"Well, what do we do now?" said Jo in an exhausted voice.

It was the question David wished he knew the answer to. Everyone wished they knew the answer. He looked around the group. Weary, tired faces stared back at him. His mind then focused onto an important factor concerning the situation.

"Why'd they leave us?" he said slowly, bewilderment forming in his voice.

He understood the helicopter having to get out of the way of the gunfire, but he did not understand why they hadn't returned now that all was calm. The gunners had left, and no longer posed a threat so the lack of helicopter was quite confusing. Or so he wanted to think. The group's abandonment in the worst place in the world is not something that anyone could have done. It took great idiocy, cowardice or immorality to do such a thing.

"Double-crossing serpent", he hissed under his breath, the ball having finally dropped.

"Traitorous bitch!" came Karen's input, "I knew she was up to no good, I just knew it", her voice came in lashing anger out everywhere.

"At least Mike got away though", said Steve, completely missing the point. It was either that or reluctance to accept the fact that his friend most likely faced a terrible fate, rather than a loving relationship with a beautiful girl.

"Friends", spoke Boris to quell the uprising of bad words, "We must not stay in this place for long, we must find a way off this island". Boris believed that there was a solution for every problem. They just had to find it.

"Your right", agreed David, "We must all think of something, since its stupid just sitting around having a rant about how bad the situation is, we need to get going if we're to survive".

Thoughts did run through his mind, but they made little or no sense, whether because of the heat or fatigue, he didn't know. Boris seemed to have a rough idea though.

"If we stick to the coastline we may be able to skirt round, and hopefully find a vessel or something else to use, there will probably be a dock like there was on the other island", he hoped his words invoked a new feeling of hope in his friends. Though hoping to find a boat just lying around in full working order did seem a little too unlikely.

"I know its not the best plan, but it just might work", he continued, hoping to quell any scepticism.

"Its our only hope Boris, it'll do", replied David, bluntly, "No-one else has thought of anything". His voice however, did contain a slight trace of hope.

So the group, at last reunited, set off towards the roaring ocean that lay not too far away. It was a good time to leave too, since the predator; unbeknownst to them was still stalking its prey from the bushes, picking out David as the target.

The military helicopter landed at its destination, an aged and rather large cargo ship, not dissimilar to the one's you expect to see along trading routes. It could have been built anytime during the cold war, but the vessel stood sturdy and strong. Two burly men carried Mike's lifeless body out of the aircraft, and set him down momentarily on the ground. His wound had been bandaged so that the blood had stopped pouring out through the hole in his leg. Sarah and Stan then appeared through the vehicle's side door.

"That was some nice acting Sarah, if I didn't know any better I'd have said you really did care for him", Stan said, congratulating his niece on her charade.

"Thanks, I did always enjoy drama class", she replied cheerfully, and almost surreally in such a scenario.

The two men gestured to Stan, obviously enquiring about their burden.

"What do you want to do with the body, boss?" one of them asked.

"Take him down below", replied Stan, a broad grin forming on his face, "And leave him in the cargo hold. He will be dealt with shortly".

The men reluctantly hauled Mike away. Though they were just thugs and didn't think very much, they had detected an icy coldness about Sarah. Sure she had just shot someone she knew and liked, or rather, pretended to like, but the way she could just completely ignore it chilled them both. Blocking such a thing out was, to the thugs, who only knew basic human emotion, quite wrong and almost inhuman. Though such a thing is actually quite human.

Meanwhile Sarah stared out at the setting orange sun, through her dark, dark eyes.

For half an hour they had been trudging along the beach. David didn't like the idea that every time he took a step, his presence in the area was left in the form of a trail of footprints. He wished that there would be a breeze or something to blow away the tracks and so conceal his pathway. There was no such luck. He even contemplated walking in the surf so that the tide would erase them altogether, but in the end he didn't bother. If humans were hunting them they would need to see them first, and with a sniper scope, he could be picked off in either case. Plus he didn't want to get his feet wet, they were already uncomfortable enough from all the trekking he had been through.

Walking out in the open also made him feel uncomfortable. It seemed like the perfect opportunity for a predator to strike. Raptors came to mind again. They would be able to sprint out and get him, quite easily, and disembowel him then and there before anyone would be able to fire off a shot. He shuddered at the thought.

Jo trudged alongside him; the whole exertion of the expedition had been quite a strain on her. Her muscles were sore and aching, and she found every step increasingly quite an effort. She had her arms around him, partly for comfort, partly for support and partly for protection.

Karen and Steve were also tired, but they didn't notice it much. A fear for Mike's safety echoed through Karen's mind, whereas a general worry for a friend took place in Steve's. He didn't know what to think about the situation, and tried to block any negative thoughts out. He felt that optimism was more comfortable than the alternative, pessimism.

"I must rest", said Jo finally, "I can't go on otherwise". She didn't like the idea of being out in the open either, but knew she would be an easy target anyway if her senses were dulled by fatigue.

"I'm sure many of us feel the same way", replied Jim, "But I suggest we take a break over there". He was pointing at a rocky outcrop on the beach. If their backs were against them then nothing could come and get them from behind. Or could it? No, Jim cancelled that thought out as it was unnerving him and there was no other option.

The great orange ball that was the sun got lower and lower on the horizon. Within minutes it had vanished, leaving darkness to spread out across the land.

Night had fallen, and everyone was huddled up on the outcrop. No one was left standing, sitting or lying in the sand, as if it concealed some man-eating beast that would come up from beneath and grab them. No, the man-eating beasts here would get them wherever they went.

Jack and Hans had set up a kind of weapons nest, as if there was going to be a stand-off and they would have to defend the outcrop. Jack even kept his Springfield aiming out down the beach; Hans did likewise with his Luger. Between them they talked about the situation they were in, and kept watch for any unusual activity, if such a thing existed on Isla Sorna. Hans had been numbed by his brother's death and didn't seem to mind talking about it, though it throbbed slightly, deep down.

Bruce sat almost atop the outcrop, but with a rock strategically positioned between his back and head and the jungle so no one would be able to shoot him when he wasn't looking. Though he looked thoughtfully at the rippling texture of the water, and the moon light that it reflected, he didn't neglect the fact that there may be another sniper out there, watching, and waiting. He thought about fishing. Night was often a good time to fish, and the frequent splashing he could see in the shallow waters made him curse to himself that he hadn't any means of catching one. Even a clumsy old net would suffice, he thought. Nearby sat Ethan, still recovering from his painful encounter with the Carnotaur and Peter, who was pondering the current situation.

Karen sat with Steve. They comforted each other through the loss of Mike, though it was less obvious with Karen who kept her deep personal feelings to herself. Boris looked out at the jungle, and considered its hidden dangers. Keeping watch, Karen thought. She had developed quite a bond with the Russian, even though before 1990 he would have been strictly an enemy, a communist aggressor intent on destroying the world her elders may have summed up to her. Though all that was really before her time.

Bruce was still watching the activity beneath the waves. He scanned the area of sea and then noticed a large splash, which could have probably belonged to a large fish, such as a shark. He gestured to Peter to come and take a look.

"Over by that cave, do you see it?" Bruce pointed in the general direction of the movement in the water. If it was a shark he would need to tell everyone to stay away from the water, since they tended to hunt at night and there may be the small risk of being hunted themselves, something that they could all do with a rest from.

"Yes, I see something, but its actually coming from within the cave, I think", he agreed that there was definitely movement of some sort. A glint from something made them look further, almost straining their eyes against the darkness of the night.

"I think we better go check it out", Bruce started to head down towards the cave, which was only a hundred yards or so away when David stopped him.

"Where do you think your going?" he demanded, "We stay together or we might never see you again".

"Sorry mate, but I think there's something that needs to be checked out over in that cave", came Bruce's reply, reluctant in being held back from finding out whatever it was.

Unwilling to argue however, David replied to the man's excuse.

"Alright then, if its that important, but if you go, we all go", he said, "We'll not be separated again".

Gathering their things from their temporary resting-place, they all made the short but anxious trip to see what actually resided within the cave.

Sarah stood in the bridge of the container ship. It was dimly lit, and her uncle was hunched over a chart, reading and taking measurements from it. He was planning out a route.

A pair of strong arms slid around Sarah's waist. They belonged to her real lover, and bounty hunter, Roland Whiting, a very muscular and handsome, but ruthless man, with a shock of dark hair and deep blue eyes.

"Guess who?" he said, in a deep voice. He planted a kiss on Sarah's neck, which tingled, against his lips. She turned round at that moment and gave him a proper kiss.

"Its been awhile", she replied, when he managed to finally break away from her.

"We're together again now"; he gave the obvious, but to Sarah, romantic remark.

Changing the subject somewhat, he asked Stan, who had been busily ignoring the two while they enjoyed their embrace, a question.

"I hear you've got one of them ready", he said, "And a test subject".

"That is correct", Stan replied, still concentrating on the chart, "He's down below if you want to do it now".

"In a little while", Roland replied, "First, I think I'll unpack", he looked at Sarah and smiled as he said this. Taking his hand she went with him down to his quarters.

Bruce had been most correct in going to the caves. Upon entering they had found two military style hovercraft, with enough room onboard between them to carry everyone. The black finish of the vessels gleamed in the moonlight. Camouflage netting, with bits of navy blue material, had been carelessly draped across it. But it hadn't been enough to conceal the telltale splashes.

"Everyone get on board one of these things, we leave now", ordered Jim, jumping into the pilot's position of the craft nearest the cave opening.

"But to where?" came the realistic reply from Jo, "These things won't get us as far as Costa Rica or anywhere else. We'd die if we tried it".

"That's true", said Jim, as he fumbled around, looking for a way to start up the engine, "But we can escape this island, and go onto the next". He looked up at them all, a look of hope on his face.

"You mean Isla Nublar", said David, rather shocked at the proposal, "What good will that do, its no safer than this island".

"Yes, but it would mean being hunted by prehistoric creatures, and only prehistoric creatures, rather than having the discomfort of being hunted by our own kind at the same time. At least we are generally smarter than the average dinosaur".

David could see there was a point to it, though the comment about being more intelligent didn't make sense to him in the case of raptors. The others already had though without any hesitation, and he was the last to climb aboard one of the hovercraft.

Boris took command of the second vessel. There was no guilt in stealing the vehicles after all that had happened. It would serve the previous owners right, if they are left to die here, thought Karen, who was aboard the second craft along with Steve and Ethan, and Hans.

Both machines started, with a terrific amount of noise. They slowly rose up on their rubber skirts as the air rushed in beneath, generated by the great, but fortunately caged, fan whirring in the rear of each craft. Looking around the caves a light was suddenly switched on, flooding the cavern with a yellow and extremely unwelcome, artificial light.

Turning round Karen could see that the cave system was quite a lot more complex than just a natural indentation in the side of a cliff. It was manmade, whether from the island's previous inhabitants or from these new ones she did not know. She saw cables giving the cave system electricity, attached to the walls, something that had been hidden in the dark. Two armed figures, with a look of genuine surprise on their faces, entered through a door that had also been hidden in the darkness. This isn't a cave, it's a facility, thought Karen.

As one of the men, both armed with Kalashnikovs, swung his assault rifle to bear upon them, Boris swung round and fired his own firearm, shooting the man through the eye and splattering brains against the natural walls. Before the other man could respond, Boris squeezed off another shot, this time hitting his assailant in the neck. The man fell, clutching in futile at his wound as his very life drained away.

"Go, go, go", yelled Jim. He pushed forward on the machine's throttle. The propeller roared into life, and at last he felt that he was finally going to be leaving the dreaded island.

A dark shape loomed out of the night in front of them, accompanied with a chugging noise. Moments later a series of small explosions hit the water uncomfortably nearby. Gunboat thought Jim. These people have everything. He then caused the craft to lurch sideways to avoid another barrage of cannon shells, slamming the hovercraft into the side of the cave entrance.

The sounds of footsteps behind him alerted him to the presence of even more men approaching, who menacingly began to aim their weapons. As he glanced around, half-concentrating on what was happening behind his back and half on keeping from being blown out of the water, he saw the enemy men fall one by one, accompanied by a series of sharp barks. Hans was putting his Luger to good use, taking out the aggressors before they had a chance to aim properly. It was probably the first time the weapon had been used since the forties. Boris meanwhile kept calm about the situation. He began to turn his craft around.

"We'll have to go out the back way I think", he explained to the bewildered members of his own hovercraft, "I've figured it out, the cave system must connect with the river".

"Follow my lead, and for God's sake hold on", he said to Jim, as he finished pointing his craft towards the back of the cave, and opened up the throttle.

As Boris and those aboard his hovercraft roared off into the darkness, Jim immediately proceeded to follow. He got his own craft correctly positioned and didn't hesitate in pushing down on the throttle and accelerating away, just as more AK 47 toting thugs arrived at the scene. Now he let out a sigh of relief, once he had got out of range of the gunboat. Everyone held on to dear life as he swung round corner after corner in the darkness, following the roar and barely visible wake from Boris' craft.

It was to his great relief when he emerged into the moonlight of the jungle a few minutes later. Upon seeing Boris' craft, he cut the throttle and slowed alongside it.

"Good thinking Boris, there was no way we could have got out otherwise with that gunboat blockading us", he congratulated the Russian on his quick thinking, far too glad to be alive to bother asking how Boris had known what to do and where to go.

They floated quietly along, the green waters murky.

"We should be out to sea in about an hour and a half at this speed", said Boris quietly, "But we don't want to attract any attention, so I suggest we hide aboard and float to safety".

Everyone agreed that this was a good idea, and lay down against the deck of the craft and hoped for the best. If they had to escape, they were comforted that there was still a chance, with the help of a powerful fan to push them away from potential danger.

Leaving Sarah sleeping in his quarters, after a particularly exhausting romp for her, Roland donned a pair of black gloves and a high peaked cap. It would make one be reminded of a Gestapo officer, but it was actually a completely different uniform. He actually wore a Soviet officer's clothing, a dark green rather than the field grey of the Germans. It was time.

Not of Russian descent, he looked a little out of place in his uniform, but terrifying nevertheless. As he passed the thugs in the corridor that had carried Mike down below earlier, he could sense their intimidation. His footsteps resonating against the cold steel floor.

The predator walked slowly through the jungle, his head always tracking the floating craft on the river. Even though it was night, he could easily make out the shapes of people laying low within them. Something stirred in the river, a stream of bubbles could be seen. The predator stopped, and stalked away.

After the hour and a half had passed, Boris peered up over the side of the craft's hull. He could plainly see the sea and the horizon, a most welcome sight.

"We've done it my frien...", but before he could finish something hard slammed up from beneath him. He toppled over and landed on the deck, smashing his head against the throttle as he did so. Though the blow didn't quite knock him out he did receive a nasty cut on the side of his head.

"What the Hell was that?" asked David from the other boat, but he knew perfectly well that everyone else was just as confused about what was going on as he was.

A tremendous roar boomed out at them, a reptilian roar, and one that stirred Bruce's memories.

"It sounds like it's from a Saltie", he exclaimed. His suggestion was suddenly verified when a great pair of crocodilian jaws opened up and emerged from the river.

Jim was instantly reminded of the Spinosaur, as he peered into the huge pinkness of the gaping mouth, which reeked of rotting fish. This times however the jaws belonged to a croc, and not some super large dinosaur. He noticed just as the creature was about to slam its jaws down onto the boat pieces of rotting meat between its teeth. Its last meal, he thought. Before it could clamp down on the craft, he threw it into reverse and sped out of the way.

"Make a break for it", Jim yelled, as he accelerated towards the opening, which meant the relative safety of the ocean. The gargantuan beast rose out of the water in front of them at that moment, allowing Peter to be able to identify it.

"It's a Deinosuchus", he said, in amazement.

"It's bloody big, that's what it is", came Hans' input.

Jim struggled with the controls and once again reversed the fan so that they went backwards, out of harm's way.

Bruce stared in awe as the beast crashed down. The giant crocodile however, was blocking their exit.

"We'll have to lure it with something", he suggested.

"Like what?" came the frightened reply from Jo.

Before anything could do anything Bruce leapt into the water, and started swimming for the bank.

"Bruce, get out of there", shouted Jim, immediately offering him a hand. But Bruce kept swimming.

"Get out while you have a chance", he yelled over splashes, "I've seen these creature's in action before, they're all the same, I know how to outsmart them".

The Deinosuchus was now leaving the entrance, and the time for escape was then. Accelerating, Boris took his craft out of there, while Jim looked on in stunned horror. Bruce had reached the bank by now and could be seen to holding something in his right hand, a pistol. How is he going to defend himself with that?

"Get going", he said, "I'll be all right, you can get me after I've dealt with this bastard".

So Jim sped off to safety leaving Bruce behind to tackle the monster alone. He felt quite confident.

As the Deinosuchus came up to the riverbank it stopped, and stared at its target through a predator's gaze. It rumbled aggressively and hungrily from the depths of its throat. Man and beast stared at each other for a moment, and then the predator lurched forward.

There was a gunshot, which rang out through the night.

"Bruce!" yelled Jim. They all did. Calling his name. There was no answer.

They waited until dawn broke for him to appear but he never did. Sadly, they turned the craft out towards the sea and moved away from the island that had brought them such misery. Out into the rolling waves they went, until Sorna disappeared from the horizon.