Sorry for the wait. When I'm not writing I'm either working or tired, but I'm still determined to finish this.

After an hour of cramping, the trunk opened, revealing the endless ocean reflecting the gleaming moon. Eliza wore herself out trying to work her way out of the ropes, but the knots were like steel. She tried willing her claws to emerge, but as usual, they abandoned her in the worst time possible. Arnold flung over his shoulder and tossed her to Wallace in the boat like a sack of potatoes.

"It'll be a few hours before we reach Skull Island," said Covington. "I suggest we rotate sleeping and driving."

"Don't forget watching this shrimp," added Arnold.

"Very well," Covington yawned. "I shall leave you two to work."

"Oh no you don't!" Wallace glared. "You stuck er with us, you watch er first."

"Me? You were the one who-" Covington broke off at the sound of knuckles cracking behind him.

Arnold towered behind him, giving a look that seemed to say 'I dare you.'

"Very well," Covington said again. "I shall do my part." He sat by his bundled captive.

The girl's eyes glared over the gag. Covington was to use to angry child stares since he had spent so much time around that little squirt Molly. But this was different. How could so much menace resonate off a twelve-year old?

"Don't give me that look?" he growled. "You shouldn't have gotten involved."

If it wasn't for the gag, Eliza had a retort for whose fault it really was, including language she had heard adults use but wasn't allowed herself. Eliza gave up on her claws since they never worked when she needed them most. When Covington looked out over sea, Eliza tried to pry her hands apart, but that only tightened the bonds. She worked her fingers around the knots, hoping to find a stray to separate them, but it was like feeling around a pebble.

Her attempt didn't go unnoticed by Covington. "Don't try anything funny, little girl." He curled his fingers in a predatory manner, protruding long, black claws.

Eliza stiffened.

"Are you going to behave?" sneered Covington.

Eliza nodded. Not like she was getting anywhere anyway. That left only one option, and she was certain it wouldn't work. But what else could she do? She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and released. To the thieves, it looked like she was falling asleep.

"Listen to your body," Khan had told her.

Well, she didn't have anything else to listen to. Except the three villains, and she wanted to forget they were even there. Back in the office, it was harder to focus on her practice when she would rather be reading, feeding the plants with her uncle, or playing with her friends. For now, she had a different goal: to survive.

Come to think of it, he had called it an she first activated her claws, anger was the trigger.

Now might be a really good time to get angry.

Right now, her anger was secondary to a different emotion. She took another breath, slowly released, and relaxed her whole body. She repeated ten times before her muscles tensed.

I'm afraid.

Admitting it summoned a trickle of tears. She had always put on a brave face. From when her mother died, to her father always working. Even in the care of her foreboding uncle or the clutches of the dread pirate Don Karnage. She often wondered if grown-ups were ever afraid of anything. Her parents always managed to smile no matter how hard things were. Her uncle? He was probably immune to fear. Part of her envied him for that.

Eliza took another breath and slowly released. And again. And again. As her muscles relaxed, a tingling sensation was left behind. She was in control. The process went on the same time as the journey did. As the seconds turned into hours, the tingling spread through her body, until it reached her fingertips. Eliza's concentration almost broke from excitement, but she continued breathing. She wasn't there yet. She had to keep listening.

"Skull Island's just a mile away," said Arnold.

By this point, Eliza had blocked out the waves, the motor, and the men. Hearing them talk again broke her out of her trance.

"No one would dare fish in these waters," said Covington. "So, we won't have to worry about a trawler finding her."

An image came to Eliza's mind. An image in which her corpse tangled in a net, as cold as the millions of fish tangled with her. Her stomach twisted.

A faint shing sounded at her fingertips.

Eliza gasped through the gag. At the same time, a heavy pair of hands grasped under her arms. Another at her feet. Eliza didn't struggle but drew a long breath through her nose moments before plunging into the icy foam.