smoking rifle. He had managed to shoot Jenkins in the leg, sending him into a limp as he struggled to run away.
"That should slow him down," said Challenger, squinting as he looked into the distance. He then turned to the unconscious Roxton, and ran to his aid. He bent down in front of him and turned him over. "Roxton," he softly called. He examined the large bruise on John's forehead. "You took quite a hard punch, my friend," he said, smiling slightly, "but you'll be okay."
Next, Challenger turned to Veronica. He went to his knees, and gently turned Veronica's head to the side. "Oh, Veronica," he gasped, as he saw the blood drip down the side of Veronica's head.
"Ohhh. . . ." A sudden groan emerged from Veronica, as she moved her head and groggily opened her eyes.
"Shh, Veronica," came Challenger's calming voice, as he gently held her head still, "it's okay, my dear. Just lay still for a moment."
"Challenger. . . ?" moaned Veronica, squinting up at the man leaning above her. "What happened? What's going on . . . and why does my head hurt so much?"
Challenger smiled encouragingly down at the jungle beauty. "Everything's okay, Veronica. You've just suffered a very minor concussion, but you'll be all right."
"Concussion?" asked a surprised Veronica, as she moved her hand up to touch her sore head. Her eyes went wide as her fingers felt the sticky blood. She brought back her hand and gasped at seeing the red blood on her fingertips. "Oh my God. . . ."
"Shh, it's alright, Veronica," said Challenger, removing a few bloody locks of blonde hair that stuck to her wound, "it's alright." He sighed as he got up and walked towards a tree, where he had dropped the first-aid kit when Jenkins had surprised them. "It's a good thing you convinced me to bring this," said Challenger, bending down once again to clean and bandage Veronica's wound.
Veronica winced as Challenger cleaned Veronica's wound. "How's Roxton?" she asked anxiously, "is he okay?"
Challenger took out some cotton gauze from the first-aid kit. "Roxton's going to be just fine," replied Challenger, "he's also suffered from a small head injury—just a rather large punch in the face, that's all."
Veronica frowned. "Did you see that look in his eyes, when he saw that man's face?" she asked. "Something happened to him . . . it was as if he just shut down inside! Either that or he stared into the face of a ghost!"
"A ghost indeed," Challenger mumbled, shaking his head. After making sure Veronica's wound was properly cleaned, he lightly set the gauze on Veronica's head. "No. Roxton definitely knew that man—what did he say his name was?"
"Brett Jenkins," Veronica replied.
"Brett Jenkins. . . ." Challenger repeated. He turned over to where Roxton lay silently, and then looked down at the ground. "It looks like Roxton has his secrets as well." He sighed. "I'm sorry, Roxton. But I'm afraid that this can't stay a secret any longer. Not only is it a threat to you . . . it has become a threat to all of us as well."
Marguerite sighed with satisfaction, as she smiled and put her hands behind her head and leaned back in her chair. "Ah," she said as she put up her feet on a chair sitting opposite to her.
She was lounging outside on the balcony. It was a lovely day today . . . the sun was shining, and there was a nice, cool breeze. There wasn't even a single cloud in the sky.
It was literally the perfect day. Even the recovering Challenger had gone out for some fresh air, with Veronica and John to watch over him. So, she thought, if they went out to enjoy the day . . . why shouldn't she?
Marguerite smiled to herself again. She turned her head to the side, and called out: "Ned! Oh, Ned. . . ."
Malone suddenly came rushing out of the treehouse and stood on the balcony beside the reclining heiress. He paused to pant for air. "Yes, Marguerite?" he asked.
"Ned." Marguerite put on her innocent face. "Would you be a dear and get me another cup of herbal tea with honey?" Her voice sung out sweetly.
"Again, Marguerite?" asked an incredulous Malone. "I was in the middle of writing something in my journals. Would you mind getting it yourself this time? I mean, there's nothing wrong with your legs, is there?" Malone sighed as Marguerite pouted her lips. "Oh, all right. Sure thing, Marguerite—one cup of hot herbal tea with honey coming right up." He turned back to step into the treehouse, and suddenly paused. "Can I get you anything else, Your Highness?" He smiled jokingly.
Marguerite's face lit up. "Mmm, that would be lovely, Malone! Do we have any leftover raptor meat?"
Malone raised his eyebrows. Herbal tea with honey and raptor meat? "Uh, yeah, I believe so."
Marguerite beamed. "Good. I'll have some of that, then . . . with strawberries and whipped cream on top. . . ."
At that moment, Malone's stomach lurched. "What!" he exclaimed. "Marguerite, are you serious?!"
Marguerite's smile twisted into a frown. "Quite serious," she replied, giving him a small glare.
Ned's eyes widened. "Marguerite! That . . . that's disgusting!" he cried. "And where, might I ask, do you suppose I'll find strawberries? Or whipped cream, for that matter?"
"Oh, I don't know." Marguerite shrugged. "But you're a smart man. I'm sure you can find strawberries . . . or figure out a way to make whipped cream. Right?"
Malone chortled. "Uh . . . right." He shook his head. 'It must be the pregnancy talking,' he thought, 'Challenger warned us all that this would happen. But raptor meat with strawberries and whipped cream!' He shuddered. "Is there anything else I can get you, Marguerite?"
Marguerite looked up in thought. She grinned as she thought of the wild turkey Roxton had brought home yesterday. Yes . . . she would ask Malone to take out its gizzard and fry it for her! She licked her lips in anticipation . . . turkey gizzards, if spiced properly and cooked to perfection, would be delicious! They would be nice and brown and crispy and. . . .
"Oh!" Marguerite suddenly cried, gasping as she put her hand to her lower abdomen.
Malone jumped to attention. "Marguerite. . . ?" he ran to her side and bent down. "Are you alright?" He gulped. "It's not . . . it's not time yet . . . is it?"
Marguerite turned to look at Malone's frightened face, and burst into laughter. "Oh no! Malone, you silly boy . . . of course it's not time yet!" She giggled as Malone sighed in relief. "No . . . we've still got two months, at least, until this little guy or little girl comes out." She gently patted her swollen abdomen. "This little fellow just gave me a small kick, that's all."
She turned to Malone and smiled. "Ned . . . would you like to feel the kick?"
"Oh . . . what . . . huh?" the innocent Malone asked, his voice quivering as he blushed. "Well . . . sure, if you really don't mind. . . ."
"Ned. Of course I don't mind. Here, give me your hand." Marguerite took Malone's shaky hand and gently set it on her abdomen. "That's it, right there. Now wait for it. . . ."
Suddenly, Malone felt a little jolt underneath the palm of his hand, as the baby inside of Marguerite gave another kick. "Whoa!" he cried, and smiled up at Marguerite. "Wow. I felt that one!" He smiled again. "Your son or daughter sure is pretty strong."
Marguerite looked at her abdomen and smiled. "Well, they've got their father's strong legs," she said, and giggled once again.
"Oh, Marguerite. I'm so happy for you and John. Really, I am." Ned put a friendly had on Marguerite's shoulder.
Marguerite's eyes sparkled, as her smile broadened. "You don't know how much that means to me, Malone. Thank you."
"Don't mention it, Marguerite—"
All of a sudden, the loud clanking noises of the elevator ascending interrupted their warm conversation. "Hey, it looks like they're back!" said Malone, slowly rising up from his kneeling position. "Come on, let's go inside to greet them." He extended his hand, and Marguerite took it. He gently pulled her up from her chair. "Thanks, Malone," she said.
"Like I said before—don't mention it." He smiled, thankful that Marguerite had forgotten about her bizarre appetite for the moment.
Marguerite held a secure hand against her abdomen as she walked back into the treehouse with Malone. "Good afternoon, everybody!" she breezily said in a singsong voice as she strode towards the elevator. "So, how was your little walk—" Marguerite abruptly gasped as she saw Challenger and a wounded Veronica gently lift an unconscious Roxton out of the elevator.
Malone's eyes widened, as Marguerite shrieked. "Oh my God . . . what happened to him?!" Marguerite ran over to Roxton, as Challenger and Veronica set him on his feet.
"Easy, Marguerite," cautioned Challenger, "he's still a little unsteady."
"John . . . oh God, John!" Marguerite took his limp arm and swung it around her shoulders. She led him out to the balcony and settled him in the chair she had been sitting in. The others followed suit, and gathered around the chair.
Roxton groaned, as he felt Marguerite stroke his cheek. "Oh . . . Marguerite. . . ?"
Marguerite swallowed nervously as she took his hand and put it on her face. "Yes, John, it's me. I'm here." She moved his hand to her lips and kissed it.
Malone turned to Veronica and Challenger. "What happened to John?" he worriedly inquired. As his eyes came to Veronica's injured head, he gasped. "Veronica! What happened to you?!" He softly touched the bandaged area on Veronica's head.
Veronica sighed. "Malone . . . we were attacked."
"Attacked!" Malone exclaimed. "By whom?" He turned to look at Challenger, who cleared his throat. Malone nodded as he began to realize. "Was it . . . was it the same person that shot you, Challenger?"
Challenger nodded. "Yes, Malone. It was the same man."
"But . . . how do you know for sure?"
"Simply because he told me so," replied Challenger, frowning deeply.
Marguerite looked up at Challenger. "Who is this man?" she suddenly demanded, narrowing her eyes in anger. "Who is this bastard that keeps attacking us? And what does he want with John, or any of us, for that matter?!"
Veronica stepped forward. "His name is Brett Jenkins," she replied, "we know that much." She gave Marguerite and Malone a sympathetic smile. "Marguerite, Ned . . . we don't mean to alarm you or anything, but . . . Roxton recognized him."
Marguerite gasped as she turned to the awakening Roxton. "John . . . knows this man?" she asked in surprise.
Challenger nodded. "We believe so, Marguerite. As soon as Roxton laid his eyes on this man . . . he yelled out his name, just before going into shock. He blanked out for a while. It was as if Roxton went through some sort of nervous breakdown."
Marguerite paid attention to Challenger as he continued recounting the whole story. She turned white, as she tightly gripped Roxton's hand. She made no sound until Challenger had finished telling her everything. "So this Brett Jenkins came to the Plateau looking for Roxton," she concluded, frowning grimly.
Challenger slowly began to nod. "We have very good reason to believe so, Marguerite."
"But why?" asked a confused Malone, as he furrowed his brow and looked up at Challenger. "Why would this Jenkins character come all the way to the Plateau just to find and hurt Roxton? And if it's Roxton he wants, then why bother to attack us?"
Challenger returned Malone's gaze. "The answer is quite simple, Malone. This man wants revenge. And he'll do anything to get it . . . even if it means hurting Roxton's loved ones, like us."
Roxton, who was now awake and had been listening to the ongoing conversation,
sighed, and opened his eyes. "He's right," he groaned, as he sat up in his chair, "Challenger's right."
Marguerite jerked her head back to look at Roxton. "John!" she cried, and encircled her arms around his shoulders. She buried her face on his chest. "You had us so worried," she sighed, and moved her hand to stroke his face.
"Oh, Marguerite," Roxton breathed, as he leaned his head down and kissed Marguerite's forehead. He ran a hand through her soft, curly hair.
"John."
Both Roxton and Marguerite looked up at Challenger's stern face. Roxton frowned. "Challenger . . . I believe I have some sort of explanation in order."
"Yes indeed!" cried Challenger, as he pulled a chair beside Roxton and abruptly sat down. "And you can start by telling who your friend was—I believe his name was Brett Jenkins."
Roxton cleared his throat. "Yes. Brett Jenkins."
Veronica glared down at Roxton. "He could have killed you, John!" she cried, putting her hands on her hips. "He could have killed me, John! Or Challenger! God, he could have killed as all . . . who is this guy, Roxton? Who is he?"
Roxton looked down at the floor. "Brett Jenkins . . . we grew up together, back in London. We used to be friends."
"Used to be?" Malone asked, intrigued. "Why . . . what happened?"
Marguerite sighed as she studied Roxton's haggard and worn-out face. She placed her hand on his. "John," she said, looking him in the eye, "I—out of all people in this world—know how hard it is to reveal dark secrets from the past. We all know that." She squeezed his hand. "But John . . . you can trust me. You can trust us. You've got to know that."
Roxton looked up from the floor, and sadly smiled at Marguerite. "Marguerite . . . of course I know, Love. Of course I know." He sat up straight in his chair, and taking a breath, he looked them all in the eye one at a time, and began his story, telling them everything.
Again, I wanna say . . . I'm still disappointed with the reviews I've been receiving. Not for the reviews I did receive—everyone who reviewed, you've got my sincerest gratitude and respect—but to those who didn't review, well, I'm kind of sad. But hey, what can I do? I could stop posting the rest of the chapters, but honestly, I don't want to, and I'm not going to, either. I don't want to disappoint the—let me count—the six people that actually have been dropping me a line. To those six—I can't thank you enough. Seriously, I love you guys! You're the only reason I've kept on writing! Thank you, once again.
A note to my faithful reviewers:
Audrey: hey girl! Glad you ended up reviewing . . . better late than never, right? Right! And yes-yes, don't worry . . . like I said before, Marguerite is in this chapter! Whoo-hoo! Thanks for staying faithful to me by reviewing! It really means a lot to me!
And hey . . . I haven't seen your story around for a while. I hope you post your next chapter soon! I hope you don't have writer's block, like I do! LOL. Hope to see your next chapter soon!
Evil Irish Eyes: LOL . . . you'd better watch it there, chickie . . . I don't think that Marguerite likes you getting so close to her Roxton! ROFL! But anyways . . . *throws down rope to hanging EIE, who grabs it and climbs up to top of 10000000000000000-mile-high cliff* eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!! Come here, girl! *strangles EIE with hug* OMG, I LOOOOOOOOVED your last review! Seriously, it made my whole week—actually, make that my whole month! I'm so happy that you like this story so far, and I'm so glad that you've been so patient with me! I can't thank you enough! Truly, YOU are the best . . . EVER! I mean it! And HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I'm so sorry, I'm just laughing at the fact that anyone can be jealous of *me*! Yeah right! EIE, I am jealous of YOU, girl! That green-eyed monster has got me in its jaws! You always get these great reviews . . . and you have an awesome story . . . ahhhh! You're so lucky! But hey, you deserve everything you get! Really, you do. You're an awesome writer, and an awesome girl! I'm serious. Thank you for everything!
Speaking of your story . . . how's the next chapter making out? I really hope to see it posted soon! I can't WAIT! YA-HAHAHAHA!
Thank you AGAIN for your awesome reviews. You are THE best of THE best. Until next time, EIE!
Lady Kate: Hehe, don't worry! You didn't seem rude at all! :-) I'm glad you're still keeping up with my story. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I hope to see another review from you soon! Thank you sooooo much! :-)
A. Windsor and Wdge: Hey guys, what's up?! Thanks for reviewing, as usual! You guys are GREAT! And don't worry—your questions about Brett will be answered very soon, I promise! At least, I hope you don't die of boredom before I get there! LOL, no, I'm kidding . . . the answer will come soon! Hope to hear from you guys soon!
Steph: Hey there . . . I'm glad you decided to review! LOL, I hope you keep going . . . you're on a role, now! Thank you! And about Roxton . . . yeah, I found his mercilessness to be out of his character, too. Hmmm . . . I think I should work on it. But thank you for the suggestion/correction. I really appreciate it when people do that and try to help me out . . . I know I'm not a professional writer, but hey, no one's perfect! Least of all me! Thank again! Hope to see another review from ya soon!
THANK YOU AGAIN, to everyone who reviewed. Please bear with my tardiness . . . I hope that it doesn't discourage you from reading! I hope you all enjoy the next chapter . . . and I'll hopefully hear from you all when you review! *Hint-hint—wink-wink*. And here's . . . chapter thirteen! Enjoy!
Chapter Thirteen—The Truth Comes Out
"John! John! John. . . !"
The blackness of the alleyway began to fade away, as Roxton opened his tear- stricken eyes. He looked down at Jenkins, who smiled from the ground maniacally at seeing Roxton's pain.
"Roxton! What's the matter with you?" Veronica took hold of Roxton's shoulders and madly began to shake him. "Snap out of it!"
Aside, Challenger, who had his rifle aimed at Jenkins, watched Roxton curiously. 'It's completely obvious that John knows who this man is,' thought Challenger, 'but how? How did this stranger come to the plateau, and why?' Challenger's mind trailed off as he thought of questions, many questions that would have to remain unanswered, for now. He let his rifle slowly drop.
Jenkins, noticing the deep-in-thought Challenger, the oblivious Roxton, and the anxious Veronica trying to snap him back into reality, suddenly saw his chance. Scowling and clenching his teeth, he pulled his pinned-down wrist out of Roxton's grasp. He formed his free hand into a tight fist, and with a loud shout, rammed it into Roxton's face.
"Unh!" Roxton groaned as his head connected with the ground below. His eyes fell shut once again, as he lost his consciousness and blacked out.
Veronica's eyes widened in surprise. "No!" she shouted, and sprang up from her crouching position. She grabbed a knife that was resting in her boot, and held it out defensively in front of her.
Unfortunately, Jenkins was quicker. He jumped up to his feet, and grabbed his fallen gun off the ground. As Veronica swung in her arm to attack him with her knife, he blocked the attack with his rifle and twisted it around, making the knife fly out of the surprised Veronica's hand.
"You're fast, my lovely," said Jenkins as he sickly gazed at Veronica from head to toe, grinning wickedly, "but not as fast as me!" He kept his grin as he gripped his rifle and swung it through the air, whacking Veronica on the side of her head.
"Haughn!" Veronica cried as she dizzily collapsed to the ground. "Ohhh," she groaned in pain, touching her sore head, "Challenger . . . do something. . . !" she managed to cry out, before she too fell unconscious.
Challenger was already on it. "Don't you move!" he growled in a harsh voice, as Jenkins moved to escape, thrusting his rifle forward in his direction.
Jenkins stopped in his tracks. He turned around to face Challenger, and laughed unkindly. "My, you sure healed quickly, old man," he said curtly, gesturing to Challenger's chest where his wound lay wrapped underneath his clothing. He laughed again as he saw the surprised expression on Challenger's face.
Challenger narrowed his eyes. "You. . . ." he growled, "it was you who was outside that night! You were watching the treehouse . . . and you were the one that shot me!"
"Affirmative, my dear Challenger," replied Jenkins as he grinned once again, "That's George Challenger, isn't it? Head of the Challenger Expedition?"
Challenger scowled, stepping forward. "Why were you watching the treehouse?" he demanded. "Why are you even here in the first place? What do you want?"
Jenkins gaze suddenly fell to the ground, where he stared at the unconscious Roxton. "The Honourable Lord John Roxton." He paused. "He knows why I'm here, and what I've come to do. Ask him."
"What does John Roxton have to do with any of this?"
Jenkins sneered. "That's for me to know . . . and for you to find out." And at that moment, Jenkins whirled around and took off into a run.
"Not so fast!" shouted Challenger, as he spontaneously pressed the trigger on his rifle.
A shot rang out, and a sharp cry pierced the air.
Challenger frowned as he lowered his smoking rifle. He had managed to shoot Jenkins in the leg, sending him into a limp as he struggled to run away.
"That should slow him down," said Challenger, squinting as he looked into the distance. He then turned to the unconscious Roxton, and ran to his aid. He bent down in front of him and turned him over. "Roxton," he softly called. He examined the large bruise on John's forehead. "You took quite a hard punch, my friend," he said, smiling slightly, "but you'll be okay."
Next, Challenger turned to Veronica. He went to his knees, and gently turned Veronica's head to the side. "Oh, Veronica," he gasped, as he saw the blood drip down the side of Veronica's head.
"Ohhh. . . ." A sudden groan emerged from Veronica, as she moved her head and groggily opened her eyes.
"Shh, Veronica," came Challenger's calming voice, as he gently held her head still, "it's okay, my dear. Just lay still for a moment."
"Challenger. . . ?" moaned Veronica, squinting up at the man leaning above her. "What happened? What's going on . . . and why does my head hurt so much?"
Challenger smiled encouragingly down at the jungle beauty. "Everything's okay, Veronica. You've just suffered a very minor concussion, but you'll be all right."
"Concussion?" asked a surprised Veronica, as she moved her hand up to touch her sore head. Her eyes went wide as her fingers felt the sticky blood. She brought back her hand and gasped at seeing the red blood on her fingertips. "Oh my God. . . ."
"Shh, it's alright, Veronica," said Challenger, removing a few bloody locks of blonde hair that stuck to her wound, "it's alright." He sighed as he got up and walked towards a tree, where he had dropped the first-aid kit when Jenkins had surprised them. "It's a good thing you convinced me to bring this," said Challenger, bending down once again to clean and bandage Veronica's wound.
Veronica winced as Challenger cleaned Veronica's wound. "How's Roxton?" she asked anxiously, "is he okay?"
Challenger took out some cotton gauze from the first-aid kit. "Roxton's going to be just fine," replied Challenger, "he's also suffered from a small head injury—just a rather large punch in the face, that's all."
Veronica frowned. "Did you see that look in his eyes, when he saw that man's face?" she asked. "Something happened to him . . . it was as if he just shut down inside! Either that or he stared into the face of a ghost!"
"A ghost indeed," Challenger mumbled, shaking his head. After making sure Veronica's wound was properly cleaned, he lightly set the gauze on Veronica's head. "No. Roxton definitely knew that man—what did he say his name was?"
"Brett Jenkins," Veronica replied.
"Brett Jenkins. . . ." Challenger repeated. He turned over to where Roxton lay silently, and then looked down at the ground. "It looks like Roxton has his secrets as well." He sighed. "I'm sorry, Roxton. But I'm afraid that this can't stay a secret any longer. Not only is it a threat to you . . . it has become a threat to all of us as well."
Marguerite sighed with satisfaction, as she smiled and put her hands behind her head and leaned back in her chair. "Ah," she said as she put up her feet on a chair sitting opposite to her.
She was lounging outside on the balcony. It was a lovely day today . . . the sun was shining, and there was a nice, cool breeze. There wasn't even a single cloud in the sky.
It was literally the perfect day. Even the recovering Challenger had gone out for some fresh air, with Veronica and John to watch over him. So, she thought, if they went out to enjoy the day . . . why shouldn't she?
Marguerite smiled to herself again. She turned her head to the side, and called out: "Ned! Oh, Ned. . . ."
Malone suddenly came rushing out of the treehouse and stood on the balcony beside the reclining heiress. He paused to pant for air. "Yes, Marguerite?" he asked.
"Ned." Marguerite put on her innocent face. "Would you be a dear and get me another cup of herbal tea with honey?" Her voice sung out sweetly.
"Again, Marguerite?" asked an incredulous Malone. "I was in the middle of writing something in my journals. Would you mind getting it yourself this time? I mean, there's nothing wrong with your legs, is there?" Malone sighed as Marguerite pouted her lips. "Oh, all right. Sure thing, Marguerite—one cup of hot herbal tea with honey coming right up." He turned back to step into the treehouse, and suddenly paused. "Can I get you anything else, Your Highness?" He smiled jokingly.
Marguerite's face lit up. "Mmm, that would be lovely, Malone! Do we have any leftover raptor meat?"
Malone raised his eyebrows. Herbal tea with honey and raptor meat? "Uh, yeah, I believe so."
Marguerite beamed. "Good. I'll have some of that, then . . . with strawberries and whipped cream on top. . . ."
At that moment, Malone's stomach lurched. "What!" he exclaimed. "Marguerite, are you serious?!"
Marguerite's smile twisted into a frown. "Quite serious," she replied, giving him a small glare.
Ned's eyes widened. "Marguerite! That . . . that's disgusting!" he cried. "And where, might I ask, do you suppose I'll find strawberries? Or whipped cream, for that matter?"
"Oh, I don't know." Marguerite shrugged. "But you're a smart man. I'm sure you can find strawberries . . . or figure out a way to make whipped cream. Right?"
Malone chortled. "Uh . . . right." He shook his head. 'It must be the pregnancy talking,' he thought, 'Challenger warned us all that this would happen. But raptor meat with strawberries and whipped cream!' He shuddered. "Is there anything else I can get you, Marguerite?"
Marguerite looked up in thought. She grinned as she thought of the wild turkey Roxton had brought home yesterday. Yes . . . she would ask Malone to take out its gizzard and fry it for her! She licked her lips in anticipation . . . turkey gizzards, if spiced properly and cooked to perfection, would be delicious! They would be nice and brown and crispy and. . . .
"Oh!" Marguerite suddenly cried, gasping as she put her hand to her lower abdomen.
Malone jumped to attention. "Marguerite. . . ?" he ran to her side and bent down. "Are you alright?" He gulped. "It's not . . . it's not time yet . . . is it?"
Marguerite turned to look at Malone's frightened face, and burst into laughter. "Oh no! Malone, you silly boy . . . of course it's not time yet!" She giggled as Malone sighed in relief. "No . . . we've still got two months, at least, until this little guy or little girl comes out." She gently patted her swollen abdomen. "This little fellow just gave me a small kick, that's all."
She turned to Malone and smiled. "Ned . . . would you like to feel the kick?"
"Oh . . . what . . . huh?" the innocent Malone asked, his voice quivering as he blushed. "Well . . . sure, if you really don't mind. . . ."
"Ned. Of course I don't mind. Here, give me your hand." Marguerite took Malone's shaky hand and gently set it on her abdomen. "That's it, right there. Now wait for it. . . ."
Suddenly, Malone felt a little jolt underneath the palm of his hand, as the baby inside of Marguerite gave another kick. "Whoa!" he cried, and smiled up at Marguerite. "Wow. I felt that one!" He smiled again. "Your son or daughter sure is pretty strong."
Marguerite looked at her abdomen and smiled. "Well, they've got their father's strong legs," she said, and giggled once again.
"Oh, Marguerite. I'm so happy for you and John. Really, I am." Ned put a friendly had on Marguerite's shoulder.
Marguerite's eyes sparkled, as her smile broadened. "You don't know how much that means to me, Malone. Thank you."
"Don't mention it, Marguerite—"
All of a sudden, the loud clanking noises of the elevator ascending interrupted their warm conversation. "Hey, it looks like they're back!" said Malone, slowly rising up from his kneeling position. "Come on, let's go inside to greet them." He extended his hand, and Marguerite took it. He gently pulled her up from her chair. "Thanks, Malone," she said.
"Like I said before—don't mention it." He smiled, thankful that Marguerite had forgotten about her bizarre appetite for the moment.
Marguerite held a secure hand against her abdomen as she walked back into the treehouse with Malone. "Good afternoon, everybody!" she breezily said in a singsong voice as she strode towards the elevator. "So, how was your little walk—" Marguerite abruptly gasped as she saw Challenger and a wounded Veronica gently lift an unconscious Roxton out of the elevator.
Malone's eyes widened, as Marguerite shrieked. "Oh my God . . . what happened to him?!" Marguerite ran over to Roxton, as Challenger and Veronica set him on his feet.
"Easy, Marguerite," cautioned Challenger, "he's still a little unsteady."
"John . . . oh God, John!" Marguerite took his limp arm and swung it around her shoulders. She led him out to the balcony and settled him in the chair she had been sitting in. The others followed suit, and gathered around the chair.
Roxton groaned, as he felt Marguerite stroke his cheek. "Oh . . . Marguerite. . . ?"
Marguerite swallowed nervously as she took his hand and put it on her face. "Yes, John, it's me. I'm here." She moved his hand to her lips and kissed it.
Malone turned to Veronica and Challenger. "What happened to John?" he worriedly inquired. As his eyes came to Veronica's injured head, he gasped. "Veronica! What happened to you?!" He softly touched the bandaged area on Veronica's head.
Veronica sighed. "Malone . . . we were attacked."
"Attacked!" Malone exclaimed. "By whom?" He turned to look at Challenger, who cleared his throat. Malone nodded as he began to realize. "Was it . . . was it the same person that shot you, Challenger?"
Challenger nodded. "Yes, Malone. It was the same man."
"But . . . how do you know for sure?"
"Simply because he told me so," replied Challenger, frowning deeply.
Marguerite looked up at Challenger. "Who is this man?" she suddenly demanded, narrowing her eyes in anger. "Who is this bastard that keeps attacking us? And what does he want with John, or any of us, for that matter?!"
Veronica stepped forward. "His name is Brett Jenkins," she replied, "we know that much." She gave Marguerite and Malone a sympathetic smile. "Marguerite, Ned . . . we don't mean to alarm you or anything, but . . . Roxton recognized him."
Marguerite gasped as she turned to the awakening Roxton. "John . . . knows this man?" she asked in surprise.
Challenger nodded. "We believe so, Marguerite. As soon as Roxton laid his eyes on this man . . . he yelled out his name, just before going into shock. He blanked out for a while. It was as if Roxton went through some sort of nervous breakdown."
Marguerite paid attention to Challenger as he continued recounting the whole story. She turned white, as she tightly gripped Roxton's hand. She made no sound until Challenger had finished telling her everything. "So this Brett Jenkins came to the Plateau looking for Roxton," she concluded, frowning grimly.
Challenger slowly began to nod. "We have very good reason to believe so, Marguerite."
"But why?" asked a confused Malone, as he furrowed his brow and looked up at Challenger. "Why would this Jenkins character come all the way to the Plateau just to find and hurt Roxton? And if it's Roxton he wants, then why bother to attack us?"
Challenger returned Malone's gaze. "The answer is quite simple, Malone. This man wants revenge. And he'll do anything to get it . . . even if it means hurting Roxton's loved ones, like us."
Roxton, who was now awake and had been listening to the ongoing conversation,
sighed, and opened his eyes. "He's right," he groaned, as he sat up in his chair, "Challenger's right."
Marguerite jerked her head back to look at Roxton. "John!" she cried, and encircled her arms around his shoulders. She buried her face on his chest. "You had us so worried," she sighed, and moved her hand to stroke his face.
"Oh, Marguerite," Roxton breathed, as he leaned his head down and kissed Marguerite's forehead. He ran a hand through her soft, curly hair.
"John."
Both Roxton and Marguerite looked up at Challenger's stern face. Roxton frowned. "Challenger . . . I believe I have some sort of explanation in order."
"Yes indeed!" cried Challenger, as he pulled a chair beside Roxton and abruptly sat down. "And you can start by telling who your friend was—I believe his name was Brett Jenkins."
Roxton cleared his throat. "Yes. Brett Jenkins."
Veronica glared down at Roxton. "He could have killed you, John!" she cried, putting her hands on her hips. "He could have killed me, John! Or Challenger! God, he could have killed as all . . . who is this guy, Roxton? Who is he?"
Roxton looked down at the floor. "Brett Jenkins . . . we grew up together, back in London. We used to be friends."
"Used to be?" Malone asked, intrigued. "Why . . . what happened?"
Marguerite sighed as she studied Roxton's haggard and worn-out face. She placed her hand on his. "John," she said, looking him in the eye, "I—out of all people in this world—know how hard it is to reveal dark secrets from the past. We all know that." She squeezed his hand. "But John . . . you can trust me. You can trust us. You've got to know that."
Roxton looked up from the floor, and sadly smiled at Marguerite. "Marguerite . . . of course I know, Love. Of course I know." He sat up straight in his chair, and taking a breath, he looked them all in the eye one at a time, and began his story, telling them everything.