Author's note - thanks for the review about Rodney, it's actually inspired me so I hope everyone enjoys the next chapter
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Nathan lifted the machete and brought it down on Jackson's chains. Jackson flinched back but the sparks died before they reached him. The plan had worked and the branch had snapped but Jackson was still chained. Nathan had layed his chains across a large rock but they still couldn't break them.
Nathan lifted the machete again and brought it down hard. "The blade's too dull," Daley said, pacing. "What are we gonna do?" Daley asked.
"Guys, it's fine," Jackson said, rising to his feet. The chains felt heavy. "We don't have time. Beaver's still out there."
"And Taylor and Eric, Jackson," Daley reminded him. Jackson nodded. Sure, Taylor and Eric could be an annoyance but there was already a relationship between these gangsters and Beaver. If anybody was to get hurt, it would be Beaver. And if there was anybody who didn't know when to shut up - it was Beaver.
"Here," Melissa said, handing a bottle to Jackson.
Jackson stared at the bottle. "What is this?"
"It's lotion," Melissa answered. "It'll irritate your cuts but the itching will subside."
"Thanks, Melissa," Jackson murmured. "How'd you know about this?"
"I'm allergic to nickle," Melissa answered. "It's the stuff that makes up most jewlery and belt buckles and buttons. When I get irritated I use it."
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A shot echoed around the beach, despite the lack of walls. Beave ducked down and Eric and Taylor both flinched back. But when they looked up they realized that Carl had not fired the gun and Beaver was not dead.
Beaver looked behind him at Carl's newly dead corpse and over at Taylor and Eric. Behind them several feet stood a figure he recognized too well. "What the..." Eric began but Beaver was already on his feet. Eric and Taylor followed his gaze.
"I am so confused," Taylor mumbled.
"Yeah," Eric agreed. Rodney had approached them. "Dude, are you a good guy or a bad guy, seriously?"
"What do you want?" Beaver demanded, approaching the trio.
"The only thing I came here for, Cassidy," Rodney murmured. "My money." He pointed straight ahead at the boat. "And my boat."
"Where's Jackson?" Taylor asked. "Where's everybody else?"
Rodney shrugged. "I left him chained to a tree. Is this your way of thanks, Beeve?" Rodney asked.
Beaver cocked an eyebrow. "Yes," he answered indignantly. "Jackson's allergic to iron, Rodney. You know that. Do you know what will happen if he's chained for too long?" Beaver answered before Rodney could. "You do."
And Rodney did know. Their father had been quite the fan of restraints. And Jackson was the perfect victim, young and helpless - still capable of feeling. It didn't help that their father knew of jackson's allergies. Once he just forgot about Jackson and fell asleep. The next day when everyone had woken up, Jackson was unconscious, on the brink of death, the doctor had said. His wrist were red for weeks after this incident. If Jackson stayed in those cuffs for too long he'd be too far gone for the barbarian medical help they had on the island. Jackson's life was once again in Rodney's hands.
"I don't care," Rodney said quietly. "By the time he passes out, I'll be long gone."
"Really?" Beaver asked sarcastically. "It's gonna be real hard escaping from yourself. Everytime you wake and look in that dingy mirror of yours, it'll still be you that you see."
"You can prevent that," Taylor said. "Just go find Jackson and unhandcuff him. Do some good."
"I don't need to do any good," Rodney snapped.
"If you didn't you wouldn't have shot Carl," Beaver said.
"Carl was a traitor," Rodney said loudly. A thin smile paused briefly on Beaver's face. "You're not off the hook, Cassidy Casablancas," Rodney said. (Yes, I changed Beaver's name. It's been a long day of veronica mars marathons and I feel bad at how Beaver died so i wanted to envision him as a good guy once more). Rodney cocked his gun. "You haven't been shot yet, have you, Beeve?" Rodney asked, training the gun on Beaver once more.
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"Careful," Melissa murmured softly, steadying Jackson after he tripped for the tenth time. He'd never been so annoyed before. Jackson paused, wiping the beads of sweat from his brow before continuing.
It wasn't too far before the team stumbled out of the woods and into the clearing that had been their beach for so long. Jackson searched up and down the shore. Squinting, Nathan pointed. "There they are." Melissa raised an eyebrow but Jackson was already sprinting down the beah toward the tiny figures.
"Rodney!" Jackson shouted as he neared the group. Rodney lifted the gun, forcing Jackson to a stop. "I need the key," Jackson murmured, lifting his shackles.
"What in that big head of yours would make you think that I'd ever give you the key?" Rodney asked.
"You didn't kill me back there and you can't kill me now," Jackson told Rodney quietly, closing the distances between them. "Just give me the key."
Rodney fished through his pockets and pulled out the key, he tossed it to Jackson who quickly unshackled himself and tossed the chains to the side. "Where's your crew?" Nathan asked as the team reached Jackson.
"What crew?" Rodney asked. "Oh, the one that stole my money." He threw a glare at Jackson. "If there is a god, they all died some horrible death. If there isn't - they're probably closing the distance between themselves and us real quickly so if you want to escape this island then we best be leaving."
It didn't take the team long to decide, as one - with Eric in the lead - they took off toward the boat, Jackson and Beaver following behind the group. "You okay?" Beaver asked, eyeing Jackson.
"No," Jackson murmured. "We're going home. Where ever that is."