The stares of the students and teachers made David gulp. Everyone was gathered around the fountain, and he, standing on top of the front entrance stairs, was the center of attention and he didn't like that. David was a man of actions, not words. But with Wells gone, it was his responsibility to take over. Every ship needs a captain.

He cleared his throat. It was sandpaper dry. He was thirsty. Heavy beads of sweat were pouring from his brow, almost blinding him.

Damn, it's so hot in here!

"Everyone," he started. "I… I have an announcement to make. Obviously, you're all wondering what the heck is going on here, so I'd like to clarify… before I begin, I want to make it very clear that what I am going to say is not going to be easy to hear. It may even sound… outlandish, so to say. But remember, we're all on the same boat, and no matter how overwhelming or hopeless this situation may seem, if we stay calm and work together, we can make it through."

He paused to gauge the effect of his words. Pale, sweating faces. Wide, expecting stares. Total silence. Someone coughed in the crowd. He continued:

"The… animals that attacked me and some of your fellow students have been identified by Mrs Grant and her students."

He took a hesitant glance at the black woman, who was standing with Clay, Brooke and Warren at the foot of the stairs. The woman gave him an encouraging nod. He swallowed hard, and blurted it out:

"These animals are dinosaurs."

What followed could be best described as a rhapsody of gasps and yelps and chatter. Some were clasping their chests or their mouths in white-faced bewilderment. Some were crying. Some were hugging their friends in silence, some were discussing the news with utter disbelief. A few fainted.

David decided to make a pause to allow his audience to express all these emotions. A few bits of conversation came to his ears, a panel of the various opinions:

"This is crazy…"

"Impossible!"

"Dinosaurs? Seriously?"

"What the fuck?"

"Did we travel back in time or something?"

"Or probably a genetic experiment gone wrong, they tried to clone these things like in Jurassic Park and they broke loose…"

"That doesn't explain the frickin' jungle!"

Eventually, the ex-Marine raised his hands and called for silence. It took the crowd a few more minutes to comply and listen again.

"Of course you have a lot of questions about how this is possible, and so do I, but now is not the time for the whys and hows. We need to acknowledge the facts, and adapt to them so we can hopefully find our way back to the Arcadia Bay we know and love. The facts are as follows: we are not in Arcadia Bay anymore. Or should I say, the town is not here anymore, this place looks like the Bay as it was a very long time ago, and I repeat, no, I am not interested in how or why that is. Not yet. What we should focus on is that we're in hostile territory, with no sign of any other human presence and a dangerous wildlife. So we need to work together, as a unit, if we want to survive. From now on, I will be taking charge and ensure everyone's safety-"

"Hold on a second, David," someone interrupted him.

The person walked through the crowd to the front of the stairs to face him, and the chief of security recognized the photography teacher, Mark Jefferson.

"What is it, Mark?"

"Who exactly put you in charge? Where is Principal Wells?"

"Wells is… ill-disposed at the moment. And, being the most qualified to face a situation like this, I thought-"

"Thought you would just take over the school to run as you please?"

"Is there any problem you would like to talk about, Mark?" David asked, feeling slightly irritated by the teacher's challenging attitude.

"This arrangement just doesn't seem very democratic to me," Jefferson retorted, crossing his arms in defiance. "I'm sure you mean well, David, but I didn't join the Seattle protest of 1999 to surrender that easily to authoritarian figures taking over arbitrarily."

"Arbitrarily? Now hold on a second, Mark, do you really think now is time to play the 'bleeding-heart liberal' card on me? Take a good look around, this isn't a goddamn political protest, we're lost in the middle of the jungle, the first signs of civilization may be millions of years away from us for all we know! You want to have Wells in charge of this? Be my guest, go get him! He's in his office right now, sampling his collection of bourbon because apparently, that's the best way he knows to deal with a crisis situation!"

Jefferson opened his mouth, but David continued without letting him speak:

"Or maybe you feel you're better suited than I am to deal with this matter? If you feel you're qualified, you're most welcome, Mark! I'd be curious to know what kind of survival skills one learns in galleries and salons!"

His retort was met with laughter from various students and faculty members, which made Jefferson blush with fury. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, ready to take out his gun and shoot down this moustached asshole right here, right now, consequences be damned! How dare he make fun of him? How dare they all?

He took a breath, slowed down his heart, relaxed. No, you have to keep cool. Nobody will listen to you if you lose it.

Behind them, among the crowd, Chloe contemplated the scene with amusement. Okay, David was a real pain in the ass when he got all Step-Führer and shit, but at the same time, it was hilarious to see that hipster teacher get his big mouth shut. So that was Mark Jefferson? Rachel had kept pestering her about him for weeks before she… before she left… she hadn't met him before, but Rachel spoke so highly of him that Chloe had disliked him instantly. Yeah, jealous much, she knew.
She quickly grew bored of watching those two roosters bickering and let her eyes wander to the crowd. Victoria was holding hands with her minions, looking like she was about to piss in her pants. There was that girl who claimed to be Max's friend, Kate was that it? That girl was holding her cross necklace and her eyes were closed, her lips moving in silence. Probably praying, Chloe thought.

Max, you leave me to hang out with the altar kids? You disappoint me here. Although I got to admit, she seems nice enough.

Max… what the fuck happened to you?

No! She shook her head to chase those thoughts away. She couldn't go back to worrying about Max, if she did she'd wallow in her misery and be utterly useless, and Chloe Price wasn't a crybaby, for fuck's sake!

"Stay cool, Nathan… don't sweat it…"

Uh? Intrigued, she turned to the direction of the muttering and saw Nathan Prescott standing a little away from the crowd, not too far from her, rubbing his temples and muttering to himself. He hadn't noticed her. To be honest, he didn't look like he was in a condition to notice anyone or anything. Sure, a fair share of the people around looked like they were on the verge of a panic attack – and another fair share were crying their hearts out in full-blown panic – but he looked like he had withdrawn from reality entirely.

Crazy motherfucker.

In other circumstances, Chloe wouldn't go so low as to bully someone who clearly had mental health issues – a childhood spent taking care of Max's anxiety had taught her better – but this was Nathan Prescott after all. After what this asshole tried to do to her, he deserved no mercy.

"Don't think I haven't forgotten what we were supposed to meet up for," she whispered menacingly as she came to stand by his side. "No dinosaur's gonna save you from me, Prescunt."

Nathan jumped, turned to stare at her with empty eyes, like he was looking right through her, then eventually, his eyes focused on her and flared with a mix of dread and sheer hatred as he recognized her.

"I got nothing for you," he said.

"Wrong. You got hella cash."

"That's my family, not me."

"Oh, boohoo, poor little rich kid. I know you been pumpin' drugs 'n' shit to kids around here… I bet your respectable family would help me out if I went to them. Man, I can see the headlines when we come back to our world, or time or shit…"

"Leave them out of this, bitch."

"I can even start here and now. I can tell everybody Nathan Prescott is a punk ass who begs like a little girl and talks to himself-"

She shut up, finding herself suddenly unable to breathe, and stepped back in fright as Nathan suddenly turned around to face her, his eyes full of blind rage… and a semi-auto in his hand.

"You don't know who the fuck I am or who you're messing around with!"

There was a sharp yelp, coming from somewhere around them. "Gun!" it said. "He got a gun!" and the clamor quickly spread like wildfire, but Nathan didn't seem to be aware of his surroundings anymore.

"Where'd you get that?" the girl managed to let out. "What are you doing? Come on, put that thing down, dude, everyone's looking at us!"

Nathan froze, the rage in his eyes seemed to recede a little, giving way to hesitation. He took a swift look around: the other students and the staff had formed a large circle around them and were gawking at them, livid.

"Nate!" he heard Victoria squeal. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Vic?" he panted, his arm shaking. "I, uh… I…"

Suddenly, from the corner of his eyes, he spotted a blue figure creeping near and swiftly turned to aim at the intruder.

"Don't! You fucking! Move!" he shouted at Mackenzie, who froze on the spot like she was playing a game of Red Light, Green Light, her hands open wide.

"Nathan," a deep, male voice said softly behind him. "Nathan, look at me."

The boy turned around, cautiously, his gun shaking more and more, to face David.

"Mr Madsen?"

"Nathan," the man said slowly, reaching out an open hand in a gesture of appeasement, "I know how you must feel, you're terrified, so am I, so is everyone else. But pulling a gun on someone won't make things any better. Come on, son, calm down."

"I'm not your son!"

"Okay, okay. Nathan then, listen, Nathan, here's what we're gonna do: I'm gonna take a couple steps in your direction, okay? Then I'll take the gun, alright? I'll take the gun, and then I'm gonna walk you back to your room to rest. Do you have medication? Ms Hollister can come with you and help you take them. Does that sound good?"

Panting, Nathan lowered his gun. David took a cautious step forward, but the boy, as if stung by a bee, jolted and aimed at him again. The head of security froze.

"Lower that gun, Nathan," he said softly.

"Don't EVER tell me what to do!" the boy roared. Then, in a sudden frenzy, he started whirling like a dervish, flailing his gun around like a whip, shouting: "No-one, no-ONE tells me what to do! I'm so SICK of people trying to control me!"

And what had to happen did happen: the noise made his ears whistle and the shock sent a wave of pain along the boy's arm all the way to his shoulder as the gun went off, and he dropped it. Then his blood curdled as he heard, immediately after the shot, a scream of pain and terror. A girl's scream.

And all hell broke loose. Screaming on top of their lungs, the other students started running and flailing around chaotically, like cattle in a storm, completely ignoring the adults' desperate attempts at keeping a semblance of order. Some made it to makeshift hiding spots behind trees, benches or the fountain. Other tripped and fell in their panic and opted to stay down, covering their heads with their hands. And in the middle of it all, there stood Nathan and Chloe, motionless, flabbergasted. The boy felt tears coming to his eyes as reality came to hit him in the face with the force of a freight train at full speed. He'd fired. He didn't want to, it was an accident, but still he had done it, and someone got hurt. Who? He tried to find the victim through the commotion, and he felt his heart squeezed in a frozen vise when he saw Victoria, his best friend, lying down, bleeding, with a small concerned crowd gathering around her.

No, not Victoria!

God, what have I done?

So great was his dread that he actually felt relieved when he felt the embrace of two thick, muscular arms around his neck, squeezing tightly, darkening his vision and muting the wails of terror until, finally, came the sweet comfort of oblivion…

David released his chokehold once he felt Nathan's body go limp, then, after picking up the gun and ordering Mackenzie to hold the boy down and Williamson and Estevez to try and bring back order, he treaded his way through the crowd toward Chloe, who was still stiff as a pole, her face pale and her eyes wide open but not seeing.

"Chloe?" he asked.

No response. He gently shook her shoulder and asked again, and this time, the punk's eyes lit up, returning from whatever alternate universe they were in, and she turned her head to focus on her stepfather.

"Huh?" she asked.

"Chloe, are you okay?"

"What?"

"Are you okay? Do you know where you are and what happened?"

"Uh, school? Blackwell? In a weird Jurassic Park version of it, or was it just a hella weird weed dream?"

David shook his head: "No, it wasn't a dream."

"Oh. Okay. Why's everyone so panicky? Is there like, an active shooter or something? Thought I heard a shot."

David smirked in relief. Okay, she was definitely out of it, but at least she didn't look hurt. Might take a while before she fully returned to reality, in the meantime he decided he'd give her an edited version of the fact, to ease her transition:

"Yes, there was, but we stopped him. You have nothing to fear now, okay?"

"Um, okay."

"You should go to the infirmary, get some rest."

"Oh, no I'm good, I think I'm just gonna sit down somewhere if you don't mind."

"Alright, but take care. And if you need anything, ask me, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

Reluctantly, he left his stepdaughter. He hated to do that, but one of the students he was tasked to protect had a gunshot wound, and it was his duty to enquire as to her wellbeing. Amidst the chaos, a small group had gathered to kneel down around the victim. As he got closer, he recognized Ms Hollister and Kate, who were busy with their medikits, as well as Taylor and Courtney who were holding hands with Victoria, comforting her as she was wailing like a tortured soul out of Hell and throwing insults at her two medics. Kate and Ms Hollister had cut off one of her tights and Kate was busy cleaning the wound on her leg while the school nurse was preparing the gauze, something Victoria didn't seem to enjoy at all.

"Aouch!" she screamed. "Careful what you're doing, you're hurting me you retard!"

"Sorry Victoria," Kate moaned pitifully, blushing under the verbal assault. "I'm doing my best but it's alcohol, it's bound to sting a little…"

"Sting a little? It's burning like fuck! Stop using it!"

"But we have to clean the wound!"

"I said stop using it!"

"Okay," Ms Hollister snapped. "Kate, stop cleaning. If that's how you want it, Miss Chase, we'll stop torturing you. You're free to go. Do as you please, but when your wound gets infected – and trust me, in this weather, it's only a matter of time – we'll have no choice but to chop your leg off with a fire axe to keep you from rotting alive."

Victoria had stopped screaming and was staring at the nurse, her eyes bulging. She gulped. Loudly.

"And then we'll have to cauterize the wound with a red hot iron," David added. "To keep you from bleeding to death. I've seen this done on a soldier, in the Hindu Kush. A combat-hardened guy, had forearms like my thighs and could stay out in the blazing sun or the freezing cold for three days straight without sleeping or eating. But the way he screamed then when the iron touched his flesh… you'd never believe a man could scream like that. And don't get me started on the smell…"

Victoria remained dead silent. Her jaw started trembling, and she looked so pale one could almost see the skull through her skin.

"Now," Ms Hollister added with a hint of sadistic satisfaction in her voice. "What do you prefer, amputation or alcohol?"

"A-alcohol," Victoria stuttered faintly.

"Good girl. Now please shut up and let us work."

Then, upon noticing how ghastly Kate, Courtney and Taylor looked, the nurse softened and added: "Sorry, girls. Guess we went a little overboard."

"I-It's okay," Kate said before dutifully getting back to work, making sure to clean the wound really, really well.

"Mr Madsen?" Taylor asked. "Is this true? That story about the soldier?"

"Do you really want to know?" David answered.

"I, uh… I guess not."

David nodded then focused on Victoria's wounded leg.

"How bad is it?" he asked.

"Superficial," Ms Hollister announced. "The bullet just grazed the leg, she got really lucky."

"Lucky?" Victoria shouted. "If I were really lucky I wouldn't even get shot in the first place! If I were really lucky, my best friend wouldn't blow a fuse and… and…"

Tears began to flow freely down her cheeks as she fully realized what happened, and what could have happened.

"And fucking fire a gun at me!" she cried out. "Why did he do that, what happened to him? Like it wasn't already scare enough with that jungle and those… those things, why, why…"

"Victoria," David said softly but sternly as he grabbed her hand and squeezed it hard. "Victoria, look at me."

Trembling, the girl set her eyes on him.

"I know what you're going through," he said. "I've been through that. Getting shot is terrifying, and we never get used to it, believe me. You will need time to process it, it won't be easy, but rest assured you won't be alone. You're safe now, we're all here with you, and we will make sure you remain safe. Got it?"

Victoria swallowed back her tears and, panting, nodded with gratitude.

"Wh-what about him?" she asked.

David turned toward the young man, still being pinned down by Mackenzie.

"We'll have to lock him up somewhere for now, make sure he doesn't hurt anyone else or himself. Then… we'll see how it goes, I suppose."

Then, to Ms Hollister and Kate: "Are you finished?"

"Yes," the nurse said just as she finished wrapping. "I'll have to change the bandage tomorrow, but other than that there's nothing to worry about, she should heal by herself."

"Good." He turned to Courtney and Taylor: "You girls take her back to her room so she can rest."

Then he got up, went to give Mackenzie his instructions regarding Nathan, then looked around for Chloe. He spotted her, sitting on the steps of the main building entrance, smoking or at least attempting to with her trembling hands.

"How do you feel now?" he asked as he came to stand beside her.

"You mean, apart from the fact that the whole town disappeared and we're now living a fucking game of Dino Crisis, my best friend is in a coma and some rich asswipe just pulled a gun on me? Great, thanks for asking."

He sighed. Well, at least she was returning to normal. When Chloe got snarky, it was usually a sign she wasn't too bad.

"It will get better," he said while patting her shoulder. "We're working on that."

She scoffed: "Yeah, whatever."

He knew her well enough by now to know it was the best reaction he could get out of her, so he decided to leave her be for the time being. He climbed up the steps back to his position to address the crowd that was calming down thanks to the efforts of his deputies and the rest of the staff, and announced:

"Okay, everyone, the crisis is over! Fortunately, nobody got seriously hurt. Mr Prescott is being taken care of at the moment, so we can all move on and focus on the more immediate matter of our survival. I suggest-"

"Wait a minute, David," Jefferson called out, again, much to the chief of security's exasperation. "I don't remember us settling the matter of who's in charge before this incident. Or perhaps you believe that now you have the gun, your authority is undisputed?"

David sighed. O, how he would love to punch this aging hipster's smug face in! But he saw that Jefferson's tirade had earned him a number of approving nods. Which was to be expected. Jefferson was popular among the student body. Much more popular than he was, he whose sin was to try and enforce a minimum of discipline in this school. That was the problem with those PC schools, no respect for authority figures, they get challenged by the teachers themselves, right in front of the students!

But complaining about it wouldn't get him anywhere. He gauged the situation and quickly realized he had to play by their rules if he wanted to be respected. Without their respect, he'd never be able to shape them into a somewhat operational crew, it would descend into chaos very quickly, and there would be nothing left of Blackwell but an all-you-can-eat buffet for the next dinosaur to come their way.

"Alright," he conceded, "everyone! Let's have a vote to decide who should be in charge from now on! At the moment, your two candidates are Mr Jefferson, whom you all like for sure but who still hasn't shared with us his experience of survival in hostile territory, if any, and myself, fifteen years in the Marines including two prolonged deployments in Afghanistan. Now, is there anyone else?"

No-one manifested themselves.

"Good, so before we get down to voting, maybe Mr Jefferson would like to tell us more about his survival skills?"

All eyes set on the photography teacher who blushed with embarrassment, his eyes set on David, burning with rage. Seething, he swallowed back his feelings, closed his eyes and shook his head.

"That's what I thought," David said. "Now, all those who vote for me raise their hands!"

Jefferson jumped with astonishment as he saw Mrs Grant raise her hand.

"Michelle? But… you led that campaign against his cameras!"

The science teacher looked at him sheepishly and said: "Mark, I know I've often disagreed with him, but he's right, this is an extreme situation and he looks like he's the best qualified to lead us right now. I'm sorry, Mark, I promise I'm not rejecting you, I'm just doing the most sensible choice."

Fuming, Jefferson didn't answer and swiftly turned his back on her.

It took them a couple minutes to count all the hands and compare their numbers to make sure they agreed on them, but in the end, David had 114 votes.

"Now, all those who vote for Jefferson raise their hands!"

And Jefferson got 111 votes.

"Well, I'm sorry Mark," David said, "but it looks like democracy has spoken."

"Don't gloat too fast," Jefferson retorted.

"I'm not gloating!" David defended himself, while wondering what the hell was wrong with this guy. "I'm just stating a fact. I won by a very short margin, I agree, but I still won. Don't take it personally, this is not a popularity contest, as Michelle said, this is only about who's best suited for-"

"I meant, there are some who didn't vote yet!" Jefferson declared as he pointed at Kate.

All eyes set on the Christian girl who shrunk and started playing with her hands nervously.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled weakly. "I just didn't know who to vote for…"

"Kate, you have to vote," Jefferson said to her in a soothing voice as he stepped closer and put a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "This is for the common good."

"Bu-but I don't know… this is… this is too much…"

"Kate, come on, look, you've been my assistant so far and I know you are a smart, sensible young woman, so I'm confident you will make the right choice."

"You… you think so?"

"Of course I do," he said with a smile.

"Okay, then." She sighed, and then announced, a little more loudly: "Then I vote… Mr Madsen!"

"What?" Jefferson gasped in shock as he stepped back as though her shoulder was a live wire.

"I'm sorry, Mr Jefferson, I promise this is not about you! I really l-like you, and-and I enjoy being your assistant, but… what Mrs Grant said…"

"Yes, yes I know," he said. "He's the most qualified."

"Sorry, you're not mad at me, are you?"

"Of course not!" he said, but she could hear the irritation in his tone. He turned his back on her, and set his eyes on Chloe.

"You!" he called her. "You didn't vote either!"

"Well, duh! I'm not even a student here!" the punk snapped back.

"This doesn't matter," David told her. "You're stuck here with us, so it's only fair that you get to vote."

"Oh, okay. Then I abstain."

David sighed: "Chloe, I'd like you to take this thing seriously…"

"So fucking what? I thought it was my constitutional right not to vote if I don't feel like it!"

"Just because it's your right doesn't make it right, you should take your responsibility and-"

"Screw my responsibility! You want to force me to vote? Fine: I vote blank!"

And here she was being a brat again! Alright, David decided now wasn't the time to have an argument with her, for it could be very long and very draining, so he just raised his hands in the air and said:

"Fine, have it your way. It doesn't change anything anyway, I still win 115 to 111."

"Wait!" Jefferson protested. "Where are Victoria Chase, Taylor Christensen and their friend? Wagner, I believe?"

"Victoria's recovering in her room, and her friends are there to take care of her, why's that?"

"That means they didn't vote!"

"Mark, even if all three voted for you, I'd still win by one vote, so I don't see the point of disturbing Miss Chase with this! After what she's been through, she deserves to rest!"

Jefferson opened his mouth to protest, but seeing he was out of arguments, he decided not to insist and instead walked up the stairs, brushed past David in a rather passive-aggressive manner and, grumbling, disappeared inside the building.

Damn, David thought, this man really has ego problems. Whatever, there's no point worrying about him. In the end, I won by a very short margin, but I still won. Now I can take charge, and lead this bunch of unruly kids and clueless teachers out of whatever predicament we're in and back to civilization.

That shouldn't be too hard, right?

Damn, what did I just get myself into?