No matter how many times it happened, and he had to confess to himself that it happened a lot more then he cared to admit. He would never get used to waking up in a strange place with no memory of how it was that he got there. Granted, usually he was just happy that he was waking up period.

Instinctively, he raised his hand to massage his forehead. The pounding in his skull was incredible … no, it was worse then incredible. It was unbelievable. He was talking Rocky Balboa at the end of Rocky IV, unbelievable.

The groan that then emitted from his mouth was even worse. It was cottony, and dry. Not a good sign. He then raised and rubbed his hand along his jaw, focusing much of his rubbing on the left-side. As he did so he took note of the length of his whiskers and the beard that had formed. By his estimate they were a little longer then the last time he had rubbed his chin, but not by much. Maybe a day … two at the most.

His hand flopped down to the side, over the edge of the cot he was laying on, and falling upon a fur coat.

At this tactile contact, Xander instantly froze. Startled by the possibilities that presently lay under his fingers.

A mere second later he felt the muscles under the fur-coat shift under his hand and a second after that he felt that same hand being assaulted … nuzzled and then licked affectionately. In the dark a small and grateful smile crept over his lips, his entire body relaxing. "Hey Girl. Have you been there the entire time?"

His question only earned him more palm licks.

Xander allowed Slayer to continue her display of doggy-loyalty as he permitted his eye to adjust to the dark. As best he could make out, it appeared that he was in a cave of some sort … which he wished he could say was different … but sadly, no. He was used to that kind of thing by now. The only thing different was that it appeared as though he had no restraints tying him down.

He sat up, and immediately regretted it. Not only did his head feel like it had been used as a football, but his right hand and ribs felt like they had been put through a crusher.

He allowed himself a moment to steady himself as Slayer started to stand up as well in order to join him, as she did so the adventurer noticed a bare shaved patch around her throat and a dozen crude stitches near her jugular. A wave of anger washed over him. You could do anything you wanted to him … but harm his dog and that was to him an act of war.

Xander then slipped of the bed and knelt down beside her, gently stroking her wound. Another dog would have shy away, not allowing the contact. But Slayer stood her ground, knowing fully that her Master was no threat to her or her injury. And as 'amateurish' as the stitching appeared to him to be, he could not deny that they had done their job well. He then carefully embraced her, holding the Ridgeback close to him. Her licks tickling his ear. He held her like this for as long as she would allow him too. After what he guessed may have been twenty seconds, she started to squirm, so he released her. Immediately upon doing so he noticed that his good eye had been weeping. Again, instinctively, he raised his injured hand to his eye and wiped it dry. "What the Hell happened to us, Girl?"

The Adventurer stood up and looked at the only entrance and exit to the room he had been placed it. "Answers. I need answers, girl." He spoke these words aloud and to no-one. His voice was husky, gruff and full of menace.

He then proceeded to creep out of the cavernous room, Slayer dutifully following behind him. With each careful footfall he forced his mind back to his last clear memory.

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The diesel engine percolated as the beat-up Toyota navigated through the gully steadily. The ditching on both sides successfully camouflaging them from their pursuers. Xander looked to his passengers, the boy: Kit, his wound had reopened, and though he wasn't gushing blood his white bandaging was slowly staining itself a dark red. But to the boy's credit, he wasn't making a big deal of it. His eyes were fixed forward and his voice helping to direct him through the darkness.

The Sun had fully set about twenty-minutes earlier and it was now as dark as the devil's heart. A smart man would have turned on the headlights to help illuminate the way, but then again a smart man wouldn't have a team of Slaver's trying to hunt him down. The Headlight's would be like an open invitation of the 'Here we are, come and get us' variety. The one-eye adult had even removed the fuse from the auto-electric panel that disabled his brake-lights from flaring up every time he depressed on the break pedal … a little trick he had learned from the old Ball-and-Chain. After all, what would be the point of travelling without your headlamps on if bright-red cherry lights lit up the darkness every time you slowed down?

They could hear the Trail Bikes crisscross the terrain above them. From the echo that was bouncing off the walls of the gully, Xander judged that they were maybe a hundred to a hundred and fifty yards away from them.

This was not good.

Trail Bikes were made for land like this. They were nimble and fast. The only reason they hadn't as yet caught up with them was probably because, he guessed, they each were carrying a passenger. He suspected one to do the riding and the other to do the spotting and the shotting.

Sitting next to him as the 4X4 crawled along was Heloise. Kit's sister and recent molestation-victim. Her body was motionless and if the one-eyed Adventurer wasn't already aware that she was a living and breathing person he could have quite easily have mistaken her for a statue or a mannequin. She was so still. Still and very, very terrified. And who could have blamed her? When Spike had tried to rape Buffy five years ago, Buffy also fell into a simular dissociative state. It took hours for her to find the strength and courage to leave the safety of the bathroom. And that was only with him there to guide, coax and reassure her. And Buff was 20. Heloise was far too young to be dealing with this type of evil.

"How much further, Kit?"

"Not far." The boy answered. "We're probably … maybe, I think five miles from Whispering Grove. And then another two-and-a-half miles to the Deep Wood's. But as soon as we get to the Grove we'll be safe. The forest is far too dense for them to navigate with bikes. And at night? They would be fool's to try."

Xander nodded to himself. "They wouldn't have to be fools, Kit. Just desperate. And desperate people do foolish things. They know that if we make it to freedom and report their activities to the local authority … like The Jungle Patrol, and they get caught then there is a hundred-percent chance that they'll be sent away for a good long while … maybe even for the rest of their Lives. With those kinds of stakes on the table, I think it's safe to say they'll risk the gamble."

It was funny, 24-hours earlier he had visited the famous 'Whispering Grove'. It was one of those must-see-landmarks of the area. When he first looked upon it it had weirded him out in a major way. And he wasn't someone who 'weirded-out' easily. The base of the trunks of all the tree's in the Whispering Grove resembled skulls. And what was even freakier than that was that when there was a steady breeze passing through the Grove, the sounds the wind would emit sounded a lot like the trees themselves were reciting 'Phan-Tom-Phan-Tom-Phan-Tom' over and over again. It was enough to give a person some major Wiggins.

The Whispering Grove was part of the infamous 'Phantom Trail' that also took a person past another local oddity … a mountain. On one side of the mountain it was completely normal looking, but on the other-side? It is said that some olden-time African Ruler, some even say Emperor, from about three-hundred years back had requisitioned a huge carving on the other-side of the mountain of a gigantic head. The funny thing is that the giant sculpture was not of the so called Emperor, but rather of a local myth. This Mountain later became known as Phantom Peak … there were, apparently, a lot of Phantom references in Bengalla.

He had, of course, heard of The Phantom ever since he started making Africa his new home address, but he never gave these stories much credence. As most of the folktales and camp-fire legends of 'The-Ghost-Who-Walks' were often spoken about by either drunks or people who had claimed to have had a one-on-one encounters with 'The-Man-Who-Cannot-Die' himself. These various stories were often so unbelievable that a reasonable minded person could never accept them as fact. But still, you get a half decent storyteller with a true gift-of-the-gab and it could be better than any Summer Blockbuster Movie that was damn sure.

What he had learned of this 'Phantom-Myth', was that the guy was over 400-years-old and an Immortal Do-Gooder who had a hard-on for doing away with Pirates and anyone who aligned themselves with evil. And Bengalla, according to legend, was his base of operations.

Well …. Where was this kick-ass Phantom now? Because he and the kids sure as hell desperately needed him.

During this silent reflection Kit, considered the adult's earlier words and had to force himself to agree with the adventurer's comments.

"You are correct, Xander. Desperate people must never be underestimated. Yet still, if they wish to catch us in the Grove then they would have to do so by foot. And then we will have a significant advantage."

"Love your optimism."

"No, not optimism. What I mean is that Heloise and I know the Grove and the Wood's like the back of our own hand. And unless you familiar with the hundred or so hidden and near invisible landmarks and have been there dozen of times before you could very easily get lost. And at night? Them? They'll lose their way within ten-yards of breaching the Groves perimeter. The advantage will be ours."

"Hidden and Near-Invisible Landmarks?"

The boy then turned to address the man who had save his and his sister's life earlier in the afternoon, ignoring his scoffing tone. "Yes. So basically, Xander, when we all enter you will need to stay close. And if you lose sight of either me or Heloise, just stop. Don't move. I'll back-track and find you. Please don't make my job any more harder by getting yourself all turned around, disorientated and go wandering off. Understand?"

Xander had to laugh. When he woke up this morning he didn't think his day would end with him taking orders from a pre-teenage boy. And if it wasn't for the confident and commanding tone the boy was using he doubted he would have been able to take him at all seriously.

"Hey, you've got no argument from me. This is your backyard, not mine."

"Good." Kit mumbled. "Because I have some bad news."

"Oh joy. Please tell."

The male youth just pointed ahead. The gully was coming to an end and there was a decent incline that needed to be negotiated. The darkness was such that Xander could barely make it out. If he was to have kept driving at the speed they had he would have driven into the side. "Damn, your eyes are good."

"You need good eyes in the Jungle."

Placing the Toyota in neutral, Xander turned to face the boy directly. "Okay, so according to you. We have maybe, like, 4-and-a-bit-miles to Whispering Grove now?"

"Roughly, yes." Kit answered. His face becoming very serious.

Xander nodded solemnly. His face also becoming very serious. "Kit. We won't make it. As soon as we drive out of here … there isn't any cover … they're already on our ass. We either leave this old-girl here and hoof-it … which I don't recommend cause like I said: No cover. And with your sister in the state that she's in … we'd be made by them in about 50-yards easy … 70-tops. And by the time we make it to a 100, they'll be all over us."

Kit looked to his sister, his teeth clenching together. "I won't let them take her. I won't! I'd die before I let that scum so much as lay another finger on her."

"Yeah … me too." Xander then got out of the Toyota and went to the rear door. He opened it and removed an axe, a fully stocked pump-action-shotgun and a revolver. He then got back into his seat as he placed his weapons in the crevice behind his seat.

"Okay, this is the plan. And you gotta follow it because I'm the adult and you're the kiddies here." Kit didn't say anything, and neither did Heloise. But then again he wasn't expecting her too. "To get us all out of here and to clear the top, I'm gonna have to rev the old girl. Not only that, but I'm gonna need to see where I'm going as I'm doing that. I'll have to put the high beams on."

Kit nodded his understanding, aware of just how vulnerable doing so would make them to the Horde of Slaver's seeking them out.

"That means we're going to be advertising our position away. And upon spotting us they'll be on us like flies on … well, what flies generally like being on. So what I'm going to do is charge the Grove."

"What do you mean 'Charge the Grove'?" The boy asked, confusion etched on his brow

"It means I'm going to drive like a freakin' maniac. At this girl's top speed I think I can get you guys there. But it's not gonna be a smooth drive. We're probably going to end up bouncing around in here like we're jumping on a trampoline. But I guarantee you this; this sweet-old-girl won't let us down. And as soon as we come to a stop, you three have got to get out and run. Got me? Don't look back. Just run. Run to your Deep Wood's and safety."

Kit looked at his saviour quizzically. "Three?"

"You, your sister and Slayer." Xander replied, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to where his dog was sitting quietly.

The boy was about to speak, but Xander pressed on, continuing with his talk in-order prevent Kit from interrupting. "I'll hold them back. I might even be able to get you an extra couple of minutes as they focus on me. So whatever you do, don't you dare waste those seconds."

"But … but they'll kill you."

Xander didn't see the point of bravado, though if he was to have been placed in this very same position five-years ago he probably would have made some corny joke about him being either too stupid or too pretty to die, or something else along those lines.

"Yeah, most likely. But I haven't died yet, and I've been in tougher spots than this in the past. So who knows, maybe I might pull this one out of the bag as well. But your priority is to your sister, Kit. Not me. Heloise is in a bad state and you can't tell me that she isn't. You'll need me to be as bigger distraction to those A-holes as you can get, because you'll probably have to end up carrying or dragging her out of here all on your own. You have to be the big-brother."

"We're twins. We share the same birthday."

Xander rolled his eye. "But you get the point. Look Kit, you've step-up. She, your Mom and Pop's would be damn proud of you. But you're still a kid. You've both got plenty of years left to you, so don't fight me on this."

In the dark of the night he could see the boy processing what he was being told and reaching the same conclusion. Once they cleared the gully any extra second he could hold off the Slaver's would be an extra second of grace for them both. The boy nodded and turned his head to look at the Ridgeback sitting behind them. "And the dog?"

"She'll make sure you get to where you need to go all in one-piece." Xander turned his body to angle it in the direction of his four-legged-companion, scratching her behind her left-ear. "On the back of her collar is a small metal plaque. There's a phone number on it. It's to a Private Number to a person in England. Let them know that you have Slayer and tell them that I had asked you to give them a call. She'll know why you're calling her what that will mean with regards to me. She might ask you a few uncomfortable questions. All I ask is that you tell her I went out in my sleep. She won't believe you … but she worries. And trust me; money for her is not an object. She'll make sure you, Heloise and your family will be well compensated for looking after our girl until she is able to visit you and claim Slayer from you."

Xander then stopped scratching his dog's ear and addressed the animal directly. "Listen you; you make sure these two make it home safe. Got me? None of this staying back to fight by my side nonsense. I'm giving you a job to do." Even though the dog did not bark or offer any sound, other than an indignant huff, Kit could not help but think that this animal understood exactly what was being asked of it. Very much how Devil always seemed to know exactly what was being asked of him by his father.

Xander then turned back around his grip tightening around the steering wheel. "Alright. Are we all sorted? We all know what we are going to do?"

Only silence welcomed the Carpenter's ears. His hand then finding a home upon the gear-stick as he began to gun the motor.

"WAIT!" The boy yelled out. Kit then removed a pendant that was hanging around his neck. He offered it to his Rescuer. "It's not much. But it's my Family's Good Mark. It … it singles you out as being a decent person and it forever places my family in your debt."

"Kit, I'm probably going to be riddled with lead in the next 10-minutes. A bit of 70's-Retro-Bling won't stop that from happening. Thanks for the gesture, but keep it."

"It's not a gesture, Xander." The boy answered, each word stressed. "My family don't just give the Good Mark out to anyone. And those rare people who do receive it have to be worthy. They must be brave and selfless. They have to prove themselves noble and willing to sacrifice themselves for our bloodline, all without any thought of either personal gain or wealth." Kit's voice faulted and cracked. "I've … I've never given anyone a Good Mark before. That honour … that decision … is made by my father. But he's not here. So it is left to me. You saved us. You willingly placed yourself in jeopardy for my sister and I. And you are willing to give up all that you are so that we may escape. I may not be my father, Xander. But I know a Good Man when I see one. So please, do not refuse this."

Xander was left speechless. The urgency and sincerity of the boy made his resolve crumble. Mutely, he reached out and took the medallion from the blonde boy's hands and then reverently placed it over his head. He had just finished positioning the symbol under his shirt when he looked up and saw another pair of tiny hands in front of him. This pair belonged to the girl, Heloise. And held within them was her own 'Good Mark' pendent.

Again, the one-eyed adventurer was left with nothing to say. This was the first and only acknowledgement from the girl that she was 'aware' of what was happening. After accepting her brother's gift, he felt unwilling to dismiss her own request. Obviously, this 'Good Mark', what ever it was, had powerful meaning to the pair. Xander bowed his head forward and allowed Heloise to loop her medallion over his head. In the dark of the cabin he could do very little in the way of admiring both pieces of metal. Their design was simple and crude, and oddly heavy for their size. If he didn't know any better he would suspect that they were both made of gold. But that would be absurd. Because that would mean each medallion would have an estimated value … given the price of gold … of approximately $10,000 a piece. Ergo they must not be the real McCoy, because what kind of parent would send their kid's out into the big-bad-Jungle with that kind of instant Pay-Day hanging around their kiddie's necks?

With both pendant's hanging from him, Xander, then focused his attention forward. Mentally preparing himself for the task he had placed upon himself. After several moments of self-urging he ordered his passengers to hold on tight. He then slipped the Toyota into gear, activated his high-beams and pressed his foot so hard on the accelerator that it nearly went right through the floor-boards.

As they cleared the crest of the gully and tires hit level land, Xander slipped into the next gear and angled his vehicle for a single direct line to the Grove that Kit had been gesturing too.

In his rear view mirrors he saw in the far distance up to 6 single headlamps of the Trail-bikes all alter their riding patterns and align themselves with his vehicle, with them now making pursuit. Under normal circumstances he would probably have said something of the four-letter-word-variety. But instead he just kept his foot on the accelerator and whispered to himself.

"Ah well, it was a nice life while I had it. And it's not like I could say it was ever boring."

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Happy Holiday's and a Wonderful 2015 to everybody .

I hope you all enjoyed this 'Xander-Intermission'. Remember, Review if you like … Review if you don't like. I always love to read your thoughts and hear your opinions.

Back to Buffy and Giles in the next chapter as Buffy starts … or at least TRY'S … to come to terms with everything she has recently learned about herself, the Slayer Line and Xander's relationship to her.

Giles has some major explaining to do and I hope to address, what I think are a hundred of loose-ends of the BtVS Series that was, in my honest opinion, never fully explored or answered.