Running through the dark, woodwork, Ivor kept calling out, hoping for some aid. He was confident Margaret wouldn’t keel over while he was gone, but the sooner she got help, the better.

As he ran, getting a few odd looks here and there, the first to pay him any attention was one man, who had been sitting and chatting with some companions. He yelled, “Pipe down already, sheesh.” As he looked over the taller person, he noted, “Hey, what’s up with that prisoner outfit?”

Ivor grunted, “What do you think?”

The man grumbled, “As long as the Marines don’t catch on to the fact that this is down here. How the hell did you find it, anyway? You look new.”

Ivor shrugged, “Not important.” Ignoring him, he continued to run, still on the search for assistance.

After what he felt like was too long, he turned back, returning to the little boat. His eyes widened when he saw what appeared to be a red haired woman standing above Margaret, who was on the ground. “Hey!” he cried out as he approached, reaching the two, his height an imposing two feet above the woman. However, on a closer look, it seemed like she had no ill intent. Calming down a bit, Ivor asked, “How’d she get here? She was in the boat where I left her...and who are you?”