The Island

By The Chronicler

"Not my fault! Not my fault! NOT MY FAULT!"

Peggy rolled her eyes. "Who's next to tell him that we agree. Not his fault." she wondered, dropping down on the couch and looking pointedly at her husband.

Buckaroo Banzai looked back. "Reno's up there now. He needed an extra pair of hands to hold the propellers and, apparently, I accuse him with my glances." He turned back to the computer station Tommy Boy was working at.

"No, there is still no signal. No one's coming to the rescue as of yet." Tommy Boy answered before he could ask again. Pushing back in the chair she did her very best to smile up at him. "Just so happens that the storm that forced us to land is, for those who have not looked outside, still there, blocking us from anything that could boost our signal enough to reach satellite."

"That's not my fault either!" came a yell from up stairs where Perfect Tommy was struggling to fix the propellers. "I can't control the weather! I'm perfect! Not a damn deity!"

Tommy Boy glanced sky ward. "How long has he been up there?"

"Too long." Peggy complained. Again she looked to her husband. "Buckaroo…."

Buckaroo threw his hands in the air. "It's his engine. He's the only engineer on this boat…'

"SHIP!" came a snap from top side. "The aurora is a ship! Not a boat!" Slightly less yelled was "Honestly, I don't know why I put up with…. I mean, come on already…."

With a groan, Buckaroo closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Any idea when Rawhide will be back?"

Tommy Boy sighed, wishing the big cowboy was handy just about then too. "He's still out with Knuckles and Oddity. And, before you ask, Jersey and Pecos aren't back either. Though they did check in about thirty ago."

Buckaroo waited about three seconds for her to continue, and, when she didn't… "I'm assuming that, if they had found fresh water, you would have told me."

Tommy Boy shook her finger at him. "Now, that's why they say you're such a smart man."

Buckaroo made as if he was going to smack her, but mumbled instead "Smart ass." Turning away, he looked out the big front windows at the storming weather beating on the island outside.

Three days.

They had been trapped here for three days on this little, unmapped rock in the middle of the big, wide Atlantic. Forced down by fast, strong, unexpected winds, this little island nobody seemed to know about was practically a miracle.

Unfortunately, nobody seemed to know about this damn little island.

The storm hadn't let up a drop the entire three days, pounding them. Oh the Aurora could take a beating. She proved that. But, there was no recharging her solar batteries sitting under those damn black clouds. There was no recycling their water without power. They were supposed to have restocked down in Tanqui yesterday.

The crew was making out, putting their unique skills to work in making sure they survived.

Rawhide and Knuckles went out to scout the island and, hopefully, a little hunting in the process to extend their short stocks. Jersey and Pecos were also scouting, but focusing on drinking water. Tommy Boy was trying to boost their computer links so as to reach help. Penny and Mrs. Johnson were trying to keep the 'household" up, whatever that meant ship wrecked on a little storm hit island. And Perfect Tommy was damning any and every island any god would create without a Napa Engine Parts store sitting in plain view.

Oh, yea, he made it quite clear that just having a Napa wasn't good enough. He had to have it in plan view with a honking huge florescent arrow that extended so high in the sky that it had burn spots where planes had ran into it, pointing directly down at it, a grinning service man, with manual, holding the door open for him.

Buckaroo honestly thought the kid was losing it.

Skip losing!

Lost!

"Damn." Buckaroo breathed, closing his eyes and dropping his head.

Peggy came up behind him and rubbed her hand up and down his back. "No worries." she encouraged softly. "You have a good crew. A good ship. We'll be fine.'

Her husband took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Of course she was right. He had a very good crew. And they had built him a very good ship. And no storm lasted forever.

Tommy Boy huffed. "After all, you are on vacation." she reminded them.

Both Buckaroo and Peggy looked down at her. But, Buckaroo chuckled. "Yea, well, we all know how my vacations go. Hell, I need a vacation from my vacations."

Knuckles slowly raised her crossbow to her shoulder. Taking careful aim at her target, she paused, listening, smelling, feeling the very air.

"Easy, boy." Rawhide hushed Oddity who, in his opinion, made the much better hunter.

Knuckles didn't need to look to know that the only thing holding her beloved pet back was the strong hand on his collar and the knowledge that he would greatly disappoint his mistress if he, again, chased away their meal. It must be agony for the over energetic dog to be held back from a much needed run. She could almost picture him: toung hanging out the side of his gaping blue eyed grin, ears twitching back and forth, muscles quivering with excitement.

Smiling at the thought, Knuckles fingers slowly squeezed, pulling the trigger.

With a twang, the steel hunting bolt shot forward, cutting through the air, and striking the boar just below and behind the ear, above the shoulder, piercing through the neck, the head of the deadly missile sticking out the far side.

The animal took half a step, but, too far gone to make a run for it, toppled over. Kicking weekly, it tried to squeal, but only gurgled.

"Damn it." knuckles cussed. "Missed the kill shot." Dropping her bow, she leaped out of her bushy hiding spot, drawing her belt knife as she closed on her prey.

"Kill it quick." Rawhide growled, not liking to see an animal suffer, even if he intended to eat it. He was struggling now to hold Oddity back as the dog barked wildly, very unhappy with the fact that his mistress was going after a wounded animal.

"That was my intention." Knuckles answered, though she knew he wouldn't hear her over the wind and rain. Jumping on the back of the struggling animal, she pinned it to the ground with her weight. One gloved hand grabbed the boar's muzzle from underneath, she pulled the head up and drove her knife down through the eye and straight into the brain.

Her prey had no time to suffer, dying at once.

Dropping the head back to the ground, she took a moment, laying her hand on its head, apologizing for her bad shot.

"You alright, girl?" Rawhide wanted to know as he came up to stand over her.

Knuckles nodded. "Damn wind. I should have adjusted more for the wind. He shouldn't have had time to fear."

Rawhide shrugged. "You must 'ave missed the spine by a breath. No one could have made a better shot in this damnable weather."

"Bullshit." she growled back. But, one for action over thought, she started to clean her knife in the grass. "Better get this critter back before the blood attracts something more on the predatory side, than the prey." She took a rope from her belt and began to tie its legs.

"You think we have something to worry about?" Rawhide wondered. He had a guess, but he tended to specialize in human predators over animals.

Knuckles huffed. "If there wasn't something bigger, we'd have seen a hell of a lot more boar by now." she pointed out. "Besides, look at Oddity. He knows something's out there."

Rawhide glanced down at the dog he still had a firm hold on.

Rather than watching his mistress, his big, blue eyes were scanning the trees, his ears working, his nose probing the wind.

"Wonderful." Rawhide grumbled. "Alrighty, then." Handing cross bow and dog to Knuckles, the big man suggested "What do you say we don't hang around here talking about it then?" And he started to look around for a branch to carry their boar on.

New Jersey wiped at his eyes, trying to clear them of the rain water.

"Doc, what'd I tell you about the hat?" Pecos grumbled. Incase he didn't remember, she snatched it up and smacked him in the arm with it. "You're wasting time."

Jersey threw her a glare. "I can't think with that thing on my head."

"Well, seeing as you're sticking a pin in some water and reading what it says, seeing seems a hell of a lot more important than thinking." she snapped. "Besides, I'm not gonna deliver you back to Peggy sick as a dog. Put it on and keep it on!"

Grinding his teeth, he obliged, tightening the chin strap of the cowboy hat so the wind wouldn't carry it away. "Seeing as I'm just taking water samples, I don't exactly see why I need an armed escort." he complained.

"That's 'cause you're a city boy." Pecos explained as she backed up, returning to her observation spot, her eyes carefully watching the small field they had found the little stream in.

"And you are less city, growing up in San Francisco?"

"Nope." Pecos answered. "But, growing up in the wilds of crazy, free thinking S.F., I'm more likely to shoot first and categorize later than you are."

Jersey's eyes narrowed. Turning back to his work he couldn't help but point out "Thus the endanger species act."

Pecos smiled. Though she wouldn't let him know it, poking fun at the doctor had been her anchor to sanity the last three days.

He was a good guy, tougher and smarter than he himself thought, even after all he had experienced with the Cavaliers. And he was a lot wittier than he thought of himself too. The doc had a rye humor that one would almost miss if one wasn't listening for it. Reno had pointed it out to her and her eyes practically popped right out of her head when she first caught on.

Now, where ever the doc was, just seemed like cozy home.

Even out here, drenched to the bone, searching for drinking water…

"Ha." Jersey suddenly barked.

"What?" Pecos snapped out of her thoughts.

He looked back and up at her. "We're on a tiny rock in the middle of an ocean of water where it hasn't stopped raining for three days… you'd think it'd be easier to find some water, wouldn't you?!"

Pecos' shoulders slouched with disappointment. "Ah, you have got to be kidding me!" She waved a hand at the island around them. "We're a couple of miles from the beach. How can we still be running into salt water?"

"Well, for starters, we're a couple of miles from that beach." Jersey indicated the side of the island where the Aurora had landed. "But we don't know how big the island is. We have no idea how close that beach is." he waved a hand off in the other direction. Coming to his feet and putting his little testing tools away in their plastic case, he pointed out "but it isn't salt we're dealing with."

"It isn't?"

"Arsenic. Probably seeping from the soil." He kicked at the stream. "We drink this and we won't have to worry about getting air born again. Just who's gonna bury who first."

Pecos sighed. "Oh, well, if we don't have to worry about getting air born again…" Shrugging, she glanced about. "So, what now? Keep looking?"

New Jersey shook his head. "We're not gonna find anything different." He tugged his rain slicker tighter around his throat. And shook his head again. "Let's get back to the Aurora and dry out. Put our heads together. Do some brain storming."

Pecos chuckled. "Funny choice of words there, doc."

Jersey looked at her, frowning. "Huh?"

"You know! Brain storming? We're in a storm?" Pecos waved a hand in the air as she turned and started to lead the way back home.

"And think… they give you a gun." Jersey rolled his eyes as he followed.

"Not my fault." he whispered to himself.

Reno groaned. "No one is blaming you, Tommy." he tried just one more time.

"Yea? Well, I am!" Perfect Tommy snapped before he could clamp his mouth shut.

Reno's head came up to stare at him across the top of the propeller cap he was holding into place. "What?" Could he have really heard what he heard? Could perfect Perfect Tommy really be blaming his perfect self?

Well, it was raining pretty hard, and he was wearing a hood.

Perfect Tommy turned away and became obsessed with looking through the tool box for the tool he had already attached to the underside of the cap.

Reno's eyes narrowed. Raising his voice, he asked again "What did you say?"

But Tommy ignored him, choosing to curse at the tool box instead.

"Perfect Tommy!"

"Augh! Why isn't anything working right!" Perfect Tommy yelled at the top of his lungs. In a fit, he rose up suddenly and kicked the box, sending it crashing back, off the edge of the observation deck.

With a loud crash and an explosion of tools, the box hit the ground three stories down.

"Perfect Tommy!" Reno snapped. He started to release his hold on the cap to grab his friend before he followed the box off the edge, but, remembering he was the only thing holding five hours worth of work together, he stopped himself. "Perfect Tommy! Calm down!"

"Fuck calming down!" Tommy snapped back. Seemingly unaware of the dangers of the slippery deck, he began to pace back and forth over the short eight feet length, waving his arms about wildly. "What the hell else can go wrong?!"

"Tommy, you're gonna fall!" Reno was becoming increasingly alarmed. He shifted, trying to free a hand so he could grab his friend.

"Don't you get it?" Tommy continued his tantrum. Ripping off his hood, he turned his face skyward. "Even the damn earth has turned against us!"

Grinding his teeth, Reno made a decision: damn the propeller!

"Hey, Reno?"

Reno glanced up at the kid, startled by the sudden calmness in his tone. Wasn't sure what he liked less: the out of control raging, or the sudden, curios calm. "yes, Tommy?" he asked cautiously, ready to abandon the propellers with a leap to grab Tommy if need be.

But Perfect Tommy wasn't stomping around any more. He was looking down at the ground where the tools had landed. "Did we pack along a little blond girl no one told me 'bout?" he wondered.

"What?" Reno tried to stretch his neck, trying to see what Tommy was seeing.

"There's a kid down there." Tommy glanced back at him. "A little girl with blond bunches of hair. Just looking' up at us."

Reno sighed, dropping his chin to his chest. "Perfect Tommy, would you throw a tantrum if I told you to go down stairs and get some sleep?"

Perfect Tommy spun about and headed for the hatch. "She's really there!" he insisted.

"Tommy, we're on a deserted island. Deserted! A.k.a. There's nobody there." Reno tried to assure.

"I'll be right back." the kid promised sliding down the ladder.

"Take your time." Reno hollered after. "Get some sleep! Some warm food! A tranquilizer!" he suggested. But then stopped, realizing that he was standing on the roof, in the storm, all alone, trapped by the propeller he was holding into place, waiting for someone to remember him.

And the way this trip was going…

Knuckles paused, rolling her shoulders.

"You doin' alright, girl?" Rawhide asked from behind. "Wanna take a break?" he offered.

The boar was hanging on a pole they carried between them on their shoulders. Being taller and stronger, Rawhide knew knuckles was taking the blunt of the hike. After an hour of caring this thing, he was beginning to be concerned that Knuckles refusal to admit defeat was gonna do her in.

"Did you see where Oddity went?" she asked, her eyes scanning the jungle around them.

Rawhide glanced around. "I… wasn't looking." he admitted. "Something wrong?"

Last he remembered, the dog had been wandering in and out of the bushes along side them. But, then again, Rawhide had lowered his head awhile back, concentrating on just keeping upright. The jungle of the island had left the ground a treacherous hike with roots and sink holes and spider nests hidden under every other twig and leaf. That, added to the wind and the constant rain… Well, he had been just a little distracted to keep an eye on the dog.

Knuckles didn't answer right away, her concentration on their environment. She was a hunter practically from birth, instincts honed in the wilderness, learning to track, hunt, survive. Every instinct learned in those days were instantly alert, and she couldn't quite put her finger on the reason. Like waking up in the middle of the night and not knowing what had woken her.

But then the wind stopped.

Not just ease nor die out. It suddenly and utterly stopped.

Taking with it was nearly all other signs of life: the bids, shifting of branches, squeals of the occasional unseen animal…

The only sound was the large rain drops hitting the big leaves all around.

"Drop the pig!" Knuckles suddenly ordered, already dropping her end as she reached for her crossbow.

Rawhide did as he was told, letting the catch drop to the ground. Spinning about for any sign of danger, he pulled open his coat so he could reach the pistol nested in his shoulder holster, protected from the rain. "What is it?" he wanted to know.

"You tell me." Knuckles answered, pointing her crossbow ahead of them.

Following her aim, Rawhide saw something he would never have expected.

Peeking out from behind a tree was a small, blue eyed, blond little boy. He couldn't have been more than six or so. Big eyes blinked at them, curiously, his little hands blending in with the white of the tree bark. His bangs hung wet and matted over his eyes and ears. Seeing that he had their attention, he carefully stepped out into full view revealing his bare little chest and ragged dark gray shorts. His feet were bare, but the sharp sticks and natural debris didn't seem to bother him any.

"Where the hell did he come from?" Rawhide wondered. Then he looked at Knuckles. "And why the hell are you aiming a weapon at him?"

"You explain him and I'll lower my bow." Knuckles challenged.

"Knuckles!" Rawhide growled, stepping pass her. Dropping to one knee a few feet away from the boy, he held his hand out to him. "Hello there, young fella." he greeted gently. "Do you understand me?"

The boy tilted his head to one side and just looked at him.

Rawhide sighed. "Knuckles? Wanna try a little French."

"No." she growled. "I wanna shoot first, ask questions later."

The man turned part way to glare up at her. "Blond kid in this region. Maybe a throw back from the old colonists." he pointed out before turning back to see the reaction.

Grinding her teeth, Knuckles let her crossbow drop. "Je suis content de vous voir." she offered. "Veux-tu un Franci?"

Again the boy said nothing.

Knuckles shrugged.

Rawhide pushed back his stetson and looked back at Knuckles again. "Anything native?"

"Native?" Knuckles waved a hand at the dead boar. "I could oink at…. Rawhide!" Her bow came up again.

There was a sharp tug at Rawhide's coat sleeve, turning the man around again to the child. Shocked, he stared down at the bone handled knife that the boy was using to dig through the thick padding of the sleeve in search of something more beneath the layers.

"Hey!" Rawhide jerked away, his reaction unintentionally jabbing up against the blade. "Ow!" he snapped as he scrambled back.

Knuckles quickly stepped forward, putting herself between him and his little attacker. "Can I shoot him now?" she wanted to know, done with trying to talk to the little brat.

"He's just a kid!" Rawhide protested. Despite the pain of his wound, he still tried to reason what had happened. "We scared him. How would you feel if big, weird strangers came up to you and started talking gibberish."

"Ask to be adopted. How do you think I got from India to America?" But even Knuckles' sense of violence wasn't prepared for what the child did next.

Looking at the blood on the tip of his knife, he held it up, over his lips. His toung flicked out, tasting the warm, red liquid. Smacking his lips, apparently agreeing with the taste, he looked at them again. Grinning, he revealed blood stained teeth, before taking a meaningful step toward them.

"I never did that!" Knuckles pointed out franticly. "Never, ever, even as an angry little brat, did I ever do that!"

Rawhide scrambled to his feet. "Son of a…"

The boy lunged forward, stabbing at Knuckles.

Despite her threats, Knuckles hesitated at shooting a child, instead using the bow to block the blade.

With a snarl, Oddity leaped out from the under brush, grabbing the boy's knife hand in his mouth and dragging him down to the ground.

The child cried out in start and pain as the dog shook his little hand until the knife was dropped.

"Oddity! Release!" Knuckles quickly ordered, rushing in to scoop up the weapon.

Instantly Oddity bounced back, retreating to his mistress' side, where he received an ear scratch as an award.

The little boy held his bruised and twisted wrist against his chest, his glaring blue eyes locked on the three as he slowly sat up.

"No blood." Rawhide observed, a little startled that, after the sudden attack and vicious sounds, Oddity hadn't left a dead hand hanging only by tendons.

"'Course." Knuckles grinned at him. "Oddity's better than that. He would never hurt a kid." she assured again scratching her pet's ears.

"No blood." Rawhide repeated. "Means I'm not gonna feel bad if we step around him and get back." Both he and Knuckles slowly backed up, keeping their eyes on the boy, until they reached the boar.

Leaving Oddity to keep watch, the two crouched down to pick up the kill again. But, when their attention turned back, the child was gone.

The wind was blowing again, even harder than before, the natural sounds of the island returning.

"Son of a bitch." Rawhide growled, glancing about quickly. "Back to the boat, and be fast about it." he encouraged, moving his pistol from the holster to his belt where it was easier to get to.

"Yea, like that needs to be said twice." Knuckles was already moving, calling to Oddity, keeping him close by.

New Jersey pushed the hat off his head and raised his face to the rain. "Did it get quiet all of a sudden?" he asked.

Pecos stopped where she was leading the way several feet ahead. "Huh?"

"It's quiet." Jersey pointed out. "The wind stopped. The bugs went away."

Pecos tilted her head to one side, listening. "Well, the rain is still coming down. And we're still getting wet. So?" She jerked her head back towards the path they were following back to the landing site. Not waiting if to see if he understood, she turned and started again. Only to stop suddenly with a startled yelp.

Right in front of her, nearly tripping the Cavalier, was a small, blond, green eyed girl.

"Holy crap, where did you come from?" Pecos gasped, hopping back.

She blinked up at the woman, a one sided smile creasing her young, baby fat cheeks. Her long, matted hair laid over her shoulders, dripping rain water down the front of her dirty and torn silk slip. She reached a hand out, her little white fingers grasping as if desperate for human touch.

Pecos couldn't help but smile down at the child.

Despite the dirt, rags, and matted hair, she was really quite a sweet looking little girl.

Out here, all alone, exposed to the elements and dangers of this desolate island…

Even if she wasn't a parent, Pecos' motherly instincts kicked in, over riding any possible caution raised at finding such a sweet innocent thing out here, so far from any known civilization.

She reached out and took the offered little hand, asking "Hey, there, sweety. What are you doing way out here? Where's your mommy?"

The little girl grinned up at her, revealing a mouth full of sharp, blood stained teeth.

Pecos frowned. "huh." was her observation. She looked back at the doctor. "Hey, Jersey, what languages do you…." her sentence ended in a cry as little teeth buried themselves into the meaty part of her hand where her thumb joined the rest of the fingers. Spinning back, she tried to yank her hand away, but the girl had both of her hands wrapped tightly around her wrist, her teeth chewing at her hand.

Pecos wasn't sure if it was the wound or the action that stopped her heart.

That sweet, innocent, little girl was trying to eat her hand.

"Get off of her!" Jersey yelled, grabbing Pecos' arm with one hand, and slapping the child away with the other.

Pecos cried out again as the child was slammed off, a chunk of her hand still being munched on in her teeth.

Jersey quickly spun about, dragging Pecos behind him, before turning to face the girl.

But the wind hit him hard, momentarily blinding him. When he was able to blink clear his eyes, all he saw in front of him was an empty path.

"Shit!" Pecos hissed, clutching her hand to her chest, blood running down her wrist and staining the front of her coat. "Shit, shit!"

One more look around, assuring himself that their attacker was, indeed, gone, Jersey quickly turned his attention to his wounded partner. Pulling his scarf out from around his neck, he took her hand and inspected it. "There's some damage here." he mumbled.

"And you took how many years of medical school to tell that?" Pecos growled. "What the hell did she bite me for?" she wanted to know.

Jersey wrapped the scarf around her hand. "You're gonna need stitches." he told her.

"Sidney." Pecos called to him, her voice tense with fear. When the doctor looked up at her, she asked again "Why'd she bite me?"

Jersey licked his lips. "She was chewing." he explained what little of the girl he had seen. "I think she was hungry."

Pecos eyes went big. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but she couldn't find the words to express what she felt about that answer.

"Can you walk? Are you at all dizzy?" Jersey quickly asked as he drew his pistol and checked to make sure it was loaded.

"Walk?" Pecos huffed. "Jersey, I'm running back to the damn ship."

Tommy Boy glanced up sharply from the computer when she heard the loud stomp as Perfect Tommy landed after skipping over the last three steps.

"Perfect Tommy!" Peggy cried as he nearly ran her over as he hurried pass the kitchen. "No running in the house… boat!" she reprimanded him.

"Yea" Tommy called back over his shoulder without slowing one little bit. "Sure. Sorry."

"Everything alright?" Buckaroo asked as he came in from the bridge to investigate the racket.

"There's a kid out there!" Perfect Tommy practically shouted at him as he skidded pass and jumped down the spiral that lead to the bottom floor of the Aurora.

"A kid? Perfect Tommy, what are… Tommy!" Buckaroo called after him, but he was already gone. With a sigh, he turned to Tommy Boy. "A kid?"

Tommy Boy shook her head. "Nothing. The systems picked up nothing but a little wildlife when we came over." She shrugged. "Then again, the storm knocked out most of everything."

"Like Perfect Tommy's brain." Mrs. Johnson complained from where she sat at the dining table. She leaned back so she could look out the window. "I mean, he's running around out in the rain looking for a kid on a deserted island. If he ever had it, he sure as hell lost it now."

"Buckaroo, he needs some sleep." Peggy put in. "If you have to go and slap him along the back of the head and drag him back in, you do it!"

The doctor sighed, reaching up and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Peggy, do me a favor? Go to the infirmary and get me a syringe with two CC's of benzodiazepines." he said, grabbing his coat off the rack and swinging it over his shoulders.

Peggy nodded once, then turned and hurried down the hall to the infirmary.

"Tommy Boy, you wanna see what sort of position he left Reno in on the roof?" Buckaroo zipped up his coat and started off to retrieve his youngest Cavalier.

Tommy Boy grabbed her own coat and started for the stairs when Mrs. Johnson asked her "Is Buckaroo really gonna dope Tommy up?"

Tommy Boy shook her head. "Not doped. Mild sedative." she pointed out. "And only as a last resort. You know how that kid gets when things go wrong. If someone doesn't stop him, he'll run himself to death."

"Well, yea, but do we have to dope him up?" the girl wanted to know. "I mean…. he doesn't like drugs."

Tommy Boy took a deep breath and was about to explain the differences between a sedative and `dope' when a beep drew her attention back to the comm. station she had just left. Returning, she hit a key. "Rawhide." she mumbled, reading the screen. She frowned. "And Jersey?"

They were both calling in at the same time?

"Tommy," Buckaroo tried to reason with him. "There's no one here. It's a deserted island. A little bump in the ocean."

But Perfect Tommy was too busy walking the edge of the trees, beating the bushes, searching.

Buckaroo ground his teeth. "Perfect Tommy, get your butt back inside!" he felt himself snap.

Finally, the boy stopped. Frowning, he turned his head to look at him.

Buckaroo winced. He didn't often lose patients, but the last few days was wearing him down. All he wanted to do was get the kid inside, tied down in bed where he wouldn't have to worry about him for a few hours. If he could do just that, only that, then he could cross one thing off the "Let's Give Banzai an Ulcer" list.

For crying out loud, they practically kidnapped him to give him a stress free vacation!

Hell, at least the wind had died away. He could cross that one off.

Taking a deep breath, Buckaroo tried again. "Look, Tommy, you haven't slept in a few days. You've barely eaten. You've been working hard out in this miserable weather."

"I'm not crazy." Tommy insisted. "I saw her."

The doctor tilted his head to one side. "Before or after you threw a few thousand dollars worth of tools off the roof?" He waved a hand at the scattered tools still laying in the mud and storm blown muck. "You do know what Rawhide's gonna do when he hears about this, right?… Tommy?"

Perfect Tommy wasn't looking at him. He was looking pass him. "Hey, Bucky, ol' man, if'n I'm crazy, tell me there ain't a kid standin' right on over there." he suggested, pointing.

Frowning, Buckaroo turned to look. "Son of a bitch." he breathed in disbelief.

There, true to crazy mutterings and chattering insistence, was a little, blond, blue eyed girl, maybe eleven, twelve years old. She was barefoot, wearing only a worn and tattered, white slip. One little hand tugged on the end of a matted strain of hair, the other was tucked up behind her, out of sight. She smiled a sweet, innocent smile at them, blinking her pretty eyes.

"Buckaroo Banzai!" Perfect Tommy cried. "Watch your language!" he reprimanded with a grin.

Buckaroo glanced back at him sharply. "Why didn't you tell us about her?" he demanded, quite satisfied with himself when Tommy's jaw dropped.

Damn it all, he was gonna enjoy his vacation!

Turning his attention back to the girl, he tilted his head to one side and said as kindly as he could "Well, hello, there. And just where did you come from?"

Seemingly imitating him, she tilted her head to one side.

Buckaroo smiled. He took a tentative step toward her. When she didn't seem frightened, he took another step. "My names Buckaroo. Do you have a name?"

She said nothing,

"Como se chama?" Buckaroo tried some Portuguese, the language spoken in Brazil, the biggest and closest of countries.

When that didn't work, Perfect Tommy offered a French try. "Veux-tu un Franci?"

She tilted her head to the other side, but still did not answer.

Buckaroo bit his lip in thought. "Well, she isn't afraid of us." he observed. He took another step toward her, but an unmistakable click from behind stopped him. Glancing back, he saw Tommy Boy standing in the hatch of the Aurora, her gun drawn and aimed at the child. "Tommy Boy?"

"Just come on back away from her, Buckaroo." Tommy Boy ordered.

"What the hell…?" Perfect Tommy demanded. "You gonna shoot a kid? For what?"

But Tommy Boy ignored him. Stepping out of the hatch, she came forward, reaching out with her free hand to take Buckaroo's arm. "Back into the Aurora. Both of you." she ordered. "I'll fill you in once the hatch is secured and…."

The child suddenly dropped into a crotch with a hiss, her hand coming out from behind her, revealing a rough looking knife with a rugged and chipped blade.

Tommy Boy yanked Buckaroo back just as the girl struck, her blade sinking hilt deep in the ground where the doctor's foot had been.

"Holy crap!" Perfect Tommy cried.

"Inside! Now!" Tommy Boy shouted, putting herself between Buckaroo and his small attacker.

A small hand grabbed Perfect Tommy's hand.

The Cavalier looked down into a pair of clear blue eyes. Despite what he had just seen from the first child, he just couldn't muster alarm at seeing yet another odd little child holding onto his hand as if he might be walking him to school.

But, then, the little boy grinned, revealing his sharp, blood stained teeth.

"Woe!" Perfect Tommy started to jerk away.

But the boy grabbed his hand with both of his and held on while digging his heals in.

"Hey! Let go!"

At his cry, Tommy Boy spun about, looking for her friend.

The little girl yanked her knife out again, shaking the dirt off. Hissing again, she lunged, this time at Tommy Boy, slashing her weapon across the back of the woman's leg.

"Aw!" she cried as the jagged blade ripped open the back of her leg, cutting through skin and muscle

"Tommy Boy!" Buckaroo leaped forward, catching her before she fell and hauling her away from the attack and back towards the hatch.

Perfect Tommy was still struggling with the boy who absolutely refused to release his hold on the Cavalier. "Get off, you little brat!" Tommy snapped, shaking his arm, trying to figure out how to free himself without hurting the kid.

But the boy just grinned. He turned his little blond head to look at yet another boy, a little bigger, a little older, and armed with a knife, who was approaching the scene.

"Well, shit!" Perfect Tommy groaned.

One more time the girl lunged, but, with a wounded Cavalier in his arms, Buckaroo had had enough. Kid or no kid.

When she came, her knife held high over her head, aiming at Tommy Boy's back, Buckaroo turned and kicked, hitting the little girl in the hip, spinning her about and dropping her to the ground.

Recovering some, Tommy Boy, grabbed the edge of the hatch, holding herself upright and freeing Buckaroo to fight. "Perfect Tommy, get inside!" she yelled.

"Love to!" Tommy admitted. He raised a hand to smack the boy away, but, stopped. He just couldn't quite bring himself to hit a kid.

He couldn't hit a kid.

Not a kid.

Not like his dad…

Knuckles on the other hand….

Coming out of the trees like the wild cat Tommy always teased her about being, she attacked the kid with the knife first, grabbing his wrist and swinging about with enough force, that she yanked him off his feet. With little effort, she shoved him in one direction, tossing the knife in the other.

Then Knuckles turned on the other boy.

Whether seeing her as the bigger threat or the greater prize, the boy released his hold on Tommy so suddenly that the Cavalier was sent stumbling back, tripping on a fallen wrench, and landing on his back side in the mud.

The little boy crouched, hissing at the girl.

"Ah, shut up!" Knuckles hissed right back, taking a menacing step towards him.

Behind her, the knife wielding boy crawled toward his fallen weapon.

Close behind his mistress, Oddity leaped onto the scene, coming to stand over the knife, his head down, the fur down his back ruffling, his lips curling up in a low, dangerous snarl.

Baring his teeth, the first boy lunged at Knuckles.

The bounty hunter stepped aside, letting the boy's leap carry him pass to crash on the ground, belly down. Spinning about, she placed her foot in the small of his little back, pinning him to the ground. Then she threw Perfect Tommy a glare. "You couldn't do that?" she demanded.

"Hey, I don't hit kids!" Perfect Tommy shrugged, adding "You'll hit anything."

Again, the little girl wrapped her fingers around her knife. But, before she could lift it, a big boot stomped down on it, snapping the blade in two.

Startled, she looked up to see Rawhide standing over her. Seeing yet another Cavalier, she bared her blood stained teeth and snarled.

He tilted his head to one side and smiled. "Well, howdy-doody to you too." he responded. "Now get! 'Fore I turn you over my knee!" he yelled.

The girl glanced back at her original targets, glanced at Rawhide, then, without another hiss, scrambled back and away. As soon as she was out of reach, she jumped to her feet and ran, disappearing into the trees.

A bark drew their attention to Oddity who, with a mixture of nips, snarls, and barks, chased the boys back into the trees.

"Oddity!" Knuckles called after him as she stepped over to offer her hand down to Tommy. "Come on back here, boy."

But her command was lost in a powerful burst of wind, seemingly the vanguard of the storm.

The sudden wind was nearly too much for the wounded Tommy Boy as she balanced on one leg, her wounded one held up. But both Rawhide and Buckaroo grabbed an arm each, offering their support.

"I'm alright." she assured the men.

"Yea, sure. See that from the pool of blood forming under your boot." Rawhide growled, holding her upright.

Buckaroo looked at the two. "Anyone wanna tell me just what the hell is going on? Did we just get attacked by a couple of kids? On a supposedly deserted island?" he wanted to know.

Tommy Boy smiled slightly. "Well, yea, that about sums it up." she answered, before looking up at Rawhide. "Jersey and Pecos."

Rawhide nodded. "Get inside." he ordered the two. Then looked about. "Knuckles? Perfect Tommy? Two of you alright?"

"Yea." Knuckles answered right off.

But Perfect Tommy was in torment. "My pants!" he cried, turning in circles, trying to get a good look at the mud on the back of his slacks. "This is the finest weave France had! Royalty doesn't get their robes cut from the same cloth! Can you believe…"

"Are you bleeding on them?" Rawhide demanded.

Perfect Tommy stopped, a little startled at the tone. But, he had to admit… "No…."

"Then I don't want to hear it!" the big cowboy snapped. "Saddle up, boys and girls. We still have two Cavaliers out there. Tommy Boy, where are they coming in from?"

Bracing herself against Buckaroo, she answered "Coordinates are on your go-phone. They're coming in from the east and south about two miles out."

"Knuckles…"

"We'll bring them in." Knuckles assured, grabbing Perfect Tommy's arm and dragging him after her while ordering "Oddity, stay put, boy. Stay home!"

With a bark of protest, the dog laid on the ground right where he was and, reluctantly, watched his girl hurry off.

"Rawhide?" Buckaroo started. "What's going on?"

"Inside." Rawhide ordered again. "Baton down the hatches, seal up the house. Nothing and no one gets in."

Buckaroo frowned at not getting an answer, but, he knew and trusted Rawhide. And the cowboy just didn't say anything unless it needed to be done. An explanation would come soon enough.

Rawhide waited until the two were inside before backing into the ship, his eyes scanning the tree line. "Oddity, come on, boy." he finally called.

Oddity gave a last wine of protest, then spun about and ran pass the big man's legs and inside. And Rawhide shut the hatch, sliding the steel bolt into place.

"Jersey." Pecos groaned, leaning back against a tree and closing her eyes.

Jersey stopped, looking back at her. He didn't like what he saw.

She was pale, sweat rolling down her neck. The rain had soaked her through and through, and the wind, despite it's tropical warmth, seemed to send shivers through her body with every labored breath. Her wounded hand was still wrapped in his scarf and tucked into her coat, but the arm itself seemed to be limp.

Quickly the doctor stepped back to her. Tucking his pistol back into its holster, he wrapped an arm around her waist, bracing his other hand against the tree behind her.

As her head rolled forward, dropping against his chest, she actually chuckled. "Hey, there, doc. I got me a man already." she joked weakly.

Ignoring her comment, Jersey carefully lowered her to the ground. Snatching his canteen from his belt, he held it to her lips. "Drink." he ordered.

All she managed was to sip, but it was enough, the cool liquid rushing down to, if not put out, at least cool the burning flames of her insides. With a sigh, she let her head fall back against the tree, closing her eyes again. "Thanks.."

Frowning, Jersey set the canteen beside her, making sure she could reach it with her good hand. "Let me see." he encouraged, carefully opening her coat and pulling the wounded hand out.

Pecos squeezed her eyes tighter, the only sign that she was even aware of what he was doing. Fact was, her hand, arm shoulder…. All hurt like hell. She could feel the blood squeezing through her veins as if they were suddenly too thin and her pounding heart was suddenly pushing too much through. Her joints throbbed. Her skin burned. Her fingers felt as if they were being sucked outside-in into her hand.

Hell, she wasn't even sure if she still had fingers on that hand.

"Ah, damn." Jersey breathed, laying her hand on the scarf for inspection.

Again, Pecos chuckled. "Gotta love your bedside manner, doc."

New Jersey looked up at her, this time smiling slightly at her attempt to lighten the situation. "Sorry." he offered. But looking down at the swollen hand, it was sheer will that kept him from cursing again.

The hand was beet red, the veins down the palm of her hand a deathly white color. The bite no longer bled, but the edges seeped a clear, glistening ooze. The edges of the wound were turned up slightly, the skin already dead, the exposed muscle graying.

Jersey had seen a lot of infected wounds in his day, even helped amputated a limb here and there when the infection had gone too far. But this was too fast, too horrific…

"Hey, Sid?"

The doctor looked up at her again.

This time her eyes were open and she was watching him. "Whoever told you no news was good news didn't know shit." she let him know.

Jersey sighed. "Well, the only good news here is that we're almost home."

"Home." Pecos breathed, her eyes closing again, her head leaning back. "Curling up with Reno in the Bunk House, Mrs. J. bringing in her freshest batch of cinnamon rolls. PT and Billy arguing over who was cheating more on their video games. Rawhide doing paper work. Buckaroo writing another genius medical article."

"Pecos." Jersey called to her. "I meant the Aurora. We're still a bit of a ways off from the Institute." he reminded her.

"Hmmm?" was her sleep blurred mummer.

"Pecos!" Jersey suddenly snapped. Laying her hand down, he cupped her face. "Pecos! Don't sleep!" he commanded, slapping her gently.

Groaning, the girl's eyes fluttered open, and she warned him "You hit me again and I'm gonna…"

"Do whatever you wish. But stay awake!" Jersey repeated. Letting her face go, he tossed the scarf aside. Opening his coat, he ripped off the bottom of his shirt and wrapped the new bandage around her wound.

"Hey." Pecos protested weekly. "Isn't that the shirt Perfect Tommy gave you? He's gonna have a stroke."

Jersey shrugged, gently tucking the hand back into her coat, tucking the material in around her. "I never could pull off that polished look." He moved to take her good arm to help her to her feet again.

But Pecos' arm jerked away. Grabbing the canteen, she threw it over his shoulder, shouting "Get out of here!"

Rising up and spinning about, Jersey caught sight of a little blond boy peeking at them from behind a tree. His little arms were hugging the tree, a knife clutched in one hand. His blood stained grin shined out at them.

"Jersey." Pecos gasped, her voice cracking. "Careful."

But, before either of them could even consider a defense, a hand slapped the boy in the back of the head, bouncing his forehead off the tree and leaving him to fall to the ground, stunned.

Knuckles snatched the fallen knife up, tossing it to Perfect Tommy as he hurried pass to join Jersey and Pecos. "If there was `ever' a case for child abuse…" she growled at the boy as he blinked up at her.

After shaking his head, he looked up at her and bared his teeth in an animistic snarl. He grabbed at her ankle, rolling toward it in an attempt to get his teeth close enough to bite.

"Hey, you little cannibal!" Knuckles kicked him away. "Keep your freakin' teeth to yourself!"

Rolling up into a crouch, he glared up at her with such rage that, when the wind returned in a rush, Knuckles actually thought it was from him.

But he was gone and, again, the Cavaliers were left, mysteriously alone.

"Damn, I hate it when they do that." Knuckles admitted, scanning the trees, searching for any sign of the hungry children.

"What? You preferred he hung around?" Perfect Tommy huffed as he crouched down beside Pecos.

Wasting all her remaining strength on warning Jersey, Pecos was barely conscious, her head slumped forward, legs and good arm laid out about her.

"I rather an enemy I can see over one I can't keep track of." Knuckles answered. She took up a protective stance over the small party, her crossbow out and at the ready.

Perfect Tommy pulled off his slicker and wrapped it around Pecos shoulders. "What's wrong with her?" he wanted to know.

Jersey crouched down again. "She was bitten. Some sort of infection has set in." He helped snap up the slicker around the girl.

"They must have a hell of a bug here abouts." Tommy observed.

"It wasn't a bug." Jersey explained. "It was a little girl."

Both Knuckles and Perfect Tommy looked at him sharply. Then they looked at each other.

"Fuck this." Knuckles growled. "Still can't hit a kid?" she asked Tommy.

Perfect Tommy took a deep breath. "Jersey, you lead, gun out. Knuckles, you take the rear. Shoot anything knee high and blond." he ordered before sliding his arms under Pecos. With Jersey's hand on his elbow to steady him, he stood, lifting Pecos up into his arms.

Nothing more needing to be said, the four started out again, wanting only to get back to the Aurora, out of the rain and wind, and off this god forsaken island.

Perfect Tommy was happy to hand his package off to Buckaroo, who, with Jersey close behind, hurried Pecos to the infirmary.

"You alright?" Rawhide wanted to know, reaching out to proudly rub the young Cavalier's shoulder. He knew the boy must have carried his friend at least a mile or more.

A hell of a hike alone, but with the tensions of possibly being followed and attacked at any minute, forcing himself faster and faster the worse Pecos got.

Perfect Tommy glanced up at him with bright blue eyes and he offered a slight smile. "I'd jus' like to make it all official that none of this, not one little rain drop, was my fault."

Rawhide couldn't help but smile. "Wise ass." he growled, sending him off to Mrs. Johnson's care with a gentle shove.

Knuckles came in last, her cross bow still held at the ready. Not even glancing at the big cowboy, she headed right to the front windows and peered out, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of the surrounding area.

Rawhide followed her. "Reno's in the crow's nest, keeping watch. You should get some sleep." he advised.

Knuckles shook her head. "I'll take watch. The boys need to get this buggy air born."

Rawhide sighed. "Not going to happen in this wind." he answered. "We're all locked up. Safe and sound. We can wait this out."

Knuckles looked up at him, her eyes narrowing. "Can you kill a kid?" she asked right out.

Rawhide met her eyes but found he couldn't answer right off.

It was too big of a question.

Too evil of a question.

One, he had been hoping, he would not have needed to answer.

The little bounty hunter tilted her head toward the outside. "If we stay here, you're gonna have to." she warned. "Coming in, I spotted tracks that weren't there on our way out. Straight line to mask their numbers, but enough that their prints made a deep impression before their rear guard covered it with debris."

Rawhide lifted his chin slightly. "This sounds like more grown up behavior. Their elders finally decided to make an appearance?"

But Knuckles shook her head. "They were all small, children's feet, all bare. Rawhide, there were fifty plus, maybe even a hundred. And they were organized, focused, and taking a walk right out there." She pointed, indicating the tree line only a hundred yards from where the Aurora sat. "Tommy Boy is down to one leg. Pecos might be dying. And you have a cut up arm. And that was, what, three, four of them? Coming at us individually?" She looked out again. "If we don't get air born and now, then we sure as hell better be ready to kill those kids." That said, she pushed away and headed for the armory.

Mrs. Johnson quickly chased after with a steaming cup of something or other and a towel, complaining about the muddy foot prints Knuckles' steel toed boots were leaving on her clean floor.

"Easy." Peggy directed as she helped guide Buckaroo as he lowered Pecos down on to the bed. "She's soaked through, Buckaroo." she breathed, brushing the black bangs away from the girl's face.

"I know." Buckaroo answered as he shook off his own now wet jacket, before bending over the bed and starting on the buttons of the slicker wrapped around Pecos. He paused to lay the back of his hand over her forehead. "She's burning up and freezing all at the same time."

"Watch her hand." Jersey warned as he hurried into the infirmary. Seeing that the Banzai's were getting her out of the wet clothes, he turned his attention to getting the medical supplies needed to care for Pecos' wound.

"Sid, you're wet." Buckaroo pointed out as he slipped Pecos' limp arms out of her shirt, tossing the clothing into a hamper in the corner.

Jersey paused just long enough to wiggle out of his coat and toss it after the shirt, before returning to his work.

"What happened?" Peggy wanted to know, gently laying the wounded hand on a pillow and stepping back so that her husband could get a closer look at the wound.

"Some sort of infection." Jersey was mumbling. He picked a saline bottle and a silver bowl and brought them to the bed. "I think the child that bit her had some sort of venomous saliva…"

"Venomous?" Peggy repeated in disbelief. "We're talking about children here. Human children!"

Buckaroo nodded. "There are some reptiles… Their saliva isn't venomous, but so loaded with bacteria that their spit is deadlier than their bite."

"Children!" Peggy insisted. "Human! Children!"

Jersey poured the saline into the bowl and passed it across the bed to Buckaroo, who was unwrapping the wounded hand. "Could be a condition. A disease that the children have adapted to. This could be a… a…"

"Plague island." Peggy supplied. As if an after thought, her hand came up to her throat., here eyes going big.

Buckaroo glanced up sharply at his wife, then back at Jersey. Plague opened up a whole can of bad worms.

Jersey stared at him for a moment, then quickly said "Buckaroo, you and Peggy…. You need to leave the room." He reached across to take the bowl back. "Get out, shut the door, and wait 'til I've figured this out."

"Sid…" Buckaroo shook his head.

"If it is some sort of plague, I've already been exposed. You and Peggy…. You could still be safe, still clean…"

"Sid, we're all exposed!" Buckaroo cut him off. "Perfect Tommy carried her home. Peggy and I took off her clothing. I've handled the bandages."

"But there's a chance…."

Peggy took up her husband's argument. "Both Tommy Boy and Rawhide have been cut. That's certainly exposure."

"Besides, who's going to look after Pecos while you're getting some dry clothes?" Buckaroo took the bowl back..

"I'm fine." Jersey protested.

"You're soaked through." Peggy grabbed his arm and started to drag him toward the door. "Go dry off. We're not going anywhere." she assured, practically pushing him through the door.

Knowing there was no fighting the united front of the Banzais, Jersey finally nodded. "Yea… alright…. Draw some blood. I'll be right back to take it to the lab." he said over his shoulder as he down the hall.

"You too, Peggy." Buckaroo encouraged.

Peggy threw him a glare. "I'm not wet."

"But, limited exposure…"

"You'll lose that fight quicker than Sid." she warned him, stepping over to the supply cabinet and picking out a syringe. "You take care of the hand. I'll draw the blood."

It took Buckaroo Banzai two breaths to consider continuing the argument and to dismiss it. She, as always, had already won. Just a waste of time… by the looks of Pecos, valuable time.

Tommy Boy practically caught Reno as he jumped down from the ceiling hatch. Slamming back against the wall, she couldn't help but put weight down on her wounded leg. "Ow! Damn it!" she cursed, her leg giving way under her.

"Shit!" Reno grabbed her shoulders, keeping her upright. "Sorry…. I mean…. sorry." he quickly apologized. "I didn't see you. Pecos was…. Perfect Tommy said she was…. "

"Alright." Tommy Boy growled through clenched teeth. Grabbing his arm, she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steady herself. The pain of the cut slowly subsided as she held her leg up, taking deep breaths.

Calming himself, Reno asked "Are you alright?"

She managed to nod. Licking her lips she looked up at him. "The docs are looking after Pecos. Best you give them some time."

Reno stiffened. "So… she was hurt."

Tommy Boy shrugged. "A little bite. Seems an infection has set in. But she's got the best doctors in the world. Both of them. Let them do their job." Another deep breath. "We need to do ours and get her off this damn island."

The man glanced down the hall, wanting to run to the woman he loved despite what he was being told. But, he managed to plant his feet. Taking a gentler hold on his friend, he asked "What do I need to do?"

"The propellers…"

"Fixed. Didn't have a clue what Perfect Tommy was trying to do, but I finished it." he assured.

"Good." Tommy Boy nodded. "Okay. Find the kid. Get him into some dry clothes and drag him back up there. I can't get the programming up, if there's nothing to program."

Reno nodded. "Yea, okay." He started to turn away, but TommyBoy's grip on his arm stopped him. He looked a question at her.

"Reno, Perfect Tommy works, you stand guard." she ordered. "Any thing moves out there, you see anyone… get both of you back inside! No confrontations. No meet and greets. Get inside and lock up behind you! Understood?"

"Are we still talking about children?" Reno asked, shocked at her order.

Tommy Boy looked at him. "If we weren't, we'd be shooting back by now." she answered before letting him go.

Reno hesitated, trying to process. Finally giving up… nothing was making sense anyway… he started down the hall again.

Mrs. Johnson sat at the dining room table, staring at the dinner she had prepared.

Seasoned mash potatoes.

Corn on the cob.

Peppered steaks.

Salad.

Fresh croissants.

Raspberry ice tea.

It was a late dinner. With everything going on, she hadn't gotten it on the table until eight. She had been already with the apologies, ready to shush Perfect Tommy for his "What ya trying to do to my figure?!", ready to run and get the sweet butter and milk and anything else the crew of the Aurora might need.

Two hours later, she was still waiting for the crew to show up.

Not that she was angry that no one showed up for dinner.

Perfect Tommy and Reno were working hard on getting them air born again. And Tommy Boy was downstairs working on some new whatever that would do whatever it was that would make life easier. Knuckles and Rawhide had barred up every window, every door, every air vent on the ship, not to mention cleaned and loaded every gun. Peggy was sitting with Pecos and Buckaroo and Jersey had locked themselves up in the lab, trying to figure out what was wrong with their girl.

All good reasons for missing out on all her hard work getting hot, good food for their cold, tired bodies, filling those empty, growling bellies.

A wine across the table drew her attention.

Oddity was sitting up in Rawhide's chair, casting meaningful glances at the plate of steaks.

Mrs. Johnson sighed. "Well, at least someone is hungry." she mumbled. Reaching across the table, she served the dog a steak.

Oddity offered a bark of appreciation, before digging his teeth into the treat.

The girl smiled, thankful for an acknowledgement of her work…. Even if it was from the family pet.

But, no sooner had Oddity started working a good chunk of the meat in his teeth, than his head came up, his ears flickering. A muffled growl came from deep in his chest.

Mrs. Johnson froze in her seat. She had known the dog far to long to know that he didn't get riled up over squirrels and a little wind. She slowly rose to her feet, her chair sliding against the floor sounding awfully loud just about then. "What is it, Oddity?" she whispered. "What is it, boy?"

Oddity jumped from his chair and bounded for the slider that separated the bridge from the living quarters. Growling, he scratched at the door.

Mrs. Johnson reached back and pulled from a drawer in the secretary a small pistol. Carefully, she followed the dog, reaching the slider. "Easy, boy." she whispered, grabbing a hand full of fur. "Stay with me." she encouraged, before reaching out with her gun hand and shoving the slider open.

The bridge was dark, the power being saved. Even the lights from the control panels were dead, having been scrambled by the storm.

But there was a dim light from the top deck where Perfect Tommy and Reno were working. It cast a dim light down the sides of the Aurora, almost like a glow, illuminating the observation deck just beyond the bridge's big, storm windows.

It was just enough light that it glistened off the rain drops as they bounced off tiny figures covering the deck. Just enough to reflect off blond heads like the reflection of snow. Just enough light to see the bright and eager eyes of the children…

Oddity began to bark, pulling against Mrs. Johnson's hold.

"Oddity, no! Stay with me!" Mrs. Johnson cried, pulling the dog back, her gun coming up. Over her shoulder she yelled "Rawhide! Buckaroo! Someone!"

A child's face pressed against the window, a hand on either side, as if she was looking in on a candy store.

"Go away!" Mrs. J yelled at them.

Another, a little boy, raised a knife, only bits of the blade clean enough to catch the light, and struck the window.

But the storm windows were designed to withstand the debris of a tornado.

A little boy and his knife barely scratched it. But he tried again, dragging the blade down the window, trying to dig his way through. Blade against window had a nails on chalk board sound that made even Oddity to wince, losing a bark.

"Mrs. Johnson?" Rawhide called as hurried into the room from the kitchen.

"Mrs. J!" Knuckles' call was only a breath after as she hurried down the stairs from the sleeping quarters.

"They're here! They're all over!" Mrs. Johnson answered them, pointing at the windows with her pistol.

"Knuckles, hit the lights!" Rawhide ordered. He rushed across the room, grabbing Mrs. Johnson and pushing her back, behind the cover of the slider. "Oddity! Guard! Stay!" he commanded the dog, pointing at the girl.

Oddity obeyed without hesitation, dropping to the floor at Mrs. Johnson's feet. His muscles twitched, his ears working, a low growl rumbling from his throat, but he didn't move from her feet.

"Lights!" Knuckles confirmed as she hit the switches beside the slider.

Instantly, the bright deck lights exploded to life, flooding the deck with light.

Her job done, Knuckles spun about to stand beside Rawhide, both her matching Starr Army revolvers out, aimed, and at the ready. But her guns lowered slightly when the light revealed the deck. "What the crap?" she demanded.

Rawhide frowned. He stepped out into the bridge and looked around.

"What?" Mrs. Johnson hissed at Knuckles.

"There's nothing out there." Knuckles answered, almost sounding disappointed. Straightening up and slipping her right revolver back into the holster, she followed Rawhide, looking about the bridge.

"What?!" The girl practically tripped over Oddity as she spun about to see for herself.

The deck was empty. The wind was blowing across the deck, forcing the rain almost straight across the windows. No where was there any sign that anyone had ever been there.

"What the hell?" Mrs. Johnson demanded pushing pass Knuckles. She waved a frantic hand at the window. "They were there! I swear it! The deck was covered with the little buggers!" She turned on Knuckles. "I'm not making this up!"

"No, you're not." Knuckles agreed. "Oddity doesn't growl at nothing."

"And the wind didn't do this." Rawhide pointed out, running a finger up and down a small scratch on the window about waist high. He looked at Knuckles.

"Well, crap." the bounty hunter growled.

Hunger.

It was the wind.

It was the rain.

It was the trees.

It was the dirt.

It was the wilds.

It was the beating in her chest.

It was the pulsing through her veins.

It was the air in her lungs.

It was peace.

It was war.

It was hunger!

And she was hungry!

So hungry….

The want so powerful it brought tears to her eyes.

So, so hungry…

She was empty, nothing under her skin but cold, dark, wanting blackness.

So empty…

So hungry…

Hungry!

Pecos' hand snapped up so sudden, so hard, Buckaroo never saw it coming. She struck him in the side of the head, slamming him against the wall with a solid crack.

Silently, the doctor slid to the floor, unconscious.

Sitting up, Pecos slipped her bare feet to the floor and rose up.

She blinked down at her friend, the man that had been both a teacher and a brother to her. He had been there when she was sick and sad, healthy and happy. He took her in when she was a nothing street kid trying to make her way to college. Introduced her to the man she loved. Gave her a reason to fight, a reason not to fight. Gave her plenty of reasons just to live.

Dr. Buckaroo Banzai had opened the world for her.

Hungry!

Pecos stepped over him, leaving him on the floor and bleeding. Without a glance back, she opened the door and stepped out into the hall. She paused there, glancing to her left.

The lab.

There was a light in the window of the door, but no movement.

She looked right.

The door to the kitchen, sounds of dish washing and humming coming from within.

Beyond was the dining room and library.

And beyond that the doors that lead to the bridge.

The rooms were dark, closed down for the night.

She turned her eyes upward.

There were some voices, two, barely audible.

Hungry!

Turning, she crossed the darken rooms to the doors, her bare feet padding almost soundlessly. She reached out to the doors and slid them open.

Tommy Boy jerked upright in her seat at the consol, reaching for her pistol. But stopped when she saw who it was. With a sigh of relief, she settled back into her seat. "Geez, Pecos, warn a girl, would you?" She glanced out the big windows again, searching the outside for anything that should have alarmed her before she was willing to fully relax. Then she looked back at Pecos again. "Hey, should you be up? Where's Buckaroo?" she wondered.

But Pecos simply just stood there, looking at her.

Tommy Boy frowned. "Do you want me to get Jersey? He's down stairs. Said he needed something from supplies."

Again Pecos said nothing, the only sign that she was even alive coming in the form of a tilt of her head.

The blond slowly pushed herself to her feet, careful not to put too much weight on her wounded leg. "Why don't you sit down here." she suggested, gently reaching out to take Pecos un-bandage hand and gently pulled her to the chair. "You sit down and keep watch for a few minutes. I'll go get Jersey. Okay?" She turned away, limping toward the spiral stairs leading to the lower deck.

Pecos laid a hand on the pistol that still laid on the consol. She picked it up, turning it in her hands as if it was the first time she had ever seen such a weapon.

"Tommy Boy?" called Mrs. Johnson as she stepped out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel. "I heard you talking…" she started, heading for the bridge. Then she saw who Tommy Boy had been talking to. "Pecos! You're up!" She smiled.

Tommy Boy paused when she heard her. "Mrs. Johnson." she greeted. She started to turn back.

Pecos suddenly stepped up to her and, without hesitation, pushed.

Already off balanced by her wounded leg, Tommy Boy couldn't stop her tumbling backwards. For a breath she felt as if she was floating. Then she knew she was falling.

"Tommy Boy!" Mrs. Johnson cried as she saw her friend tumble down the stair case. She started forward, but a thundering boom slammed her back against the wall. Stunned, she turned her eyes to Pecos again and the smoking gun pointed directly at her. "Pecos….?" she gasped. She looked down at her hand pressed against her stomach. Her hand was filled with blood. "Pecos…" she whispered again, slowly sliding down the wall.

Pecos never looked at the girl as she started down the steps.

Tommy Boy, stunned and hurt, laid at the bottom of the steps in a heap. She groaned, her hands attempting to ward off the pain she felt everywhere. She gasped, almost sobs, when she tried to straighten her leg.

Pecos stepped over her with such little thought, she didn't even notice when she didn't quite clear her friend, stepping on her hair as she passed.

"What the hell is going on?" Jersey demanded as he came out of one of the storage areas. "Pecos? What are you doing up? You should be in bed." he reprimanded, quickly setting down the small box he had been carrying and starting toward his patient.

Then he saw Tommy Boy laying at the foot of the steps. "Oh, god." he gasped, changing direction, "What happened?"

A click drew his attention once more to Pecos.

She held the gun straight out, aimed directly at him.

New Jersey stopped, holding his hands up. "Pecos…" he breathed cautiously. "What are you doing?" he wanted to know, every word spoken slowly, carefully.

She tilted her head to one side, blinking. Reaching back she unlocked the door leading to the outside. Turning, she stepped out into the night and the rain.

"Pecos, don't!" Jersey yelled, leaping after her. But, just as he reached her, she spun to the side, grabbed his out stretched arm and pulled him pass. As he did, she brought the butt of the gun down on the back of his head, knocking him out cold.

He never reached the ground, half a dozen blond children right at hand to catch him.