It was the height of the night. The fire was dying down, and everyone had retreated to their respective life raft tents. Sleep was difficult but welcomed. They had waited well into the night for Mike to come back. By the time they all were sleeping, he was still gone.

Mike wasn't too far from the camp. He wandered in and out of trees until he heard a rushing noise. He walked closer to investigate. It was a waterfall. A waterfall! He wasn't good at judging sizes, but he figured it was maybe four hundred feet tall. The waterfall pooled in a bay that split into a few rivers.

Mike rushed over to the bay. He cupped his hands and brought the water to his lips. It was fresh. He thanked God. They were almost out of water at the camp, and without any sort of rain, they were going to dehydrate. This water source could potentially save their lives.

Mike wasn't sure exactly how to get back to camp, but he knew the general direction. One of the rivers was going in the direction he came from. He decided to gamble- take the risk. He started walking along the river.

He hoped it would take him back to the beach, but he hoped wrong. The river trailed off into nothing, leaving Mike unsure where he was. He decided to keep walking. As far as he knew, he was going the right direction.

After a little while of walking, the brush of the trees cleared out and Mike could see the beach. He rushed to the edge of the forest. When he burst through, he didn't see the make shift tents or the wrecked plane.

But he did see the fire.

A few football fields down the shoreline, Mike saw the dying fire. Everything else steadied into view- the plane, the tents, the stock piles. He ran towards it.

When he got back, he noticed everyone was sleeping. He wasn't sure exactly how long he had been gone. Not wanting to wake anyone, he lay near the smoldering fire. It would have to do. He was nearly asleep when a sound jolted him awake. Alert, he rose to his feet and listened. The sound was coming from the wrecked plane.

He stumbled over to the pile of miscellaneous objects and grabbed one of the flashlights. He approached the plane but kept his distance. Behind him, he heard everyone stirring.

So much for not waking them up.

"What is it?" Blaine exclaimed, appearing behind him. He followed Mike's eyes.

The group pooled around where Mike stood. They all stared at the fuselage. Inside, there were banging, dull thuds.

"Somebody's in there," Brittany said.

Finn, who had grabbed the other flashlight, stepped forward. He moved towards the opening of the wreckage.

"Finn?" Rachel exclaimed, stepping forward.

Mike follows Finn, adding his light to the beam. Rachel stomped behind Mike, determined to not let her boyfriend go in alone.

The three arrived at the opening and peered in. The banging was louder. It was apparent whatever that was in there didn't care that they knew it was there. Mike and Finn tried to collectively focus their lights on the noises. An inhuman grunt from inside stuns them for a brief second, but they pushed on their search.

The light steadied.

Something's head turned. It was feral. It was furious. And it snorted.

"Run!" Finn screamed.

His command was followed by a trail of shrieks. Finn, Rachel, and Mike barreled past the people who lingered, trying to push them away. Following the fleeing group came three small squealing beastlike bores. The bores split and ran in different paths.

Puck, still thrown off from what he had done a few hours later, grabbed a jagged piece of rummage to defend the girls on his side of the tents. Blaine reached for the hunting knife he had found earlier and hidden from the group and moved to stand in front of Kurt.

There weren't any of the creatures barreling in their direction, but one was heading towards Artie. Artie, who had been left alone and helpless on his chair.

"Stay here!" Blaine hissed at Kurt.

He ran in Artie's direction, the knife raised. In one swift move, Blaine threw the knife. It whizzed through the air. The sound the knife made when it hit the beast sent the other two running. The blow knocked the creature down, but it was still squealing. Blaire hurried over and retrieved the knife, then buried it a few more times in the fuzzy neck.

"What…" Puck trailed off, confused.

"Who are you?" Kurt breathed, his face scrunched as he looked at the bloody mess.

"You saved my life," Artie staggered.

Blaine let out a heavy sigh, "Lucky shot?"

"Where did you get that knife?" Finn questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"I found it in a bag. I didn't want to put it in the pile… just in case, you know?"

"And that?" Rachel asked with a frown as she pointed to the dead animal.

"When my dad was trying to get me to be more… manly… he took me hunting a few times. I picked up a few things, I guess."

"You obviously didn't pick up how to make a clean kill," Santana muttered.

Blaine shot her a nasty look, but said calmly, "We can eat this. Someone is going to have to… clear it out though."

"I volunteer Puck," Brittany said.

Puck frowned, "That's gross! No way."

"What about Mr. Medicine Man over there?" Santana seethed.

"I'll do it."

It was Artie. He looked up at the group from his airline chair.

"I'll do it," He repeated.

Finn fumbled over his words, "Artie, I uh, don't think that is possible."

"I have two hands. Just let me do something."

Blaine handed Artie the bloodied knife with an odd smile. Then, he picked Artie up and wiggled him a few feet over to the corpse of the boar.

Artie hesitated as he thrust the knife into the pig's abdomen. He drug it down the length of the belly.

"I can't watch this," Rachel said, covering her mouth with her hands. She turned and ran over to the water.

Finn followed her.

Artie had no idea what he was doing after he cut open the pig. Kurt handed him two of the Ziploc bags to place over his hands, for the innards… you know.

Artie questioned why he volunteered as he plunged his plastic baggy covered hands into the pig. He rummaged around the body cavity. Mike told him to try to feel around and make sure all the organs were severed, then to pull it all out at once.

"That knife isn't going to be able to cut the head off," Puck observed. He passed Artie the jagged piece of metal he was holding. "Try using this- like a hacksaw."

Though he wasn't doing it all completely on his own, having something to do made Artie feel like he was contributing. Up until that moment, he was a weak, helpless bag of nothing. And even though it was strenuous and difficult, he pressed on.

Everyone pooled their knowledge from TV, movies, and books on how to properly dismember and cook the animal.

Artie began to remove the hide with a knife, going in long vertical strips. Mike made sure to point out that he should be careful to not go too deep and cut the muscle. He removed the tissue around the multiple stab wounds Blaine inflicted. Puck filled one of the empty containers they had with water from the ocean, and cleaned the carcass once Artie was done fixing it up.

Brittany and Quinn fed the fire. Nobody knew how long the meat was good for. They were all starving, so they decided to cook it now. It would take a few hours, but if they slept in shifts, it would be ready by morning.

Noticing that Artie was tired, Puck caved and offered to cut the meat into strips for the fire.

"I found a waterfall," Mike brought up. "There is a bay maybe an hour back. There are streams or something. One of them trails off and leads you basically back to the beach."

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Kurt asked.

Mike shrugged, "I prioritized."

A vicious scream came from the direction of the makeshift infirmary. Mike looked at the group around the fire, ordering them to stay put, then ran in the direction of the scream's source. He dunked into the small hut. Rachel was lying over Mercedes' body, weeping. Finn stood a few feet away with his arms crossed.

"She's dead, man," He mumbled with a frown.

"What?" Mike's eyebrows shot up. "She should've had at least another two days."

Rachel sobbed, "We have to bury her. We have to bury all of them! I can't stand this."

"It's okay, Rach," Finn tried. "We'll bury them. Don't worry."

Mike was the grim reaper of the conversation. As much as he didn't want to say it, he had to.

"We can't dig without shovels. We have to… burn them."

"They're people!" Rachel said, horrified.

"I know they're people-"

"They deserve better than that," Finn cut off.

"Than what?" Mike defended. "Getting eaten by animals? Cause that's what will happen. If we bury them, they won't stay buried for long. Do you think I want to burn the body of the woman I wanted to marry? No! But she's gone… and in order for us to stay here, and stay here alive, we need to get rid of those damn bodies."

There was a moment of registration on Rachel and Finn's face.

"In the morning, we need to start collecting wood. I know we have a decent pile now, but we need more. And dried brush. Anything flammable we can use."

"What are you going to do? Just toss them into a fire?"

Mike shook his head, "The bodies… or most of them… are already in the fuselage. We are going it on fire. Maybe then somebody will see us."