Fic: Primatech 815 - Ch. 7
Title: Primatech 815
Author: starrdust411
Fandom: Heroes (Crossover with Lost)
Characters: Ando, Bennet, Claire, Claude, Hiro, Isaac, Peter, Matt, Micah, Mohinder, Niki, Simone, Sylar (more to come)
Rating: R
Summary: A plane crash unites a group of strangers.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Lost.
Warnings: AU, Violence, Action/Adventure, Drug use, Het, Slash, Crossover/Fusion
Chapter 1| Chapter 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4| Chapter 5| Chapter 6|
Chapter 7
"So Gabriel is Sylar?" Peter said thoughtfully. "I sort of figured as much."
The two men had approached him late at night with the news. Peter didn't bother to ask why they hadn't told him about all this earlier that day since it was obvious that they wanted only him to hear. The later in the day they told him; the less likely it would be that any of the other survivors would be listening in on their conversation.
"Really?" Sylar smirked. "Because yesterday you were ready to kill Mohinder because you thought he was Audrey's prisoner."
Peter frowned at the other man's comment, crossing his arms over his chest angrily. "That was until I noticed the bandages around your wrists," the young man clarified. "Luckily, only two people saw the handcuffs."
"But now everyone knows that there was an armed U.S. Marshal on the plane," Mohinder sighed wearily. "That gunshot must have been heard by everyone on the beach, so if they hadn't known about the firearm before, they know now."
Peter could tell just by looking at the other man that he was still feeling upset over Audrey's death and the young nurse probably would have felt more sympathy for him if he hadn't tried to hide a murderer among their group of survivors. Words couldn't describe the feeling of dread that had come over him when Mohinder had informed him that Sylar wasn't just some criminal, but a serial killer. Peter shuddered at the very idea of Sylar attacking one of the other survivors.
"I really wish you had come to me earlier," Peter groused, rubbing his temples.
"Why?" Sylar snapped. "What are you, twenty one? Twenty two?"
"Twenty six," he corrected.
"Well, why should a grown man turn to a child for help?"
The nurse frowned at the serial killer. Sylar wasn't exactly making a good impression on him, not that punching him in the face and stepping on his chest were working in his favor. "Well for the past four days, everyone on this beach has been looking to me for guidance," he told him dryly. "And if they find out who Sylar is and what he did, it's just going to cause a panic."
"That's pretty much the exact same thing I said two days ago," Sylar said, rolling his eyes as he turned to walk away from the other two men.
Mohinder started to follow him, but Peter quickly grabbed his upper arm, stopping him in his tracks.
"Matt's a cop," he whispered to the Indian man. "I think we should tell him about all this as well."
"I suppose you're right," he whispered back. "Peter. I'm truly sorry about this. I wanted to tell you... but I was hoping that we'd be rescued by now."
"Yeah," he shrugged. "We all were."
Mohinder smiled weakly at him, about to say something else, but he was suddenly cut off as a loud crash came from the fuselage. The two men fell silent, listening carefully to the sound of something scrambling around and rustling through the midsection of the plane.
"What was that?" Mohinder whispered as he slowly made his way towards the wreckage. Peter frowned, grabbing his flashlight and following his fellow survivor. It wasn't long before half the beach was now wide awake and staring worriedly at the fuselage.
He felt more than heard Claire come and stand next to him. "Something's in there," she said, standing on the tips of her toes to try to get a better look inside.
"It's probably Claude," he grumbled, knowing that the British man, unlike the other castaways, had absolutely no problems going through the fuselage and stealing from the dead passengers.
"Right behind ya, Poodle," Claude grumbled. The young man jumped as he turned around to see Claude glaring at him in displeasure. He didn't think it was possible, but the man had actually managed to look even grumpier than usual. Clearly he wasn't happy about being woken up in the middle of the night and then be accused of something he didn't do.
Peter tried his best to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks as he turned back towards the source of the noise. He frowned, shinning his small flashlight at the wreckage. Very little was illuminated, but he was still barely able to see something darting back and forth in the cabin of the plane.
An annoyed grunt suddenly came from behind him as someone else turned on a much bigger flashlight, its beam illuminating nearly half the plane. He glanced over his shoulder quickly to see that the light had come from Claude, no doubt something else he had taken from the fuselage earlier. Rolling his eyes, he turned back towards the broken piece of the plane. The nurse frowned, edging closer towards the fuselage. His hand stilled as his flashlight passed over what looked like the back of a furry four legged beast.
The young man was about to warn the others to back away, when Claude suddenly shined his light on the beast's eye. A terrified roar suddenly erupted from within the fuselage which was soon echoed by several more animals. The frightened creatures started to scramble around the cabin, crashing into each other as they tried to escape.
"Run!" Peter shouted as the animals began to charge towards the crowd of people.
The young nurse grabbed Claire's arm and dragged the girl away just as one of the animals came charging towards the crowd of frightened castaways. The survivors began scrambling away franticly as the beasts began smashing into things as they struggled to find their way back to the jungle.
"What was that?" Claire gasped as she watched the last of the animals disappear into the jungle.
A tall man wearing horn-rimmed glasses suddenly appeared beside them, a strange gleam in his eyes. "Boar," he answered as an ominous smirk spread across his features.
-+-+-+-
Isaac hissed as Peter gently dabbed at the gash on his leg, a souvenir he had received from one of the boars. Simone frowned as she studied her boyfriend's injury. She never would have thought that a couple of wild pigs could do so much damage.
"What were they looking for?" she asked.
Mohinder shrugged, holding the flashlight so that the nurse would have a better view of his patient’s wound. "Probably food," he answered.
"Something has to be done about those bodies," Peter mumbled, placing gauze over the bloody patch on Isaac's leg.
"What? Bury them?" Isaac asked. "There’s a lot of people in there."
"And we don't have any shovels," Simone pointed out. "Digging will be a real pain."
"I'm not talking about burying them, guys," Peter blurted out. "I think we should burn them."
The three other occupants of the medical tent fell silent as they each processed Peter's words. A knot began to form in Simone's stomach at the idea of burning the dead passengers. It wasn't their place to make this sort of decision, especially one as final as destroying the bodies of what had once been living breathing human beings.
"They're people," Simone whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "They deserve better than that."
"I know," the nurse sighed as he taped down the cotton pads he'd just placed on Isaac's leg. "But they also deserve a lot better than being eaten by wild animals. Any bodies we bury are just going to be dug up by the boar. We burn the fuselage at sun down tomorrow." That said, the nurse picked himself up and walked away, leaving the three alone in the tent.
"If he's so eager to burn the bodies, why wait 'til sun down?" Isaac asked, poking at his newly bandaged leg. Simone frowned at him, brushing the man's hand away.
Mohinder shifted, flicking off the small flashlight. "He's hoping someone will see the fire," he explained simply before leaving the two alone.
-+-+-+-
Peter was displeased to wake up the next morning to the sounds of an argument on the beach. The young man scowled as he peeked out of his tent to see that most of survivors were either bickering with one another or standing around looking tense and frightened.
Claire suddenly appeared in front of him, emerging from the angry mob with a very troubled Matt walking close beside her. "Peter," she whispered, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. "We sorta... have a problem."
"The food's gone," Matt blurted out, although that didn't really surprise the younger man. Since day one Matt had been nothing but direct in his intentions and words. He clearly wasn't the type of person to dance around an issue, especially one as serious as theirs.
"Gone?" he repeated. "What do you mean gone? Wasn't there a ton of food in the plane?"
"Well, not anymore," Matt told him honestly. "Look, Peter, everyone thought we were going to be rescued by now, so they all just ate as much as they wanted."
"What are we supposed to do?" Claire asked, her lip pouting in concern. "We have forty seven people to feed."
"What ya need ta do is tell everyone to stay the hell away from my stash!"
The three castaways turned to stare at Claude who was suddenly approaching from the center of the crowd. The other men and women were close on his trail indicating, to no surprise, that the British man had been the one at the center of the commotion.
"Your stash?" Peter snapped. "You mean the things you stole from the fuselage?"
"Well, aside from you, Pup, I didn't see anyone else in there diggin' 'round with me," he said, pointedly taking a step towards Peter and raising himself to his full height. The young nurse was embarrassed to have to crane his neck up slightly just to be able to look the other man in the eye. "So tell me why they should all be able to share in my hard work?"
"Maybe because we're all in this together?" Matt sneered, folding his arms over his chest.
"Stuff if, Tubby," Claude barked. "Don't tell me ya haven't had more than your fair share."
Matt stiffened, anger radiating behind his eyes, and Peter was starting to think that he might have a fist fight on his hands. Fortunately, Claire suddenly stepped between the two, drawing their attention towards her and away from each other.
"Guys, this isn't helping!" she chided. "We need food! How are we gonna get it?"
Just as the question left her lips, a hunting knife came flying out of nowhere and landing a mere inch away from Claude's foot. The occupants of the beach all turned to stare over at a tall man with short, dirty blond hair and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.
"We hunt," he told the group plainly. "We know there are wild boars on the island. Razorbacks, by the look of them. The ones that came into the camp last night were piglets, one hundred, one hundred fifty pounds each. Which means that there's a mother nearby. A two hundred fifty pound rat, with scimitar-like tusks, and a surly disposition, who'd love nothing more than to eviscerate anything that comes near. Boar's usual mode of attack is to circle around and charge from behind so I figure it'll take at least three of us to distract her long enough for me to flank one of the piglets, pin it, and slit its throat."
Peter frowned as he grasped the knife the mysterious man had thrown and handed it back to him. "That's a great idea, Mister...?"
"Bennet," Niki provided, standing a good foot behind the man in horn-rimmed glasses. A suspicious look clear on her face as she glared at the middle aged man's back. "His name is 'Bennet'."
"You're all insane!" Claude shouted, shaking his head in disapproval. "So you're going to have three people go wandering around in the haunted jungle with nothin', but one knife and their bare hands ta catch a couple of boars that trashed our camp and gored a few of us?"
Peter turned towards Bennet to see if he had anything more to add and was taken by surprise as the older man walked over to a metal suitcase, opening it to reveal a set of at least a dozen hunting knives.
"Fantastic!" Claude laughed. "A pack of knives and three loons to catch us some dinner. Best plan I've ever heard!"
"And what's your plan, Claude?" Peter snapped. "You gonna go into the jungle and yell at the trees until they throw fruit at you?"
Claude sneered as he grasped the young man by his arm and pulled him close. "Just sayin', Pup," he whispered. "This bloke ain't said more than two words since we crashed here. We don't know anything about him."
+-+-+-+
Bennet glanced at his surrounding carefully, making sure that no one was watching him as his hand raised towards the phone that was currently ringing frantically. Once he was assured that the area was clear, he quickly grasped the receiver and placed it to his ear.
"Colonel Bennet?" the voice on the other line began, before he could even issue a greeting. "Is this line secure?"
"Roger that," he confirmed seriously. Grasping a pen and pad of paper, the man readied himself for any notes that he might have to jot down.
"Good. I'll meet you at the usual rendezvous point at exactly 1300 hours."
He was about to respond to the other man's words, when suddenly an all too familiar voice interrupted his train of thought.
"Bennet!" Thompson barked, smacking his cubicle with a stack of papers. "What have I told you about personal calls during work hours? And I'll be needing those TPS reports on my desk at noon! Not twelve thirty. Not twelve fifteen. Twelve!"
Bennet scowled, placing the phone back on its cradle and shifting himself back towards his computer monitor. "I know, Thompson."
"Get back to work," the other man ordered, a mocking tone clear in his voice as he muttered "Colonel Bennet" under his breath.
+-+-+-+
"Working hard?" Claire teased as she approached Mohinder's work station. Since the marshal's death, the Indian man had been practically obsessed with his work, but the blond teen couldn't really blame him. They all wanted to get off of this island and at the moment it was looking like Mohinder was their last hope. It was a lot of pressure to put on one person, especially after suffering such a tragedy, and Claire was more than willing to do anything in her power to help out and relieve some of his tension.
Mohinder glanced up at her quickly before pulling out what looked like a much bigger, modified version of the original transceiver. "I suppose you could say that," he smirked.
"Whoa," she gasped, carefully taking in the impressive device. "Is that the same transceiver?"
"Actually, it's an antenna," he corrected. "The Spanish woman's distress call was coming from somewhere on the island. If we could find the source of her transmission, then maybe we could cut it off and set up one of our own. If I could set up this antenna at a high elevation on the island, it might increase our chances of finding it."
Claire nodded thoughtfully. She had always considered herself a fairly smart girl, she'd always gotten A's and B's in all of her classes, but even with her intelligence she was struggling to keep up with some of the Indian man's ideas. If she remembered correctly, Gabriel had called him a "Professor" earlier. She could easily see the man in a college setting, teaching eager young minds to tinker with electronics and set up complicated communication systems.
"Alright," she mused. "I suppose I could attach it somewhere in the jungle while we're out hunting for boar."
Mohinder frowned, raising a quizzical eyebrow at her. "You're actually going into the woods with that man?"
"Yeah," she shrugged. "He seems like a nice enough guy."
-+-+-+-
"I don't need a babysitter," Micah groused as Niki lead him across the beach, weaving between crowds of people in search of someone who seemed both responsible and safe. "Why can't I just come with you?"
She couldn't leave Micah with Matt or Peter, since they were busy picking through the fuselage in order to burn it tonight. Claire was going with her on the hunt, so that crossed her off the list. There was simply something about Isaac that she didn't trust, it was probably his twitchy nature and the constant redness in his eyes, so he was out and unfortunately that meant Simone was out as well. Simone and Isaac were a couple and it seemed, like with every couple, you couldn't get one without the other.
"Because I said no," she told him firmly. "You saw what those boar did to the camp. Besides, there's that crazy jungle monster out there. You're safest here on the beach. And hey, this will be a good chance for me to get to know your friend Mr. Bennet a bit better."
Her eyes lit up when she spotted the round faced Asian man with wire framed glasses sitting alone on the beach reading a comic book. The man might not speak a word of English, but at least he was a safe pick. He wasn't wandering into the jungle or handling dead bodies. He was a perfect candidate for a babysitter.
"Excuse me!" she called, waving her arms at him and pulling on her brightest smile. "Hello?" The Asian man blinked as he turned to stare up at her, confusion written all over his face. "Hi," she beamed raising her voice and talking slowly so that he could catch everything she said. "I... am going off” she explained, using her hands to help with any words she thought he may not understand, “to hunt. Could you... keep an eye on my boy... Micah. And I'm Niki."
The young man's eyes were wide as he scrunched up his face, listening intently to her words. He nodded his head slowly, most likely still not understand exactly what she had said, but Micah knew well enough to stay with him, and that was the most important thing.
-+-+-+-
"Hey! Peter?"
Peter looked up and smiled as he saw Simone walking towards him, a small binder with a floral and lace pattern clutched in her hands. He took a few steps away from the fuselage, in order to protect the woman from the harsh stench of dead bodies.
"Hey," he greeted, pulling off the torn piece of cloth he'd wrapped around his nose and mouth to keep from being over powered by the odor. "What's up?"
"Nothing much," she smiled playfully. "I was just thinking, since you're going to be burning the bodies tonight, maybe you could lead a service. You know, say a few words about the dead or read off some names? Something like that."
Peter frowned shielding his eyes from the harsh sunlight. He usually he would have been more than happy to agree with the woman, to drop everything and work with her on the service, but he had just too many things going on right now. Preparing the fuselage for the fire tonight was going to take the entire day, even with all the help he was getting from the other survivors, and he still hadn't gotten a chance to tell Matt about the whole Sylar situation.
"That sounds like a really good idea," he told her. "But... I just can't right now. But you should definitely do it!"
"Me?"
"Yeah, I'm sure you'll be able to come up with something great!"
"Yeah, but I'm not..."
His stomach tightened as her words suddenly trailed off. He knew right away what she was going to say. She was about to tell him that he should do it because the castaways had all decided he was now their "de facto leader." Peter wasn't used to this kind of role. He was a nurse, with barely any experience in that field. He'd spent most of his life following the instructions of others, taking charge like this was completely foreign to him.
The young man was about to apologize and offer her a hand later on when his eyes suddenly caught sight of something that made his heart stop dead in his chest. A brown haired man with a strong chin was standing off in the distance sporting a black suit and a pair of clean, white tennis shoes. The young nurse took a few hesitant steps towards what he knew in his heart to be a hallucination only to have the figure turn and walk away into the jungle.
"Peter? Peter?" The nurse blinked as he turned around to gaze at Simone's worried expression. "Are you alright?"
He glanced back over his shoulder and saw no sign of the brown haired man he had just seen.
-+-+-+-
Claire held her breath as she carefully followed Mr. Bennet's lead and crept quietly through the jungle, making sure to step over twigs and ducking branches. She had gone hunting a few times before with her Uncle Flint, so she knew to keep as quiet as possible and keep an eye open for any sort of tracks the boar might have left behind. Niki on the other hand was clearly new to this. She was looking around herself hesitantly and tripping over her own feet. Claire could tell that the older woman was terrified by what was lurking out there and the teenager decided right away that she should do something to put the woman at ease.
"So, your son, how's he holding up?" she asked, politely.
"Good," Niki nodded. "He's doing well... better than me."
She smiled at the woman as Mr. Bennet continued to study the ground for boar tracks. "You must be really proud of him. He's a really brave kid."
The blond woman laughed bitterly, shaking her head at Claire's words. "I can't really take credit for that," she told her. Claire frowned, not quite understanding what the woman meant. "I haven't really been a part of his life since he was a baby. I was just in Australia to go get him... His father died and I got custody."
"Oh," Claire whispered, suddenly feeling very awkward. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't be," the older woman shrugged. "At least I get to spend time with him." An uncomfortable pause suddenly fell upon the group as Bennet knelt down in front of a large tree trunk studying the markings carefully. "So what were you doing in Australia?"
Claire froze, a deep red blush spreading across her face as she tried to decide whether or not to answer the woman's question truthfully. Fortunately, Bennet cut them both off when he turned to hush the two blondes.
"These are tusk marks," he told the women, pointing to the scratches on the base of the tree. "The boars most likely used this tree to sharpen their tusks. They can't be much farther now."
Just as soon as the man spoke, loud grunts and squeals erupted from a few feet away. The middle aged man smirked as he crouched down low to the ground, signaling for Niki and Claire to do the same. The two blond girls did as they were directed, waiting silently for something to happen. Bennet began to gesture with his hands, directing the girls to spread out and get ready to distract the mother boar while he went after one of the piglets, but Niki didn't seem to grasp his hand movements and made her confusion known.
"Are you trying to give us the 'steal' sign?"
The woman was whispering, but she obviously spoke a bit too loudly as it caught the attention of the mother boar who came charging towards them. Claire and Bennet scrambled out of the way as the wild pig made a direct bee line straight towards Niki, who did her best to back pedal and dive out of the way, only to have the boar scrape her leg with its massive tusk. The woman howled in pain, as she landed flat on her back, blood seeping out of the large cut on her leg.
"Niki?" Claire gasped, scrambling back onto her feet as she went over to check the other woman's condition. "Mr. Bennet? Mr. Bennet, Niki's hurt!"
Her words were met with silence, and for one horrifying moment, Claire felt certain that Mr. Bennet had blacked out.
Next Chapter
Author: starrdust411
Fandom: Heroes (Crossover with Lost)
Characters: Ando, Bennet, Claire, Claude, Hiro, Isaac, Peter, Matt, Micah, Mohinder, Niki, Simone, Sylar (more to come)
Rating: R
Summary: A plane crash unites a group of strangers.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Lost.
Warnings: AU, Violence, Action/Adventure, Drug use, Het, Slash, Crossover/Fusion
Chapter 1| Chapter 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4| Chapter 5| Chapter 6|
Chapter 7
"So Gabriel is Sylar?" Peter said thoughtfully. "I sort of figured as much."
The two men had approached him late at night with the news. Peter didn't bother to ask why they hadn't told him about all this earlier that day since it was obvious that they wanted only him to hear. The later in the day they told him; the less likely it would be that any of the other survivors would be listening in on their conversation.
"Really?" Sylar smirked. "Because yesterday you were ready to kill Mohinder because you thought he was Audrey's prisoner."
Peter frowned at the other man's comment, crossing his arms over his chest angrily. "That was until I noticed the bandages around your wrists," the young man clarified. "Luckily, only two people saw the handcuffs."
"But now everyone knows that there was an armed U.S. Marshal on the plane," Mohinder sighed wearily. "That gunshot must have been heard by everyone on the beach, so if they hadn't known about the firearm before, they know now."
Peter could tell just by looking at the other man that he was still feeling upset over Audrey's death and the young nurse probably would have felt more sympathy for him if he hadn't tried to hide a murderer among their group of survivors. Words couldn't describe the feeling of dread that had come over him when Mohinder had informed him that Sylar wasn't just some criminal, but a serial killer. Peter shuddered at the very idea of Sylar attacking one of the other survivors.
"I really wish you had come to me earlier," Peter groused, rubbing his temples.
"Why?" Sylar snapped. "What are you, twenty one? Twenty two?"
"Twenty six," he corrected.
"Well, why should a grown man turn to a child for help?"
The nurse frowned at the serial killer. Sylar wasn't exactly making a good impression on him, not that punching him in the face and stepping on his chest were working in his favor. "Well for the past four days, everyone on this beach has been looking to me for guidance," he told him dryly. "And if they find out who Sylar is and what he did, it's just going to cause a panic."
"That's pretty much the exact same thing I said two days ago," Sylar said, rolling his eyes as he turned to walk away from the other two men.
Mohinder started to follow him, but Peter quickly grabbed his upper arm, stopping him in his tracks.
"Matt's a cop," he whispered to the Indian man. "I think we should tell him about all this as well."
"I suppose you're right," he whispered back. "Peter. I'm truly sorry about this. I wanted to tell you... but I was hoping that we'd be rescued by now."
"Yeah," he shrugged. "We all were."
Mohinder smiled weakly at him, about to say something else, but he was suddenly cut off as a loud crash came from the fuselage. The two men fell silent, listening carefully to the sound of something scrambling around and rustling through the midsection of the plane.
"What was that?" Mohinder whispered as he slowly made his way towards the wreckage. Peter frowned, grabbing his flashlight and following his fellow survivor. It wasn't long before half the beach was now wide awake and staring worriedly at the fuselage.
He felt more than heard Claire come and stand next to him. "Something's in there," she said, standing on the tips of her toes to try to get a better look inside.
"It's probably Claude," he grumbled, knowing that the British man, unlike the other castaways, had absolutely no problems going through the fuselage and stealing from the dead passengers.
"Right behind ya, Poodle," Claude grumbled. The young man jumped as he turned around to see Claude glaring at him in displeasure. He didn't think it was possible, but the man had actually managed to look even grumpier than usual. Clearly he wasn't happy about being woken up in the middle of the night and then be accused of something he didn't do.
Peter tried his best to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks as he turned back towards the source of the noise. He frowned, shinning his small flashlight at the wreckage. Very little was illuminated, but he was still barely able to see something darting back and forth in the cabin of the plane.
An annoyed grunt suddenly came from behind him as someone else turned on a much bigger flashlight, its beam illuminating nearly half the plane. He glanced over his shoulder quickly to see that the light had come from Claude, no doubt something else he had taken from the fuselage earlier. Rolling his eyes, he turned back towards the broken piece of the plane. The nurse frowned, edging closer towards the fuselage. His hand stilled as his flashlight passed over what looked like the back of a furry four legged beast.
The young man was about to warn the others to back away, when Claude suddenly shined his light on the beast's eye. A terrified roar suddenly erupted from within the fuselage which was soon echoed by several more animals. The frightened creatures started to scramble around the cabin, crashing into each other as they tried to escape.
"Run!" Peter shouted as the animals began to charge towards the crowd of people.
The young nurse grabbed Claire's arm and dragged the girl away just as one of the animals came charging towards the crowd of frightened castaways. The survivors began scrambling away franticly as the beasts began smashing into things as they struggled to find their way back to the jungle.
"What was that?" Claire gasped as she watched the last of the animals disappear into the jungle.
A tall man wearing horn-rimmed glasses suddenly appeared beside them, a strange gleam in his eyes. "Boar," he answered as an ominous smirk spread across his features.
-+-+-+-
Isaac hissed as Peter gently dabbed at the gash on his leg, a souvenir he had received from one of the boars. Simone frowned as she studied her boyfriend's injury. She never would have thought that a couple of wild pigs could do so much damage.
"What were they looking for?" she asked.
Mohinder shrugged, holding the flashlight so that the nurse would have a better view of his patient’s wound. "Probably food," he answered.
"Something has to be done about those bodies," Peter mumbled, placing gauze over the bloody patch on Isaac's leg.
"What? Bury them?" Isaac asked. "There’s a lot of people in there."
"And we don't have any shovels," Simone pointed out. "Digging will be a real pain."
"I'm not talking about burying them, guys," Peter blurted out. "I think we should burn them."
The three other occupants of the medical tent fell silent as they each processed Peter's words. A knot began to form in Simone's stomach at the idea of burning the dead passengers. It wasn't their place to make this sort of decision, especially one as final as destroying the bodies of what had once been living breathing human beings.
"They're people," Simone whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "They deserve better than that."
"I know," the nurse sighed as he taped down the cotton pads he'd just placed on Isaac's leg. "But they also deserve a lot better than being eaten by wild animals. Any bodies we bury are just going to be dug up by the boar. We burn the fuselage at sun down tomorrow." That said, the nurse picked himself up and walked away, leaving the three alone in the tent.
"If he's so eager to burn the bodies, why wait 'til sun down?" Isaac asked, poking at his newly bandaged leg. Simone frowned at him, brushing the man's hand away.
Mohinder shifted, flicking off the small flashlight. "He's hoping someone will see the fire," he explained simply before leaving the two alone.
-+-+-+-
Peter was displeased to wake up the next morning to the sounds of an argument on the beach. The young man scowled as he peeked out of his tent to see that most of survivors were either bickering with one another or standing around looking tense and frightened.
Claire suddenly appeared in front of him, emerging from the angry mob with a very troubled Matt walking close beside her. "Peter," she whispered, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. "We sorta... have a problem."
"The food's gone," Matt blurted out, although that didn't really surprise the younger man. Since day one Matt had been nothing but direct in his intentions and words. He clearly wasn't the type of person to dance around an issue, especially one as serious as theirs.
"Gone?" he repeated. "What do you mean gone? Wasn't there a ton of food in the plane?"
"Well, not anymore," Matt told him honestly. "Look, Peter, everyone thought we were going to be rescued by now, so they all just ate as much as they wanted."
"What are we supposed to do?" Claire asked, her lip pouting in concern. "We have forty seven people to feed."
"What ya need ta do is tell everyone to stay the hell away from my stash!"
The three castaways turned to stare at Claude who was suddenly approaching from the center of the crowd. The other men and women were close on his trail indicating, to no surprise, that the British man had been the one at the center of the commotion.
"Your stash?" Peter snapped. "You mean the things you stole from the fuselage?"
"Well, aside from you, Pup, I didn't see anyone else in there diggin' 'round with me," he said, pointedly taking a step towards Peter and raising himself to his full height. The young nurse was embarrassed to have to crane his neck up slightly just to be able to look the other man in the eye. "So tell me why they should all be able to share in my hard work?"
"Maybe because we're all in this together?" Matt sneered, folding his arms over his chest.
"Stuff if, Tubby," Claude barked. "Don't tell me ya haven't had more than your fair share."
Matt stiffened, anger radiating behind his eyes, and Peter was starting to think that he might have a fist fight on his hands. Fortunately, Claire suddenly stepped between the two, drawing their attention towards her and away from each other.
"Guys, this isn't helping!" she chided. "We need food! How are we gonna get it?"
Just as the question left her lips, a hunting knife came flying out of nowhere and landing a mere inch away from Claude's foot. The occupants of the beach all turned to stare over at a tall man with short, dirty blond hair and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.
"We hunt," he told the group plainly. "We know there are wild boars on the island. Razorbacks, by the look of them. The ones that came into the camp last night were piglets, one hundred, one hundred fifty pounds each. Which means that there's a mother nearby. A two hundred fifty pound rat, with scimitar-like tusks, and a surly disposition, who'd love nothing more than to eviscerate anything that comes near. Boar's usual mode of attack is to circle around and charge from behind so I figure it'll take at least three of us to distract her long enough for me to flank one of the piglets, pin it, and slit its throat."
Peter frowned as he grasped the knife the mysterious man had thrown and handed it back to him. "That's a great idea, Mister...?"
"Bennet," Niki provided, standing a good foot behind the man in horn-rimmed glasses. A suspicious look clear on her face as she glared at the middle aged man's back. "His name is 'Bennet'."
"You're all insane!" Claude shouted, shaking his head in disapproval. "So you're going to have three people go wandering around in the haunted jungle with nothin', but one knife and their bare hands ta catch a couple of boars that trashed our camp and gored a few of us?"
Peter turned towards Bennet to see if he had anything more to add and was taken by surprise as the older man walked over to a metal suitcase, opening it to reveal a set of at least a dozen hunting knives.
"Fantastic!" Claude laughed. "A pack of knives and three loons to catch us some dinner. Best plan I've ever heard!"
"And what's your plan, Claude?" Peter snapped. "You gonna go into the jungle and yell at the trees until they throw fruit at you?"
Claude sneered as he grasped the young man by his arm and pulled him close. "Just sayin', Pup," he whispered. "This bloke ain't said more than two words since we crashed here. We don't know anything about him."
+-+-+-+
Bennet glanced at his surrounding carefully, making sure that no one was watching him as his hand raised towards the phone that was currently ringing frantically. Once he was assured that the area was clear, he quickly grasped the receiver and placed it to his ear.
"Colonel Bennet?" the voice on the other line began, before he could even issue a greeting. "Is this line secure?"
"Roger that," he confirmed seriously. Grasping a pen and pad of paper, the man readied himself for any notes that he might have to jot down.
"Good. I'll meet you at the usual rendezvous point at exactly 1300 hours."
He was about to respond to the other man's words, when suddenly an all too familiar voice interrupted his train of thought.
"Bennet!" Thompson barked, smacking his cubicle with a stack of papers. "What have I told you about personal calls during work hours? And I'll be needing those TPS reports on my desk at noon! Not twelve thirty. Not twelve fifteen. Twelve!"
Bennet scowled, placing the phone back on its cradle and shifting himself back towards his computer monitor. "I know, Thompson."
"Get back to work," the other man ordered, a mocking tone clear in his voice as he muttered "Colonel Bennet" under his breath.
+-+-+-+
"Working hard?" Claire teased as she approached Mohinder's work station. Since the marshal's death, the Indian man had been practically obsessed with his work, but the blond teen couldn't really blame him. They all wanted to get off of this island and at the moment it was looking like Mohinder was their last hope. It was a lot of pressure to put on one person, especially after suffering such a tragedy, and Claire was more than willing to do anything in her power to help out and relieve some of his tension.
Mohinder glanced up at her quickly before pulling out what looked like a much bigger, modified version of the original transceiver. "I suppose you could say that," he smirked.
"Whoa," she gasped, carefully taking in the impressive device. "Is that the same transceiver?"
"Actually, it's an antenna," he corrected. "The Spanish woman's distress call was coming from somewhere on the island. If we could find the source of her transmission, then maybe we could cut it off and set up one of our own. If I could set up this antenna at a high elevation on the island, it might increase our chances of finding it."
Claire nodded thoughtfully. She had always considered herself a fairly smart girl, she'd always gotten A's and B's in all of her classes, but even with her intelligence she was struggling to keep up with some of the Indian man's ideas. If she remembered correctly, Gabriel had called him a "Professor" earlier. She could easily see the man in a college setting, teaching eager young minds to tinker with electronics and set up complicated communication systems.
"Alright," she mused. "I suppose I could attach it somewhere in the jungle while we're out hunting for boar."
Mohinder frowned, raising a quizzical eyebrow at her. "You're actually going into the woods with that man?"
"Yeah," she shrugged. "He seems like a nice enough guy."
-+-+-+-
"I don't need a babysitter," Micah groused as Niki lead him across the beach, weaving between crowds of people in search of someone who seemed both responsible and safe. "Why can't I just come with you?"
She couldn't leave Micah with Matt or Peter, since they were busy picking through the fuselage in order to burn it tonight. Claire was going with her on the hunt, so that crossed her off the list. There was simply something about Isaac that she didn't trust, it was probably his twitchy nature and the constant redness in his eyes, so he was out and unfortunately that meant Simone was out as well. Simone and Isaac were a couple and it seemed, like with every couple, you couldn't get one without the other.
"Because I said no," she told him firmly. "You saw what those boar did to the camp. Besides, there's that crazy jungle monster out there. You're safest here on the beach. And hey, this will be a good chance for me to get to know your friend Mr. Bennet a bit better."
Her eyes lit up when she spotted the round faced Asian man with wire framed glasses sitting alone on the beach reading a comic book. The man might not speak a word of English, but at least he was a safe pick. He wasn't wandering into the jungle or handling dead bodies. He was a perfect candidate for a babysitter.
"Excuse me!" she called, waving her arms at him and pulling on her brightest smile. "Hello?" The Asian man blinked as he turned to stare up at her, confusion written all over his face. "Hi," she beamed raising her voice and talking slowly so that he could catch everything she said. "I... am going off” she explained, using her hands to help with any words she thought he may not understand, “to hunt. Could you... keep an eye on my boy... Micah. And I'm Niki."
The young man's eyes were wide as he scrunched up his face, listening intently to her words. He nodded his head slowly, most likely still not understand exactly what she had said, but Micah knew well enough to stay with him, and that was the most important thing.
-+-+-+-
"Hey! Peter?"
Peter looked up and smiled as he saw Simone walking towards him, a small binder with a floral and lace pattern clutched in her hands. He took a few steps away from the fuselage, in order to protect the woman from the harsh stench of dead bodies.
"Hey," he greeted, pulling off the torn piece of cloth he'd wrapped around his nose and mouth to keep from being over powered by the odor. "What's up?"
"Nothing much," she smiled playfully. "I was just thinking, since you're going to be burning the bodies tonight, maybe you could lead a service. You know, say a few words about the dead or read off some names? Something like that."
Peter frowned shielding his eyes from the harsh sunlight. He usually he would have been more than happy to agree with the woman, to drop everything and work with her on the service, but he had just too many things going on right now. Preparing the fuselage for the fire tonight was going to take the entire day, even with all the help he was getting from the other survivors, and he still hadn't gotten a chance to tell Matt about the whole Sylar situation.
"That sounds like a really good idea," he told her. "But... I just can't right now. But you should definitely do it!"
"Me?"
"Yeah, I'm sure you'll be able to come up with something great!"
"Yeah, but I'm not..."
His stomach tightened as her words suddenly trailed off. He knew right away what she was going to say. She was about to tell him that he should do it because the castaways had all decided he was now their "de facto leader." Peter wasn't used to this kind of role. He was a nurse, with barely any experience in that field. He'd spent most of his life following the instructions of others, taking charge like this was completely foreign to him.
The young man was about to apologize and offer her a hand later on when his eyes suddenly caught sight of something that made his heart stop dead in his chest. A brown haired man with a strong chin was standing off in the distance sporting a black suit and a pair of clean, white tennis shoes. The young nurse took a few hesitant steps towards what he knew in his heart to be a hallucination only to have the figure turn and walk away into the jungle.
"Peter? Peter?" The nurse blinked as he turned around to gaze at Simone's worried expression. "Are you alright?"
He glanced back over his shoulder and saw no sign of the brown haired man he had just seen.
-+-+-+-
Claire held her breath as she carefully followed Mr. Bennet's lead and crept quietly through the jungle, making sure to step over twigs and ducking branches. She had gone hunting a few times before with her Uncle Flint, so she knew to keep as quiet as possible and keep an eye open for any sort of tracks the boar might have left behind. Niki on the other hand was clearly new to this. She was looking around herself hesitantly and tripping over her own feet. Claire could tell that the older woman was terrified by what was lurking out there and the teenager decided right away that she should do something to put the woman at ease.
"So, your son, how's he holding up?" she asked, politely.
"Good," Niki nodded. "He's doing well... better than me."
She smiled at the woman as Mr. Bennet continued to study the ground for boar tracks. "You must be really proud of him. He's a really brave kid."
The blond woman laughed bitterly, shaking her head at Claire's words. "I can't really take credit for that," she told her. Claire frowned, not quite understanding what the woman meant. "I haven't really been a part of his life since he was a baby. I was just in Australia to go get him... His father died and I got custody."
"Oh," Claire whispered, suddenly feeling very awkward. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't be," the older woman shrugged. "At least I get to spend time with him." An uncomfortable pause suddenly fell upon the group as Bennet knelt down in front of a large tree trunk studying the markings carefully. "So what were you doing in Australia?"
Claire froze, a deep red blush spreading across her face as she tried to decide whether or not to answer the woman's question truthfully. Fortunately, Bennet cut them both off when he turned to hush the two blondes.
"These are tusk marks," he told the women, pointing to the scratches on the base of the tree. "The boars most likely used this tree to sharpen their tusks. They can't be much farther now."
Just as soon as the man spoke, loud grunts and squeals erupted from a few feet away. The middle aged man smirked as he crouched down low to the ground, signaling for Niki and Claire to do the same. The two blond girls did as they were directed, waiting silently for something to happen. Bennet began to gesture with his hands, directing the girls to spread out and get ready to distract the mother boar while he went after one of the piglets, but Niki didn't seem to grasp his hand movements and made her confusion known.
"Are you trying to give us the 'steal' sign?"
The woman was whispering, but she obviously spoke a bit too loudly as it caught the attention of the mother boar who came charging towards them. Claire and Bennet scrambled out of the way as the wild pig made a direct bee line straight towards Niki, who did her best to back pedal and dive out of the way, only to have the boar scrape her leg with its massive tusk. The woman howled in pain, as she landed flat on her back, blood seeping out of the large cut on her leg.
"Niki?" Claire gasped, scrambling back onto her feet as she went over to check the other woman's condition. "Mr. Bennet? Mr. Bennet, Niki's hurt!"
Her words were met with silence, and for one horrifying moment, Claire felt certain that Mr. Bennet had blacked out.
Next Chapter