Bradford is still trying to figure out what new job he can trust me with, so even though I'm healthy again, I have lots of free time. Although I'm itching to get back out on the basketball court, the one time I tried to join a game, I not only ended up being the last one picked, but I also hardly got a chance to handle the ball. Apparently the guys my age still haven't accepted me here, so lately I've been spending a lot of hours with Baker in the community room polishing my chess skills. And by polishing, I mean learning how to lose in new ways.

"Checkmate," he says, moving his rook to the edge of the board. Leaning back in his chair, he looks pleased with himself and reminds me of a chocolate Buddha with the buttons on his shirt straining against his belly.

"Dammit." I dart my eyes amongst my remaining pieces trying to disprove him, but it's clear that he's won. "Not again."

He laughs, gets up from his chair and begins to put on his jacket. "I told you to take your time and think about your moves beforehand. Chess is all about strategy. You're focusing too much on the endgame, but you're losing even before you have a chance to get there."

I begin to put away the pieces. "I'm not really a planner. I just take things as they come."

"You place too much faith in luck, when you should really believe in your own abilities. Trust your instincts, but be smart about it." He pats me on the shoulder as he leaves.

I roll the rook between my fingers while thinking about Baker's words. I turn to ask about a rematch, but the door is already shutting behind him. However, before it comes to a complete close, it slams back open again and Jed charges straight at me.

"I heard you've been hanging out with my girl," he says, grabbing my shirt with both hands and pushes me further into the chair. "I don't know what you're playing at, but I don't like it."

I'm finding the guy's intensity to be not only misguided, but also hilarious. I'm really tempted to laugh at him, but that reaction's gotten me in trouble much too often lately and I don't particularly want my ass kicked at the moment. So, in spite of my inclination, I try to remain as expressionless as I can. That's when I see that Jed didn't come alone; he was followed by Lola's brother, Tony.

Sweet. He brought back-up.

"You got me?" Jed snarls in my face and I realize I must have missed something.

I strain my brows - acting like I'm deep in thought - to stall for time to decide whether it's best to guess at the answer he's looking for or whether to admit I wasn't paying attention. That's when Nelly steps out from behind Tony.

"Let him go, Jed. I need Will to come with me," she demands with a sly smile playing on her lips.

He huffs, but Jed lets go before taking a step backward. I slowly stand, smile, and shrug my shoulders theatrically. Handing him the rook, I wink. "Checkmate."

Following Nelly out the door, I don't wait for Jed's reaction, but I'm fairly certain that I hear a small clink as the wooden chess piece hits the door behind me.

"Thanks for the save, but what's going on?"

Hurrying down the hallway, she doesn't turn around, but instead heads straight toward the stairs. "We're going out."

I instinctively check my watch. "But it's still daytime."

"I know, but where do you think everyone else is? It'll be okay. Don't you trust me?"

"No," I say with a smile. I've learned to accept that my curiosity always gets the better of me and I'm already excited about the excursion.

After a couple of turns, Nelly takes me toward a back exit that I haven't seen before. She stops to wrap a bright scarf over her hair; meanwhile, I take a deep breath and push the door open.

Although it's light out, there's a strange grayness to the environment. The thick cover of clouds above us completely blocks out the sun, which I'm guessing is what makes it possible for us to venture outside. As I look around, I can see others nearby also taking advantage of the favorable weather, but we don't join them. Instead, Nelly leads us to a motorcycle parked around the corner.

"Do you want to drive?" she asks, dangling a key in front of me.

"Naw, you can take this one." I try to sound indifferent, although we both know that we wouldn't get two yards if it was up to me.

She laughs and hops on the bike before turning the ignition. Like with the truck earlier, there's notelltale revving of an internal combustion engine. As most things around here,this must also be electric with a solar powered battery. I shouldn't be surprised.There's no way any type of fossil fuel would have maintained its chemicalintegrity for almost three decades.

I swing my leg over the seat behind her and grab on just as she shifts accelerates. We ride over a barren landscape, heading south along the coastline. The wind whips at my face and I relish every moment of the new experience. I don't even mind when we're soon enveloped by a cold mist. When it eventually turns into a light rain, I begin to wonder about our destination and how much further it could be. A few miles later, however, a tall, white structure comes into view.

Pretty soon, I'm positive it's the lighthouse where the Skipper is waiting. I chose the unmistakable landmark exactly for the purpose of easily recognizing it again. My body therefore unwittingly tenses as the fear of being found out crosses my mind.

By the time Nelly stops the bike at the base of the lighthouse, the rain has intensified and the wind is now making it seem like it's falling horizontally. I run ahead to open the door, making sure to keep the plastic hose behind it and concealed from Nelly. Luckily, she takes the lead and we climb the spiral staircase, careful not to slip on the iron rungs from the water dripping from our clothes. As we reach the top of the tower, she walks to the side facing the ocean and presses her hands against the glass. Raindrops continue to steadily beat against the window with a melodic pitter patter and they flow down in squiggly little paths, distorting the view.

"You don't know how many times I've done this over the years. Coming here to watch the horizon, waiting for something - someone - to surface and take me away from here," she says, drawing an abstract pattern in the condensation with her finger.

I step behind her, close enough to where our bodies are slightly touching.

"Then you must have been really disappointed when I came back without a ferry," I whisper over her shoulder.

She stops her doodling, but doesn't turn around. "No. You're wrong. I wasn't disappointed. I actually didn't expect you to return at all."

I'm completely surprised by her assumption and not only do I take a small step backwards, but I also slightly raise my voice. "You thought I'd leave my sister behind?"

However, Nelly's unfazed and she continues to speak softly while staring out at the rain. "Yes. You seemed like a 'greater good' kind of guy."

"What does that mean? Greater good. How?" I ask.

She finally turns toward me and pushes her scarf off her hair and onto her shoulders. I'm briefly distracted by the sparkle of water droplets on her eyelashes and it's even worse when I look into her honey colored eyes. It takes all my willpower to concentrate on her explanation. "It describes someone who puts more value on the needs of the many, rather than make a sacrifice that would only benefit a few."

"Ah, I get it. And I bet I know why you would have thought that. You were basing your expectations on what you've been surrounded by up here," I open up my arms dramatically. "You live in a world where it's 'dog eat dog'. If you don't act with the majority in mind, then one way or another, you're dead."

She begins to protest; however, I continue. "But in my world, we don't do things that way. Every life is just as valuable as the other."

She laughs, but it's not the sound of amusement, but rather bitterness. "Oh my God! Don't you realize the irony of what you're saying?"

I guess I don't because I can see my reflection in the window that could probably be best described as dumbfounded.

"Will, it's kind of stupid for you to be making an 'every life is valuable' speech right now. Don't you realize you're part of just a very few people who had survival handed to them? Because that's what a ticket to the Vanguard meant. So don't go telling me about how pious you were for coming back for your sister!" she turns away from me in a huff.

I consider her words and realize that she's not entirely wrong. But I also know that I have a chance to make things right, so I place my hands on her shoulders and lean toward her. My lips almost graze her ear as I whisper, "Please don't hate me, Nelly."

She doesn't immediately respond, so I know I've taken her off-guard. I take the opportunity to gently grab hold of one end of her scarf and it conveniently slips into my hand as she turns back around.

"It's not that I hate you, Will--," she begins, but stops when she notices the change in my expression. I subsequently use the pause in her attention to knock her feet out from under her, pushing her to the ground in one flawless set of motions.

I'm already tying her hands behind her back with the soft fabric that's still warm from her skin when Nelly begins to object. "What the hell are you doing?"

I figure it's best not to answer, so after expertly making an impenetrable sailor's knot, I take off my belt and secure her feet, as well.

She's still screaming my name when I run down the stairs, grab the vacuum hose and the remote before heading toward the ocean.