Transmitter Failure

[Dr Adjective]

[Evie McKown could be here all night]

Consciousness came at her fast. Evie awakened with a gasp, hands flailing for her neck. Had it all been real? Those terrorist maniacs always hit at the end of the school year, in the summer, right? One minute she'd been relaxing on the bus, complaining a little about the lack of legroom perhaps, but enjoying her time well enough. Trying to predict the Patriots-Bills score for that evening, playing some dumb mobile games, checking in on her Discord friends, the usual journey stuff. Then she'd dozed off, normal enough too, she had a habit of getting sleepy on long journeys after all. Something about the stillness and the stale air, probably. But then it had rapidly become obvious that it had been no ordinary catnap, she'd been half-aware of an auditorium, jeers and screams, then startled fully awake by a gunshot. A presentation, a shovel murder, an exploding throat like something out of a Saw film, and then gassed again.

She felt sick. Violated. Terrified. Hopeless. Manic. A lot of things in a very short span of time. Her fingers closed around the metal, for some reason expecting it to be cold, but of course it had had more than enough time to match her own body heat. Fingertips pressed between metal and soft flesh, but failed to meaningfully get in between. She had a half-formed memory of an earlier class's abduction being discussed, something about kids yanking on their collars to make them detonate... maybe for the best that she couldn't seem to get a grip around hers, then. She wasn't ready to let go just yet, was she? Best not to even have the temptation exist.

Time to get her bearings then, surely. Evie found herself sat on a floor, indoors, propped against a wall, in some kind of doorway. Chilly, but not dreadfully cold. Her backpack was close to hand, but more interestingly, a tan duffel bag stamped with the characters S004. Rummaging through turned up a surprisingly generous supply of survival gear, and a pair of walkie-talkies. The slip of paper accompanying them seemed to confirm that they were here allocated "weapon". Though she couldn't begin to picture herself turning a gun on anyone else in anger, knowing that she'd struggle to defend herself was a disheartening realisation. Then again...

Evie decided to go outside, rather than descend into the foreboding tunnels. She was rewarded with a truly bitter morning chill, but more importantly a small outbuilding laden with antenna. Perhaps it was luck, perhaps someone had a sense of humour about where they dumped the girl with the radios. Either way, Evie braced herself against the chill and made her way up onto the roof, reasoning that a signal from there would be marginally clearer than from on the ground - the antennae were up there for a reason after all, right?

One walkie-talkie on, the other staying in her pocket to save battery life, she selected a frequency at random and tried her luck.

"Hello?"

Pause.

"Can anyone hear me?"

Pause again.

"My name is Evie McKown, from John Endecott Memorial Academy, is anyone out there? Can anyone hear me?"

She waited a moment. No response. Selected a new frequency. Shivered. Tried again. And again. And again...

[Applesintime]

"It's not gonna work."

((Alex had climbed up onto the roof alongside Evie, spear firmly in hand.))

"There's probably nothing close enough to detect you," Alex continued, "apart from maybe the ATs themselves. I'm surprised they even gave you electronics, there's normally nothing."

Nobody would know until tomorrow if he rammed his spear through her back.

[Dr Adjective]

At length, Evie fell into a rhythm. She’d ask her fruitless questions, move a bit, wiggle her arm around, try a new frequency, try again. Lots of numbers in the range her little portable radio’s allowed to operate in, and she was only getting started. Her attention waned, focused as she was on staying warm and idly thinking about song lyrics. No phone, no headphones, her memories of all her favourites would have to do, perhaps for the rest of her life. Sobering thought.

Crunching snow never registered, but a human voice managed to snap her out of her fugue. Evie whirled around to face its source, exclaiming at the sight.

“Jesus fucki— wha-wha-what the fuck?!”

Backing away from the boy with the spear, too busy being terrified of death to actually identify him any further, Evie soon found herself close to an edge. She tried to get a hold of herself, to focus. Don’t panic. she told herself. Panic and die. Stay frosty, stay alive.

It was Alex. Not a friend per se, but friendly. The weird conspiracy guy. Cool stories, but none that she thought could possibly be true. She consciously positioned herself with an antenna between herself and his spear before continuing.

“Watch it with that thing, fuck.”

He hadn’t killed her yet, sure, but that didn’t make Evie think for a second that she was safe.

[Applesintime]

Alex watched Evie freak out, flip around and nearly back off the roof in a panic. Briefly, Alex wondered if he had scared her off the roof and she had fallen and broken her neck would the ATs give him the kill, but that didn't happen so there wasn't really any point to like, thinking about it. Off the top of his head he couldn't remember any kills like that, but Alex suspected that unless she had been deliberately forced off, it wouldn't count.

"Chill. I'm, uh, I'm-I'm just saying. It's kinda pointless to uh, try and signal someone. The ATs would have uh, probably, uh, made sure that yo-you couldn't connect to anything else. ECM jamming or signal blockers or, uh, something, I dunno." It seemed like a bit of a departure from the standard AT weaponry fare, but that probably meant Tracen was very confident that this version would not be interrupted. STARs weren't anywhere to be seen, anyway, and any errant fishermen could just be sunk.

He noticed her positioning. An antenna between her and his spear. He could have easily put the spear through her back while she talked and he wouldn't be having this conversation. But he'd always liked Evie. She was willing to hear him out, and it, like, just seemed wrong to stab her without a second thought. He could always do it now, though. He was blocking the only way off apart from jumping, and this spear was apparently designed for throwing. If she escaped, he could always chance a throw.

But instead of lunging forwards, Alex took another step closer.

"So, uh, wow. SOTF. Never thought I'd be in one myself."

[Dr Adjective]

Staying as on-edge as she was whilst also following what Alex was saying proved a difficult task, but Evie applied herself as best she could. The stress was evident all over her body though, she remained tense and still despite the cold, her breathing came sharp and shallow, her eyes forever flitting between Alex’s and his weapon.

Did he know how frightening he came across? Carrying not just a dangerous weapon, but also some level of foreknowledge, and judging by his comparatively relaxed manner, a sort of jaded disconnection from the horror?

He took a step, she responded in kind, circling further around. Somewhere in the back of her mind she felt an odd familiarity to the situation, like the footwork of a Hollywood swordfight except only one duelist bore a weapon.

“No, I guess none of us did,” she managed to respond, forcing down the urge to stammer from the fear and the cold.
“Didn’t they always happen in summer, before?”

Meanwhile, her eyes drifted past Alex for a moment, trying to judge how badly it’d hurt to jump from that height.

[Dogs231]

S091: CLAIRE HAIG — CONTINUED FROM "The Dead of Winter."

With a wailing creak, she climbed the rungs, the unease setting in the higher she went. The sound of her steps echoed like the pitter-patter of rain. Claire stood up, the anxiety building in her chest.

Her eyes caught the figure—Alex, she thought, and Evie. Alex was wielding a spear; it was unsettling, to be honest, but she tried not to make assumptions.

"Hey, uh," she murmured, her voice nary a whisper, "I hope I'm not unwelcome..."

She offered an uneasy smile, a nervous laugh echoing from the back of her throat. It was all the confidence that she could muster right now.

[Applesintime]

"Yeah, in the summer. May to uh, July I think. Never done a winter game before, so I guessed we'd be safe." Alex shrugged. Danya, both father and son, seemed to be creatures of routine. Covid had maybe messed things up, though. A reminder to people that a school trip was never truly safe. Whether you were on a plane or a bus, you ran the same risk as eight classes before you. A bunch of conspiracy theorists might decide you were fake and never existed.

Alex wasn't like, good at reading body language or whatever, but you'd have to be blind to ignore that Evie was clearly uncomfortable. He didn't mean her any harm. If he had, he wouldn't have called her out on the walkie talkie not working. He'd have just rammed the spear into her back and watched the life drain from her and stain the snow crimson. It wouldn't be a rare sight in SOTF. Hell, they showed 'friend kills friend' for the opening ceremony (well, that was what the ithaca guys called it, as nobody really knew what was in it, so they had all these dumb fantasies), one from V7. He'd watched Diego die more than a couple of times, but being shown it in the context of actually being in SOTF was a first.

His thoughts were interrupted by someone else climbing up. Watching them - a girl - ascending the ladder, Alex's grip on the spear tightened. If Evie hadn't been here, he might have let this girl climb up and then rammed it through her. But instead, he just stepped aside and let her climb on up.

"So, uh, you got the walkie talkie, I got the spear," he raised it for emphasis, "what'd you get, uh... dunno your name. And hey, draws don't mean anything. d'Aramitz got a cyanide pill or something like that and they were real successful." In comparison to the other two, Alex wasn't bothered by this at all. It was like... watching like a thousand people build something from IKEA seven times in a row before having to actually build it yourself. Might seem daunting if you were doing it for the first time without any guides, but if you know what you're doing, you can just copy.

[Dr Adjective]

Mercifully, a diversion soon presented itself, releasing Evie from her awkward dance of don’t-get-stabbed-with-a-spear. First came the telltale crunch of snow, then the clanking ladder rungs, then a familiar face. Perhaps that last part shouldn’t have come as a surprise, given that everyone on the island was from the same school after all, but some animal part of Evie’s brain had somehow expected a stranger.

She wanted to greet Claire, exclaim how glad she was to see a friendly face, maybe go in for an ill-advised hug, but Alex was still standing there between them. Armed. Weirdly blasé about the whole situation. He started asking about weapon assignments the same way she might’ve talked about what she was having for lunch, bringing up a name that sounded faintly familiar and how well they’d done at murdering people. Extremely normal conversation.

So for her part, Evie shot Claire a sympathetic look but kept her mouth very much shut now that the attention was elsewhere, keeping her focus on having some kind of obstacle between her and Alex, and continuing to judge how bad of an idea jumping might be.

[Dogs231]

The question took her a little off-guard. It wasn't that the question was unexpected—it felt pretty reasonable, actually—but that the tone was so wildly out-of-line. Alex, that was his name, right?—She'd never been good at remembering things like that—just said it like nothing weird was happening.

It wasn't like they'd gotten sentenced to death or anything—they'd just had a fun field day diversion to the execution chamber. Sure. Cool. Fucking wonderful. Claire made a mental note to keep a closer eye on him; the last thing she needed was that spear through her back.

"Oh, uh, you know," she scrambled for the words, pausing for a moment, and then just pointed to her head. "I got these," Claire said, matter-of-factly—no need to mince words. Then, she flipped the goggles down and up again, like this was show-and-tell, and she wanted to demonstrate it. Then, her hand just stayed there, motionless, holding the goggles.

She took a deep breath, trying to release the tension in her bones, and then exhaled again. A part of her had grown a little more accustomed to the cold weather—she'd always liked it—and the air was starting to feel refreshing. Her mind had almost caught up to her now. She was a little frazzled at the moment—you know, death game and such—but she was getting there. Slowly.

Anyway, on a more positive note: Evie was there. She was a friend. Having a friend was always good—Claire'd been without them long enough to know that. At the very least, that turned this interaction from "horribly distressing" to merely "in the uncanny valley." That was a step up, not a big one, but it was something—that was starting to feel like a running theme.

She offered another weak smile, raised her right hand, and tilted it back and forth, a little wave. Then, she shoved both hands into her coat pockets. Eyes glanced at Evie, then at Alex, then the spear, then the roof, then the ground below.

"So," she said, letting a beat pass. "I want to clarify something here: you planning on using that spear? 'cause, like, you're being a little menacing, no offense."

[Applesintime]

Night vision goggles. Not Sam Fisher style, but they still looked pretty sturdy. A good utility weapon pull. Wasn't an actual weapon, but if he could pick something that wasn't a weapon, night vision goggles would be up there. With her answer, the girl decied to address the elephant in the room.

He shrugged.

"If I'd been intending to use it on you two, I would have already." The night vision goggles would be incredibly useful for hunting during the night: the islands often had non-existant or intermittent power, and judging by how dilapidated everything was, there wasn't any infrastructure on the island. So night vision goggles would give Alex an inherent advantage. That's how you won Survival of the Fittest: you stacked the deck in your favour and played smart.

He'd have to keep an eye on the other girl.

A part of him relished in the nervous look on their faces. People had mocked him for years because he just happened to be interested in one of the most goddamn interesting events in the 21st century, and when the event came to their door they had no idea what to expect. They panicked, faltered, failed. Alex, on the other hand, knew every intricacy of SOTF. What to do. What not to do. He was certain that he'd succeed.

That's what he kept telling himself.

[Dr Adjective]

“So what now?”

Evie was certainly not ready to drop her guard, but over time the cold had worked it’s way back towards the top of her list of priorities and Alex had plainly claimed he wasn’t planning on killing either of them. Plus, if Dark Souls was anything to go by at least, a spear became much less threatening of a weapon in a two on one scenario. Or, more importantly for what she was thinking of, in a cramped environment.

“You wanna get inside, out of this cold?”

[Dogs231]

Claire stole another glance at Alex; if her face had been capable of such a look, she would've cocked an eyebrow at the guy. Instead, though, she just looked away again. Sure, like she'd take that at face value. This guy did seem to consider himself the authoritative source on all things slaughter, after all. Yeah, right.

That chilling cadence told her all she needed to know: this guy had "bloody murder" written all over him. Means, the spear in his hands; motive, to gain an advantage for himself; opportunity? The moment she let her guard down.

None of this sat right with her, but she couldn't just leave. Evie was there, and Claire wasn't just about to leave her alone with this guy. Friends didn't stab friends in the back—and they didn't let other people stab friends in the back, either. She'd be damned if she threw Evie to the wolves.

The suggestion the other girl posed was good, too. See, the advantage of a weapon like a spear was that it gave you an extended reach. You go into a small, closed-off area, and suddenly, that's a weakness—your long-range weapon becomes too long to maneuver, and you're now at the mercy of fate.

So, the point raised, she made her push.

"Glad to hear it. And yeah, sounds good, Evie," Claire said, with a wry smile, "it's freezing out here. We'll be better off with a place to stay. Alex—that's your name, right? You in?"

[Applesintime]

Alex would prefer they didn't go inside. He didn't think that the spear would be too negatively impacted by the indoors, but being indoors meant he had a lot less space to work with. If a fight here went, like, wrong, he could just jump off the roof in any direction and assuming he didn't break or sprain his leg, he could easily run. Indoors, there was one way in and one way out, unless he broke a window. Something went wrong in there, he could be trapped.

But this wasn't unsalvagable. All he had to do was split one of them off from one another and then it'd be easy enough pickings. But that was easier said than done, and then there was the sunk-cost fallacy. There was already dead, Alex was sure of that. There were a few early deaths, opportunistic players getting their first kill or someone falling off a mountain or something. But normally the first few hours were chaotic, emotional. He could take advantage of that. There'd be that false security that nobody would actually play until the speakers turned on and Danya's voice reverberated through the mountains.

Alex hadn't realised that he was still staring at Evie as he thought until an especially cold gust of wind snapped him out of his mind. "Yeah, sure. Th-that sounds good." It was cold here. He'd give them a few more minutes of time, and if nothing panned out, he'd look elsewhere inside this complex.

"Who's going down first?"

[Dr Adjective]

It occurred to her, around about this time, that Evie was still holding a walkie-talkie. So first she turned that off and clipped it awkwardly onto a belt loop on her jeans. That freed her hands up to rub together for a moment, though she resisted the urge to shove them into her pockets for warmth. Not yet, not with a very dangerous pointy stick still in play.

The others agreed to get off the exposed rooftop and go inside, but of course, Alex found a way to turn that into a whole new standoff anyway. She’d have rolled her eyes at the predictability except, well, it was pretty justified fear-of-death type paranoia. She remained right where she was, canting her head in Alex’s direction.

“You’ve got the talking stick.”

[Dogs231]

"Cool, happy to have you," she said with a nod, "I'm Claire, by the way."

Alex. She'd gotten the name right. That was a step towards de-escalating things, she hoped. Maybe, knowing she cared enough to try and get his name right, he'd be a little more at ease. After all, she and Evie were already friends; he was the outsider in the group. He seemed nervous, she was guessing, but that was fair enough: weren't they all?

Still, though, something didn't sit right with Claire. It wasn't something she could explain. There was a pressure in the air, a dread looming over them like storm clouds. Maybe she was just paranoid, or the latent anxiety was talking, but she wasn't so sure. Every alarm bell was blaring in her ears, along with the tinnitus.

"I have a bad feeling about this," she thought, still trying to puzzle out Alex—not exactly her forte, to be sure.

Claire wasn't the best at reading the room—she preferred the classics to that—but she was willing to believe that Evie had the right idea. The other girl was more social than her and probably knew the intricacies better. So, she'd leave the talking to the talker—even if that talker didn't have the so-called talking stick.

"I dunno," she said, shooting a knowing glance to her friend, "whatever works."