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It's been nearly a week since Mathias has seen anything and it's because of this -- this weird sense of relief that has surrounded him lately -- that he walks straight into the tumbled piles of vines without a second thought. He's too busy talking to Lucy to really notice and it isn't until his feet tangle, until he feels a vine sliding around his ankle that he stops and looks down at what they've both walked into.

"No," he says softly. There's a dull thrum of fear at the base of his skull, but that's been there almost all waking moments for the past several months. He tries to remember how they've disappeared before, how it's all proven to be nothing, but even when he closes his eyes and opens them again, the vines are still there. One has circled Lucy's leg, but when he looks at it, it stops moving.

Turning, Mathias intends on heading straight to the boardwalk and toward the Compound, but the beach doesn't look like his beach anymore and he can't see where the boardwalk comes through the trees. Instead there's a hill. A path winds through the vines that cover it, bright green leaves shaped like hands and brilliant, blood red flowers. He turns away from the hill, reaching for Lucy's hand without thinking and it isn't until he's facing the water again that the arrow whistles through the air and lands only inches from his left foot.

It isn't real. That's what he keeps trying to tell himself. None of this is real.

Another arrow arches through the air toward them and Mathias closes his eyes.

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"Jesus, Julie, don't," he snaps, launching himself after her without even thinking about - the way he used to launch himself after Laurence on dragon-back. He misses his harness. He misses feeling held.

Without much else to do, hampered by the lack of one hand, he stamps one booted foot down on the vine, trying to stop it from going anywhere.

It won't take her, not until she's weak or dead, Mathias knows that, but even so, he wraps his arm around Lucy to hold her steady. "It's alright," he says and around them the vines quiver, almost as if they're responding to what he's said. Almost as if they're laughing.

"Be careful," he says to Julie. "The sap will burn if you get it on your skin. If you cut it, it might retreat." Or more will come out to help, as it did with Henrich's body, but he doesn't want to say that. He doesn't even want to think it. All he wants it to be off this hill, somewhere safe with these people.

It's instinctive, holding on to Mathias to steady herself, though Lucy doesn't quite feel like she's going to be pulled anywhere just yet. She needs it beyond just the physical. Awful as she knew being up here had been from what he's told her, being here, seeing these vines for herself, the way they're practically fucking alive, is something else entirely. Logic says that they'll be fine, but that doesn't do her any good now, her ankle stinging where the vine's curled around it. She doesn't want to get out of here later. She wants it to be done now.

"Thanks," she says weakly, swallowing hard. She's lived through a lot, she's even fucking died before, albeit in someone's memory, but those were all things that happened quickly. This is different, more real. "And they just do this? Come at us like this?"

When I was a prisoner of the Gestapo I was afraid all the time, but at least I knew what I was dealing with. I don't understand this situation, and that scares me more than anything. I watch the vines I cut slither under John's boot, and think about the men shooting at us to keep us here, and it just makes me angry.

"Who are they to make us stay here with vines that laugh?" I stalk to the edge of the hill and glare down at the men there. I am a Wallace and a Stuart and I am not about to be subject to the whims of anonymous bullies just because they're armed. "I'm not staying here just because they say so."

It only strikes my arm, a glancing blow, but I only make it a couple of steps down the hill before the arrow drives me back.

I am so shocked that someone would actually shoot me with an arrow that it doesn't even hurt at first.

The minute she moves he's going after her - it's not even a conscious thought that he has, just something that happens. He's been in situations not unlike this, and the last thing, the very last thing that he wants is to see her injured.

And he's so concerned that he misses the arrow entirely until it skims her and actually hits him, embedding itself in his shoulder with a sick thud and sending him reeling back.

"Shit!" Mathias curses, so surprised that he's swearing in English. One moment, he's preparing to answer Lucy's questions, to try and explain a little more about the vines and what they'll have to be ready to, the next he sees Julie going down the hill and John going after her.

"No!" he shouts and he starts forward, still with his arm around Lucy because he doesn't want to step away from her, but he doesn't want to put her at risk either. It's not likely that she'll let him leave her at the top of the hill either. He needs to make sure they're both okay and he glances at Lucy as he starts toward them, knowing she's going to follow him. "Be careful."

Though a little unsteady still, Lucy doesn't hesitate to hurry forward alongside Mathias. She's not about to just stand around here alone, and besides, there's no way not to worry about what might happen to the others, her breath catching in her throat. Maybe there's little to nothing they can do up here, but she still won't just let harm come to any of them.

Except it is, apparently, a little too late for that, her eyes going wide at the sight of the arrow sticking out of John. "Oh, fuck," she says, which is useless, she knows, but she's at a loss for anything else. "Your shoulder."

I didn't expect John, or anyone else, to follow me like he did and am beyond horrified to see him struck by the arrow meant for me.

I am much too small to be able to support him for long, but I grab his arm and try to lead him to whatever safety might be found here.

"Help him." Desperate, as i can feel the vines pulling at both of us, I look at Mathias and Lucy.

I don't want to die here on this hill myself, but I absolutely will not allow it to take John.

The pain is...not unexpected. He's been in pain before. In that moment, he remembers the impact of a musketball, the wrench of the canon slipping past him and pulling at his shoulder. He remembers all of the rope burns and the tears and the bruises. Dimly, he's aware of Julie.

He stumbles and hits the ground.

Mathias begins muttering in German, bending down to yank at the vines without worrying about their sap. They've burned him before, they'll burn him now and he'll scar again, but none of that will matter if he can't get the others off the hill. Away from the vines, away from the men.

The vines titter again, then a whisper ripples across the hill. Oh, fuck. Lucy's voice, then Julie's. Help him.

Mathias rips the vines free of them, then grabs John, hauling him up the side of the hill. "Be careful," he warns them. The vines mimic his voice all the way back up the hill.

Though it probably should have occurred to her sooner, it's only now, hearing voices echoed back at them, her own among them, that Lucy realizes the part of this that's the most frightening. The physical danger, she could take. She's dealt with just as bad before, if not worse. The ways in which this can fuck with their heads, though, that's more unsettling than she's entirely prepared for, shivering as she follows close behind Mathias.

"What do we do?" she asks, more helpless than she'd care to admit to. "I mean, unless there's some sort of medical equipment hiding somewhere up here..."

I've had basic first aid training, both in the WAAF and the SOE, but not once did anyone ever cover what to do in the case of shot by arrow or scalded by vines and the way the vines are mocking us, throwing our voices back at us, is unnerving me so much I can hardly think straight.

Which I suppose is exactly their point.

Still, next to Maddie, John is my best friend. I've made quite a few friends and acquaintances since I've been on this island, kissed a few boys even, but hardly anybody knows me so well, beyond what I've chosen to show them, and loves me in spite of it. I will not let him die here.

"It didn't go all the way through, but I don't know if that's good or bad, or if we ought to take it out." I'm talking mostly just to try to clear my head. I have no idea if I'm making any sense at all. "Should stop the bleeding, at least."

I shimmy out of my slip and drop to the ground beside him. When I peel his shirt away from the arrow to get a better look at his wound I have to blink away tears preventing me from seeing it clearly.

"You can tease me about all my layers of clothing later."

I only hope he can hear me as I sop up his blood with my slip.

"It's good," he says, swallowing, voice vague but definitely there. If he breathes deep, he can get past the pain. "Pulling the arrows through is...bloody awful, I imagine." He swallows, frowning. "I don't think it's hit anything. Pull it out and tie it up."

He grits his teeth. More than anything, it seems important not to pass out. Not here. Not now.

It's incredible, he thinks, how easy it is to revert to the same postion he held on that other hill. Mathias melts into the background, helping where he needs to, but not taking charge and not offering any direction. As before, he doesn't know what should be done and it seems that Julie, like Jeff, is at least willing to step up in a way Mathias has never been able to.

He looks at Lucy as he strips out of his own shirt, then offers it to Julie to help with the blood. He wants to say something to her, but he can't. There have been many people on this island who have been important to him, but he isn't sure anyone has felt like family in the way Lucy does and he hates that he's put her in danger.

"Es tut mir leid," he murmurs and he doesn't know if she'll understand him, but he doesn't want to risk the vines throwing his apology back at them in English. As if they know exactly what he's trying to avoid, they rustle, the words quiet at first.

John ist gestorben, they hiss. John ist gestorben.

Lucy goes tense, trying not to shiver as the vines speak again. It's something that she thinks will grow less startling, but then, she doesn't want that to be the case. She wants to be out of here, somewhere with doctors, where John can get looked at and they'll all be safe. Up here, right now, she's helpless and she hates it, almost as much as she hates having to be this damn scared.

"What does it mean?" she asks, wary, hanging back a few steps. Much as she wishes she had an article of clothing to spare, she doesn't, and that's a little frustrating, too, in its own right.

"Right. I'll just pull an arrow out of you. Jesus," I mutter. I do try, but I can't. I don't know if my hands are too small and too slick with blood already or if I'm just not strong enough, but when I pull on the arrow it scarcely budges. That I know I'm hurting him even more doesn't help.

I grab Mathias' hand when I take his shirt from him. "Please. I can't." Help him the vines say in my voice, and I let out a babyish sob of frustration and fear.

All I can think about is the air raid the day Maddie and I became friends, and that gunner who bled to death right under my hands.

"They're saying he's dead," I say, and I'm getting angry again. I suppose it's better than abject terror, but neither is really very helpful when you get right down to it. "They need to shut up before somebody comes up here with a lawn mower. Because he isn't, and he's not going to be. Not today."

I swear the vines are laughing at me.

She pulls at the arrow and it jars, making him cry out, though he bites down over it, not wanting to make this any worse for her His head swims. The vines keep whispering, insidious. He reaches out for Julie with his hand.

"I'm not dead," he says. "And I'm not going to be. It's okay."

He looks up. "Mathias, you need to help her. You need to get it out of me and then you need to tie it up."

And his eyes keep straying to the vines.

As before, when he's told what to do, he can do it. He reaches for Lucy, careful not to touch her skin where the sap has already bled onto his fingers. His palms are burning, but he hardly notices this time around, just another familiar sensation in a far too familiar situation.

"Lucy, Julie, be prepared to put pressure on the wound as soon as it's out," he says, handing his t-shirt to Lucy. His hands hurt, but he thinks he can do this anyway, he's sure he can separate himself enough and so he leans over John, wrapping both hands around the shaft of the arrow.

There are three arrows just like this in his hut somewhere. The three that arrived in Henrich's chest.

He pulls, knowing it's going to hurt, but he pulls until he feels the arrow give, then come free of John's shoulder altogether. "Now," he says. "Put pressure on it now."

Though the circumstances of it aren't at all, it's still a relief when John speaks, especially after having just been told by the vines that he's dead. Holding on to the hope that he won't be is more difficult than Lucy wants to admit, even more so for the fact that none of them being doctors and having no medical equipment, but then, she has no intention of just giving up. They'll keep him alive. They'll get out of here, a little worse for wear but in one piece. All of it will be okay, because it has to be, because after five fucking years, she's not going to let this place win this soon or this easily.

Holding her breath, fingers curled tight around Mathias' shirt, she does as she's told, pressing down on John's shoulder where the arrow was, silently grateful that she's never been too squeamish.

Having a specific task helps, even if watching the blood pouring out of a person I care so much about makes me feel sick. I wrap my slip around his shoulder, under his arm, and tie it tight to hold the shirt in place. I remember learning about bandages. I can do this much, at least.

Once it's done, I allow myself a look at John's face. He's so pale that it scares me, but I don't say so. I just hold his hand and manage a trembling ghost of a smile. "See? We're all going to be just fine."

That there is blood dripping down my own arm, from where the arrow got me on its way to John, I hardly notice and that we're all at least a little bit burned by contact with the vines I ignore.

I have to ignore everything about the bloody vines, because I can still hear them laughing and it makes me feel like I might just start screaming and not be able to stop.

It hurts like bloody hell, both pulling the arrow and the pressing on of bandages afterwards. He grits his teeth and tries to stay focused on being awake, on staying awake, as much for Julie as for anyone. Because she's scared enough, without him slipping anywhere.

He squeezes her hand to make sure that she knows that he's still there.
"So," he says, trying to sound cheerful, though he doesn't think he succeeds. "What do we do now?"

Mathias throws the arrow down, then lays his hand on Lucy's shoulders, only vaguely aware of the fact that there's blood on it. Whether it's from John or his own burns that have begun to crack, he doesn't know, but he's getting it on Lucy, on her shirt and he pulls back suddenly, as if she's burning him, too. He doesn't want to see blood on her.

Turning away, he looks across the hill again. He can already feel the sun beating down on his shoulders and he licks his lips, wondering what they're going to do for water. They won't be stuck up here for more than a day, they can't be, but that's still a long time to go without anything to drink.

Across the hill, down in the mineshaft, the sound of the cellphone starts up.

"Don't listen to it," he says. "It's nothing. Now we keep watch until someone else comes and then we send them for help. The IPD won't let these men keep us here." That they're probably occupied elsewhere only now occurs to him.

In spite of what Mathias says about it, the sudden sound makes Lucy jump, a startled reaction she's already too uneasy to hold back. To her, it's as eerie as the rest of it, the sound coming from all the way down the mineshaft, with no discernible source. With the way it cuts through the relative quiet, ignoring it is easier said than done, and she finds herself looking in its direction anyway. At this rate, she thinks, they'll be lucky if they don't go crazy before someone else can get to them.

"Something like this has got to be pretty noticeable, right?" she asks, a halfhearted attempt at finding something reassuring about this whole mess. "Even with whatever else is going on, they can't take too long." Even so, she thinks, they ought to be ready in the event that it does, which would be a lot easier if she knew what to be ready for at all.

"What is that?" I ask. "Telephone" doesn't even enter my mind as a possibility, as it doesn't sound like any telephone I've ever heard before. I have no intention of investigating, however. I'm not letting go of John this time. Not for a second, when I'm so afraid he might slip away if I do. It's my fault he's hurt, but I won't let him down again.

Not that I have so much faith in anyone else. I can't help but feel a little bit like I'm back in my cell in le Chateau des Bourreaux, waiting for RAF bombs that never landed. I don't think anyone is going to save me this time, either, but I don't share that at all. Lying seems like a much better idea.

"Right. Help ought to be along soon." I squeeze John's hand and hope he believes me. I might be a good liar, but he's equally good at seeing right through me.

He does his best to focus on Julie's hand in his, he really does, but it's hard, with the pain and the blood loss. His vision swims and his head throbs and he can feel himself slipping into darkness.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I can't-."
And, just like that, he's gone.