Lisa had given up on openly defying Jackson, as it seemed to just make the rest of the camp turn against her. She decided that the best way to help get rescued would be to just keep feeding Jackson ideas that he would than implement and claim as his own. She didn't need glory, just to get home.
Early that morning, Jackson had allowed two teenaged boys to head off into the woods by themselves to go hunting, and dismissed Lisa's objection as a "female-driven, emotion-based" problem. She had resisted the urge to strangle him and simply kept track of the time, deciding that she would send someone after the boys if they weren't back in an hour. She spent most of the morning sorting through their food and rationing, and inspecting the fruit, nuts, and fish that various people had collected as food.
"So, Leese, anybody find anything good? 'Cause I could go for some real food right about now." She smacked his hand away as he went to dig through the piles she'd neatly organized, and considered ending her torment by having him test if things were poison by eating them. I can't do that, though, or we'll just have a complete breakdown. For some reason, people rely on him. "You know, in most cultures, one can beat a slave for hitting their master."
"Well than, it's a damn good thing we don't have a culture that allows slavery." She went to walk away, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back. Lisa struggled in his grip as he pulled her close.
"Now, what kind of southern girl are you? I could see you as a full-blown Scarlett O'Hara type, blushing little plantation owner's daughter, but with a bit of spark in you. Actually, it's quite an attractive idea." At this, Lisa wrenched away from him.
"Well, frankly my dear, I don't give a damn what you find attractive. I'm a little more focused on getting home. You may have noticed, but we are stuck on some island in the middle of nowhere."
"It's not too bad. I would say this tops hotel management any day." She looked at him like he'd grown an extra head.
"We have basically no food, no communication, shelter that looks like three year olds built it, and my official title is 'Personal Slave to the Unquestioned Leader.' That sounds so much better than having a real job in civilization."
"Well, Leese, there's room for promotion." She turned and cocked her head at him, curious, "I mean, the 'Bride of the Unquestioned Leader' position has yet to be filled. Could mean big changes for you." She glared at him, trying to think of some way to respond. Finally one came to her.
"How exactly would anything change? Does food magically appear in your hut?"
"Well, no. But the others would treat you differently. You may have noticed, but for some reason, they worship me. You could get some of that worship. And once the heir to the island is born-" She cut him off here.
"What?! We are not planning on staying here. Everybody except you wants to go home, so there is no need to be planning for heirs or whatever. We just need to focus on getting back to our old lives." She stormed off after saying this, not wanting to deal with whatever he would say in return. Some part of her brain thought that being queen of the island wouldn't be so bad, but all her logic crushed that thought, and she returned to fiddling with the radio from the plane. She had no idea how any of this worked, but as the only one interested in actually doing something, she was left with the task of establishing communication. The afternoon left her with no progress and a splitting headache.
By the time darkness fell, the shacks were habitable, and Lisa was led to one directly in the center of the camp by the newly formed housing committee. She ducked in, grateful for the chance to rest, and was horrified to find Jackson lying shirtless in the makeshift bed in the center of the room.
"What are you doing here?" She prayed he wouldn't try to do anything to her, as she doubted that anyone in the camp would rescue her from their beloved leader.
"Going to sleep, Leese. This is actually my dwelling, you are just being allowed to stay here as a personal favor. Now come on, this pile of blankets isn't going to warm itself up." She stared, dumbstruck, as he patted the stack of airline pillows beside him.
"Well, thanks for the favor, but I think I'd be better off in my own space." She went to leave, but he jumped up and caught hold of her arm.
"You're not going anywhere. I think we both know that. So come to bed, get some rest, and if you're a good girl, we'll see if anybody knows how to fix your beloved radio." He led her back to the bed, and noticed that she only removed her shoes before lying down. He pulled the blankets over them and slung an arm across her, taking an immense pleasure in her obvious panic at the situation. She's petrified- not really in a place to be plotting anything, so I can actually get some sleep. And sleep he did, although he'd been wrong about Lisa being unable to plot in her current state. She had wracked her brain for some way to defy him, and although her plan was not ingenious, it made her feel a little better. So when Jackson awoke the next morning, he found that he could not feel his dominant left arm, due to the circulation being cut off by Lisa, who had planted herself squarely on top of it after he'd fallen asleep. As he swore and shook his arm, she grinned slightly. Not exactly stopping him, but at least he knows that I'm not going to just submit to him. I hope he has the worst pins and needles of his life.