The problem with living so far away from the compound was that it made middle of the night bathroom breaks pretty crappy. Even moreso when it was just after dawn, and there was no way that he'd be able to go all the way up the compound and make it back without completely waking up. Besides, it wasn't like they weren't pretty much living in the jungle anyway. People probably peed in the woods all the time.
Still bleary-eyed, Chuck walked back into the hut, and back into his room, ready to pull the covers over his head and grab a few more winks of sleep.
He didn't, however, expect anyone else to be in his room when he got back. And definitely not someone who was pointing a gun at him.
"WOAH! Gun!" Chuck said, as that was the first thing his eyes zeroed in on, arms immediately trying to cover his face. Maybe he should have felt a little nostalgic, because it'd been a while since he'd had a gun pointed at him and had that ever present fear that he might DIE, but right then, the fact that he might die was just what was getting in the
( ... )
Sarah lifted her head, looking at him through narrowed eyes. The way he was going on, it sounded like nothing was entirely out of the ordinary for him, beyond the gun she'd been aiming at him and the fact that he'd mentioned woods. The last she'd checked, there weren't any woods in the Los Angeles area. Nothing about the situation was getting any clearer. If anything, Chuck's presence just made it more confusing, as well as more immediately necessary that she figure out what was going on right away.
She lowered the gun but didn't yet put it away, peering past him a moment. "Chuck, do you know where we are? How did we get here?"
Ever since Sarah had disappeared so many months ago, Chuck had thought about what he might say when she showed up again. Most of the scenarios that he'd played over and over in his head involved candles, maybe a few roses...some kind of cool suit...
...definitely didn't involve Chuck in his t-shirt, sweatpants, spouting a rambling monologue about peeing in the woods.
Great.
"Yeah..." Chuck said, probably sounding as unsuave as he felt right then, "We're on an island in the middle of nowhere. Nobody knows how we got here, nobody knows exactly how to leave, and I-- I know it sounds crazy, but I promise it's not. Not completely, anyway."
"You're right, that does sound crazy." Sarah shook her head, trying to make some kind of sense of what he'd said. "People don't just appear on islands. They get there somehow. Who else is here?"
It wasn't as if she didn't trust or believe Chuck, but that didn't mean there wasn't the possibility, even the probability, that someone else would have answers, or at least more information. 'Island in the middle of nowhere' could have been any one of a few hundred different locations.
That Chuck had been around long enough to get a place to live and clothes other than she'd last seen him in was worrying, but in a way that was still vague. First the other details, and then she'd figure things out from there.
Comments 29
Still bleary-eyed, Chuck walked back into the hut, and back into his room, ready to pull the covers over his head and grab a few more winks of sleep.
He didn't, however, expect anyone else to be in his room when he got back. And definitely not someone who was pointing a gun at him.
"WOAH! Gun!" Chuck said, as that was the first thing his eyes zeroed in on, arms immediately trying to cover his face. Maybe he should have felt a little nostalgic, because it'd been a while since he'd had a gun pointed at him and had that ever present fear that he might DIE, but right then, the fact that he might die was just what was getting in the ( ... )
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Sarah lifted her head, looking at him through narrowed eyes. The way he was going on, it sounded like nothing was entirely out of the ordinary for him, beyond the gun she'd been aiming at him and the fact that he'd mentioned woods. The last she'd checked, there weren't any woods in the Los Angeles area. Nothing about the situation was getting any clearer. If anything, Chuck's presence just made it more confusing, as well as more immediately necessary that she figure out what was going on right away.
She lowered the gun but didn't yet put it away, peering past him a moment. "Chuck, do you know where we are? How did we get here?"
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...definitely didn't involve Chuck in his t-shirt, sweatpants, spouting a rambling monologue about peeing in the woods.
Great.
"Yeah..." Chuck said, probably sounding as unsuave as he felt right then, "We're on an island in the middle of nowhere. Nobody knows how we got here, nobody knows exactly how to leave, and I-- I know it sounds crazy, but I promise it's not. Not completely, anyway."
Reply
It wasn't as if she didn't trust or believe Chuck, but that didn't mean there wasn't the possibility, even the probability, that someone else would have answers, or at least more information. 'Island in the middle of nowhere' could have been any one of a few hundred different locations.
That Chuck had been around long enough to get a place to live and clothes other than she'd last seen him in was worrying, but in a way that was still vague. First the other details, and then she'd figure things out from there.
Reply
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