Wrecked
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, just keeping them alive.


The day had started out so well. But good things only lasted for so long, especially for him. And how rapidly things had disintegrated too. One moment, he was packing his bags, reminiscing on yet another good deed done, and then the next, his door was being kicked down by a hot-headed brunette with everything to prove.

“Hello Jarod,” Miss Parker purred from behind the tight grip of her firearm.

Despite the obvious danger he was in, Jarod found himself smirking as his eyes flickered over the tall woman and the three men standing behind her.

“Greetings all,” he responded smoothly.

Quite the crew she had. A spooked technician who looked as if he was going to wet himself at anytime, a quiet psychiatrist who always appeared like he knew more than what he was letting on, and a sweeper who seemed like he’d be more comfortable driving a mini van and taking the kids to soccer practice.

“Nice of you to drop in,” he added.

It had been one of his most enjoyable pretends to date, regardless of its rather abrupt and unpleasant end. He was investigating the questionable accident of a charter plane that resulted in the death of the pilot and five passengers. It turned out it hadn’t been an accident at all, someone had sabotaged the aircraft, and Jarod saw to it that the culprit got what was coming to him and those six lost lives were given the justice they deserved. But, it hadn’t been the pretend itself that had been so satisfying; it was the location. Posing as a private pilot himself, Jarod was able to fly over the vast ocean, carrying passengers back and forth to the islands. It was beautiful and far from the clutches of the Centre, which made him seriously wonder how they had even found him on such an exclusive island.

“Time to come home, Jarod,” the brunette said.

Defiantly, he shook his head and took a small step back from his leather bag on the bed. “The Centre is not my home.”

Her blue eyes watched his every move like a hawk with scope vision, the lean muscles in her arms and legs tightening instinctively. “Stay where you are,” Miss Parker instructed firmly. Without looking away from the pretender, she addressed the sweeper. “Sam, cuff him.”

“My pleasure,” was his mumbled reply as he moved out from behind her.

Jarod watched as the suited man advanced toward him calmly, despite the fact that his heart was beating hard against the walls of his chest. As soon as the other man was within reach, Jarod sprung without warning. He nailed him with a right hook, sending the heavier man toppling backwards and into the trio behind him.

Taking full advantage of the moment, Jarod spun and went for the window. He had the screen kicked out and he was leaning out of it when he heard Miss Parker screaming for him to stop. Fat chance in hell, he thought, as he took a breath and pushed himself out, sailing down the two stories to the grass below. He hit the ground and rolled, then sprang to his feet and sprinted with all his might toward the water’s edge. Anchored in the waves, the small, red plane waited for him, his ticket out.

“Jarod!” he heard behind him. “Stop!”

He sloshed through the water and stepped up onto one of the floaters, his hand reaching for the door. Just as his fingers crazed the handle … CLANK! Ducking, he shot his pursuers an accusing look, realizing with dread that both brunette and sweeper were shooting at him.

“Jarod, I said stop!” she screamed.

“Clearly,” Jarod mumbled to himself, before popping open the door and hauling himself in.

Quickly, he started the plane, going through the line of switches to get the thing airborne. He watched through the front window as Miss Parker and her team hesitated at the water’s edge, shielding themselves from the onslaught of wind the front propellers made.

Jarod smirked at the furious look on his huntress’s face, a look he was all too familiar with. With expert ease, he directed the plane around, but just as he was about to begin take off, he felt the old plane shudder from an extra weight, and turned his head just in time to see the cabin door pop open. In poked the head of Sam, quickly followed by his black handgun.

“Jarod, get out!” he shouted.

Without thinking, Jarod leaned back and kicked him, sending the man hurdling out and into the water with a mighty splash. Just as Jarod reached out to close the door, the window exploded into shards and he ducked instinctively.

“Parker, don’t!” he heard Sydney cry. “You’ll hit him!”

But, the mentor’s protests had no effect on the woman for three more shots followed, the bullets ricocheting through the plane’s cabin. One implanted itself in the control panel, erupting a spray of sparks and a surprised shout from Jarod.

“Get out, Jarod!” Parker yelled again.

Jarod turned his head away from the crackling controls to the sweeper and brunette who both had their weapons firmly pointed at him. He swallowed, his heart sinking when he realized his escape had just gone up in smoke—literally.

“Out!” Parker screamed.

“Alright, alright,” Jarod said, throwing up his hands.

Slowly, he eased himself out of the plane and down into the thigh-deep water, then turned and made his way toward Parker, Sydney and Broots who waited for him on the shore. Once he reached them, he watched the gleam of satisfaction reflect in Parker’s eyes, the spark of triumph. Jarod, on the other hand, was feeling a little less enthusiastic, although he was certain that he would find a way to escape. They were on an island, and the only way off was by plane. He would find a way.

Sam moved up behind him, his gun planted firmly in the middle of Jarod’s back.

“You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble if you had just cooperated with us, Jarod,” Miss Parker said, the lines of her mouth perking.

“And what—skip this fun? Never.”

“Well, we can make this as painless as possible if you just behave.” She lifted up her other hand and handcuffs dangled from her finger. Jarod eyed them wearily, before he moved his gaze back up to her face. “Turn around,” she instructed.

Jarod narrowed his eyes for a moment, but finally heeded to her command and turned to face the sweeper. He felt her move, felt the cool graze of metal on his wrists, but before she could snap them shut, he swung his arms around and brought up his knee at the same time. The sweeper went down like a sack of sand, clutching his groin and groaning like a dying man. Jarod darted off to the side and tried to steer around the arms that were reaching for him, but the grip was stronger than expected. He stumbled into them, lifting his head to stare at Sydney appallingly, before he desperately tried to rip away from him.

“Let go, Sydney!” Jarod growled.

Another pair of hands grabbed him and he felt her breath on his neck, smelled her perfume.

“Broots!” she shouted. “Don’t just stand there, you idiot!”

The tech looked on helplessly as the three struggled. Just as he summoned enough courage to step in, the pretender managed to pry himself out of their grips and turned to bolt, unaware that Broots was right in his way. Both fell to the sand with a loud “Oof,” successfully knowing the air out of both of them. Just as Jarod recovered enough to get up, he was hit from behind with the butt of a gun, and with a groan, slumped forward onto Broots’s still sprawled form.

Broots paled under the weight and looked up wide-eyed at the three that stood over him. Miss Parker looked amused, Sam looked victorious, but Sydney looked furious and was shooting daggers at the sweeper.

“You could have seriously hurt him,” the older man griped.

Sam looked at the doctor while he tucked his gun back into its holster. “He’ll live.”

“Um … help me,” Broots mumbled, trying to shift under the pretender’s weight.

Sam bent down and pulled the unconscious pretender off the immobilized technician, who gave a breath of relief after being freed from such an awkward position. As Broots straightened to his feet, he caught the look on Miss Parker’s face—a smile of all teeth, a glimmer of pleasure in her eyes—and he shifted uncomfortably.

“Nice job, Broots,” she said. “There’s an use for you after all.”

Broots cleared his throat. “J-just doing my job.”

------

Jarod lifted his head with a groan, succumbing to the conscious world with a huge headache and humming in his ears. As he blinked his eyes open, he realized that the humming wasn’t just him, but the aircraft that he was in, the one that was carrying him over the South Pacific and back to the main land. He wasn’t sure how long they had been flying, but by a quick look at Miss Parker who sat across from him, he would have guessed not long. Her cigarette was still long and she still had that cat-just-ate-the-canary look.

She must have sensed him watching her, for she looked over and met his eyes. “Welcome back to the living, Jarod.”

Jarod flexed his hands that were handcuffed to the arms of his seat. “Quite the welcome.”

Parker grinned. Beside her, Sydney had been reading a book, but looked up when Parker had spoken.

“Jarod,” Sydney acknowledged. “How is your head?”

Jarod gazed at the man, feeling a coiled anger toward him, feeling betrayed. Slowly, Jarod turned his head away and aimed his gaze back out the window. “Intact,” was his short reply.

The door to the small bathroom popped open and out walked Broots, looking a little worn. As he flopped down in the seat a few down from where Jarod sat, the psychiatrist gave him a curious look.

“Are you alright, Broots?”

“Fine,” Broots sighed, shaking his head. “Just feeling a little air sick.”

“Maybe we should land at a seven-eleven or something,” Jarod said sardonically, turning his head to look at the tech. “Get you some medicine.”

The moment their eyes met, Broots swallowed and looked away, feeling guilty for his earlier involvement in the capture. Jarod remained staring at his profile, piercing him with his eyes.

“Jarod, I know this is hard for you,” Sydney began.

“Oh, do you now?” Jarod interrupted, turning his eyes on him. He gazed hard at the two faces that sat opposite of him, searching their expressions. Finally, he willed himself to ask the question that had been bothering him. “How did you find me anyway?”

Parker smiled and blew a puff of smoke in his direction. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“How?” Jarod demanded.

“Let’s just say,” she began, “You pissed off the wrong people this time.”

Jarod gazed at her, digesting her words. After a moment, his eyes narrowed. “William Radloft, the man that caused the accident, he was with the Centre, wasn’t he?”

Parker smiled, giving him the only answer he needed.

Jarod inhaled slowly and leaned back against the seat. “I kind of sensed it. There had been a passenger on the plane that had old ties to my family.”

“Radloft was kind enough to give us a call before you did him in.”

“Kind enough,” Jarod repeated with a snort. He shook his head and looked out the window for a moment. “The man killed six people. The passenger on that plane might have held a key to my past.”

“It sucks, doesn’t it?” Parker sneered.

Jarod shot her a look, but before he could say something, the aircraft gave a rough shudder and they all looked around, alarmed. A few moments later, Sam poked his head out of the pilot cabin, a look of worry shadowing in his eyes.

“We seem to be having some malfunctioning in the gears,” he informed them. “The pilot said he might have to crash land.”

“Crash land?” Parker repeated with upraised eyebrows. She shot the window a look, at the vast openness of the ocean. “Where?”

Saying nothing more, Sam disappeared back into the cabin, leaving the four of them to exchange looks.

“I … I … really don’t like the crash part of that statement,” Broots mumbled unnecessarily.

Parker turned her eyes on Jarod, her blue eyes smoldering. “Did you have a part in this?”

“Of course not,” Jarod shot back. “I would never intentionally strand us out in the Pacific.”

“Strand?” Broots repeated. “I don’t like that part either.”

“Well, what the hell is going on?” Parker demanded.

“I don’t know.” Jarod looked around the small interior, before returning his eyes back to the brunette. “It’s a small plane. It looks old. It might have had too many flights.”

“Shit,” Parker cursed, stubbing out her cigarette. The plane shuddered again and she reflexively grabbed the armrests. “Last time I get talked out of taking the Centre jet.”

“Why didn’t you?” Jarod barked as the plane sputtered again.

“It was in the hanger!” she snarled.

Violently, the plane jerked again and Broots groaned as a wave of nausea wafted over him. He leaned forward in his seat, staring at his shoes. “Oh God,” he said. “Oh man.”

“Parker, if you uncuff me, maybe I can do something,” Jarod said, looking at her with desperation.

She was already shaking her head. “No, Jarod.”

“Maybe he’s right, Parker,” Sydney spoke up, shooting the woman beside him a look as he too gripped the armrests.

“Shit!” Parker cursed again, undoing her seat long enough to lean forward and uncuff him. As soon as he was free, Jarod undid his seatbelt and stood. Parker sat back in her seat, but froze when she heard someone whisper in her ear. It was static at first, but the message was certainly clear.

Her breath hitched and her arm shot out just as he passed her, gripping him by the wrist. He looked down at her in surprise.

“No,” she said firmly.

“What?”

“Sit down. Get your seatbelt back on.”

The plane rocked and Jarod stumbled against the wall, Parker’s hand still on his wrist. “Parker, I might be able to fix it.”

“Sit down!” Parker shouted, nearly frantic. “The pilot will do it.”

“Parker—”

In a blink of an eye, she whipped out her gun and aimed it at his chest. Jarod flinched in surprise and stared at her as desperation filtered in her eyes. “Get in your seat! Now!”

Jarod swallowed and slowly turned away, moving back to his seat. He lowered himself into the cushions and fastened his belt, all the while keeping his eyes on the brunette.

“Um, guys,” Broots spoke up, breathless. He looked away from the window, his face paling. “We are going down!”

All three turned to see what the tech was talking about, watching as the ocean water became closer. Jarod turned his head and met Parker’s eyes for the briefest of moments, before the nose of the plane pierced through the water like a knife through butter. A roar of chaos erupted and they were all jerked forward, Broots and Jarod yanked against their seatbelts, Parker and Sydney thrown against the wall behind their seats.

Jarod could only remember a blur of movement, the cabin doors crumbling before his eyes, before everything went black.

------
Grabbed your attenion? I hope so!

-------

“Oh God!”

She snapped her eyes open just as they all went under, swallowed up by the thick, cool water. Her first instinct was to breathe, but she fought it as she reached for her seatbelt and popped it free. Pushing off with her legs, she swam up and nearly bumped her head on the roof as she resurfaced. Gasping, she tilted her chin up and looked around.

“Broots!” she shouted, seeing him surfacing next to her. She turned her head, looking for the other two. “Broots—get Jarod. I’ll get Sydney!”

Broots made a strangled sound before he took a breath and dove back down. Parker did the same, submerging below and outstretching her hands to feel her way around. It wasn’t long before she felt contact and she fumbled around, trying to find the seatbelt. It came loose with a little persuasion, freeing the older man from its imprisonment. Grabbing his jacket, Parker hauled him up to the surface with all her might, relieved to hear him suck in air greedily.

“Sydney, are you alright?” she asked.

The older man blinked his eyes and looked around, disoriented. “We’re sinking!” His accent was thick, panic evident in his voice.

“Yes, I know!” Parker looked around, searching for Broots and Jarod. “We need to get out of here!”

A second later, Broots head popped back up, his eyes wild. “Jarod! His seatbelt!”

“Shit,” Parker hissed.

Without any hesitation, she dove back down, pushing herself off in the direction of the pretender’s seat. Broots came down with her, helping direct her to his exact location. As she reached Jarod, she was surprised to find him awake, his own hands struggling with the seatbelt latch. Parker pushed his hands away and began working on it, pulling and tugging, but it was stuck tight. Gripping it with both hands and bracing her feet on the arms of the seat, she pulled with all her might, managing to loosen it enough for Jarod to reach in his jeans pocket and withdrawal a knife. Popping it open, he went to work on the belt and cut through it within ten seconds.

Jarod didn’t waste a minute to resurface, coughing violently as he sucked in the little air that was left. Parker and Broots were not far behind him.

“Seatbelts save,” Broots croaked. “Sure!”

“Is everyone alright?” Parker shouted.

“Yes,” Sydney answered, while he struggled with the side door. “But, the door is pressured shut!”

“We need to move through the cockpit!” Jarod replied, gesturing toward the front of the plane. They all had to tilt their head back now, the water rapidly filling the last of the air pockets.

“Alright, let’s move!” Parker shouted, diving back down and swimming toward the front. She pushed her way through the crumbled cabin doors and momentarily paused at the two men that were stuck in there. She instantly knew they were dead, they didn’t have a chance.

It was hard to move in there, the entire front of the plane had taken the blunt of the hit. Everything was crumbled, which was lucky for them, for the front window was cracked and gaping open, giving them enough room to squeeze through.

Once she resurfaced, Parker gasped in air and looked around, feeling a great sense of dread to see the vast open ocean all around her. Next to her, Sydney and Broots popped up, followed by Jarod a few seconds later.

“We’re going to need this,” Jarod said breathlessly, indicating a bright yellow package. He swam a little ways away from the sinking wreckage and pulled a cord, the inflatable boat popping open within seconds.

“Oh, thank God!” Broots gasped.

They all climbed aboard—no easy task—and collapsed with exhaustion against the round, yellow sides. For a moment, no one spoke, each reflecting on the events that had just transpired. It had all happened too fast, none of them knew what to think.

But, slowly the desperation of the situation began to settle in.

“Are we going to die?” Broots voiced.

All three looked at him, their faces pinched with annoyance. Broots looked between them, before he swallowed and added, “What about Debbie? Oh God, what will happen to Debbie?”

“Broots, we aren’t going to die,” Sydney replied, his voice settling to its usual composure, which contradicted his haggard appearance. “We need to remain calm. Someone will be looking for us.”

Jarod moved his eyes up from the disappearing plane to the older man. “We are going to drift a great deal before someone even realizes we’re gone.”

Broots paled, looking between them. “Oh God, we ARE going to die!”

“Broots, shut up!” Parker snarled. “Before I make you shark bait.”

“Sharks!” Broots squeaked, looking around.

“Shut up!”

“Hey, look!” Jarod interrupted, pointing. In the water, a bright red box was bobbing among the waves, spewed from the wreckage. “I’m going to get it.”

“Jarod, be careful,” Sydney advised, watching the pretender carefully slip over the side and back into the water.

“Watch out for sharks,” Broots mumbled, darting his eyes around and receiving a heated glare from Miss Parker.

Once he retrieved it, Jarod began to swim back, struggling with the large plastic box. With the help of the others, they got it into the boat and Jarod fought to get his tired body up as well. As soon as he settled, they all crowded around, curious to see what was inside. Matches, a blanket, flares, and a first aid kit were tucked inside.

Miss Parker flopped back against the side of the boat with a huff. “Perfect. We can make a fire in our rubber boat and eat Alcohol Prep Pads.”

“What did you expect to be in here? A cruise liner?” Jarod shot at her and then turned his head back to gaze at the items. “These might save our lives.”

“Right,” Parker sighed, reaching in her soggy suit pocket and pulling out her silver cigarette case. “Oh nice,” she seethed as water dripped out of it. She opened it up and inspected the damage, shaking her head with disgust. “It just keeps getting better.”

“Not having your nicotine is the least of your worries, Miss Parker,” Jarod said evenly.

“Shut up, before I fire a flare up your ass,” she shot back.

“You two, knock it off,” Sydney cut in, looking between them. “Bickering will get us nowhere.”

“Look around you, Syd,” Parker hissed, throwing up her hands. “We ARE nowhere.”

“Let’s just relax, alright? Let’s save our energy.”

They all exchanged looks before they settled down to wait, falling into a silence that would last nearly an hour. As their wet clothes began to dry, the sun overhead became unbearable. They began to get increasingly uncomfortable and slowly began to free themselves of jackets and shirts, until Parker was left in her sleeveless blouse, Sydney in his gray button-down, Broots in his Centre recycling t-shirt and Jarod in his white undershirt. It did little to dwindle the undying heat, but none of them were willing to loose anything else.

Minutes and hours slipped away at a grueling speed, occurring within a silence that was driving them all crazy. Even when they began to shift into a position where everyone could lie down with their knees bent in the middle, no one spoke. Somehow, with a world of things to say to each other, they said noting.

Jarod craned his head back and watched as the sky began to darken. He frowned grimly, concerned for them and the night to come. Thoughts were bouncing around his head like rapid fire—thoughts that were once of escape were now of survival. Not just his, but the three others as well.

Then he thought of what had happened on the plane, the way Parker’s hand had snaked out and grabbed his, the way her eyes had a fleeting look of desperation and panic. She would not let him go into the cockpit, and now both pilot and Sam were dead. How did she know? And why did she save his life?

He turned his head and eyed her, seeing she had her head leaned back and her eyes closed. The top three buttons of her blouse were unbuttoned and her collar bone glimmered in the diminishing light of the sun, and within such a relaxed position, she almost looked natural ... like being stranded at sea was just an everyday thing for her.

His heart swelled at the sight of her and he wasn’t entirely sure why. She had saved his life and probably didn’t even realize it.

With that thought, he lowered his head and closed his eyes, hoping to sleep through the long night to come.


------

“I’m starving.”

“You’re all starving, you idiot,” Parker snarled.

Jarod blinked his eyes open, greeted by intense sunlight overhead. Slowly sitting up, he groaned from aching muscles at having been in the position too long and gave the tech and woman a quick look.

“Morning sunshine,” Parker seethed, narrowing her eyes at Jarod.

Jarod looked down at Sydney next to him, seeing that he was still out, before turning his eyes back to the woman. “Glad to see the night put you in a better mood,” Jarod replied sarcastically.

“Well, you know me, always the optimist.”

“Indeed.”

Sydney stirred at their voices and slowly sat up with great effort. He cleared his throat and looked around the boat, before settling back against the side of it. “What time is it?”

Broots lifted his wrist and shook it, before he sighed. “My watch is out. And it’s supposed to be waterproof.”

Jarod squinted up at the sky, then answered, “Well, my guess would be about 8 or 9, but like I said … that’s just a guess.”

Broots heaved a sigh and sat back, pressing a hand to his head. “I can’t take this constant rocking of the waves. I’m going to be sick again.” He dropped his hands and looked at the others, desperation in his eyes. “Couldn’t we just send up a flare? Maybe someone will see.”

“Oh yes,” Parker replied, “We can alert the seagulls!”

“Seagulls?” Jarod repeated, looking up. His face lit when he spotted one fly by and he sat up with a grin. “Seagulls!” Spinning in his seat, he let out a quick laugh to see in the distance a strip of land. “An island!”

“Oh thank God!” Broots exclaimed, turning around as well. “We’re saved!”

They began to paddle with their hands, the current helping them along as they eagerly headed toward the island. But, as they began to get closer, the large strip of land began to look less and less promising. Wild, green vegetation covered the wooded area just after its sandy shores, tall, jagged rocks behind them—not a sign of civilization anywhere. It was a desert island.

“I’m guessing this place doesn’t have a Starbucks,” Parker griped as the bottom of their boat scraped against land.

Jarod stepped over the edge and into the shin-deep water, wading up to the sandy beach as he drifted his eyes around the area. The others soon followed him and after a moment, he turned his head to exchange looks with his three hunters.

“Well, our chances of survival have just tripled,” Jarod replied.

“And what about our chances of being found?” Parker asked.

Jarod chewed on his lip as he looked around, deep in thought. “We should build a fire. One large enough a passing boat or plane will see. Then, we should look around, find some food and shelter.”

“Oh man,” Broots gulped. “We’re going to be here for a while, aren’t we?”

His only response was three heated looks.

----
Feedback is my fuel. FEED ME! :)

-----

Jarod slid the matchbox open and frowned at its contents—at the two matches that were tucked inside. Realizing he had limited chances, he carefully removed one, eyed the pile of wood and weeds, and then struck the match. The small stems of the dry grass crippled and burned, but within seconds, they burnt out.

“Shit,” Jarod cursed, sitting back on his haunches. A shadow passed over him and he tilted his head up to look at the brunette.

“Is man having trouble creating fire?” Parker asked with a tilt of her head.

“I only have one match left.”

“Gee, that’s tough.”

Jarod glared at her for a moment and then dropped his eyes to stare at the stacked wood helplessly. “I suppose I could do it the hard way. With stones and sticks …”

Flick. Flick. Swish.

At the sound, Jarod looked up, his face dropping as he watched her light a cigarette. Releasing the lighter button, she held it out and grinned down at him around the stick in her mouth.

He stood abruptly and yanked it away from her. “Your cigarettes are dry, I see.”

“Mmm,” she murmured, her only response.

“You could have told me you had your lighter on you sooner.”

“And what—skip this fun? Never,” she said, mirroring his words the previous day.

Jarod shook his head and then lowered himself back to his task. As he moved around the pile, lighting as much as he could, he said almost hesitantly, “Why didn’t you let me pilot the plane?”

Parker gave him a quick look before she moved over to a large piece of drift wood, inspecting it uninterestedly. It was a moment later when she answered, “I thought you would try to escape.”

“Liar.”

She spun to look at him, her blue eyes wide. “Don’t analyze me, Boy Wonder, and don’t you dare try to make this something that it’s not. I went with my instincts, plain and simple.”

“Y’know, with a little nicer attitude, this experience might be endurable.”

“Go to hell, Lab Rat.”

Jarod looked at her sharply. “What is your problem?”

“My problem?” she repeated loudly, her eyes wide. “You want to know my PROBLEM?” She wheeled around and threw her arms in the air, indicating her surroundings. “THIS is my problem!”

“Parker—”

“I’m stuck on a God-forsaken island,” she went on, “With two and half men, a water-jammed gun, three cigarettes and a ruined three-hundred-dollar pair of shoes. Not to mention, my best sweeper is DEAD.” She paused for a moment, her face softening, her shoulders dropping as if it had just dawned on her. “Sam is dead …”

She wordlessly lowered herself onto the drift wood, the cigarette in her hand suddenly forgotten, and Jarod gazed at her with concern. For a moment, she just gazed at the sand around her bare feet, unmoving, before Jarod bravely said, “I’m sorry.”

Parker snorted bitterly. “I’m sure you are, Jarod.”

“I am,” he insisted and she lifted her gaze to meet his.

“Sam was a good man,” she whispered. “Now, he’s dead.” She held eye contact, firmly saying, “Because of you.”

He flinched. “What?”

“You hadn’t been out in the middle of God knows where …”

“I didn’t ask for you to come here.”

“You should have stayed put—where you BELONG. Then we wouldn’t have had to chase your sorry ass all over the damn pacific, crash and then stay on a shit-strip of an island.”

“Y’know, I might have been able to fly the plane. I could have fixed it.”

“Bullshit!” she snapped, tossing her cigarette away angrily. “You know as well as I do there was no fixing it. We were going down no matter what.”

“I could have tried.”

“No, you couldn’t have!”

“Yes, I could have!”

“Then, instead of Sam, I would have lost YOU!”

She flinched at her own words and quickly looked away, gazing at the rolling waves lapping at the beach. Her eyes bore into the teal water and the muscle in her jaw twitched, before she added, “And without you …” She paused to take a breath and turned her eyes on him. “Without you, I’m no use to the Centre.”

Jarod blinked. Something inside him deflated and he gave a wry laugh. “Right,” he replied, turning back to the growing fire. “The Centre. That’s what everything is about, isn’t it?”

Parker stared at him, her face etched like marble. “It’s all we have.”

Jarod looked back up at her, but before he could answer, Broots and Sydney appeared from out of the tree lines, carting large armfuls of wood. Once they had dropped their bundles next to the fire, Broots flopped down in the sand while Sydney remained standing, gazing at the flames.

“It’s looking good,” Sydney commented.

“We’ll need to maintain it,” Jarod replied. He looked up, meeting the eyes of each face. “We’ll have to take shifts to make sure it doesn’t go out.” After their nods, Jarod pushed himself to his feet and heaved a sigh. “We should probably go in search for food.”

“Yes! Food, I’m starved!” Broots piped in.

“Let’s split up, but don’t move too far from the beach,” Jarod said, looking between Sydney and Parker. He then dropped his eyes to the tech. “You can have the first fire shift. Just make sure it doesn’t go out.”

“Sure,” Broots replied.

“While you’re at it, Gilligan,” Parker said to Broots as she passed, “You can start on the cocoanut radio.”

“The professor.”

She stopped and tossed a look over her shoulder. “What?”

Broots cleared his throat. “It was … er … the professor that made the inventions.”

Parker gazed at him for another beat before she rolled her eyes and walked away. Broots caught Sydney giving him that half-smile. “What?” Broots asked him, before the older man followed after the pretender and brunette, still smiling.

-----

“Jarod, wait up,” Sydney huffed, struggling to gain on the younger man’s wide strides. Jarod gave him a quick look and continued walking without faltering his gate, but Sydney went on talking regardless of his protégé’s little interest, “I want to talk to you about yesterday.”

“What about it?” Jarod asked, looking straight ahead.

“I just want you to know … that my actions were done purely out of good intentions. I only want what’s best for you.”

Jarod turned his head and gazed at the man. “By putting me back in the Centre?”

“Jarod, the world is a cruel place—”

Jarod barked in wry laughter and abruptly turned away. “That’s like the pot calling the kettle black.”

“I’m just worried about you,” Sydney continued. “What if one of your pretends got you killed?”

“If I were to go back to the Centre, I would surely die.”

“Jarod—”

“Sydney,” Jarod snapped, cutting him off, “This conversation is too little, too late, and just in case you haven’t noticed, we’re on an island. So, let’s save it for AFTER we’re out of here.” Jarod paused and then added, “Oh, and you’re horrible at apologies.”

Sydney came to a stop and watched with a frown as the younger man walked away. After a moment, he sighed and veered his direction, pushing his way into the thick wooded area in search of anything edible.

----

“When the night … has come,” Broots sang to himself, poking a stick in the fire, “And the land is dark. And the moon … is the only … light we’ll see.” Embers lifted out of the large pile of wood, drifting through the air and slowly dimming to nothing. The fire crackled comfortingly, the only witness, so he had thought, to his rendition of “Stand By Me.”

He went on, tone death and with his eyes closed. “No, I won’t! Be afraid! No, I won’t … be afraid! Just as long, as you stand—”

“Broots!”

“Holy Jesus!”

He spun his head around, finding Parker standing over him with a predatory gleam in her eye. Behind her, Sydney and Jarod stood, looking a little more empathetic toward the balding man. Shifting his eyes back to the brunette, Broots gazed at her wide-eyed and then cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Uh, how did your—”

“Ask, and you WILL have something to be afraid of,” she retorted, before lifting out her hand, revealing a handkerchief full of berries. “Eat.”

“Oh, thank you!” he gasped, gratefully taking the bundle.

The three lowered themselves down in the sand several feet away from the heat of the fire, Broots taking their example and doing the same. They all fell into a silence as they ate, each gazing into the fire and thinking the same thing: survival.

It wasn’t until the sun began to dip low in the sky, casting an orange glow, did they break the silence, and Jarod was the first to break it.

“We should make some kind of shelter.”

“Wonderful,” Parker griped. “I’m going to have to sleep with you three.”

“Could be worse,” Broots spoke up. “We could have been stranded here with Mr. Lyle.” He laughed a little, but quieted when the three just glared at him. He cleared his throat. “Too soon?”

“Broots—shut up.”

“Yes ma’am.”

---

Broots woke with a start the next morning and stared at the blanket they had put up for an overhang the previous night. Turning in the sand, he realized he was the only one still lying there and he shot up to look around. Sydney was standing by the fire, tossing more wood into its consuming flames. Jarod was standing in the water, with his pants rolled to his knees, and was looking out with his hands on his hips. And Parker was no where in sight.

Broots rolled out from their little make-shift shelter and brushed the sand off his clothes, before he walked over to Sydney’s side. “G’morning,” he mumbled.

“Morning Broots,” Sydney greeted. “How did you sleep?”

“Truthfully?” Broots asked, rubbing his neck. He made a show of looking around. “Where’s Miss Parker?”

“Trying to find a suitable urinal,” Sydney smirked.

Broots snorted. “I’d love to see what she came up with.”

“Would you, now?” she said behind him. Broots jumped and spun to face her, and instantly gave her a sheepish smile. She just tilted her head at him, her mouth in a firm line.

“Ah, Miss Parker,” Broots began uncomfortably, “Did you sleep well?”

As if he had to ask; she was quite the sight compared to her usual sharp exterior. Her blouse was untucked and partly-buttoned, her hair and make-up were disarrayed, and her mid-thigh length skirt was wrinkled and beyond repair. Miss Parker—to put it simply—looked like a wreck.

She lifted up a hand, palm out, and briefly closed her eyes. “Spare me,” she said. “I don’t have the energy to be cruel right now.”

“That’s a blessing,” Jarod said, walking up to them.

“Can it, Captain Coconuts,” she seethed. She crossed her arms over her chest and watched the pretender with narrowed eyes as he poked the fire with a stick. “Weren’t you supposed to wake me during the night for my shift?”

Jarod gave a shrug and answered her without looking up, “I wasn’t tired. So, I decided to keep going.”

Parker exchanged a quick look with Sydney, before she decided to change the subject. “So, what now?”

“We should probably explore the island,” he said, dropping the stick he had been using into the fire. He brushed his hands together and looked up at them. “Maybe we might find something that’ll be useful.”

“Like what—a seven-eleven?”

“No,” Jarod replied heatedly. “Maybe a sign of civilization.”

“Right,” Parker sighed. “Well, while you romp through the jungle searching for life, I’ll be right here.”

“Fine,” Jarod snapped. Turning his head, he looked directly at Broots, who returned his gaze wide-eyed. “Mr. Broots, you’re with me.”

“What?” Broots barked.

Jarod didn’t bother to reply and began to walk off toward the tree lines. With a groan, Broots had no choice but to follow him.

---

“Y’know Jarod,” Broots began, struggling to keep up with him as they trudged through the thick underbrush. “I envy you.”

Jarod shot him a look over his shoulder, his eyebrows drawn together. “Why is that?”

“You are the only person that I know that can say what he wants, when he wants, to Miss Parker … and survive to tell about it.”

Jarod smirked and ducked under a low branch, before replying, “Well, there is one thing you need to know about Miss Parker: her bark is worse than her bite.”

“Yeah, but it’s a pretty mean bark.”

Jarod flashed the tech a smile and slowed his pace, allowing Broots to catch up. “Do you think we could get her a muzzle?”

“That would be swell. Maybe even a choke-collar.”

Jarod laughed. “Maybe,” he said, as he continued pushing his way through the vegetation. “Question is: how will we get it on her?”

Broots threw up his hands. “Don’t look at me!”

Their walking slowed when they came up to the edge of a river and they turned their heads upstream and downstream. Jarod put his hands on his hips and sighed.

“Which way?”

Broots flinched. “You’re asking ME?”

Jarod turned to look at him, his eyebrows raised. After a moment, Broots shrugged and mumbled, “Upstream.”

“Upstream, it is,” Jarod replied, turning and walking in the indicated direction. Broots smiled a little, squared his shoulders and followed after him.

Several minutes went by before Broots spoke again, voicing his thoughts, “I hope Debbie is okay.”

“I’m sure she is.”

“God, I hope I see her again.”

Jarod paused in his walking and gave him a look over his shoulder, his face sincere. “You will. I promise.”

Broots nodded and smiled uneasily, before continuing after him up the soft incline of the river bed. Broots watched his feet for a moment, before he commented, “Thanks, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For … y’know, the whole custody thing. I don’t know if I really got the chance to thank you for it.”

“Your welcome.”

“Being a father,” Broots commented, looking up at the blue sky with a proud smile, “It’s the best thing that’s happened to me.”

“Good,” Jarod said. “Most fathers … they take such a gift for granted.”

“I can’t imagine how.” Broots paused and strained his ears, before he asked, “Do you hear that?”

They both stopped and looked ahead, fascinated to find the river led up to a beautiful waterfall that fell from jagged rocks. They stared for a moment, before Broots whistled in appreciation.

“That’s gorgeous.”

Jarod pointed out a thin trail across the water, which led up a steep incline to a rocky ledge high above the falls. “Let’s climb up. Maybe we’ll be able to see the island better from up there.”

“You want to ... swim across?”

Jarod looked around, before giving the man a look. “I don’t see any other way.”

Broots gulped as he looked at the climb. “That’s kind of steep.”

“Are you up for it, Mr. Broots?”

“No,” he sighed, “But, that’s never stopped me.”

Jarod gave him a small smile, before he jerked his head in the direction. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Jarod carefully waded into the water, closely followed by Broots, and began to swim across the river that felt good against their sun-assaulted skin. They were halfway across when Broots felt something brush against his back and he yelped in surprise.

“Oh my god!” he shouted, doggy paddling as hard as he could after Jarod. “Gator!” he squeaked. “I think there’s a gator!”

“A what?”

“An alligator!” Broots shouted.

Jarod reached the other side and climbed up the bank, spinning around to pull Broots up with him. Both men stared at the water intently, waiting for movement. Then they saw it, a long, dark form drifting over the surface of the water.

It was a log.

Jarod frowned at Broots, who gave him a sheepish smile.

“C’mon,” Jarod grumbled, turning around and starting for the trail.

They began their ascent, carefully climbing up to the top to the rocky ledge above. Broots struggled to keep close behind, praying that his grip or his footing would not slip. Luckily, they both made the long climb safely and found themselves standing high above the water and most of the trees.

Moving closer to the ledge, Jarod could make out the ocean above the large vast cluster of green foliage, looking like a blue blanket disappearing into oblivion. Jarod drifted his eyes over it, feeling a little bit of dread to see such a vastness, when he stilled.

His breath hitched. “Broots.”

Broots looked up from the waterfall beneath them and gave Jarod a sideways look. “What?”

“Broots—there’s a ship.”

“A ship?” Broots exclaimed, moving next to him. He squinted into the distance and then gasped when he spotted it moving toward the island. “Oh my god! A ship!”

“We need to get down there!” Jarod exclaimed, turning back for the trail. “C’mon!”

“Don’t have to tell me twice!”

---
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---

She growled as she struggled to work the lighter, but after the umpteenth time of flicking it with a now sore thumb, she tossed it angrily into the fire. “Dammit,” she cursed. “It just keeps getting better!”

Sydney looked at her from where he sat in the sand beside her, offering, “Miss Parker, it is just a lighter.”

“It was my favorite,” she snapped, looking at him with heated eyes. “And I bet Jarod knew that.”

“I’m sure he didn’t do it on purpose. He had to build a large enough fire to—”

“Oh, spare me, Freud,” she sighed. She scooted closer to the fire and reached for a stick, pulling it out of the flames and putting her cigarette to its blazing tip. Replacing the branch back in the fire, she returned to her spot next to Sydney and happily puffed away.

Sydney frowned at her for a moment, before he turned his eyes back to the water’s rolling waves. “I thought you were going to quit.”

“Bad habits die hard,” Parker murmured, tilting her head back and exhaling a puff of smoke. “Jarod’s proof of that.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on him. He has helped us more times than any of us would like to admit.”

“I’m hard on him because I despise him,” Parker seethed. “He may have helped me find answers, but he’s ruined more shoes than I can count, gave me an ulcer, disrupts my sleeping patterns, and dangles my mother in front of me like a carrot on a string.”

“Parker—”

“Don’t defend him, Syd,” she interrupted.

She got up and brushed the sand off her clothes, and then stomped toward the water, leaving the older man to watch her leave with a frown.

“She was such a happy girl,” he mumbled to himself.

---

They ran through the underbrush, dodging trees and stumps in their haste to reach the water’s edge. Excitement and anxiety would not let them slow down until they finally reached the beach on the other side of the island and both men broke through the woods waving their arms wildly.

“Hey! Over here!” they both shouted in union.

As the boat neared closer, Jarod blinked and slowly lowered his arms. It was a large, brown fishing boat that looked a few decades old, with two tall spoke stacks and a flag flapping from the ropes. For a moment, he just stood there as Broots continued to shout for their attention.

“They are coming!” Broots laughed. “We’re saved!”

“Broots …” Jarod said, raising a hand toward the other man.

“Help!” the man shouted. “Over here!”

“Broots,” Jarod said more firmly, grabbing his arm and pulling him back. “Broots, I don’t think we want their help.”

“What?” Broots asked, looking at him in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Jarod looked pointedly at the boat and Broots turned his head to follow his line of sight, for the first time spotting the flag that flapped above its mast. Broots sucked in a breath.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Broots mumbled.

“C’mon!” Jarod shouted, tugging him back toward the trees.

“You’ve REALLY got to be kidding me!” Broots said again, near hysteria, as he allowed himself to be pulled to cover.

Once hidden, they peered out behind the trees and watched as the boat got closer and closer, now able to make out the two men on the deck with large automatic weapons.

“Pirates?” Broots exclaimed. “This is the freaking twenty-first century! There are no pirates!”

“Pirates aren’t all peg-legs and parrots, Mr. Broots,” Jarod hissed.

“Maybe they will agree to take us back to the main land,” the tech suggested, turning his head to look at the pretender. “Maybe they’re nice pirates.”

“Yes, and those guns are just to ward off the naughty ones,” Jarod said sarcastically. “Think about it, Broots. If you have a boat full of possibly stolen goods and illegal weapons, would you take four stranded idiots back to civilization?”

“I … er …” Broots began. He gulped and answered, “Maybe.”

“Right,” Jarod snapped. Jarod turned his head and watched as the boat slowed and dropped its anchor. “Shit, they’re coming to land.”

Broots gaped wide-eyed for a moment, his breath quickening as his pulse sped up. He licked his lips and whispered, “Do you think they spotted us?”

Around them, the vegetation suddenly popped and exploded with spraying bullets, and both men ducked in surprise, Broots letting out a surprised squeak.

“Does that answer your question?” Jarod replied hastily, as he wheeled around. “Broots, run!”

“What?” Broots barked, spinning and taking off after the fleeing man. More bullets followed them and Broots let out a surprised shout as the shots echoed throughout the island.

---

Sydney looked up in surprise and met the eyes of Miss Parker from the water’s edge.

“Was that gunfire?” she asked.

The psychiatrist slowly stood up and turned toward the island, straining his ears to hear. Shortly after, they heard more.

“We’re not alone.”

---

“Jarod!” Broots shouted. “Wait up!”

Jarod jumped over a log and looked over his shoulder briefly, catching sight of the stumbling tech. He slowed his pace a little and ducked behind a tree, pulling Broots with him as he passed. Sliding to the forest floor, both men huddled together, struggling to catch their breath.

Broots opened his mouth to speak, but Jarod hushed him.

They waited for what seemed like forever, struggling to hear any sound that would clue them in on where their pursuers were. After a long moment of silence, Jarod turned his head and looked at the cowering man beside him.

“Let’s split up,” Jarod whispered.

Broots face paled. “What?”

“I will try to lead them around this area. I want you to head back to where Sydney and Parker are. You need to warn them.”

“I … I can’t do that.”

“Broots, you have to.”

“I … don’t know. I run like a girl and I’m as quiet as an elephant with bells on. I have no coordination and …”

“Broots,” Jarod snapped, interrupting his nervous rant. “You HAVE to do this.”

“W-what do I do when I get to them?”

“Tell them to stay hidden,” Jarod replied. He shot a look around, checking their surroundings, before he continued, “I will meet up with you once I lose them.”

“O … kay,” Broots mumbled.

“Wait a little while before getting up,” Jarod whispered. “And be careful!”

Broots nodded numbly and watched as the pretender sprang up to his feet and darted off in the direction they came from. He waited, listening to Jarod’s fading footsteps before he slowly pushed himself to his own feet. He was about to take off when he froze, hearing a loud CRACK sound, followed by a pained shout.

Broots gasped and spun his head around. “Jarod,” he whispered.

---

Sydney and Parker stared at the trees, both unconsciously holding their breaths as they waited for any indication that they hadn’t imagined it all. After a moment, Sydney took a step forward, but was quickly stopped by Parker’s hand on his arm.

“Where are you going?”

Sydney looked at her, his face grim. “Someone is shooting! Jarod and Broots could be in trouble.”

“Sydney, where do you think Jarod and Broots will be running to? We can’t just leave here.” She shot the burning pile of wood a quick look, adding, “And what about the fire?”

“Parker, there’s gunfire!”

“Yes, and what do you suggest we fight them with? I only have four shots in a rusted gun and you have your psychoanalytical abilities.” Parker took a breath and then looked around. “We’ll need a plan.”

---

Jarod wasn’t sure what had hit him, but he suddenly found himself sprawled across the ground, looking up at a man with an automatic rifle. His face was leathered from the sun and dark hair grew wildly out from behind his head and from his jaw. A yellowed smile split his face as he raised the gun, aiming it straight at Jarod’s chest.

“Get up.”

Keeping eye contact with the gun-yielding man, Jarod slowly pushed himself to his feet and put his hands up in surrender. For a moment, the man just studied him before he asked, “What are you doing here?”

The back of Jarod’s head began to pulse and he felt a little faint from the hit, but Jarod struggled to ignore it. “My plane crashed,” Jarod finally answered.

“Where’s the other one?”

Jarod willed his face to remain like stone. “What other one?”

The man jerked his gun at him, gritting his teeth. “Don’t you lie! Where is he?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where?!” he shouted angrily.

“Here!” Broots said from behind him. The man turned just in time to see the thick branch swinging at his face, cracking him in the nose. He hit the ground like a bag of bricks, bleeding and groaning.

“Whoa!” Broots laughed, looking up at Jarod with pride. “Did you see that?”

“Broots!” Jarod shouted, pointing at the still conscious man. “Hit him again!”

“Oh!” Broots said, snapping out of it. Gripping the branch with both hands, Broots swung down on the man several times, before the man sank into unconsciousness with a final groan.

Straightening back up, Broots wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and gave a nervous laugh. “I’m a badass.”

Jarod crooked an eyebrow.

---

Parker kept her gun at her side and pushed through the vegetation, her blue eyes searching the area. Sydney followed close behind, gripping the branch with both hands. After a moment, Sydney grabbed her arm and they both stopped.

“What?” Parker snapped.

“Someone is coming,” Sydney whispered.

Parker held her breath, listening to the footsteps of one person. They were faint, but were quickly approaching, and she ducked behind a tree, dragging Sydney with her. She pressed her back against the bark and gave Sydney a sideways look, seeing that he was holding the stick up at his shoulders and was looking rather awkward. Tucking her gun in her skirt, she took the branch from him with a quick jerk.

She waited for just the right moment before she stepped out from behind the tree and swung. She hit the man in the face, knocking him backward with a loud thud.

“Ouch!”

“Broots!” Parker gasped, looking down at him. “What the hell?”

Broots sat up and pressed his hand to his face. “You hit me!”

“Well, yeah!” she barked, reaching down and hauling him up to his feet. “Running around like idiot will get you hit!” She looked around, before pinning the man with her eyes. “What the hell is going on? And where’s Jarod?”

Broots just stared at her.

---
Thank you for the great feedback! Now gimme more! :)

---


As Jarod crouched in the bushes, he was beginning to think that all of it had been a bad idea. He was outnumbered, had no weapon and no knowledge of the surrounding terrain. He was—to put it mildly—screwed.

He heard movement to his left and he quickly turned his head, his eyes searching the forest for the source of the noise. He saw nothing, which concerned him more than if he had, and he carefully slid further back into the cover of the vegetation.

He held his breath and waited. The trees shifted slightly in the light breeze; the call of an unnamable bird echoed in the distance. Life on the island, despite everything, kept on going. Jarod swallowed and looked around one last time before he sprang to his feet and ran. He heard movement behind him, surprised movement, possibly a squirrel, but he didn’t dare turn to look. He just kept running, heading in the direction of where the others were and hoping he wasn’t about to lead the bad guys right to them.

It wasn’t until he had a good distance behind him did he finally risk looking back. His eyes searched the forest for his pursuers, for any sign that they were following him. He was relieved to see no one, but that feeling was short lived. He heard the crunching of twigs and vines before he felt himself falling, feeling the sting of limbs hitting him on his way down. And then with a painful shout, he hit the bottom.

---

“What?” she barked.

“I said there are pirates!” Broots said louder.

She flinched and shoved her palm at him. “I heard you, you idiot. I just can’t believe it.”

“Well, it’s true. Jarod said he was going to try to lose them and then he’d meet us back here.”

“Of course Lab Rat will play the Dudley-Do-Right thing,” Parker griped. “And when he gets here, what do we do?”

“I … ah … don’t know.”

Parker closed her eyes and sighed, turning away. Sydney took a step toward the tech, asking him, “How many are there?”

“We saw three, but there could be more.”

“Perfect!” Parker wailed, throwing up her hands.

“Miss Parker, shoosh!” Broots hushed, looking around.

She spun and glared at him, but said nothing. Sydney turned to her, his face tight with concern. “Parker, we should probably go look for him.”

“No reason for us to be Pirate Bait as well. Boy Wonder can handle it.”

“We’re armed,” Sydney said, gesturing toward her gun. “Jarod is not. We need to find him.”

“Sydney, that was automatic gun fire we heard. I have a rusting 9mm.”

“You’re an excellent shot.”

She scowled at him. “Flattery will get you no where.”

“Parker, please.”

She looked at him for a moment longer, hating the desperation that glittered in his eyes. She gritted her teeth, willing herself to say no, to refuse, but when she opened her mouth, “Fine,” was what she said.

“Thank you,” Sydney sighed.

“God, I hate you both,” she snarled as she marched passed them.

---

Jarod groaned and lifted his head up from the dirt, blinking his eyes in rapid succession to try to get them to focus. He looked around the darkness that he had been engulfed in and felt the sensation of dread settle in his gut. The sensation heightened when he tried to push himself up off his stomach and felt the white hot pain shoot through his arm. He hissed and immediately stopped moving, squeezing his eyes shut until the pain subsided. Once it did, he sighed and rolled onto his back slowly, and stared up at the hole he had fallen through. It had to have been eight feet up where there was a small indication of breakage through the intertwining vines and limbs. He would have guessed it was a natural sink hole, but upon looking around, he realized that the walls of the hole were nearly squared off.

Someone had dug the hole. But, for what?

Jarod slowly sat up and held his wrist to his chest, getting a better look at his surroundings. It was almost too dark to see anything, but from the sun poking in and out of the trees and the foliage covering the hole, he could just make out the brown, dirt edges, and debris covering the floor.

And that’s when he spotted something. It was mostly buried and barely recognizable, sitting in the far corner of the hole. He scooted toward it and leaned closer, warily reaching out a hand to wipe away dirt.

What he suspected was true; it was a human skull.

He pulled his hand back and scooted away until his back pressed against the opposite wall. He breathed heavily through his mouth, his eyes darting side to side as he thought over the situation. He tilted his head back and gazed at the vegetation above him, trying to formulate a plan.

He was just about to try and stand when he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps. There were a few of them, and they were heading his way.

Jarod pressed himself hard against the wall and involuntarily held his breath.

---

Broots stopped and stared at the ground with eyes wide like eagle eggs. “Parker,” he whispered, and both the brunette and psychiatrist stopped and turned to look at him. The tech pointed a finger and gasped, “Look!”

In union, Parker and Sydney turned to look at where he was pointing, their eyes drifting around in confusion. “What the hell are we looking at, Broots?”

“It’s …” he began, “It’s … a snake.”

Parker blinked and then walked over to stand next to him. For a moment, she made a show of trying to see what he was seeing, but turned and slapped the back of his head.

“Ouch!” Broots whined.

“You idiot,” she seethed through tightly clenched teeth. “We have pirates out after us and you’re scared of snakes?”

“It could be poisonous!” Broots snarled back.

Parker grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him roughly toward her, saying in a dangerously low voice, “I have more venom than ANY snake out here, so the only one you have to worry about is me. You got that Broots?”

“Hey, you two,” Sydney said, “Stop your arguing.”

Parker shoved him away, watching the tech as he straightening his shirt with a scowl. “You’re such a moron,” she added for good measure.

“Parker, shut up,” Sydney barked.

Parker looked at him, surprised. “What did you just say?”

“Listen!”

Sydney turned and stared off into the distance, straining his ears to hear. Parker and Broots did the same, drifting their eyes around cautiously.

Then they heard it; a hushed call, “Hello?”

All three turned their heads to their left, looking around for the source.

“Psst … Sydney, Miss Parker … Broots!”

They all exchanged looks before they headed in the direction, eagerly looking around. “Jarod?” Sydney called back, trying to keep his voice low.

“Yeah, down here!”

“Down where?”

“Here!”

They came up to the thick weeds and pushed them aside, discovering the hole with slight surprise. All three leaned forward, peering into it and finding Jarod staring back up at them.

“Is this your plan?” Parker said with a smirk, the first one to recover from the sight of it all. “Being a gopher until the heat dies down?”

“I fell in,” Jarod said needlessly.

“Gee, that sucks.”

“We’ll get you out of there,” Sydney called.

“I sprained my wrist,” Jarod replied, looking down at the arm he still held to his chest. He slowly rose to his feet with the help of his other hand and frowned at the three looking down at him. “I don’t know how I will get out of here by myself.”

Parker turned to Broots and slapped him on the shoulder. “Get down there and hoist him up.”

“Me?” Broots barked, looking at her. “Why me?”

“Because, you’re the most physically capable out of the three of us.”

Broots looked between them and then shook his head. “I beg to differ.”

“Down. Now, Broots.”

“You just want me to …”

“Now!”

“Fine! Alright!” Broots sighed, throwing up his hands. He turned himself around and slowly began to lower himself over the edge, grabbing for limbs and vines to aid in his climb.

Suddenly, the surrounding area exploded with gun fire. Parker and Sydney ducked in surprise, and Broots, startled by the sudden ambush, lost his grip and fell the rest of the way, landing on his back with a loud thud. Jarod immediately went to him and helped him up, then both tilted their heads up to ground level above them, desperately seeking out the other two.

Parker cursed and pressed herself against a tree, lifting her gun up to her shoulder. She tossed a look over at Sydney, seeing that he was laying flat on his stomach under a thick cluster of bushes, before she leaned around the tree to look around the area. She couldn’t see anyone and had no indication of where the shots came from, and she cursed again, ducking herself back behind the tree.

She caught the eyes of Sydney and shook her head gravely. He just frowned in return.

“Sydney? Miss Parker?” Broots called.

Parker shot a look at the foliage covering the hole, praying he’d be quiet.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, before he was hushed by Jarod.

Parker shook her head, silently cursing him, before she heard movement beside her, and she turned her head to watch in amazement as a man stepped out of his hiding. He wasn’t looking at her but the weeds that were covering the abyss that Broots and Jarod had fallen into, and he began to move quietly toward the edge, his large black gun held out in front of him. She watched his profile as he smiled at the two trapped down there and raised his gun menacingly.

“Hello,” the man said, his voice rough like sandpaper. He aimed his rifle, his finger on the trigger.

Parker sucked in a breath and pulled out her own gun, eyeing it and then the man, before she did the only thing she could have done.

She lifted her arm and fired.

The pirate’s body spasmed as the bullet punctured through his back, and there was a moment where he just teetered there, before he fell forward.

Jarod and Broots quickly jumped out of the way and watched the man hit the ground with a sickening thud. They stared at the body for a moment in stunned silence, before they tilted their heads back and looked at the brunette now standing at the edge.

“Grab his gun and let’s go,” she said emotionless.

The two gazed at her, before Jarod moved first, bending down and sliding the weapon out from under the dead pirate. After handing it up, Jarod turned to the tech expectantly, and Broots moved to help hoist him up. With a great effort on all their parts, Jarod was pulled up to safety and Broots clumsily climbed up after him, with the aide of Sydney and Parker half way up.

“We need to move,” Parker said, looking around. “The others had to have heard the gunshots.”

“Where do we go?” Broots asked, shaking his head.

“Their ship.”

All turned to look at Jarod and he returned their gazes steadily.

“What?” Parker barked.

“The only way off the island is their ship. We’re going to steal it.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Parker asked, her hands on her hips. “You think they just left it unguarded?”

Jarod lifted the large black rifle up with his good hand and eyed it up and down, and Parker leaned back a little, surprise written on her face.

“Execution is not your style,” she said.

“Neither is yours,” he replied smoothly, looking at her. “But, it seems we all have to do what we have to do in order to survive.”

She stared at him for a moment, processing his words, before she reached over and took the gun from him, offering him hers. He took it with slight hesitation, looking into her face for an explanation. She answered him with, “You can shoot a handgun with one hand.”

Jarod nodded and tucked the gun in his pants, before he looked at the other two men. “Alright, let’s do this. Either we get off this island … or die trying.”

Broots cleared his throat and looked at them nervously. “Is … ah … that our only options?”

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