Chapter Eight

Greg rested on his bed, Sara kneeling over him as a doctor would their patient. Ecklie sat at the front of the cave, his eyes drooping and his mouth set in a thin line. Matt was sleeping once more, Ecklie's jacket tucked around him. Catherine had taken Lauren outside to go the bathroom, throwing Sara an opportunity she was perfectly happy to take. And now she sat here, trying to talk Greg into letting her look at his injury.

"I'm hungry."

"No you're not. You just ate."

"I'm thirsty."

"Give it up, Greg."

"Why is this such a big deal anyway?"

"Because your arm could easily be infected and then we'd have to have it cut off."

"Cut it off?"

The stared at each other for a moment, both close to laughter, then dropped the prospect.

"Do you want to take the bandage off yourself?" Sara asked, gesturing at the bloody, mud-caked t-shirt.

Greg sat up and tugged at the knot with his left hand. After a few minutes of fighting with it Greg dropped his shoulders and gave Sara an almost pouting look. He set his hands in his lap, twiddled his thumbs for a couple seconds and then held out his injured arm for Sara.

She took the knot within her fingers and gently tugged at it until the shirt's sleeves were free. They shared a quick glance and Sara parted the bandage. Once apart, the two shared another gaping look.

The arm bore a thin, slightly swollen, slice heading from about two inches from Greg's wrist and leading to his elbow. Crusted blood lined the cut and yellowish pus oozed out from the injury.

"Uhh…what were you saying about cutting my arm off Sara?" Greg questioned, his expression innocent and troubled. He stared at the wound, mouth open.

Sara, whose jaw had dropped, closed her mouth and slowly shook her head. She set the bandage on the stone floor and brought the back of her right hand to Greg's forehead. It was peculiarly warm.

"Damnit, Greg! We should have looked at this sooner!"

"How do you think I feel? I might have to get my arm cut off!"

Sara's lips pursed.

"I was kidding about that and you know it. This is no time for your little jokes. This is serious!"

"I know that! Look, it's my arm!"

Sara ignored him. She reached over for a leftover coconut shell and went and dipped it into the pool of water two feet from Greg's head.

"Hold this," she commanded, thrusting the cup of water into Greg's left hand. He hung to it like he was asked as Sara unbuttoned the bottom button on her blouse. She dug her nails into the threads on the underside and tugged at it, trying to rip of a strip of cloth.

"Greg how many women have you slept with?" Sara asked flatly, her face straight, hands bent on ripping her shirt.

Greg raised an eyebrow.

"Why, are you interested?"

"What did I tell you about joking around?" She threw her work down and her face snapped to his.

"Sorry." He shrunk back.

Sara sighed through her nose and returned to her shirt. After a minute she said quietly, "I need to know if there's a possibility of me getting something like AIDS…"

"Oh. Don't worry, I get checked after every one-night-stand."

"Good."

"What about you and that boar bite?"

"It's not a bite; it attacked me with its tusks. Besides…if you had to worry about the blood soaking my jeans you might have had me in bed by now."

"Uh-huh…is this some creepy second-hand-virginity thing?"

"Drop it."

Finally, the worn piece of fabric tore from the rest of Sara's shirt. She took the water from Greg and dipped the cloth into it, wrung it out, and began to dab at the injury.

"When was your last tetanus shot?"

"I'm up to date. Trust me; I'm not one of those guys who put of going to the doctor."

Sara stared at him in mid-wipe.

"What?"

"Nothing." She looked away, slowly shaking her head and continuing to clean the cut.

They were silent for a little while before Sara spoke up again; voicing a question she had been yearning to ask for a long time.

"Greg…why are you so different?"

Greg looked confused, "What do you mean?"

"On this island. You're back to giving wise-crack comments and joking about everything. Even before the island, when we were on the plane, in the car on the way to the airport, on the actual airplane," She looked him in the eye. "I was wondering…it's just...nice…to have the old Greg back for awhile."

A look of realization appeared on Greg's face and he pressed his lips together looking away.

"The old Greg, huh? The one with freaky hair? The one who goofed off in the DNA lab, blasting rock n' roll over the radio? The one who smuggled Victoria Secrets magazines in past Eck—whoops."

Sara smirked and nodded.

"And who would the new Greg be, per say?" he asked her.

She thought for a moment, moving her gaze to Ecklie who had not reacted to Greg's comment about the magazines, and who could even possibly be sleeping while sitting.

"Well…no more t-shirts…suits…flat hair. No more jokes or annoying riddles, strictly business, quiet. I can't stand it when you're quiet. It makes me nervous."

Greg seemed to ponder that for a moment then he shrugged.

"I guess it all just has to do with stress. When I was a lab rat I knew exactly what I was doing and didn't need to worry too much about messing up big-time.

"We're back!"

Greg and Sara looked to the cave entrance to see Catherine standing there, Lauren holding onto her hand.

Greg and Sara mumbled greetings as Catherine wrung out herself and Lauren.

"Lauren needed a bit of coaxing to use a tree for a toilet, isn't that right?" Lauren buried her face into Catherine's side. "Look…uhh…I'm going to try and get a bit more sleep. The rain actually looks like it might let up soon."

"Good. Then we can get a bonfire going…the sooner we're found the better." Sara said, re-dipping the rag into the water and rubbing off the last of the pus, though it remained red and puffy.

Catherine headed over to her pile of leaves, laid down on her stomach, her head facing Sara and Greg. She placed it on her hands and crossed her legs, swinging them like a teenage girl at a sleepover.

"Who am I kidding; I'm too anxious to sleep. What with that pig out there."

"Boar," Sara corrected.

"Whatever."

Lauren, who had been watching her brother, walked over to the group and watched them instead.

"Are you playing doctor?" she asked, an eyebrow cocked and appearing to ponder Sara.

"No. Greg got hurt."

"Are you the doctor?"

"Yes, Sara is the doctor and Greg is the patient." Catherine offered.

"But Sara has an owie too." Lauren pointed out, literally.

"Yes she does." Greg said, "But she's too stubborn to get it taken care of right away."

This was responded to on Sara's part with a quiet cough and clearing of her throat.

"What now?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"You're doing it again."

Sara shrugged then changed the subject. "We should put a new bandage on it to keep dirt out, but I'm worried that we'll just be putting direct bacteria on it. Leave it bare for tonight to let it air out and scab over."

"And what about your 'owie'?"

Sara shifted so that she wasn't sitting on her left leg. She lifted up her pant leg and the three of them looked at the gash. It wasn't very deep, but it had broken the skin, leaving a purple rim around the two or three inch gash. Blood still leaked slowly from it.

"It's not that bad actually…it just hurts like hell…"

Catherine threw her a warning glance then pointed her eyes at Lauren, who had taken no notice of Sara's language.

"We can leave it for now, don't you think?" Sara said, looking up at the others. They nodded in response. Then Lauren yawned. She crawled over to Greg and sat in his lap, yawning again.

"I want a story…" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

Catherine stood up and reached out for her, lifting her up by her underarms. Lauren wrapped her arms around Catherine's neck. Catherine set her down next to Matthew's sleeping form, tucking more of Ecklie's jacket around her. She began to whisper a story about a princess and dragons and her dog that saved the day.

Sara suddenly realized that she was exhausted. Her eyes were burning and the beginnings of a yawn lingered at the back of her throat. Ecklie had awakened her after only fifteen minutes of light sleep.

Sara spoke to Greg softly, vaguely listening to Catherine who explained how Princess Lauren's dog saved her from the dragon, "I'm going to go to sleep, all right?"

Greg nodded, turning over onto his left side and closing his eyes. Sara walked over to her bed and lay down. She stared at the fire, barely more than a bed of burning coals and ashes. She reached over and tossed some wood in, then just as Catherine reached the part where Princess Lauren lived happily ever after, Sara fell asleep.

Sara woke up to silence. She opened her eyes and noted that the fire was once again reduced to glowing embers. It wasn't making any noise and Sara threw on another piece of wood and some more dry leaves. But the silence was more than just an almost dead fire. The rain had slowed considerably.

Sara brushed hair out of her face and looked at the entrance of the cave. She could see out of it. The sky was a light gray outside, through the trees, as if the sun was trying to poke out. The waterfall above the entrance of the cavern was gone. It was drizzling outside, and the distant echoes of thunder were barely heard. Seabirds called out in the silence, rejoicing in the farewell of a storm.

Sara rubbed her eyes. Something still didn't feel right. Remembering last time something felt wrong, Sara took a quick scan around the cave to make sure everyone was accounted for. Greg was dozing, as were Matt, Lauren, Ecklie, and Catherine. Everybody was here. So why did she feel uneasy?

She pulled up her pant leg and looked at her injury. It appeared fine. She should wash it, but it looked uninfected. Thinking hard about what could be bothering her, Sara trusted her senses. She hadn't seen anything wrong, except for the dwindling fire, which she had fixed. Was she perhaps going paranoid? Then she heard another noise, the noise of shuffling feet outside the cave. Sara held her breath. Not this again. She kept quiet, listening hard.

More rustling, and then a flat burrowing nose, framed by two ivory tusks showed at the edge of the cave, digging into the mud and uprooting fallen leaves.

"Oh crap…" Sara said under her breath, eyeing the pig as it walked slowly through the mud, excavating with its snout. She reached around her; looking for a rock should she need it to defend herself. Should she try and get it away from the cave and away from everybody else? Or should she leave it to its business? If she aggravated it, it might charge her again and that was what she least wanted. She couldn't find a weapon.

"Sawa?" Lauren was awake. She sat up, the jacket slipping from her shoulders. "Sawa, what's 'cwap'?"

"Lauren, come here, please? Very slowly, okay?"

The little girl looked confused, tilting her head to one side.

"Lauren, come here."

"Why?"

"Because, I told you so."

Lauren stretched her tiny arms and yawned, then stood up, stretched again and yawned a second time. Sara, her arm outstretched, glanced at the boar outside, who didn't seem to have noticed them. It continued shoveling mud.

"What are you looking at Sawa?" Lauren asked, turning to follow Sara's gaze. She caught sight of the boar and swiveled to face it. "Ooh! Look at the piggy Sawa! Auntie Diana likes piggies!" Lauren screeched loudly, pointing at the boar.

Sara clenched her eyes shut, wishing that the pig continued to mind its own business, before she opened them a second later. The boar perked its head up at Lauren's cry and waved its head around, looking for the source of the noise. Its eyes settled on the cave entrance. Saradashed forwardfor Lauren who was standing in the path of the boar and pulled her away, just as the boar bobbed its head up and down threateningly, turning to face them.

The next moments went by far too quickly. A massive bang was heard as the pig squealed, preparing to charge at the two. Sara blinked as Lauren screamed, covering her ears. Ecklie, Catherine, Matt, and Greg jumped awake, but Sara just stood there, staring.

The wild boar was dead, splayed in the mud, blood flowing from a fresh bullet wound in its neck.