Chapter 47

Epilogue

Metal scraped against metal as the smouldering wreckage shifted sideways. From beneath it, a heavy groan sounded. Slowly, painfully, the man heaved his battered body out of its prison. Little by little, Taylor dragged himself free.

By the time he was clear of the burnt, twisted iron that had held him captive, there was little strength left with which to analyse his surroundings. He groaned dully as he rolled over, leaning his aching muscles against a chunk of wall that had managed to remain upright. Around him lay the charcoal signatures of recent fires. On either side of his scraggly torso, his arms were scratched and bleeding, throbbing dully in time to .. what?

He frowned, soot-stained eyebrows lowering over the sharp blue eyes. His scattered memory felt as though it had been put through a blender, full of hazy images of disjointed events that he didn't quite recognise. He squinted into space as he tried to focus. Gradually, the pieces began to come back together.

There had been fighting, then a brilliant light, followed by an explosion so vast, it had seemed to swallow the entire world. At some indistinct point in time earlier, he knew his head had been ringing with the sounds of screaming and sirens blaring, but now, all was silent.

Well, almost silent.

His ears twinged in annoyance as they registered an infrequent metallic banging reverberating from nearby. Looking around, he spied the culprits. There were a couple of severed, still-flailing squid limbs wedged half under the rubble. The flicker of amusement in his mind was so faint, he might have imagined it.

He continued his weary survey.

A red smoke had replaced the atmosphere, obscuring anything that lay more than a few meters away from view. He could hear the water lapping now, a constant friendly echo amid the jarring clangs. The shoreline couldn't be too far from where he sat, draped carelessly over an uneven armchair of broken shards.

All around him lay destruction.

These were the ruins of Simon's base. It had only been a few minutes – or so it seemed – since he had been standing inside of it.

How had he lived through the blast?

Had he lived through the blast?

Before he could decide on an answer to this last question, a third set of sounds distinguished themselves from the rest. Muted by the thick fog, the rhythmic crunch of footsteps was drawing toward him. By the time the owner of the noise came into view, he thought he had anticipated their arrival. Nevertheless, he started as a figure appeared through the rusty mirage surrounding him.

"Who-"

The words cut into his dry throat like he had unintentionally swallowed a tiny hacksaw. As he gasped for breath amidst the hoarse coughs that racked his burning chest, the woman paused sympathetically beside him. Then, as if suddenly coming to a decision, she threw the tip of her colourful silk headscarf over her shoulder with practised movements, reaching into the satchel at her side. Wordlessly, she drew out a flask and handed it to him. He accepted it without complaint. After taking several large gulps of the water, he passed it back to her, wiping the excess moisture from his lips with the back of a filthy hand. The movement did little to improve his extraordinary appearance, but the woman made no comment. Taylor studied her with a measured gaze.

"What's your story?"

She smiled at him, her dark eyes bemused.

"I'm not sure I understand what you're inferring."

He huffed.

"Well, no one comes here for fun now, do they?"

She stared back at him for several seconds, then shook her head slowly.

"No, I suppose they don't. But you might say that I'm a scavenger. There are plenty of valuable scraps left after these sorts of accidents if you know where to look .. and you don't mind a bit of radiation poisoning." The woman choked out a painful-sounding laugh. "Though I've never seen anyone survive it before. You must have nine lives."

The former commander eyed her grimly.

"You could say that."

"Well, someone obviously wants you to survive."

These innocent words seemed to light a fire inside of the old man. He snarled darkly, casting a bitter look around at his apocalyptic surroundings.

"Can't imagine why."

The fog had retracted a little, but with every new metre of visibility, nothing was revealed save for more mountains of splintered remains, each seemingly larger and more hideous than the last.

"Why, huh?! Why?! Why?!" Taylor suddenly screeched at the piles of muddy destruction, his dramatics doing his already-strained voice more harm than good. "Answer me that if you've got the guts to say it to my face! Why did you leave me here this time?!"

The woman's mouth twitched at the corners, but she simply folded her hands and waited for his exhibition to end. When he finally allowed his body to slump wearily back against the wall, she offered a simple explanation of her own.

"Maybe there's someone here that still needs you."

Taylor looked back up at her, sniffing in derision.

"What do you mean .. Lucas?" He shook his head, his lungs choking out a few short bursts in an attempt to rid themselves of the inhaled smoke. "He stopped needing me a long time ago."

"Not the way I see it."

She bent down to examine a particularly shiny object. Taylor stared at her sharply.

"What do you know about it?"

"Not much." She didn't bother looking at him as she responded. "Just that he's been waiting here for you for hours. I thought you must've been dead, but I wasn't sure if he was dangerous, so I left him to it."

Taylor's eyes had widened throughout the course of this surprising little speech. Now he stood quickly, with no regard for his potentially broken leg or his spinning head.

"Where? Where is my son? What did he say to you?!"

The woman dropped the metallic object back into the rubble and shot him an odd look.

"Your .. son is right beside you. Been lying there all night. Almost gave me a heart attack when I came to search."

The former commander stared around with wild eyes, but rather than the irritating grin he was expecting to find awaiting him, his gaze instead met that of a familiar large reptile. The Kaprosuchus was lying nearby, stretched out on top of a door that had been blown clean off its hinges. As he sprang abruptly to his feet, the animal stared at him, looking equally as confused.

"What-"

"He's one scary-looking beast, your son."

Taylor whipped his head around to gape at the woman again. Then, all at once, the puzzle clicked together in his mind and he sank back down to sit in the rubble. The Kap watched gravely as he put his hands over his face.

"Hey, are you alright?" The woman began to come a little closer, but a warning rumble from the Kaprosuchus halted her steps. "You did just cheat death, not for the first time I'd imagine. Should I get a doctor?"

"No." Taylor moaned. "Leave me alone."

"What, your plan is simply to sit here and wait to die?" The woman folded her arms, looking less than impressed. "I thought your son – 'Lucas' – needed you."

"He's not my son!" Taylor threw an arm out and flung a small rock in her general direction. This scavenger was more infuriating than most of the terrorists he'd met in his lifetime. "My son is out there somewhere .."

He gestured helplessly into the misty void. The woman sat down on a nearby pile.

"Sounds to me like you need to go find him."

"You don't understand." Taylor gritted, then groaned again and grasped his head tightly in his bloodied hands. It was starting to ache like there was no tomorrow. "I can't get through to him. I'll never be able to get through to him. He's gone."

"No one's ever really gone." The woman crooned comfortingly. "You'll find a way."

Taylor glared up at her.

"There is no way. You can't possibly comprehend the situation."

"And you give up too easily. Not everything is as it appears on the surface."

Something glinted in the woman's eyes. She suddenly seemed to understand far more than she had a moment ago. Taylor's own gaze narrowed as she shook her head, calmly retying her scarf around the back of her neck.

"You see, I know you. You walk around pretending to be some tough guy, but then when someone really needs you, you run in the opposite direction. Your fear of commitment has finally caught up with you, my bruised friend."

Taylor stared at her in exasperation.

"You don't know what you're talking about! I ran a colony for years, I was in the army before that. I've had people depending on me for most of my life."

"Not like this." The treasure hunter had formed a theory and now she was apparently prepared to die on her rubbish heap. "Your son still needs you and now you want to go throw your life away."

"I told you, he doesn't need me."

"Sons always need their fathers." She nodded wisely. "And you, my friend, are no shining example. You need to try harder. You'll get through to him eventually."

The former commander shook his head.

"I've always wanted to be there for him. I've always wanted him to need me."

"Which is why you wish you were dead." She retorted bluntly. "Forgive me, but something just isn't adding up in this story."

Taylor glared pointedly at her for a moment before getting angrily to his feet.

"You don't know a thing. You're just a crazy woman who goes through other peoples' trash. You want to play the wise counsellor because you're lonely and bored. Well, I've had enough of it."

She slipped some unidentifiable trinket into her bag, watching him curiously.

"Where are you going?"

"To find a way off this heap."

He turned his back on her and tramped off. The stiff Kaprosuchus dragged himself reluctantly from his comfortable spot on the door and followed as Taylor stumbled unsteadily over the debris.

"That's the spirit!" The woman called after him, with a knowing smile.

A moment later, the former commander stopped abruptly. The smoke was finally clearing, and as it did, the red haze of the future was dissipating before his eyes. The air that replaced it was clearer and brighter than anything he'd ever seen in Chicago. Even the muddied ocean at his feet began to exhibit streaks of crystalline blue. He stared in confusion.

"What-"

"So you see. Not everything is as it appears. Didn't I tell you?"

His jaw dropped open slightly as he gaped about him. The fog had already become little more than a memory. The ocean surrounding his small structure lapped cheerfully at his feet, covering the toes of his dust-encrusted boots with a liquid shine. A large section of dark grey arch extended out of the waves, framing the two figures from behind. In the distance, the ramshackle huts of Base Zero were already coming into view, their yellow sand contrasting brightly against the blue-green coastal waters. Then the rugged cliffs appeared, and beyond them, the lush green mountains that housed the Snakehead.

Terra Nova.

But .. how?!

A quiet scrabbling noise arose from behind him and he turned again to see the scavenger woman approaching. She was grinning this time.

"You were so busy feeling sorry for yourself that you didn't recognise your own home. You could've seen beyond the mirage immediately. All you had to do was look up."

At her prompting, he looked. The sky above was a deep, sapphire blue, streaked here and there by white clouds. Against the backdrop, two Pterosaurs circled, their pointed heads staring down at him suspiciously. Slowly, Taylor's gaze dropped, returning uncertainly to his companion's.

".. I don't understand."

"It was the Portal." She explained. "I'm not sure how or why it happened, but it imploded. When it did, it cut the whole base right in half. Looks like a section ended up here, and you with it. You're one very fortunate man."

He looked at her blankly, his mind whirling as the reality of the impossible situation struggled to sink in.

"I can go home .." He laughed, running a hand incredulously through his silver hair. "I can go home!"

He paused, frowning suddenly.

"But wait .. what about you? What are you going to do?"

The scavenger smiled. She didn't seem concerned with her own predicament in the least.

"Don't worry about me. I have a talent for getting out of sticky situations."

He raised an eyebrow, but as he hesitated, she gestured toward the battered dock that jutted out from the beach.

"Well, what are you waiting for? The shore's not so far away. I hope you're a good swimmer."

Taylor snorted loudly.

"Swim?! In that water? Are you out of your mind?"

Together, they managed to locate a piece of scrap that was large and sturdy enough to use as a makeshift raft. With some convincing, the Kaprosuchus was loaded on, then Taylor climbed aboard, turning back to the stranger as his platform bobbed gently up and down beneath him.

"Sure I can't persuade you to come back with me?"

Her mouth twitched once more as she shook her head.

"Thank you, but no. I'm not quite finished here yet."

The commander-turned-captain shrugged, then raised an iron bar to push his tiny vessel away from the shore of the new island.

"Suit yourself."

With a brief wave, he set to work. Attempting to manoeuvre the slice of jagged plexiglass without sliding right off the side was hard enough, but his sailing companion made the job twice as difficult. Though the Kaprosuchus wasn't particularly inclined to move about – his claws remained firmly fixed to the vessel – his weight caused the raft to dip alarmingly on one side. To make matters worse, Taylor's pounding head didn't exactly seem to be appreciating the instability of his ride.

A few metres through the journey, however, something caught his eye. Against his better judgement, he looked down into the depths beneath him. Surrounded by the translucent water, the remains of the tunnels and laboratories were now far more visible than they'd ever been in the future. Fish swam around them joyfully, darting in and out of the tubes as though they had discovered their own personal playground.

He looked up, intending to point out the spectacle to the woman he had left behind, but when he turned back to locate her, he found he couldn't. Frowning, his gaze scanned the extent of the platform again, but it was no use.

The scavenger was gone.

Christmas Day had finally arrived .. 3 days late.

It had been unanimously decided that the occasion would be celebrated with a colony-wide gathering near the remains of the valiant front gate. A mass of suitable logs had been retrieved for the purpose of seating, and now Terra Nova's entire congregation lay scattered about, celebrating the day together in whatever manner they saw fit.

Jim gazed around at it all in contentment, bouncing Vaughn lightly on his knee, his hand intertwined with Elisabeth's. It wasn't long before his oldest son drew his attention back to his immediate circle. Josh was very seriously examining the cobbled-together scraps of Christmas gifts that lay amongst them, picking the treasures up one-by-one in order to offer his insightful impressions of the reasoning and thoughtfulness behind them.

The Shannon family clown had just placed a small plant pot atop his head, and was sitting upright in a most regal manner, turning his nose up at everyone while his youngest sister was reduced to chuckles. Beside her, Maddy released a patronising snort.

"That look suits you, Joshua."

"Why thank you, Madison." The bearer of the plant turned his head very carefully to the left. "And pray, what do you think, O Brother-in-Law?"

"You look radiant." Mark responded gravely, causing Maddy's brother to throw a kingly look of superiority in her direction.

"Radiant, he says. You should be taking notes."

"And you should be taking that thing off your head before it bites someone."

"Rubbish. This variety doesn't bite .." The young doctor met Zoe's gaze for a moment, then turned to eye his fiancée doubtfully. "It doesn't bite .. does it?"

Tasha gave an exaggerated shrug, her vacant smile dissuading any potential suspicion of her own involvement.

"Ask Zoe. She picked it out."

Upon hearing this, Josh hurriedly removed the product from his person, placing it as far away as his arms could reach. He eyed his youngest sister severely as she retrieved the rejected plant, patting its leaves with an air of offence.

"Don't pay any attention to him, Yertle."

"Yertle?!" Josh spluttered, startling the snoozing Ovosaur beside him out of its peaceful slumber. He placed a reassuring hand on its head. Inky wasn't quite back to his old self just yet, but with each passing day, he was gaining strength. It wouldn't be long before he was darting around again and knocking Vaughn off his feet while the boy returned to his former vice of trying to grab the creature's feathers when it wasn't looking.

Zoe raised her chin imperiously.

"And what is wrong with the name Yertle?"

"Nothing." Josh answered gently. "If you were christening the son of a matchmaker in Uzbergheslavistein."

He paused, swapping a laughing look with the woman opposite him. Elisabeth was watching the nonsensical exchange with sparkling eyes.

"You know what, I think I'm warming up to it after all." Josh mused unexpectedly, and turned back to his closest sibling, smiling like a cherub from ear to ear. "You should name your first kiddo that, Madds. Yertle Joshua Reynolds. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"Jehoshaphat's monocle it does!" Maddy spluttered, then exchanged a sober look with Zoe. "That's it. He's getting too bold. He's been allowed to run wild these last few months. I think it's high time he needs to be reminded of his place in this family. Get him."

"No! Stop!" Josh yelped, pushing against the large log at his back, struggling in vain to escape as the vicious attackers came at him from either side. "I yield! I yield!"

"Too late .." Maddy sung in his ear as her fingers found the fleshy part between his ribs. "There's a pecking order here, my good man, and you best not forget it!"

Zoe tickled him with enthusiasm for a moment, then she seemed to give up abruptly, burying her face in his jumper and clinging to him instead. Maddy retreated, exchanging a look of some feeling with her mother as Josh's arms wrapped tightly around the little girl. For a moment, they stayed there like that, half reclining against the log behind them. Then Josh found the wind knocked out of his sails a second time as another force threw itself upon him.

Vaughn had watched the scene play out with curiosity, but had now finally decided he wanted in. Zoe raised her head, shouting with laughter as the boy pounded his little fists on Josh's chest, beaming with satisfaction all across his small face.

As the rest of the family dissolved into cackles, another figure drew up beside them, panting heavily. Jim's face grew sober as he met the young man's eyes.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Commander." The soldier greeted him formally. "Sorry to interrupt your family time, sir, but a lookout spotted a lone man wandering around near Observation Tower 5. They sent me to tell you not to worry. They think he must've been missed somehow in the Phoenix cleanup. They're bringing him in now."

Jim nodded, his face clearing.

"Roger that. When he arrives, put him with the others."

"Yes, sir."

"And Gareth?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Get yourself some frut cake. You look like you need it."

The young soldier's face twisted into a wry smile.

"Yes, sir."

Jim laughed as the boy retreated, then gave his attention fully back to his family.

Across the square, Lucas sat on his own log, watching the merriment with a wistful expression. Skye stood beside him, her eyes flicking soberly from one nearby celebration to the next.

"It's happening right in front of me, but I still can't believe it's real. Can you?" She folded her arms, casting a glance down at him. "There were so many times I didn't think I'd ever see another sunrise, let alone end up back here for Christmas."

"She should have been here." The gravelly voice murmured back, as though he hadn't heard her. "I wish I could've told her for certain that everything was going to be okay. She deserved to know how it ended. I just wish she'd been able to see this."

"Yeah, me too." Skye followed his gaze over to the small group beneath the gate. "And Taylor. And everyone else we lost along the way."

She shoved her hands into her pockets and slid her boot along the ground, leaving scuff marks in the gravel.

"Not fair, is it? They all should've lived to see today. But they didn't. Some things just don't make sense."

Below her, Lucas grasped his knees and rested his chin on his arm, his eyes studying the joyful faces of the Commander's children.

"Does it ever stop hurting?"

"Not in the way people pretend it does. To stop the pain, you'd have to forget completely."

"Hm."

"It isn't all sadness though." She added, after a short period of silence. "Humans are complicated. Sooner or later, the sun comes out. The happiness creeps back in – sometimes despite a person's best efforts, like in your case."

She grinned briefly at him. He shook his head as he returned the look.

"Guess that's why they call it 'bittersweet', huh?"

"Yeah. One emotion doesn't necessarily negate the other." She commented, ignoring the jibe of "look at you with your fancy words" and raising her hands with a short laugh.

"Look, all I'm saying is, you learn to be sad and happy at the same time, alright? Where there's love, there's always hope. That's what my dad used to tell me when things seemed really bad. In the times you feel completely lost, just look up. Look for the light. The darker things get, the easier it'll be to find."

A soft snort came from the log.

"Sounds like a dreamer."

"Yeah, I used to think the same thing." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "But you know what? I think in the end, he was right."

Skye stared down at the physicist beside her for a moment, then reached toward her shirt collar.

"And speaking of happiness .." She lifted the necklace carefully over her hair and lowered it, holding it out to him with a smile. "I believe this is yours. Merry Christmas."

The silver slice of metal twisted in the breeze. Lucas gazed at it for several seconds, fingering the identical version around his own neck. Then his eyes moved up to meet hers, and he shook his head slightly.

"It's alright. You keep it."

"What for, so I can keep track of you when you next decide to run off?"

"Run off?" He snorted. "Skye Tate, you couldn't get rid of me even if you wanted to."

"I know .." Skye responded, with some disappointment. ".. I've tried."

Lucas blinked.

"Ouch. Heartless much?"

She gave a brief laugh, then nodded once more at the tag.

"No, come on, you take it. I know how much it means to you."

"It means more to me knowing you've got it." He grinned suddenly. "Just don't lose it, or I'll start yelling into it and you'll hear my voice screeching from somewhere under your bed – or worse, in the depths of your closet – at all hours of the night."

Skye shouted with laughter.

"Don't forget Malcolm still has the others. I'm sure he'd be suitably impressed if you woke him up with your Pterodactyl impression at 3:00 am."

"If Malcolm's anywhere near his desk drawer at 3:00 am, he deserves whatever he gets." Lucas retorted, pushing her hand back gently. "You keep it. Really. Remember all the adventures it was part of."

"That we were part of, you mean." She threw a smile at him and held the tag up to the sun, where it spun a little, reflecting the glittering light and spraying a shower of gold dust all around them. Lucas stared at the bejewelled ground in silence for several moments, then looked back up.

"That we've been part of so far anyway." He murmured. "There'll be more to come."

"You promise?"

He watched as she replaced it around her neck, then studied her seriously as she gazed down at the tag in her hand, an odd expression flickering across her face.

"What?"

"Oh. Nothing .." She laughed, her forehead creasing in confusion as she looked back at him. "Just .. life. It's weird. A few years ago, I never could have imagined that the guy I shot and left for dead would end up becoming the best friend I ever had. We've come pretty far, huh?"

Lucas met her eyes, smiling in silence for a few seconds. Then he spoke.

"Twice."

Skye frowned.

"Hm?"

"You shot me twice. Just for clarification." He responded. "And it still hurts sometimes, by the way."

"Ah." Skye grinned. "What can I say? I like to leave a lasting impression."

He chuckled, eyeing her quietly even after the laugh had faded.

"You did."

Skye held his gaze for a few moments, and then looked away, shifting her feet awkwardly. Lucas placed a hand on his chest, covering the old scars where the bullets had once been. The movement drew her eyes back to him.

"And now, you'll always have a place .. right here."

She stared down in a motherly fashion.

"That is adorable."

"I know." He complimented himself, causing Skye to shake her head as she dropped to sit beside him.

"Alright, since you're feeling so nostalgic this morning .. if that one's mine, who does the other one belong to?"

"You." Lucas answered promptly. "You put them there. They're both yours."

Skye was shaking her head again.

"No, no, I can't be greedy! I think it should be your dad's."

"What-"

"After all, one of those shots was on his behalf. The other was on mine. It's only fair."

"I don't remember reading that in the fine print." Lucas argued pedantically. "No. I was shot against my will, so it's my choice. No dad."

"Aha, but you deserved it. People deserving of their punishment have no rights." Skye countered, causing him to laugh in outrage. "I'm the closest thing you have to family, so I'll be the judge."

"Why not? You're already the executioner."

He snorted as Skye gasped and turned on him furiously, causing him to emit a strange squawk as her pointing finger dug into his ribs.

"Careful, careful, I think my chest is hurting again."

"I'd hurt too if I didn't know who I belonged to." She retorted, relenting. Lucas' mouth twitched.

"Then I guess it's a good thing you never have to have that problem."

She looked at him sharply, but he was busy scribbling something in the dirt with his finger. It looked like gibberish to her, but that, of course, wasn't unusual. She watched him for a moment more before saying anything, then tried again.

"It's still your dad's."

Lucas didn't look up.

"Is not."

"No, it definitely is."

"Not."

"Is."

His gaze lifted slowly to hers. Then, before she could react, he leapt forward, throwing his arms around her and holding her tightly, locking her own elbows to her sides. Skye froze for a moment in surprise, then tried to rid herself of the restraints. They wouldn't budge. Eventually, she gave up, laughing weakly.

"You know, when you first did that, I thought you were planning to attack my rib cage or mess up my hair. This the best plan you could come up with? Kind of depressing if I'm being honest."

Lucas shrugged – at least, he did so as best he could without the use of his arms.

"I considered both, but the first option felt overdone, and there was really no need for the second-" He grinned as another insulted gasp came from his captive. "Besides, this is much more effective."

She snorted, taking the opportunity to lean back lazily against him.

"How do you figure?"

Lucas rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Look around."

She heard, rather than saw, his smile, and a feeling of foreboding took hold of her. It was the knowing expression he wore when he had just won a game – usually three turns before she realised what had happened. This was the same. He had outwitted her somehow. But .. how ..

She raised her head and looked around, startled by the curious gazes that met hers. It seemed like the entire colony was watching the interaction. The colour drained from her face, and then doubled in intensity as it returned. She squirmed, trying to pull his arm away, but the attempt was futile. She clenched his wrist, gritting her teeth as she tried not to meet any more knowing stares.

"Alright, let me go." She muttered. "You've proven your point."

She felt him shake his head stubbornly.

"Can't, I'm afraid. You still haven't served the rest of your sentence."

"How long is this sentence?!"

"50 years."

Skye choked.

"50 years?!"

"It was a terrible crime." Lucas responded with regret. "And you were the one that said-"

"Alright, alright!" Skye shouted with laughter. "You know what, I'll free myself."

She took a small piece of his skin between her fingers and pinched it hard, expecting him to jump back instinctively. He didn't. Eventually, she let go, afraid of drawing blood.

"What- Are you even human?!"

"Fine .." Lucas sighed dramatically, apparently having barely noticed the counterattack. "Say you surrender and I'll let you go."

Skye opened her mouth, then hesitated, trying her best to squint around at him suspiciously.

".. what's the catch?"

"No catch." He replied cheerfully. "I've just never witnessed you giving in to anyone, so I want to see it for myself."

Skye sat for a moment, trying to anticipate the trap, but unable to find it. She was running out of time to make her decision. Silas and Curran had broken away from their former group and were beginning to wander over. As she watched them draw closer, she panicked and began tapping the unyielding arm hurriedly.

"Alright, alright, I surrender. Now let me go."

"Okay."

Immediately, he released her, leaning back slightly as he balanced his weight on the log. Skye slid away a little and eyed him with skepticism. After a few moments, he frowned, laughing almost nervously as he did so.

".. what?"

"What's the catch?" She repeated. He stared at her.

"I told you, there was no catch."

She continued to watch him for a few seconds more, but when he shrugged and raised his eyebrows at her, she relented.

"Okay .."

He was silent for a moment or two, then he spoke up again in a conversational voice.

"You do still have one problem to solve now though."

"I knew it." Skye sighed and shook her head, looking back at him expectantly. "What then? What is it?"

"Now you have to get me another present."

Skye scoffed.

"Not my fault you didn't want it."

"On the contrary, the necklace was my present to you. Now it's your turn."

She spluttered.

"Cop-out. Just because you couldn't be bothered getting one in the first place."

Lucas just laughed. He had not, in fact, gotten a gift for anyone. Not because he hadn't been bothered, but because, after spending more than one sleepless night trying to devise something, he had eventually failed miserably and decided upon nothing. So he feigned indifference.

The crunch of boots beside them indicated that company had arrived.

"Hello, lovebirds."

The girl's murderous glare sent a nasty chill through Curran's stomach, though the thoughtless comment hadn't even come from his mouth. Silas, on the other hand, seemed to have a shield of cast iron, for the look merely bounced off him like an affectionate caress. He smiled, depositing himself down beside Skye.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Keep it up and you'll find that the log's not big enough for you anymore."

"Not big enough anyway." He retorted. He was right. Squeezed up against her, his backside was still hanging half off the edge. He had tried to make it work. It hadn't.

He was still teetering on the edge of a rather nasty injury when an incredulous cry came from the gate. All four looked up, watching with interest as Jim sprang to his feet, turning sharply toward the entrance.

"What?!"

Contrary to all appearances, he didn't sound angry. Unable to resist their curiosity any longer, Skye and Lucas stood at the same moment.

The loss of their weight had come with little warning. Silas released an unsteady grunt as the log tilted beneath him, bucking him off and planting him firmly on the ground. A mocking laugh exploded from Curran as the other soldier poked his tongue out rudely, but neither Lucas or Skye noticed. Instead, they stood rooted to the spot, barely daring to breathe as they watched Jim venture out the gate.

"I don't believe it .."

Two soldiers marched solemnly on either side of the prisoner as they escorted him into the colony, but as the Commander approached, they stepped back, leaving their charge to fend for himself. Jim stopped directly beneath the blue and black entrance, staring speechlessly at the new arrival. He was silent for so long that the other man began to laugh.

"For pity's sake, Jim, you look like you've seen the ghost of Christmas past."

"Actually, I was thinking more like Santa."

A grin spread across Taylor's face as he reached out and gripped the offered arm, pulling his delighted friend into a firm embrace. Below them, the circling Kaprosuchus raised an eyebrow as a series of delirious chuckles erupted from the two men.

They were mad. Stark-raving mad. Both of them.

"Good to see you, Shannon."

"You too .. but .." Jim shook his head in bewilderment. "But how-"

Taylor patted him on the back by way of reply.

"Another story for another time."

Jim stared at him, but the former commander's eyes had focused somewhere beyond his friend's questioning gaze. Jim turned to see Lucas standing several metres away, seemingly frozen to the spot as he watched the two men greet one another.

"Understood." Jim nodded, gripping Taylor's shoulder for a moment before he retreated. "And Nathaniel. It is good to have you back."

"Thanks, Jim."

The former commander watched as his successor paused several metres away, raising a hand to offer some cryptic message to the fascinated soldiers hovering nearby. The men seemed to understand the message, and hung back, though every soul in the area by now was straining their eyes to catch a glimpse of their original leader. There was only so long Jim would be able to stall the tidal wave before it broke free of its own accord.

Taylor turned back to his son. Lucas had paused warily a few feet in front of him, his expression troubled. The Grinch, his father thought smugly, as he steeled himself for the onslaught, drawing himself up like a gunslinger preparing for a duel.

Might as well get this over with.

"Well." He barked, admittedly more gruffly than he had intended. "I survived."

"You're .. alive."

"I just said that, didn't I?"

"But .. you couldn't have just .." Lucas' voice trembled slightly, tears glittering in the corners of his eyes as he stared at his father. His confusion was seemingly growing by the second. "How .. How did you-"

"You didn't think you could get rid of your old man that easily, did you?" Taylor snorted. "You've got another thing coming if you-"

He never finished. Instead, his words were cut off by an unexpected frontal assault as the boy charged. With a strange sob, Lucas threw his arms around his father.

"I don't care, I don't care." He repeated brokenly, his tears already dampening the other man's ragged shirt.

A shell-shocked Taylor stood for a moment in amazement. Then, slowly, he smiled, oblivious to the gathering crowd that was surrounding them as he returned the hug.

He was home.

They both were. Really home, perhaps for the first time since the shattering of the bond that had once joined them together. He clenched his jaw, impatiently willing himself not to cry as his grip tightened around the shaking figure that clung to him.

"Merry Christmas, son."

A muffled laugh came in response, but instead of the rejection – or worse, retaliation – he was expecting, Lucas stayed put, his chin bumping against his father's shoulder as he nodded.

"Yeah. Merry Christmas, Dad."

Allow me to paint one last picture, if you will, for I hope that you'll remember us this way. Remember the sight of the golden sun glittering against the clean snow crystals while pterosaurs circle across a blue-grey sky, a Carnotaur roaring in the distance. Remember the sound of Snakehead Falls echoing through the woods. You can still hear it now if you concentrate. It's currently trickling, as parts of it are frozen over, but when the warmth comes again, it will spring back to life and become the rushing torrent it was created to be.

By the time that day arrives, the colony will have entered a new season of its history. While the trees, though snow-capped, remain an array of the same familiar shades of green, the singed blacks and browns are gone. The battle scars have faded, and the bright white shadecloths of the markets now contrast with the fresh blue and yellow paint of the houses. Everywhere you look, happy faces are busily moving about, and the sound of laughter flitters through the red gravel streets.

Terra Nova has returned, a more brilliant and sparkling testament to hope than ever. Even now, framed by the gates, still standing tall and solid, the Command Centre is waiting, ready for duty and prepared to face whatever may lie ahead. Behind it, the wide flaxen fields spread out, crisscrossed with streams of sparkling blue.

And beyond that, the wild, cavernous cliffs of the mountain.

Strange, isn't it, the paths life chooses to take us on? The twists and turns, we fly, we fall, and sometimes, we end up right back where we started.

Survival is a funny thing.

But though the situations and faces may remain the same, the path of life never quite overlaps upon itself. We change. And though we might like to, we can never go back. In the end, we were never meant to. We keep moving forward, we grow, we adapt. We seize the day because we never know where the next day may take us.

Occasionally, as we walk the tightrope of simply surviving, somewhere along the way, we stumble upon a reason for living. And quite often we discover that, with a little encouragement, we're capable of more than we ever could have believed was possible.

Yes, survival is a funny thing.

But if we're very fortunate, as the curtain falls on our journey, we look back to find that not only did we survive ..

We lived.

THE END

ROLL CREDITS

Author's Note:

Well, this is where we leave our beloved characters. As someone indescribably greater than myself once said, it is finished. I suppose part of the journey really is the end.

Who would have thought that the spontaneous, only half-serious, largely directionless chapter that began Eye of the Storm would gradually develop into this behemoth, complete with so many interlocking parts that it terrified even me? Honestly, there were many times I despaired of ever finishing it, but believe it or not, the old saying is true.
It only takes a single drop at a time to fill a bucket.

(You'll have to forgive me the analogy – after 6 years of living in Terra Nova Land, one's mind tends to veer naturally toward such things ..)

For all those who have followed the story throughout its winding life, I thank you. Quite honestly, I can't thank you enough. Perhaps one day, we shall meet again. But for now ..

May the wind be ever at your back.

May you make the most of the time you're given.

And may you enjoy your own journeys as much as I have enjoyed mine.

- George DeWhite