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************************ WARNING ************************
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* The following text contains written descriptions of   *
* sexual acts between adults, children and adults with  *
* children.  If it is illegal for you to read acts of   *
* this nature, or if you are under age, please stop     *
* reading right now.                                    *
*                                                       *
* This story is a work of fiction.  Any similarities to *
* actual people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.*
*                                                       *
* (c) 2003-2005, Kenn Ghannon.  All rights reserved.      *
* Any republication or retransmission of this document, *
* severally or collectively, without the author's       *
* express written permission is prohibited.             *
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Chapter Three: Taking Stock
After a while, the sun grew too hot and our skin was far too tender to remain on the beach.  With Jamie helping me, I managed to stand and hobble the short distance to the edge of the trees.  There was some shade there and it helped to cool us, if only a little.  I leaned back against the bark of what I thought was a coconut tree, but I was too tired and in too much pain to look.

Jamie's presence at my side had a calming, relaxing effect on me.  It was almost as if I had been incomplete for the past 9 years and not until she was again close to me was I truly, finally whole.  Eventually, basking in the comfort of my sister's presence, the tree shading me from the pounding sun, I closed my eyes again and just rested.  I had slept for three days but I felt as if I could sleep for another three.  Everything about me hurt, right down to my toe nails.  I'm not sure when I drifted off.

When I woke again the sun had long set and I was actually shivering a little.  For that brief moment between sleep and wakefulness, I was able to believe that the past few days had been a crazy nightmare and that I'd wake up in my own bed.  It was a wonderful, fleeting dream that disappeared into the ether as soon as consciousness flooded me completely.

The flickering of light drew my eyes further up the beach.  Someone had started a roaring fire on the beach and there were a number of figures sitting around it.  The hypnotic pulsing of the flames cast strange shadows, giving the whole spectacle a surrealistic tint that baffled me for a moment.  When I blinked, though, the illusion was shattered and I was able to see some of the faces.  I recognized Jamie, Sarah and Jan immediately, but the others were just vague memories surrounding the re-loading at Miami.

I nearly went back to sleep but my curiosity overcame my body's loud protests.  I struggled to a knee, pain lancing throughout my abdomen.  Using the tree I had been resting upon for balance, I slowly made it to my feet.

Immediately, Jamie was at my side.

"You shouldn't be up, Mikey," she scolded me, insinuating herself under my arm.  "You should just rest some more.  There's nothing you can do tonight anyway."

"I know, sis," I responded contritely.  "I just want to get some warmth."

"Oh," she replied quietly.  It hadn't occurred to her that I might be cold.  "In that case, we dragged an old dead wood that you can lean against."

I would've laughed at her turn around, but I didn't dare.  Just a few days ago, she wouldn't have thought to offer me a civil word and now she was half-carrying me to a comfortable spot in front of the fire.  I knew that we had some tough discussions ahead of us but at the moment I decided just to enjoy being around my sister again.

As I sat, with Jamie's help, I noticed Sarah's haunted eyes looking at the fire without really seeing anything.  I knew she was in a crisis - weren't we all? -- but I wasn't quite sure what I could do about it...or even if I could do anything at all.  I tried smiling reassuringly at her, but she never even looked at me.

"Hey, Cap," Jan greeted me hesitantly.  "Welcome back to the land of the living."  Jan's eyes had a bit of that haunted look, too, but I could sense the strength and determination moving the fear further and further back.  Jan was a fighter, which is one of the reasons I had chosen her as my co-pilot.  She hadn't had the credentials of some of the other applicants, but there was something about her.  I had endured some jokes because of it from one or two of the other pilots I employed - heck, as beautiful as she was I wondered myself whether that hadn't shadowed my selection somewhat - but as soon as I saw her fly solo I knew the real reason I'd hired her.

When Jan flew, she became the airplane.  She knew intuitively everything that was going on, able to assimilate even the most minor facts and make the correct decisions.  I was a good pilot, maybe even a great one.  Jan was simply the best I had ever seen.

I suppose her good looks had cost her some jobs.  Honestly, she simply looked too beautiful to be a capable pilot.  Her auburn hair was cut shoulder length and it framed a model's face.  Captivating brown eyes, a thin sliver of a nose, and full red lips set in pink, dimpled cheeks drew your eyes to her face even as her full breasts commanded your attention elsewhere.  Add hips that begged to be held and long, rounded legs that begged to be caressed and you had the makings of a model more than a pilot.

Maybe that explains why she became such a good pilot.  Instead of compensating for her beauty, she had to work harder to become a pilot in spite of it.

At Jan's raised eyebrows, I brought my attention back to the present and left her motives for becoming a pilot in the past.  I nearly chuckled at her continued stare; Jan was almost as much my sister as Jamie was.  Although we had flown hundreds of hours together in cramped quarters, we had never been intimate preferring a camaraderie that transcended sexuality.  Simply, we were just best friends...and that was enough.

"How are we doing, co-pilot," I said in my gruffest voice.  Based on my weakness, however, I think I came across more pathetic than mean.

Jan, though, laughed.  I'm not sure if her laughter was because of me or to relieve the tension of our situation, but it worked.  Her musical giggles brought chuckles from around the fire.

I smiled, letting myself enjoy this moment. Unfortunately, it ended all too soon, the chuckles dying back into that uncomfortable silence.

"What's our situation, Jan," I asked more softly.

"Actually, it could be worse, Mike.  We've got fresh water and some edibles around, not to mention a sea of fish.  That should keep us from starving or dying of thirst, anyway.

"The bad news is that wherever we are, it's pretty much uninhabited - or else the people are really shy.  We walked for about 4 hours up and down the beach and into the forest and didn't find a hint of anyone else around here."

"You walked how much?" I asked, my face trying to put together the numbers.  I couldn't help but wonder how long my nap had been.

Jan looked at my face and laughed.  "Don't get too worked up, Rip Van Winkle.  You only slept a few hours.  *I* didn't walk, *WE* walked.  Some of us went up the beach and some down.  I took a few of us into the trees."

"How many of *us* are there?" I asked quietly.  I dreaded the question, but I had to know.  We had started out with a group of 30 - 20 girls, 7 boys and 3 adults; how many had survived?  Just from glancing around the fire I could tell that not everyone was here - but I held out the barest glimmer of hope that the others were somewhere else.

Jan knew what I was thinking and her face fell.  The night turned as quiet as a mausoleum.  "18," she began.  "You, me, your sister and Ms. Clemons, 12 of the girls and 2 of the boys."

My eyes closed, a pained expression taking over my face.  I dropped my head forward, unable to comprehend.  12 dead.  12 children gone.  Had I not been fast enough?  Had I not gotten enough of the children out??

"It's not your fault, Mikey," Jamie whispered in my ear, her voice breaking.  She sat next to me, her arms around me.  "You got everyone out of the plane, we think.  The storm...we just couldn't keep everyone in the rafts.  Some of the waves threw people out and we...we...we couldn't find them in the dark."

"She's right, Mike," Jan whispered.  "You got everyone out.  The storm got them.  There was nothing you could do.  Nothing anyone could do."

Tears filled my eyes and I cried in futility.  Cried in pain and anger.  I went over the crash in my head, looking at it from every vantage point.  Could I have gotten more out of the engine?  Could we have made it to dry land?  No matter how I looked at it, I couldn't see a single thing wrong with each of my decisions.

I didn't know what else I could have done nor did I know what to do now.  When the pain and agony of those 12 deaths finally peaked within me, I buried my face in my sister's shoulder and finished crying.

As with all things, eventually I could cry no more.  Self-pity was not what was needed here.  12 souls were beyond my reach, but the remaining 18 needed me.  I would not let them down.  I would do everything in my power to see them safely home again.

With a false air of determination, I turned to Jan.  "Is this everyone?"

Jan looked into my eyes for a moment, searching for something.  Apparently she found what she was looking for because she nodded absently, an almost contented look coming over her.

I turned and looked at the faces around the fire.  No one looked back and the silence was deafening, marred only by the soft swell of the surf and the occasional crackle of the fire.  I wanted to break that silence but I didn't know how; I didn't know any of these faces.

I turned to the girl beyond Sarah.  The flickering of the fire made it difficult to see her clearly, but as my eyes adjusted to the changing light I managed to make her out.  Her eyes were young but the lines on her face made her seem older somehow.  Those tired lines wrapped around her pale blue eyes and the bags under them told of sleepless nights.  The lines and dark circles were not able to hide the cute curve of her cheeks or the soft pudge of her nose.  Her lips were thin and set in a tight line that enhanced the dull deadness of her eyes.  A soft wind blew through her frazzled hair, twisting it this way and that.  She wore what had once been a long white t-shirt that hung over her knees as she sat on the dead wood.  Her arms crossed beneath what would one day be breasts but for now they were just soft mounds.

"Mattie," Jamie whispered, her lips unconsciously brushing against my ear as she spoke to me.  "She's in 7th year, I think.  12 or so.  Her parents sent her to Hairy Mounds because they both travel for their jobs."

"Hairy Mounds?" I whispered in confusion.

"It's what we call Fairmount, Mikey," Jamie replied, the brush of her lips making me feel warm and uncomfortable though I couldn't quite figure out why.  I suddenly became aware of her hair brushing against me in the breeze and the feel of her skin against my own was raising goose flesh for some reason.

I quickly moved on to the next person around the fire rather than try to analyze what I was feeling.

"Who's she?" I asked.

"The next girl?  That's Liz - short for Elizabeth.  She's in my class - 10th grade.  She's pretty cool, really.  Has an English accent."  Liz was blonde, with her hair pulled back into the remains of a pony tail.  Her eyes, like Mattie's, were soft blue but set close in on her long, thin nose.  Like Mattie's they had a dead and haunted look echoing within them.  Liz wore a tank top that was ripped and fraying down around her blue jean shorts.  Unlike Mattie, her breasts were fairly well defined against her shirt and I could just make out the pointed tips of her nipples against her shirt.

With a blush, I moved my eyes on to the next girl.

"Beth," my sister informed me in a whisper, answering my unspoken question.  "Also short for Elizabeth.  She's also in my class.  She's only 14, though.  She skipped a grade and might skip another - she's really smart.  She's the one you were trying to save when...at the end."

Beth had soft, braided, black hair that framed her caramel skin.  Her nose was on the pudgy side, but her brown eyes were somehow soft and gentle.  Her face was long rather than round, but her flawless skin made it beautiful none-the-less.  Her lips were full, and set close beneath her nose.  Underneath, her chin was soft and round.  She, too, wore a t-shirt but hers was yellow.  Underneath her tee, breasts far too large for her age bulged enticingly.  'A c-cup, maybe,' I thought to myself, feeling guilty for looking at the young girl in that light.

Her eyes glanced up at me, but looked quickly away when she saw me looking at her.  My blush only deepened.

"I think she has a bit of a crush on you, brother dear," Jamie whispered, repressing a light laugh.  "Next to her is Andrea.  You should find her...interesting.  Most men do."

I turned to the next girl and I could see what my sister was talking about.  Andrea was another blonde, like Liz.  Her eyes, though, were not blue...hazel maybe, or green.  It was hard to say.  Her face, though, was the face of a model.  It was flawless; soft, milky cheeks, full, red lips, and thin eyebrows surrounding a soft, nearly pointed nose.  As my eyes traveled down her, they were drawn to her full breasts and I nearly gasped in amazement.  Her breasts were very large, at least a d-cup, and round.  Her waist was thin, a fact easily seen by her bare mid-riff.  Her tee was white, and knotted beneath her breasts, possibly making them look larger than they were - but I didn't think so.  Her legs were stretched before her shooting out from the shortest shorts I had ever seen and they, too, were flawless and perfect.  She didn't look like it was possible for her to be in school...she should be in college, at least.

Jamie's whispered laugh shook my attention.  "Told you.  Would you believe she's only 13?"

Scared to trust my voice, I merely shook my head in amazement.

"Most people can't.  Word is that she was sent to Hairy Mounds because she was too...promiscuous for her parents to handle.  She doesn't talk much, though."

"Next to her," Jamie went on either not noticing my creeping blush or choosing to ignore it, "are the female twins Patricia and Tracey.  Don't try to tell them apart, no one can.  They're seniors - 17."

Patricia and Tracey had brown hair surrounding round, little faces.  Their brown eyes were framed by bushy eyebrows and a long, almost flat nose.  Their thin lips were separated slightly and showed pearly white, straight teeth.  They both wore halter tops, soft, pale blue for the one on the right and a deep burgundy for the one on the left.  They huddled together, either out of fear or to keep each other warm.

"Beyond them are the male twins.  I think their names are Alex and Tony, but I'm not sure.  They're from Sandoval Academy - we don't have much interaction with them so I've only know them since we started the trip."

It was clear the boys were of Spanish descent.  They each had golden skin that gleamed in the flickering light.  Each sported short-cropped, dark hair that sat above bushy eyebrows.  Below these were hard brown eyes that gleamed in the fire.  Their noses were short and full and they had a soft growth of hair above and below their thin-set lips.

They each wore white wife-beaters that showed off their muscular arms and hard chests but their legs were covered in bell bottom jeans.  Their hands were planted solidly on their knees but I watched the arms flex and release, like they wanted to do something but couldn't think of anything to do.  I imagined they felt as I felt, frustrated and powerless.

"Morgan's on the other side of the twins," Jamie continued, her warm lips still touching my skin.  I couldn't believe how sensitive my ears were, but I imagined I could feel every ridge in the touch of her skin.  "She's the youngest, only 10.  She isn't even supposed to be here - the trip is only supposed to be 12 and up - but word is her parents paid off the school to take her.  They're working in Europe; diplomats or something."

Morgan looked miserable.  Her dark hair was cut in a page-boy style, but the bangs had deteriorated into frizzy little frays that danced in the wind.  Her dark eyes glittered in the dancing light as if the tears held within were in imminent danger of being released.  She sniffed occasionally, holding back those tears tightly but her trembling lips put the lie to her brave front.  It was evident that she was huddled within herself not only in the way her arms wrapped tightly around her knees but in the scrunched, uncomfortable look of her face itself.  I felt my heart go out to her; I wanted to hold her and let her cry.  I wanted to take away all her fear and agony.

"Next to her is Samantha, but everyone calls her Sam.  She's...outgoing.  Talkative.  I don't think she shut up at all on the plane ride.  Everyone seems to like her, though, so I guess it's more of an endearing quality than a nuisance."

Maybe Sam couldn't keep quiet on the plane ride, but she sure didn't have that problem now.  Like everyone else, she remained silent...lost in her own thoughts.  Her brown eyes gazed within the fire with almost a longing expression that I couldn't quite place.  Her face was dirty, smudges on both her cheeks hiding doing nothing to detract from her attractiveness.  Her long brown hair blowing in the wind, her thin eyebrows, the soft curve of her nose and the full pout of her lips set in the tanned bronze of her skin all added to her charm.  But somehow, she was cute rather than beautiful.  Perhaps it was the long neck rising from pert, little breasts clothed in a ruffled black tee or the soft length of her thin arms.  Something hinted at beauty but didn't quite make it.

"Chris - short for Christine - is next to Sam.  She's a year ahead of me so probably around 16 years old.  She's something of a mystery really...she actually wanted to go to Fairmount.  No one knows why.  She's a bit of a nerd and sort of sticks to herself."

Christine's skin was dark, though the flicker of the fire brought out the lighter, brownish tones.  Her dark hair was braided in tight corn rows.  Her face set her apart, though.  It was longer than wide and was so gaunt it looked like it was almost sunken in on itself.  The rest of her body bore that out: her arms and legs, though long, were very thin and her torso was wiry and lean.  If not for the feminine features in her face, she could almost be passed off as a boy rather than a young woman.

"Holly is on the other side of Chris.  Holly has actually already graduated but Hairy Mounds let her come on the trip anyway.  She's so smart it's almost scary - straight A's since forever.  She could've skipped all kinds of grades but her parents wouldn't let them.  They were afraid that the accelerated learning would harm her somehow.  She's really nice though...I've met people who weren't half as smart and they've really held it above you.  She doesn't.  She's one of the friendliest people I've ever met."

Holly was a redhead and like most redheads, my sister included, she had very pale skin that almost seemed to glow in the firelight.  Where my sister's accompanying freckles were light and fairly spread out, Holly's face was covered nearly completely in them.  Somehow, though, they seemed almost an affectation rather than a detriment - they added to her beauty.  I'm not saying that she was beautiful - she wasn't.  She was attractive, though.  She was also short though I couldn't tell how short while she was sitting cross-legged in the sand.  In a strange way she reminded me of a mythological creature like a pixie or a fairy.  She was small, but pretty...as I always imagined one of those creatures would be.

"Elaine's next to Holly," Jamie whispered in my ear.  "She's a little strange...I'm actually kind of surprised she came on this trip.  I mean, she's only 12 and I've heard of her - a lot.  Word is she doesn't sleep and walks the halls at night.  Plus, she's always making up these outlandish tales about her exploits.  They're really creative but really wacky.  One day she talks about how she's been taken by aliens and the next she's talking about how she's climbed Mt. Everest.  I mean, it's always something new with her."

Elaine's light brown hair was perfectly straight and fluttered gently in the wind.  She was almost constantly brushing it out of her face.  Other than that, though, she was perfectly average.  Her eyebrows were plucked, but not overly.  Her nose was neither full nor slim.  Her eyes were brown and her mouth was thin.  She looked so...ordinary.  She was neither fat nor thin, neither busty nor flat-chested.  She didn't look like she was tall nor did she look like she was short.  She was even dressed ordinary in a light blue blouse and blue jeans.  Completely average.

"Finally, that's Karen on your right.  She's a year below me but she's really nice.  She sometimes hangs around with me and my friends.  A bit quiet and shy, but she's cool.  She's artistic, always carving or painting or drawing.  She sketched me once with pen and paper and it was really, really good.  Only took her 15 minutes, too."

Karen's hair was so blonde it was nearly white and hung straight to the middle of her back.  Her skin, though, was tanned a dark bronze.  It made an interesting contrast...though I couldn't quite determine whether her skin accented her hair or vice-versa.  Her eyes were a soft blue.  Against her skin, her eyes seemed to almost shine.  Her nose was long and thin and ended just short of her full, red lips.

She wore a short-sleeved yellow shirt that was opened to the waist.  Underneath was a white tank top that ended in dirty white shorts.  From her shorts sprang two long, firm legs that finished in feet that were partially buried in the sand.  I watched as her toes wiggled and churned beneath the sand, covering and uncovering them in turn.

"Put your eyes back in your head, bro," Jamie teased me.  I felt, though, that her teasing was almost forced.

"I wonder what everyone is thinking," I whispered back softly.

"I miss my husband," Sarah cried softly.  I jumped a little and I could feel Jamie jump as well.  I was almost positive that Jamie and I had been whispering low enough so that only we could hear, but Sarah seemed to be answering my whispered question.

"I didn't know you were married, Ms. Clemons," Jamie said to her cautiously.  "We...I...just assumed you were single."

"We've been married for less than a year...still on our honeymoon kind of.  I didn't want to leave him for the month, but he was planning on taking a vacation and meeting us down there for a week.  He...he...he said that I should go.  That the girls needed me..."  Sarah's voice broke down and the tears started flowing.  Jan scooted over and consoled her, and Sarah just buried her face in Jan's shoulder.

I didn't know what to say.  I didn't know if I should say something or comfort her or what.  The others were watching the two of them and the silence grew even more uncomfortable until finally I felt I just had to say something.

"Don't worry, Sarah," I started.  "We'll be out of here soon.  They're probably looking for us now.  You'll see.  Heck...we might even be out of here tomorrow."

Sarah stopped crying for a minute.  She looked up from Jan's shoulder right into my eyes.  In that moment, I felt like I was being judged...and found seriously wanting.  "How do you know, Mike?  How can you be so sure."

I had no answer.

