Disclaimer: I do not own Boy Meets World.

A/N: This chapter is a preview of the next story I'll be posting. I've learned from past mistakes and have decided I won't officially start posting this story until it is fully written—that way all I'll have to worry about from week to week will be final revisions and polishing, so the updates should be more regular—but I did want to post a preview chapter as a little teaser trailer, I guess.

This story, titled "The Island" for now, will actually be the first of a six part series. I should probably put the warning out there that this series will become increasingly more AU as it goes along. I will do my best to keep every character in character so that any differences in how the characters change and grow throughout this series as opposed to the TV show would still be believable for them when taking into consideration their different experiences. This series will also be a little unorthodox for Boy Meets World fanfiction, but I wanted to give it a try.

There will be an OC heavily featured in this story. I know . . . this is always a major risk for any fanfiction story. The idea, though, is for this character to be an additional cast member to the show rather than the new titular character, as all those Girl Meets World articles keep dubbing Cory from the original Boy Meets World series. This is a character that I've been developing for years, and I feel like I need to write her story in some form. I've come up with multiple variations of her storyline and background through multiple fandoms and even some original fiction ideas. No matter how hard I've tried to make her story original, though, it's still way too derivative of a show I watched growing up for me to be okay with telling her story in fully original fiction, so I think fanfiction is the best way to go. I chose one of the versions of her story I came up with for Boy Meets World because it's not a series that a character like this would typically be placed. This will make it a bit of a challenge, and I'm a firm believer that the only way writers can grow and improve is if they challenge themselves. Here's hoping it works out.

Title: "The Island" (working title - I'll make sure to include this title in the summary if I come up with a better one.)

Genre: Adventure / Family

Rating: T

Boy Meets World Timeline: After season 4, assuming an alternate ending to the "Cult Fiction" episode.

Summary: After winning the lottery, the Matthews family and Company take a trip to a vacation resort that ends in disaster—stranded on a seemingly deserted island with a girl full of secrets.

Chapter 1

Shawn clutched the armrests of his chair. He dimly noticed himself grabbing John's hand beside him. The airplane shook around them, the turbulence growing more and more violent as the seconds drew on. An oxygen mask hung in front of him. He ignored it. John had tried to get him to put it on, but Shawn noticed John was ignoring his, too. Looking around, it seemed Cory was the only one who even bothered. What was the point? It was almost cruel to be taunting them with something that was supposed to help but would really accomplish so little. They'd all be crashing in the ocean any time now. He shut his eyes, waiting.

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Three Weeks Earlier

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"Hey, Cor," Shawn said as he walked into the Matthews' house. He didn't even bother knocking anymore. Mrs. Matthews had more or less told him he was family, so the standard courtesy rules didn't really apply anymore. For years, his way of going in and out of the house was through Cory's window with or without permission, so he just shrugged and started using the door instead.

"Hey, Shawn," Cory greeted. He was seated at the kitchen table looking through an old yearbook.

Shawn headed straight over for the fridge and grabbed a soda before making himself comfortable on the counter behind his friend. "What's made you all nostalgic?"

"Nostalgic?" Cory said. "That's a big boy word."

"I'm living with an English teacher. It was bound to rub off on me sooner or later."

"If you were living with Feeny, I could see that, but Turner is more on our level."

"He promised he'd let me learn how to drive his bike if and when I finished all the summer reading. I don't think he thought I would actually do it." Shawn smirked. He remembered that conversation. John promptly quizzed him on everything he read before he would believe him, then commented on how Shawn never finished any homework that fast. Shawn pointed out he'd never had the incentive before. He didn't think he had ever seen John as scared as he was when he started teaching Shawn the controls on the bike and let him take it for a spin around a parking lot. Really, what did the man expect? The man owned a Harley and had a rebellious teen living with him. Did he really think the two wouldn't collide someday?

It had been several weeks since he had gone back to living with John after everything at the Center. He remembered how much he had fought Turner's attempts at finding a bigger place for the two of them to live before his dad finally came back in town and he moved back in with him. He had told Cory back then that he was tired of moving around and he wanted his next move to be permanent—to be with his dad. What he hadn't realized then was that the word "permanent" never applied to Chet Hunter and never would. It wasn't long after Verna came back that his parents started fighting again. She stuck around for several months before deciding she was leaving for good this time. Nothing could change her mind—not Shawn, not the well-intentioned Cory, and sure as hell not her good-for-nothing soon-to-be ex-husband. Chet tried to stick around for Shawn's sake, but not hard enough. He lasted maybe a week before he took off as well. He had been restless the entire time he stayed stationary there. Shawn pretended not to notice, but it was like Chet was a caged bird there. It wasn't that great of a shock when he left.

He didn't tell anyone until he left the Center. It was then John signed the papers Chet had mailed him previously, making the guardianship official and permanent. Shawn didn't fight it this time. Between his dad abandoning him and John coming to the Center with Mr. Matthews to have a serious talk with Mr. Mac—a talk that ended with both John and Mr. Matthews outright threatening the man, only backing off at the mention of a lawsuit—he realized that accepting John's offer was the smart move. They started looking for a bigger place once school let out.

Shawn blinked out of his thoughts and refocused on his friend, or more specifically at the year-old yearbook his fried was studying. "You didn't answer my question," he pointed out. "What's with the yearbook?"

Cory looked up from the book and met his gaze. He had a glazed look, like he had been lost in thought. The fact he kept staring at the same page backed this theory up. He didn't have to know his friend even half as well as he did to tell something was bothering him.

"You know, it's been over a year since Kim Bailey died," Cory said.

"We didn't even really know her."

"I know. It's just . . . she was in our homeroom since 7th grade and just like that, some psychopath just up and decides to kidnap and kill her just because of some stupid Celtic-like necklace she had."

Shawn knew Cory. He cared a lot—sometimes almost too much—but this wouldn't come out of nowhere . . . not after a year. "What brought this on?"

"There was a news special on last night. I caught the end of it before the new Family Matters started. I think what really made it sad was I don't think anyone knew her that well. I was talking to Topanga. She said the girl didn't have any friends."

Shawn vaguely remembered the girl. She was a blond hair, blue eyed beauty who carried herself with this confidence that most girls in their grade had yet to master. It didn't take him long to ask her out, but she turned him down with barely a glance. She was pretty standoffish, from what he recalled. The school had offered counseling services after the cops found her body, but no one seemed to take advantage of the offer. They were all more shocked that something like that happened to someone in their school than they were upset to lose that girl in particular. It didn't surprise Shawn that it bothered Cory, who always placed so much importance on what others thought of him. It was pretty sad, when he thought about it.

"They never caught the person responsible," Cory continued. "The special gave a tally count of how many murders they linked to this serial killer. I can't remember the exact number, but it was a lot."

Shawn stood, closed the book in front of his friend, and pulled it away. "Stop depressing yourself. It's summer. Enjoy it." The two friends looked at one another when they heard excited yelling coming from the next room over. "What's that about?"

"Beats me," Cory said.

They glanced at one another again before rushing to see for themselves.

Mr. Matthews was alternating between hugging his wife and jumping up and down, often bringing her along with him. She seemed just as excited as he was.

"We won. We won," Mr. Matthews said when he saw them standing there.

"Won what?" Cory asked.

"The lottery! We won the jackpot!"

"His employees bought him a ticket for boss's day," Mrs. Matthews explained. The wilderness store had been doing so well within the past few months, they had decided to hire extra help so they could run it for longer hours and he wouldn't have to be there all the time.

"Cool," Cory said. "How much did you win?"

"86 million," Mr. Matthews said.

"Eighty-six . . ." Cory repeated, jumping into the celebration with his parents. "We're rich. We're rich, Shawny, we're rich!"

Shawn stared at him open-mouthed for a minute before the words processed. "We're rich." He opened his arms and went over to join the party. It didn't matter right now that it didn't seem real. If it was a dream, he would be happy for the dream version of his friend. If it were real, here's to hoping they didn't end up in bad shape like so many others who won big. Right now, it was just a happy time with his friend.

The next several days went by in a blur. The Matthews claimed the money. There was only one other winning ticket, so they made it big time with this. Shawn was happy for them. Really, he was, but he just couldn't shake this feeling that something would go wrong. Nothing good in his life ever seemed to last—except for his friendship with Cory and hopefully the guardianship thing with John. True, he wasn't the one who won, but his best friend's family did. Nothing bad ever happened to Cory, though, so everything would be alright. It would have to be.

After claiming the money, Mr. Matthews gave all of his employees nice bonus checks and started planning a nice vacation with his family. Cory insisted both Shawn and Topanga come along, since Shawn was practically his brother and Topanga was practically his wife. His parents didn't take to the wife comment too well. They went into a spiel about how he and Topanga were way too young to be thinking about marriage or anything that went along with it. Shawn chimed in that the two had been married since they were two, so what difference did it make? Cory appeased them all by pointing out that it was just an expression. They were going into their junior year. They hadn't even started talking about tying the knot yet, so everyone could just relax. That crisis averted, the Matthews adopted the "why not" attitude. They certainly had enough money to go around. They could afford to bring extra people along. It was Shawn's idea to drag John into the mix. Mr. and Mrs. Matthews were happy to extend the invite. They liked Jonathan. It would be nice to have another adult they could spend time with. Shawn suspected the real reason they went for it was so they would have extra help with him and the rest of the kids, being outnumbered and all. Whatever the reason, he and John were getting to go on vacation to some exotic island resort somewhere—the Dominion . . . Domino . . . Dorito . . . something Republic. He wasn't complaining.

Before he knew it, the plane landed and he and the gang arrived in paradise. The resort was beautiful. There were palm trees everywhere, pools, restaurants, and all . . . and the best part, their hotel was right on the beach. The sand was so light, it barely even looked brown. The water was a clear-crystal blue. The sun was hot. A gentle breeze blew. It was amazing.

They weren't even there ten minutes before Cory, Shawn, and Topanga were all in their beachwear and soaking up the sun on the sand.

"This is the life, my Shawn," Cory said.

"Yeah, Cor. Sure is," Shawn said as he enjoyed to front row seat to real-life Baywatch babes parading by. Sunglasses were one of the best inventions known to man. He could gawk all he wanted and claim no one had any proof he was looking at them.

"It's so beautiful here," Topanga said. "Cory, if we ever get married, I want to live here or somewhere like here."

"You got it, babe. We'll buy a house on the beach. It'll be great."

"What about me?" Shawn asked.

"You'll get the guest house."

"I can live with that."

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Cory stared down at the wad of cash his dad had given him, Shawn, and Topanga. It was their allowance . . . and boy was it an allowance. He could get used to this.

"So, my favorite two people in the world, what do you want to do? The sky is the limit here people. We can do whatever we want," Cory said.

"Cory," Topanga said, "don't you think you should be responsible with this? I mean, I know it's a lot of money, but it's not unlimited. Haven't you heard all those stories about the people who win big? Many of them end up bankrupt."

"Oh, stop being a buzz kill. It's my parents who have to be responsible. I'm just a kid. They expect me to throw it all away. If I don't, I'll be disappointing some universal status quo."

"Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh. What uh-oh? What could possibly go wrong with this?"

"Oh, here we go," Shawn said.

"Ooh, look! A coconut stand!"

"Remind me why I love him . . . ." Topanga said.

Cory strolled right over to the coconut stand, with his girlfriend and best friend trailing along. "How much are the coconuts?" he asked the stand owner.

"160 pesos."

"160 pesos. That's insane."

"Cory, honey, one American dollar equals 41.50 pesos."

"Oh, well okay then." Cory leafed through the money in his hand and alternated looking between that and the stand. "I'll buy all of them, please. And might as well throw in the stand too."

"Perdone, señor?"

Topanga turned on Cory and folded her arms. "What are you going to do with a coconut stand?"

"Well, I'm going to stand by it and eat the coconuts. Duh."

"Why?" Shawn asked.

"Because I can." He ignored the blatant eye rolls from both Topanga and Shawn.

Topanga pulled the money out of Cory's hands and started counting through it. "Tres, por favor," she said, handing the correct amount over.

The still confused shopkeeper took the money and handed over the three requested coconuts.

"Three? I believe I asked for all of them."

"Cory, let's go." Topanga grabbed his arm and started pulling him away.

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John looked up when he heard the hotel door slam. Shawn came in, clearly agitated about something. The kid ran his hand through his hair, a sign he'd learned meant he was either trying to get a girl's attention or he was upset about something. Considering there weren't any girls around, that only left option number two.

"Shawn, you okay?" he asked.

Shawn glanced at him briefly before going to sit down on one of the chairs by the balcony. John followed along behind him.

"It's Cory. It's like ever since his dad won the stupid lottery he's gone all rich snob on everyone." Shawn looked out the window. "I don't want to lose my best friend, John, but I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"I'm sure it's not that bad."

"He just gave a waiter an 830 peso tip after ordering five appetizers, the three most expensive meals on the menu, and every dessert they offered, just because he could. And did I mention he bribed them before we sat down to allow us to skip the wait and get seated at their best table immediately, regardless of the fact other people had been waiting a half hour or more before we even showed up?" Shawn gave a humorless laugh. "He's turning into one of those people I always hated when going out—the ones who won't even look at you, because they think you're no better than the scum they have their servants scrape off the bottom of their shoes."

"Hunter," John started, "Matthews has been your best bud for how many years now? He's not going to look down on you."

"Maybe not yet. But it's not just that. He's not the Cory I grew up with, who painted Feeny's fence to earn some money so he could afford a super soaker and join in with our water wars, only to return it and trade it in for two smaller ones so his dad could have one after his dad fixed the mess of a job Cory had done."

"Have you talked to him about any of this?"

"No." Shawn started fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "I don't think there's any reasoning with him. I mean the guy tried to buy a coconut stand."

What? John shook his head. He didn't think he even wanted to know. "Well, the way I see it, you can give up without even trying and throw away a lifelong friendship over this or you can talk to him and maybe help him find who he is again." John felt a small sense of victory when Shawn looked up at him. "So, what's it gonna be."

Shawn looked back out the glass doors. "He's never given up on me. I think I owe him a couple hundred second chances."

John caught his gaze again. "Then I'm sure you'll figure out some way to get through to him."

Shawn nodded. "Yeah, I guess I will."

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"Hey, Cor. Can I talk to you a minute?" Shawn hesitantly walked towards his friend. Cory was sitting out on the balcony of his and Eric's shared hotel room.

"Yeah. Sure. What's up?"

Shawn sat down in the chair next to Cory. "I'm not sure if there's a good way to say this or not, so I'm just gonna say it."

"Okay," Cory said. "Should I be worried?"

"You've been a jerk lately."

"What?"Cory stood up and looked down at him. "What did I do? Please, tell me, because I don't have even the slightest—"

"Cory, just think about how you've been acting. You've been throwing that money around like it's nothing."

"It's not like I've been hoarding it. I've been spending it on you and Topanga, too, or have you forgotten?"

"I don't want your stupid money."

Cory looked thoroughly confused for a minute. "Why?"

"Cory, I grew up in a trailer park. We had hardly anything. My parents had to work hard for every penny we had until dad lost his job. I hated it when we were on welfare. I don't want any handouts. You just got lucky. That money just fell into your lap and you're acting like it's yours by right."

"You're jealous."

Shawn stood up to face him at that. "No, I'm not. I just think you've been taking all of this too far."

"No, you're jealous I have money and you don't. You've always been jealous of my family and my house and everything, and now that we're rich, you just can't take it anymore."

"I have John. Things are great. All of that is in the past."

"Then what's all this about, huh?"

"It's about you, Cory, and the snob who replaced my best friend."

"So I'm a snob, now, am I?"

"Yeah. You are."

Shawn watched Cory struggle with that for a bit. "Then if I'm such a snob, get out of here. Snobs don't hang around trailer trash like you."

Shawn just stood there glaring at his friend before finally brushing past him. He didn't look back.

##

Cory leaned his arms on the balcony railing, watching the waves crash against the shore. Who did Shawn think he was? Shawn was the one with the problem, not him. Wasn't he?

He wasn't sure how long he stood there before Topanga joined him. Eric must have let her in. He glanced over at her before returning his gaze to the ocean. "Do you think I'm becoming a snob?"

"Yes." There wasn't even any hesitation. It was just a bluntly honest fact. "Cory, you know I love you. Nothing can change that, but you have gone a bit overboard with all of this."

Cory nodded. "You know, it's strange. When dad first won all that money, I thought that was the best thing that ever happened to us. Now I'm not so sure." He turned to face Topanga. "I think I may have really screwed things up with Shawn."

"No, you didn't," Topanga said. "You owe him an apology, but he knows you weren't really being you. He asked me to talk to you . . . said he thought I might have a better chance at getting through to you than he did."

"Do you know where he is?"

"I think he went for a walk to clear his head."

"Thanks, Topanga." He left to go in search of his friend. He couldn't rely on his knowledge of Shawn's usual hiding spots here, but he knew he could find him anyways. If all else failed, he could wait for him in his hotel room.

He eventually found him after wandering aimlessly on the beach. Shawn was sitting in the sand and writing in a notebook. Probably just the result of another incentive thing from Mr. Turner. He sat down next to him. "What are you writing?"

"Just stuff."

"Cool."

They sat there awkwardly while Cory tried to figure out how to say what he came here to say. "I'm sorry, Shawn. I shouldn't have called you trailer trash. That's not who you are at all. And you were right. I am the world's biggest snob."

"I don't know that I'd call you the world's biggest snob, you'd have a long way to go to get there—more like the world's quirkiest snob." The corner of Shawn's lips quirked up.

"Quirky, huh?"

"Or Corky."

"Huh. So are we cool?"

"Yeah. We're cool."

The two friends sat there for a while, talking about any random topic that popped to mind.

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The rest of their vacation week passed without much incident. They just enjoyed it for the amazing trip that it was. Cory had returned to being Cory—a little richer, a little wiser, but Cory, nonetheless. Aside from the private plane Mr. Matthews paid for so they would have a nice trip back to Philly, the rest of the family seemed to be staying true to themselves. Shawn was reluctant to leave when the time came. This little pocket of paradise was the first trip he had ever taken that hadn't involved a road trip in his old trailer. All the same, he guessed it would be nice to get back home.

They arrived at the airport and unloaded all of their suitcases from the shuttle bus. Shawn noticed a couple and who he assumed to be their daughter exiting the shuttle as well. The man kept checking his watch and muttering about how there was no way they would make their plane in time. The woman tried to placate her husband, but she, too, looked frazzled. Their daughter just looked annoyed.

He found himself staring at the girl. Her long black hair was pulled up by one of those hair clamp things. She wore a necklace that looked strangely familiar to him, but he could quite place where he had seen it before. It had some kind of cross symbol in the middle of it, surrounded by wispy spiral like shapes. His blue eyes met her brown ones for a brief moment when she caught him staring. He looked away and went back to looking for his duffle bag.

"According to this, our plane should be close," Mr. Matthews said. He was looking at some official looking papers.

"Do we need to go into the terminal to check in?" Mrs. Matthews asked.

"No, I don't think so. Since it's a private plane, I think we just go there directly and pay the pilot."

"Excuse me, sir, I couldn't help overhearing. Did you say you have a private plane?" Shawn looked over to see the man he had noticed before. He had slightly graying black hair and wore wire-rimmed glasses. The man checked his watch again.

"Gary," the other brunette woman admonished. She turned towards them. "I'm sorry. You'll have to excuse my husband."

"It's okay," Mr. Matthews said. "We do have a private plane. We're heading back to Philadelphia in about a half hour or so."

"Oh, thank God," Gary said. "We're late for our plane back. The flights out of here are booked solid for the next few days. If we don't leave now, we'll be stuck another week. We have to get back home."

"That's our problem, honey. Not theirs. We'll manage," the woman said.

"But what about Daniela?" Gary put his arm around his daughter. For a second, it almost looked like she wanted to shove it off before her expression went blank. "We need to get her back. We don't have health insurance coverage here. We never should have come here in the first place."

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Matthews asked, concerned.

Daniela closed her eyes a moment and swallowed. "It's fine. They're just overreacting. I'm sorry my parents have to be such drama queens."

Gary seemed to tighten his grip on her shoulder. "No, honey, it's not fine. We need to get you back to the hospital. If you miss your scheduled treatment, your condition could worsen. You don't want that, do you?" Daniela frowned. Gary turned back to Mr. Matthews. "Please, sir, if you have any room to spare . . . . I'll pay you whatever you want. I just . . . ." He seemed to choke up. Shawn could swear he saw Daniela roll her eyes. "We need to get her back home."

Everyone just seemed to stare at one another for a while. Mr. and Mrs. Matthews glanced at one another.

"Gary, Daniela, come on," the woman said. "We've wasted enough of their time." The trio started to walk away.

"Alan," Mrs. Matthews prompted.

"Wait," Mr. Matthews said. "We've got room. It's a direct flight, so it should get you back faster." Gary started to pull out his wallet. "Don't worry about it."

"Thank you," Gary said, reaching out to shake Mr. and Mrs. Matthews's hands. "Thank you. I'm Gary Wilson, by the way, and this is my wife, Ellie, and my daughter, Daniela."

"It's Dani," the teen corrected, her smile forced.

They gave introductions all around before looking for their plane. Shawn's jaw almost dropped when they found it. For a private plane, it was pretty big. He'd assume Mr. Matthews rented out a full 747 or something, if he didn't know any better. They boarded the plane and took off in no time.

The inside of the plane, while smaller than it would seem from the outside, was more spacious than the one they came in on. The front of the passenger area looked like an average plane, with slightly less cramped seats than normal. Behind those seats, however, was an area set up more for entertaining. There were plush seats on both sides, facing towards the center. There was a mini-fridge filled with soda and stuff. There was a big screen TV mounted on the wall at the back of the plane. Everyone moved back to this area as soon as the pilot turned off the seat belt sign.

The Wilson family sat awkwardly together, with Mr. and Mrs. Wilson on either side of Dani. Mr. Wilson kept checking his watch and looking out a window behind him. His right hand gripped his carry-on duffel bag. Dani's expression was unreadable, but her posture was stiff, like she was uncomfortable—probably because of whatever medical condition she had, Shawn figured. Mrs. Wilson clutched onto her purse like she wouldn't give it up for anything. Mr. Matthews had tried being gracious and offering to put the duffel bag and purse in the overhead compartments, but they both refused the offer.

The attachment Mrs. Wilson had to her purse was almost unnatural. Sure, he knew some girls could be really possessive about their purses, but this lady was to the point of being insane. She had dropped it on the way into the plane. He bent down to pick it up and give it back to her, but she had snatched it back up before he even had a chance to grab it. He caught a glimpse of something black and shiny—probably a compact or something.

"So, Dani, is it?" Morgan started. "What do you have?"

Before Dani could answer, Mr. Wilson said "Narcolepsy" and Mrs. Wilson said "Epilepsy" at the same time.

"Apparently something that ends with '-epsy,'" Dani said dryly.

Mrs. Wilson gave a forced smile in response. "That's our girl. Despite everything, she's still got a sense of humor."

Mr. Wilson stared at his watch like it was his lifeline or something before glancing back out the window again. "I hate flying," he said when he caught Shawn staring. "It always makes me nervous being this high in the air."

"I used to be the same way," Topanga said. "It's really not that bad. It's actually one of the safest forms of travel."

"Except there's less of a chance of survival if you crash." He glanced down at his watch again before almost immediately covering his mouth. "I think I'm gonna be sick. If you'll excuse me . . . ." He ran back towards the front of the plane to the only bathroom they had, still clutching his duffel bag.

"He's really attached to that thing, isn't he?" Shawn commented to no one in particular.

Mrs. Wilson stared down the direction her husband went. She didn't move for a minute until she seemed to see something she was looking for. She reached into her purse. Dani's posture seemed to become even stiffer than it was before, if that were even possible. Mrs. Wilson stood and pulled out that black shiny thing.

Shawn's eyes widened when he saw what it was. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Cory pull Topanga closer to him and Mr. Matthews grab hold of Mrs. Matthews's hand and move to shield Morgan.

"Hand over the money. All of it," Mrs. Wilson said, pointing the gun unwaveringly at them. The mother and wife vanished, replaced by a steely-eyed criminal.

No one moved. It didn't seem real. It couldn't be real. Stuff like this only happened to other people and in movies and stuff.

"I said hand it over. Now."

Mr. Matthews started fumbling for his wallet. Topanga hid her face in Cory's shoulder. Shawn sought out John. Their eyes met from across the couch.

"Dani, do your thing," Mrs. Wilson said.

As if in slow motion, Dani stood, looking around at all of them. Rather than going towards them, however, she moved to stand between Mrs. Wilson and them.

"What do you think you're doing? We went over this. They won't be around to tell anyone anything, but we will."

"No," Dani said. "You and Gary can go screw yourselves, for all I care. I'm not doing it."

The two stared each other down for what seemed like an eternity. Mrs. Wilson took the safety off of the gun and put her finger back on the trigger. "Stand aside, freak. And don't even think about trying anything. I'll pull this trigger, and you know it."

"Then go ahead and shoot. I'm not budging."

This girl was either insane or she had some kind of death wish. Those were the only two things that made any sense to Shawn in that moment.

Mr. Matthews moved forward, wallet in hand. He put his free hand on Dani's shoulder and gently nudged her aside, keeping his eyes on Mrs. Wilson. "Here. This is all I have. Just please leave my family alone. It's all yours."

Everyone who had any money stepped forward and handed it over.

Mrs. Wilson shoved all of it into her purse before raising her gun back up again. "Get in your seats up front, put your hands where I can see them, and don't move."

They all silently obeyed. Shawn felt a small measure of relief when John joined him. He subconsciously grabbed for his hand.

There was a sudden bout of turbulence. Both John and Shawn reached for their seat belts at the same time. A short while later, the door to the cockpit opened and Mr. Wilson came out, holding another gun with a longer barrel that didn't quite match the rest of the gun.

Mr. and Mrs. Wilson quietly talked with one another, on occasion gesturing to them and to Dani. They pulled out parachutes. Mr. Wilson pulled out a cell phone. Didn't those mess with the airplane equipment or something? There was another big turbulence dip. Shawn couldn't catch much of the one-sided conversation over the white-noise from the flight. What little he could catch amounted to something about a boat that was supposed to meet them.

The turbulence was getting stronger. The air masks dropped down from above. Shawn ignored John's attempts to get him to put it on.

The couple strapped on their parachutes and grabbed hold of a third, presumably meant for Dani. They opened a door on the plane, threw the third parachute out, then jumped out themselves.

Dani stumbled over to the open door and struggled to get it closed. Mr. Matthews, being the closest to her, helped her do so. He heard him yelling at Dani to sit down and buckle up before she got hurt. She ignored him and stumbled over to the cockpit door. She slammed into the side wall and clung onto it to help her keep her balance before disappearing through the door.

He looked out the window next to him. It looked like they were losing altitude fast. The plane jerked violently to the side and further downward before seeming to level out some.

He clutched the armrests of his chair. The turbulence kept growing more and more violent as the seconds drew on. He continued to ignore the oxygen mask that hung in front of him. Looking around, it seemed Cory was the only one who even bothered. What was the point? It was almost cruel to be taunting them with something that was supposed to help but would really accomplish so little. He glanced out the window again. The ocean seemed to be getting closer still. They'd all be crashing in the ocean any time now. He shut his eyes, waiting.

There was one final violent bump, then all went still.

A/N: Please let me know what you think. I haven't gotten much chance to revise and polish this yet, so constructive criticism is more than welcome. I should hopefully be able to start posting this story by the end of the summer or early fall, if all goes well.

Also, all of the information about Dominican Republic currency versus USA currency came from a currency rate calculator. I apologize if any of this is inaccurate. I've never been there, so I've just had to rely on what I found online.