Chapter 7

Two weeks passed.

Allie absentmindedly caressed her midsection as the slim blonde strolled through the girls’ camp, spear in hand. With Karen hunting, and Mary in the cage for another turn trying for a baby with Rodney -- Mary’s period having arrived a couple weeks previous -- Allie was the only one left in their dwindling tribe on guard duty.

“Psst!”

She looked around. That noise had come from off to the side of the cage. There, off in the scrub along the edge of the crescent canyon their camp occupied, crouched Jason!

“What... ?” The blonde readied her spear, looking around for more members of the other tribe. He seemed to be alone.

His finger to his mouth, Jason waved for her to approach.

Allie considered for a moment. Since Mary had just gone into the cage, Allie wouldn’t be needed to let her out for at least a few minutes. If it was anyone else she wouldn’t hesitate to sound the alarm, but Jason...

She walked over to him, her spear at the ready. “What are you doing here?”

He stood up, his arms open to indicate he was unarmed. “Hey, Allie. I came to see you, to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m ... fine...” she replied uncertainly.

“And the baby?” He looked pointedly at her stomach.

She moved her hand to cover her bare midriff. “How did you know?” Her period hadn’t come last week, and it had always arrived like clockwork before.

He slowly moved a little closer. “I just knew it! We have a connection, you and I. Allie, please come away with me ... you’re going to be the mother of my child, and I want to take care of you.”

Strange feelings washed over her. “You ... you do? But what about Makayla?”

He came closer, and she let her spear hang loosely from one hand, non-threateningly.

Now he was right in front of her, and she could see up into his deep blue eyes, those eyes she had looked into when he had been inside her, making her cum, filling her up with his child.

“She’s not carrying my baby; you are.” Then he stepped forward and she could smell his musk. She realized that she had missed that smell. He leaned forward and she dropped the spear as he took her face in his hands for a kiss.

Savoring the taste of his lips, she closed her eyes.

The scream from the plane opened them again. Sister Nancy! She turned ... where was her spear?

“I’m sorry.”

Then Jason wrapped her up in his strong arms, pinning hers. She struggled and kicked, but it was no use; Jason was stronger.

She saw George and Joan rush into the plane. They must have come up the clearing leading from the beach, unseen due to Jason’s distraction.

“No! Mary!” But the other girl was still locked in the cage. The boys’ tribe had picked the perfect time for their attack. Then she realized: “You’ve been watching us.”

“Yes. We didn’t want to hurt anyone, but Sister Nancy murdered Abe. She has to pay.”

A few minutes earlier...

Sister Nancy dozed in the broken cabin of the crashed plane. She had slept a lot since the incident with the boys, since she had ... Abe...

The cloaked figure that had haunted her dreams of late stood on the tarmac, his face hidden in the darkness of night. Behind him, an airplane that looked a lot like the one they had crashed in, except coal black, waited for her to board. She knew the destination, had known it since she had pulled that trigger two weeks previous. She walked up to the spectre. He gestured to the steps leading into the craft.

She rushed forward and ripped the cloak from his head.

Abe’s face, young like the day they had crashed on the island, stared back at her accusingly. Then his mouth opened wide and chemical fire issued forth, melting the skin of his face and blinding her as he gurgled in agony.

She screamed.

Sister Nancy screamed just as George and Joan reached the plane from the beach approach. They looked at each other ... had Sister Nancy seen them? They dashed into the plane.

Once Allie had seen the tribe leaders enter the cabin she stopped struggling, waiting to see what would happen.

A few minutes later, George waved them over before returning to the plane’s interior.

Jason set Allie down gently and scooped her spear up before she had a chance to do anything. He wasn’t holding it threateningly, though.

“It’s over ... c’mon.” And he headed toward the plane. She followed.

They found George and Joan standing over the fallen figure of Sister Nancy. The nun’s eyes were open but focused on nothing. Blood stained her coif and forehead.

“What did you do?!” Jason said, rushing forward. “We agreed to a trial!”

“Whoa, whoa, there, pardner!” George said. “We didn’t do nuthin’! Found ‘er like this, and nobody else is here. Looks like she done hit her head ... agin.”

Jason could see that Sister Nancy was still breathing. Not dead, but ... what?

Joan knelt, looking at a smear of blood on the hard edge of a nearby seat arm. “Looks like she hit here. Tripped?” Then she turned to regard the unresponsive nun. “Could she be faking?”