Chapter 2

Their first night had fallen, and a roaring fire, born from the emergency matches found on the plane wreckage, warmed the survivors in the cool evening wind. From what they could salvage, some managed to find bits of their luggage, and everybody wrapped themselves up with a sweater or other extra clothing. Even in the steaming tropical atmosphere, by night the temperature dropped down to below 15 degrees. Huddled around the flames, 18 teenagers shivered in wait for their 6 hunters to return. Annabelle was worried-had they not even made a day without losing people? But her concerns melted away as Jack, followed by his hunters, came sprinting out of the forest in unison.

"Finally!" she cried out at their return. "What took you guys so long?" The crowd stirred with noise as the hunters made themselves comfortable by the fire, plopping down on the beach in random spots where they could. Rosaline looked oddly pleased when their leader chose a spot near her.

"Did you guys find anything? Are there animals on the island?" Maurice questioned eagerly. He had wanted to join the hunting group earlier, but had missed the trip due to collecting water at the lake. He was sitting curled up next to Joelle, who twisted her damp hair in her fingers, waiting curiously for the hunters' reply.

Jack drew his hands, and his companions stopped speaking. Standing tall so everyone had their eyes on him, he announced,

"Pigs! Big, fat boars and their babies! The forest is full of them!" Gasps and whispers of delight ran throughout the crowd. There was nothing like good pork meat to satisfy the growling stomachs of these teenagers. So far, coconuts and bananas had been discovered in the forest, as well as a bush of berries, but fruits only went so far to fill them up. They had still been hungry, and now they were ravenous at the thought of lean, juicy meat.

"Alright, alright, everybody quiet!" Annabelle had to shout to calm them down again.

"How did you find them?" someone called from the circle.

A wicked grin spread across Jack's face as if he'd been anxiously waiting for this question. As the hunters' leader gleefully began speaking, Annabelle rolled her eyes. This was about to be a long story.

"Well, we were out in the jungle, deep in the middle of the forest. I thought I found these tracks, which had to belong to some big animal. All 6 of us were crouched low, hiding so we wouldn't scare it, when suddenly...

Cool dirt, a jagged surface brushed Jack's feet as he bent down to the ground. He shushed his hunters, gesturing for them to follow his movements. They did silently. Creeping up from behind a bush of tangled creeper vines, he peered out at the sight before him. It was a riverbank, running with pure water. The water must be pouring into the lake, he decided. And along the river, the creature, the fat, rounded boar, drank peacefully. Jack stared, concentrating on the pig's movements, its speed and agility as it travelled. It was slow, and seemingly dim-witted, too. It would be an easy kill. Continuing to drink, it did not notice the boy even when he accidentally rustled a leaf amongst the bushes. Only when it looked up, by complete chance, and stared straight back into Jack's eyes, did he inch away slowly. With whisper-yells of, "Pig! There's a pig on the island!" he led the others quickly in leaving the area. He couldn't frighten the pig away from the place, or he may never find it again. But, logically thinking, if there was one, there had to be more. This was proven to be correct as the hunters ran, dashing down the hills and between trees, until a group of more pigs had them skidding to a stop. Hazell gasped. As they examined the group, it appeared to be a mother sow and 4 of her children. The other one they saw could be their father, or maybe it wasn't related at all. That case meant more pigs. More pigs that they would be hunting for, bright and early tomorrow.

The sun had gone down. Darkness was creeping up in the between the trees along the outskirts of the forest. Retreating carefully, the 6 teenagers raced back to the beach in excitement, eager to deliver the news of what they had found...

Annabelle awoke on the cold, but comforting surface of her makeshift bed of grasses. Everyone had fallen asleep by the fire with such a bed, with proper shelters having yet to be built. A pile of big, banana leaves had been used as a pillow. Two tired eyes fluttering open, she shot up with a gasp. Had she been sleeping for too long? What time was it? Never before had she longed so much for a watch-she knew the key to survival in a remote place was keeping track of time and day. It gave you a sense of who you are, reminded you of it. Pulling herself off from the "bed", her eyes darted around. More than half of the people were awake, walking about and some doing their designated work. Jack was already dressed for his first real hunting expedition (if a pair of khaki shorts and a leather necklace was considered dressing.) A long, clean stick was in his left hand, a glinting knife in the other. He was sharpening the stick with it into a spear. Annabelle scrambled to her feet, being careful as to not trip over young Tessarose sleeping soundly next to her, and marched over to the boy.

"Where'd you get that knife?" she demanded.

"Ah, I see our chief's finally awake. Good morning to you, too."

"Good morning. Now, answer the question."

"Ouch, so cutting." He looked up at last from his finished work, smiling condescendingly at her. It almost infuriated her to see that idiotic, smug grin, plastered on his face. "If you have to know, I found it in what's left of the plane. Went rummaging there a little on my own after you lot fell asleep early."

"You went there in the dark? Alone?"

Jack laughed. "Why, worried about me?"

She glared. "I should be. You shouldn't just be going off on your own at night. It's dangerous."

"Relax, captain. I'm fine," he snickered, pocketing his knife after a final touch. Hazell, the only girl who had joined the hunting group, came along holding her own spear up threateningly. It was masterfully carved, but something about it looked as if it was made with rough hands. She eyed Annabelle watchfully, her lips curling up with disdain.

"Well, as long as no one's getting themselves hurt," she said with finality. With that, she turned on her heel, and made her way back to the fire. The hunters gathered slowly around their leader, including Austen and Maurice who had joined yesterday's crew. Most of the boys had discarded their shirts as well. Only Roger, the quiet one, kept his brown t-shirt on. Even then, he was the most noticeably muscular out of the lot.

"Come on, everybody, get ready to go!" she heard Jack call as the now black and flameless fire pit came into view. Annabelle frowned, then whirled her head towards the signal fire on top of the mountain, hit with realization-they had been so giddy and tired after their first day on the island, no one had been assigned to watch and rekindle either fire. They would have to light it again, and that meant using another match.

Groaning, she pulled the little white box out of her pocket. Most of the matches had been ruined by water, and now only three remained. They would have to be very careful. As she took one out and bent down by the pit, a few empty-handed people gathered around her.

"Do you need help with that?" asked Joelle. Caitlin, Tessarose, and Lucy were watching as well. Rosaline stood nearby, but only filed her nails after a few uninterested glances.

"No, it's okay, I've got it." Annabelle struck the match against the side of the paper box. A small spark appeared, but no flame. Frowning, she struck it again. Nothing. A third time, with a little too much strength. It snapped feebly in her fingers.

"Damn," she muttered under her breath. Taking out another one, she attempted and succeeded in lighting the match. But as she dropped it into the pile of wood, it shivered, and died out quickly. She wiped her sweaty hair out of her face, frustrated. That was their second one out of three.

"Here, let me try." Joelle took the box from her hands, striking the last match before she could object. A huge flame ignited from the tip on her first try. Startled, she yelped and cast it to the ground as the fire reached her fingers. The final match was out: it lay blackened and completely unusable in the dirt.

"Sorry!" She cried. An apologetic look on her face, she backed away from the pit shamefully.

Annabelle bit her lower lip, contemplating the situation worriedly. This meant they would have to make a fire by rubbing two sticks together. She only knew the basics of how it worked, but the method wasn't exactly clear in her head. Someone on the island had to know how to make a fire.

"I got it, I got it!" A voice called out from the circle of people now crowding around them. Lucy, who had been watching everything exasperatedly, came marching with her hand flailing in the air. She grabbed two sticks lying around on the dirt, and jammed one on top of another vertically on the pile of dry leaves. As she twisted the coarse, jagged wood furiously between her palms, splinters began poking into the skin and blood seeped out. But she didn't so much as wince.

Annabelle, however, grimaced anxiously. "Uh, Lucy, maybe you shouldn't…leave it to someone else…"

"I've got it, I've got it!" was all that came shouting hoarsely out of Lucy's mouth. She started to rub even harder. No flames appeared. After a couple of minutes, Annabelle couldn't handle it any longer.

"Jack!" she yelled, turning towards the hunters. They were prepared to leave, and had been on their way into the forest. The spear slung over his shoulder, he frowned in annoyance at her interruption. His companions stopped, and turned to see what was going on.

"What?" he shouted back.

"I need your help. Before you go hunting, just come here for a sec."

Jack wasn't pleased as he sprinted down the beach to her.

"What is it?"

"Do you know how to start a fire?"

"Sure, you rub two sticks together."

"Could you do it? We're out of matches." As she spoke, Lucy shouted, not looking up from her bleeding hands, "Stop! I can do it! I've got it!"

"Oh, shut it, retard! Get out of the way!" Jack yelled. She howled in protest as he shoved her roughly out of the way. Her hands, covered with open wounds, caught her fall. Annabelle could see the tears forming in her round, beady eyes as she whimpered.

"Jack!" She exclaimed in outrage. But no words of defense came out.

"I can do this!" Lucy cried, scrambling to her feet and trying to grab the stick from him. He merely pushed her aside again, with a snarl of, "Get out of my WAY, I said!" Everyone watched in uncomfortable silence as she crumpled to the ground. Only Hazell appeared to be laughing cruelly, though a small smirk cracked on Austen's face. Ruby merely raised an eyebrow from a distance, seemingly indifferent about the situation.

Jack, finally having a chance to create the fire, began rubbing the same way Lucy had. But he wasn't having much luck, either-he glared at the sticks as nothing happened. As the friction burned his palms as well, he hollered in pain, jolting away from the pit. Here, Lucy grabbed her chance and got back to her position in front of the fire. The other didn't argue this time, rubbing his wounds and swearing. A small flicker, then a great blaze of red burst out from under her fingers. It stayed this time, growing bigger and bigger with the help of the tinder.

She breathed a sigh of relief, as did everyone else, and wheeled to face Jack haughtily.

"What'd I tell you? See? I did it! I said I'd do it, and I did it!" But no one bothered to pay attention. The small crowd began walking away, as the fire had been made and the drama over. Annabelle uttered a quick thanks before going off as well, gathering bigger wood to enlarge the fire. Her expression of pride melted into a pout. "I knew I could do it! I knew it, because according to the 5 laws of friction, you have to rub the sticks a certain way! Jack was doing it wrong, he was going too fast! The laws of friction say that the coefficient of static friction is greater than the coefficient of kinetic friction!"

Jack didn't even retort, gathering up his spear and leaving for the forest. At the speed of light, Lucy was standing alone by the lonesome fire. Wiping at her eyes, she touched the open cuts and burns on her palms. All this pain and endurance for a lousy fire, and nobody even cared. As she ripped off a piece of her t-shirt to make bandages for her hands, Caitlin approached her quietly. An innocent, tender smile was on her face as she came and sat down next to her.

"I saw what you did," she said. "You were very brave. It must have hurt, to have your hands burned like that." Her silvery hair fluttered around her face from the wind.

"Nah," Lucy answered as brightly as she could. She could not stop, however, the tears that welled in her eyes. "It wasn't that bad. And…thanks. At least somebody noticed." She didn't object as Caitlin took the simulated bandages and wrapped her wounds up, as if they had known each other for years.

"My name's Caitlin," she said as she worked.

"I'm Lucy." She lifted her lips up to a small grin, something that hadn't been seen on her since she'd arrived on the island. Their eyes twinkled as they shook hands, each observing the other curiously and intently.

"So…" Caitlin said, smiling kindly herself. "What are the 5 laws of friction?"

Lucy grinned even wider.

"Joelle!" Calling her name with enthusiasm, Maurice ran doggedly down to the girl.

She sat on a log, chin leaning on one hand, as she watched the horizon dreamily.

"Hey! Joelle! Hey, what've you been doing?" Her head lifted as he plopped down next to her. Smiling softly, she replied,

"Nothing, really. Just looking at the water-it's so pretty, isn't it?" She blinked; her smile suddenly turned sad. "It really is beautiful. The ocean. Everything's pretty here. And besides, I wouldn't want to get in the way anymore. So this is what I should be doing." Her words were spoken calmly, with tranquility and peace, but Maurice could hear her swallowing back something.

"What do you mean, get in the way?"

"You were there. Remember, I ruined the last match?"

"You were only trying to help," he tried, putting his hand gently on her arm. He felt a tingle of nervousness as he slowly stroked it, consoling her.

"Well, maybe I shouldn't try so hard. Thanks, anyways, though." A pair of brown eyes stared up longingly. Gulping, he tried not to inch away as the nerves increased. Instead, Maurice wrapped his arm around her warmly. The two teenagers sat, a bit awkwardly but nevertheless in comfort, as they gazed out at the horizon together. Joelle's head slowly lowered onto his shoulder.

A snicker from behind them caused them to break apart, spinning to look around. Austen walked by, giving them a wolf-whistle. Maurice blushed.

They were interrupted again by a ringing, sugary sweet voice. "Maurice!" a blonde girl chirped rather annoyingly. It was a bright-eyed Rosaline, her features seeming extra attractive as she waved at the boy.

But he only called back a "What?", distracted by the girl around his arm. He rolled his eyes as Rosaline continued to shout his name, and stood up. Frowning, he said, "I'll be right back," and walked away from the log grudgingly. That girl had been flirting with Jack non-stop since they got here, trying to get his attention, and now she was trying for Maurice, too? He could see the spiteful look on her pretty, but cold face as she watched him reluctantly leave Joelle.

Even as they pulled apart, he turned to wink at her; she sniggered in response. Walking away, his heart fluttered a little, hopeful thoughts forming in his head. Thoughts, he deemed, that would probably keep him up all night.

Closing her eyes, Joelle pictured a paradise. In that paradise, she lay on a beach recliner, pure white sand all around her. She could feel everything, hear everything: from the slow, scorching of the sun above, to the ocean, waves tumbling back and forth in aquamarine water. A perfect place. A haven for her head filled with distracting thoughts. Here she could put those thoughts down and just lie, relax freely beneath cloudless skies and noiseless ambience.

She opened her eyes. The paradise was still half-there. The sun was setting, unlike in her imagination, but this island was as good as anything she could think of. Joelle had always used her creativity to her advantage, and this was a method her old therapist had taught her.

Feeling the cool, twilight breeze creep up her arms, prickling each hair to stand as they extended out towards the sea. It swept up into her face, blowing her ragged, unwashed locks away. She could live like this forever. Live in the moment, in peace and calm, forever and ever. The way she never got a chance to as a child. The secret. The dark, gut-wrenching secret in her past that had cast a black cloud over her life for so many years. But all the misery, all the pain was finished now. Joelle knew as soon as she was off this island, she could truly live in peace.

Sounds of Maurice rushing back towards her, his feet tapping against the grains of sand, warned her to return to the current moment. Looking up, she couldn't help but smile at his warm, friendly face as he jogged unevenly across the shore. But can he be trusted? Was he really a friend, or does he just want something more from me? She hated the thought that he could possibly be like any other guy. Like the men she had known all her life. Joelle had a fairly good judgment of people, and she felt like there was something different about Maurice. I'll have to see, she thought while the boy approached closer and closer. I'll just have to wait until he proves that he can be trusted. Even as friendly and goodhearted she found him, she couldn't take any chances. Not after everything she had been through. The nightmares, the cold-sweated horrors had gone away. She wasn't about to risk it all returning to her by making a mistake.

"Hey," she said, warmly, but with open eyes as Maurice took a seat next to her.

The rustle in the bushes startled Annabelle, awaking her to her senses. She whirled around from the feeble hut she was working on to see Jack, emerging from the trees.

"Do you have to scare me like that?" she asked, annoyed.

"Wasn't trying to." He sneered as he crawled into full view. His shorts had a small rip on the side, and his hair was matted and tangled with leaves. Clods of dirt caked the creases in his abs, decorating his chest artfully.

"Looks like you've been having fun." She returned to her building, stacking a branch upon another with care.

Jack snorted. "Yeah. Fun. I can't even find the stupid pigs anymore." He rubbed his nose, frowning. "Do you have any water?"

"Sure, over there in the bottle." Grabbing the bottle, he drank, gulping down water like an animal.

"That's better," he said with a gasp. "God, I was dying of thirst out there."

"I would've thought you caught something, after all that bragging yesterday," Annabelle commented nonchalantly.

"Oh, like you could catch a pig." Jack snapped. "Seriously, Annabelle, all you've been doing is making these shelters. You have no idea how hard hunting is. Especially when you don't have enough energy from eating proper foods. Like MEAT."

"Sure," she replied sarcastically. "And I suppose we need to make a three-course meal, and find some desert, too?" A low grunt came from his lips. Raising one eyebrow pitifully, she continued, "I'm serious, too. It's not just food that matters on this island. What's really important is getting out of here. Who's going to see us if we don't keep the signal fire going all the time? How are all 24 of us going to get rescued, and still survive until then? Do you realize how difficult that's going to be?" Before Jack could argue back, a small figure burst from the forest and tumbled onto the beach. Sébastien, his bare arms cut and bloody, ran screaming towards the two. Everyone stared in bewilderment as he collapsed to the ground at their feet, and cried out, in a strangled voice, "Monster! There's a monster in the forest!"