I AM ALIVE! And, so is this sequel. To those or you who have stumbled upon this story with out reading the previous I warn you to go do so. Find Slices and Scars on my profile. And, to those of you who have read it, I'm sorry for the wait! I've been working on a web comic (that is bl of course) and didn't find time to squeeze this in! Not only that, but I've been suffering WRITERS BLOCK. So, here is a short Chapter One. Don't worry…all questions will be answered in the next chapter. And…if you wouldn't mind checking out my comic its right here… .com/

*Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Lord of the Flies.

[Lost and Found]

[Wanderers]

Jack looked down at his hands, confusion lacing every thought that crossed his mind. His hands were thin and dirty. Filthy red hair obstructed his vision, and his stomach growled in uncontrollable hunger. Jack Merridew was twelve years old again, standing on the shores of an island that could have been his future empire.

The awkward boy sat down on the plat form, where all the boys held meetings so long ago. "What's going on?" Jack murmured to himself. His mentality was that of an adolescent boy…not the scrawny twelve year-old he used to be. A rustle in the bushes startled him, and he stood up quickly.

A thin dark boy came crawling out of the foliage. Course black hair covered his eyes and he was sniveling, sobbing as he crawled towards Jack.

It was Simon.

"Why?" Simon cried. "We were in the same choir, Jack!" His body was sliced with grotesque wounds.

"Why would you order them to kill me?" He whined. The bushes behind Simon rustled again, and this time, Piggy wobbled out. The fat boy no longer wore specs and the top part of his head was clear gone. Blood spilled over his face and he coughed up some of the gooey red liquid.

"I can't see without my specs!" He wailed. "What's better, to be a bunch of savages or to be sensible, like Ralph is!"

Jack wanted to run but his feet were stuck, like he was caught in quick sand. He watched in horror as the bushes rustled once more and a final figure stepped from the dark forest. Roger.

The dark boy held a stick sharpened at both ends. He had a malicious grin plastered onto his face and handed the stick to Jack. The red head gasped in complete terror. Ralph's head was stuck crudely on the top of the stick.

"You asked for this, right Chief?" Roger smirked.

Jack's eyes snapped open and he was slapped in the face by cold London air. The red head blinked multiple times in confusion before relaxing. He leaned his head back against the cool brick of the rundown building he was sitting against. There was a light pressure on his shoulder, and Jack looked over cautiously. Ralph was asleep, a frown etched onto his beautiful face. He must be caught in a dream too, Jack thought bitterly. The island had plagued them both with endless nightmares.

You're an idiot.

Jack shivered, but was careful not to rock Ralph too much. The two boys had been on the road for about a week. They both obtained a few pounds by doing odd jobs. Jack thought there was a boys' home on the outskirts of the city, but it appeared now that they were hopelessly lost.

"Jack—" a groggy voice mumbled distantly. The previous weight on Jack's shoulder disappeared, and Ralph ran a hand through his grimy blonde hair. The fair boy frowned as he did this action; no doubt it brought back strange memories of a distant land.

"Yes?" the ex-chorister answered softly. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around Ralph's thin frame. There were only a few people walking around the streets at this time of the night and they hardly looked interested.

"Do you know the time?"

"No."

"Do you think we'll get there soon?" He meant the boys' home. Jack's eye twitched and a faux grin plastered across his freckled face.

"Yeah, today or tomorrow I assume." Liar. The lie passed through his pale lips with ease, and dispersed in the form of steam into the dying atmosphere. If there was something Jack Merridew had learned over the years, it was lying. He's been lying to himself every since he arrived back from the island.

"This all of you?" The big man in the uniform asked, after loading each boy onto the cruiser.

"Yep." Roger said monotonously.

"There were two more...no…three." Ralph mumbled idly, to the rest of the boys, he seemed mad. The naval officer took interest to Ralph's statement.

"Do you know where they are?" That's when Jack cut in.

"They died when the plane crashed."

The sudden memory took the ginger by surprise and he squeezed his eyes shut angrily. Now, Jack rested his head on Ralph's shoulder. It was boney and uncomfortable. He heard Ralph sigh.

"You think they're looking for us?" The fair boy asked curiously, staring into dark space.

"I don't think anyone from the school is," Jack answered honestly, "But, our parents may be."

"This is daft," Ralph muttered. "When we get to the boys' home, what are we going to do?"

"Shower."

"I'm being serious."

"The one I know of has a factory near it. I'm sure after we eat a bit we could lie about our age or something and work there," Jack murmured. He felt Ralph's tiny hand in his filthy red hair.

"We'll have to change our names," he said wisely. Jack almost flinched, he didn't even think of that.

"We'll worry about that when the time comes."

"Which…according to you… is tomorrow," Ralph reminded him. Jack groaned in frustration.

"Exactly, but it isn't tomorrow, so lets just rest up until it gets light again. Until we get to where we need to be, we're just wanderers. We don't need names yet." Ralph shuffled into a new position, but Jack kept his head rested on the fair boy's shoulder. "Go to sleep, and don't worry…I have this whole thing figured out."

I wish.