Run to the Hills

[Dr Adjective]

[Andrew Lapson got disorientated by all that Megaphone business.]

Fleeing the mountain the way he did was probably the right move at the time. Sure, he should've helped Marshall. He wanted to help Marshall. But by the time he'd reached him and DeMarcus, things were already going from bad to worse, and he had Dani and maybe Fred to worry about.

Only, worrying about them hadn't done them very much good. The three had all managed to split off in different directions, and by the time Andrew felt like he was on stable enough footing and far away enough from the maniac with the gun to safely look for the other two. No luck, though. Instead he found himself in the vicinity of the mine that was apparently the whole point of the town below, and decided that some shelter from the elements would be better than... well, not having that. So into the labyrinth of pipes and walkways that was the gloomy interior of the mineral processing building he went. He settled in in a small office room that had apparently been occupied before judging by the way the furniture seemed to have been recently disturbed. There he let himself come down from the adrenaline of fleeing gunfire, and eventually got to sleep.

The next day was another quiet one. Was that how Andrew's life was to end? Not in violence, just... boredom? Slowly losing his mind while his body wasted away on meagre rations of bread and water?

Well. There was always the pill. The instructions clearly described what 300mg of potassium cyanide would do, and Andrew had seen enough spy movies to be able to visualise.

It might be a better way to go than getting shot, or bludgeoned with a rock, or any other horrible thing some crazy person like Kitty Graves might think to do to him. Speaking of whom, per that morning's announcement, she was up another kill. Great. He also made a note not to go looking in the Foreman's Office, now that that was off limits. Happily, at least, none of the people he'd seen on the mountain had died. Eleven others weren't so lucky.

So instead he stuck around in the office, dwelling on his suicide pill and his prospects for survival. At some point during the day he went outside to stretch his legs. He came back with a reasonably sharp rock, and carved his name into the wall near whoever "BETH" was had put hers. There was a Bethany in his class, right? Probably her. Blonde chick, pretty but kind of an asshole, way too into Jesus... even so, he hoped she was okay, and her name here wasn't all that was left of her. Not even Kitty deserved to die here, not really.

The day dragged on, the gloom of the unlit interior turned to the pitch black of night, and Andrew slept again.

The next morning answered his pondering. That Bethany girl had died fighting the prom queen. He stared at her name carved into the wall as the rest of the announcement played out, not sure how to mentally articulate the feeling it evoked. If he had his phone, he could probably pick out a song that said what he couldn't. Not that it mattered. The cave and the pass he'd come down from two days prior were added to the list of danger zones, too, effectively cutting off the north half of the island from the south at the town end. Good thing Andrew didn't have any strong desire to visit the lakeside campground, he supposed.

Nope. He was just gonna barricade himself in the little room and wait for a sign for what the hell he was supposed to do next, alone with nothing but a quick way out.

[Ryuki]

(Chester Folk, continued from Let's Roll Up Our Sleeves)

Chester intended to travel to the town, following Shawn's advice to find a place to start his fire. On the way, he decided to stop by the mine, to see if he could find some supplies. The foreman's office, where his quest began, was a danger zone, so he couldn't search there. He thought back to the first day and wondered, how were Aion and Amos? Hopefully they were safe.

With that, Chester headed for the mineral processing building. A place like this could have something that could help, right? When he entered the building, Chester noted just how run down everything looked. It looked like a setting for an old horror game. There were pipes and conveyor belts, but he didn't see any wood. With the bundle of sticks he'd been carrying, Chester started to explore.

[D/N]

Ask for a sign and you don't get one. Or you get this instead.

(Fey Zelenka-Morrison continued from I Hardly Knew Ya)

"Hey, AMERICA!"

Fey shoulderblocked her way through the double doors and announced her presence.

"Hey hey fuckos, I got something to say! Besides goddamn it's cold out there amirite?"

Hahaha.

Her skin felt stretched out over her skull a bit. Which, given that Fey already knew she was the tall skelly-girl of the student body, probably wasn't doing any wonders for her graceful good looks right now. Couple of those days of not eating would do that to ya. Maybe she shouldn't have been quite so confident on the whole surviving on snow with no bag or food sort of thing.

She'd spent most of the last day raging in one of those abandoned houses, brooding inwardly but outwardly feeling pretty damn exhausted and only stumbling out to slurp at that lovely ground. Then, overnight, it felt like those energy reserves had started to build and send her back out into the storm.

Literally this time around hohohohohohohohohohohohoweiuahfas.

Because she finally had the realization. She finally had the inspiration. She finally had that whambam moment of clarity to prove to you all what she was here for.

ANYWAY.

"SO ANYWAY, HEY AMERICA HOW YOU DOING?"

Alright, let's do this. Where's the nearest camera anyways? Can't give her grandiose and certainly eloquent impassionation without the camera nearby. This was only what her whole goddamn life had been leading up to.

There we go.

Fey stomped over to the nearest wall and stared into the camera eye.

"Alright, here we go! Hey America, this is Fey Zelenka-Morrison and I'm gonna die soon! But I got something to say first. So you know, whoever from the government is gonna be monitoring this, okay buddy, this, THIS is what you gotta make sure it gets to Kirby, OK! I would've voted for him and everything! Look I promise you I am fucking Democrat THROUGH AND FUCKING THROUGH but you know what, this is for everyone! Spread the word! I don't care if fucking Cannon is the one who listens and gets elected instead as long as you take my advice because I, BECUASE OH MY GOD I'm gonna tell you right now exactly what you need to do to stop this shit forever, OK? You listening now? YOU LISTENING? YOU---"

"Oh, hey Chester."

Goddamnit.

At least he was someone who might actually listen. Good guy Chester. Stupid name. Good guy. He'd be on board with this.

He'd better be.

[Dr Adjective]

It hadn’t been much of a struggle to shove a desk in front of the door. Andrew had almost hoped the carpet might give him more trouble, take up some more of his day and keep his mind and hands busy. When his hands were idle he wanted to fiddle with the pill. When his mind was idle he thought about using it.

It’d be one of the more painless ways to get out of this sick game, wouldn’t it?

Then someone else could last a little longer with his food. Maybe his clothes would be what kept someone from freezing. Maybe he’d really do something to help someone, unlike his useless attempts at heroism so far.

The grim train of thought was abruptly cut off by the slam of doors outside, in the main body of the building. Andrew thought it might be wind at first, but the soft howl outside was nowhere near enough to throw the heavy doors around like that. For good measure, Fey made her human presence known pretty swiftly anyway. Made it known by yelling incoherently like she was trying to work a pro wrestling crowd, a lot of words and noise but most of them padding the run time rather than conveying meaning… right up until she seemed to be getting to the point, and abruptly stopped to greet someone who must’ve been creeping around very quietly for Andrew not to have noticed him already.

Curious and cautious in equal measure, the boy pressed his ear to the door, clutching the sharp rock he’d scraped the wall with for all the worth it had as a weapon. Just in case. Funny how ready you suddenly are to fight for your life once it’s somebody else that might be putting it in danger.

[Ryuki]

Suddenly, someone burst through the double doors, talking like a wrestler's hype man. Chester just stood there, a bit dumbfounded, but also a bit amused. He watched as they addressed the imaginary audience (or the audience watching this game through the cameras) with gusto, until they noticed Chester standing nearby.

"Hey Fey," said Chester, laughing slightly.

The person in question was Fey Zelenka-Morrison. She had joined him in protests, and was just as left leaning as he was. It was nice to see a familiar face.

"Don't mind me," he said, "If you got any ideas to stop this game, I'm listening."

[D/N]

Fuck yes. Chester got the deal. Chester was indeed cool.

See, see?

Hahaha. Fuck you Leticia. Fey didn't have to take long to prove you wrong.

"Thanks man, thanks. Sorry, I'm worked up. I... kinda a bit on fumes, I haven't eaten in like 3 days got my bag stolen. But anyway, I gotta do this fore I lose my nerve, you're gonna love this one min."

She smiled and turned back to the camera.

"So yeah! You wanna know how to stop this? You wanna get like 800% less killing? So go out and spread the word to the government, get this on your agenda. See, when whoever the winner is comes home, and they show up and they're all like 'hey I won?', you know what you do? Any wild guesses? Here's one!"

"YOU TAKE THEIR FUCKING ASS AND YOU PROSECUTE THEM FOR FUCKING MURDER THAT'S WHAT!"

It was over fifteen years in the making and Fey was the pioneer who would bring this shit home.

"I mean, Christ, you do that and no one's killing on this island except like what, MAYBE a couple stone cold psychos where were always waiting to snap? But noooo, instead you just let them off? FUCK THAT BITCHES. What the hell? I mean, what, what, what do they use this as an excuse or something? We go after fucking war criminals without going 'welp did what you had to do it was war', huh? You're not supposed to like shoot unarmed people in cold blood just cause its war! YOU GO TO JAIL. Fucking fourteen year old Crip and Blood gangbangers shoot each other up, are we all like 'hey now they were from the streets and they couldn't escape the life let's let them go' no we fucking try them as adults and toss them in jail for life! We gotta prosecute the cops when they kill people, right? No 'it's their job' shit, not when they fucking kill people so what we gotta do is take the winner and toss them in jail for life or I don't give a shit how bout the federal death penalty and then there's no one here killing to win. THAT, THAT's my speech thank you!!"

Ha ha ha. Yex. Ye. Leticia or some dumb asshole thinks they can kill their way off this island? Not with Fey standing guard.

"We gotta protest," and it was half still to the camera and half to Chester this time round, "we gotta make this message stick, like tell everyone you meet that ain't a killer, tell every camera it's like the more the merrier right,"

And old Fey could see her memory living on. Fey the Genius. Fey the Fuckin Righteous. Fey the--

"HOLY SHIT HE'S DEAD!"

Fey had taken a step down a walkway and seen some dead guy in a coat that was disconcertingly like hers propped between two random machines. Blood was pooled. Dude looked squishy and stabbed. Dude was dead.

She spun round and turned to Chester. Eyes narrowed. Dukes up, glass... well it was a bit tarnished and scratch so not exactly glinting no more. But it was all she had with her still outside her coat and boots.

Maybe old Chester wasn't one of the good dudes after all.

"How long you been here Chester, huh?!"

[Dr Adjective]

While Andrew didn't exactly recognise who was speaking, he recognised one thing well enough: neither of them was to be trusted with his life. One seemed violently unhinged, switching between weirdly calm and screaming at the top of her lungs at the drop of a hat, whilst the other was barely audible, but going by the female voice's commentary, had been creeping about for a conspicuously long time without having reacted to a dead body, apparently.

So. Trapped in a room, only a few inches of plywood separating him from a possible murderer, and the starving, deranged fed cheerleader. If he didn't have the more pressing matter of being scared for his life on his mind, Andrew might have some things to say about every single one of them being victims of circumstance, about their captors being the actual killers of everyone on the island. But he did have that much more pressing matter on his mind, and even if he didn't, he felt suitably concerned for that voice's sanity that he'd probably have thought better of it anyway.

But was he trapped? This little office was one of the few enclosed spaces in the building that actually had all its windows intact, probably why it had shown signs of habitation before Andrew had shown up, and certainly why he'd chosen it. But that didn't mean he couldn't just smash through.

Plan assembled, Andrew did two things: first, he found a chair, and wedged it between the door handle and his makeshift barricade, making sure it'd be hard enough to open that he'd have plenty of time to make good his escape. Next, he grabbed a second chair, took aim briefly, then swung it full-force into the glass.

[Ryuki]

Chester stood there as Fey finished her speech on how the winner of this game should be jailed or given the death penalty. Chester wasn't exactly on board 100% with that idea. At the end of all this, the wasn't the winner's fault they were forced into a life or death game. Regardless, Chester gave a little golf clap when Fey finished.

But then, Fey shouted, "HOLY SHIT! HE'S DEAD!"

Chester looked to where Fey was looking, and saw a dead body. Oh, damn! What happened to this guy? Then, Fey directed her attention to Chester, with an accusatory expression. Did she seriously think he did this? Chester raised his arms.

"I just got here!," he said, defensively, "I didn't know that body was there until you found it!"

Chester motioned to put the glass down.

"Just relax," Chester said, half addressing himself, "I didn't do anything. I'm just looking for stuff to start a fire."

[D/N]

Fey's nostrils flared. She shifted her Docs. She was prepped for this bastard who faked being one of ers. Shoulda known it all along about him. She was gonna be bringing back her catchphrase from the start of this game if only she could remember what the fuck it was.

She strained her knucks a bit. Saw the broken glass on her gloves sparkle like gin. Chester raised his dukes as well.

And said he had nothing to do with this.

...Fuck.

He was probably telling the truth, weren't he? He was acting like it.

"Uh....."

Maybe he was lying. Was Chester a liar?

Fey... guessed not?

"...Yeah. Right. OK. Sorry. Uh...." She worked her body out of battle mode.

Besides, even if Chester was a killer, Fey wasn't killing him. That was the whole point. She was just gonna fearlessly CONFRONT 'em.

And let 'em know that cause of Fey they were gonna be fucked up the ass even if they managed to get off this island.

"Yeah. So. Fire, huh? What for? I... I remember working on making a fire back on the first night of this."

Yeah, back when she'd been saying certain stuff and was all scared but raring to go at the same time. Way back when.

"Seems... Jesus Christ that seems like a long time ago already. I'm kinda lost what day even is this and--"

And hold that idle chatter cause there was a shuffling.

"What was that?!"

Then there was a smashing. Loud. Gunshot loud, but not actually a gunshot and Fey knew what she was talking about there.

Her head snapped in several different directions and then zoned in. Off in the corner of the building; the sounds, the door. Perfect cover. Fey went in full on sprint mode. Oh this was it, this was it.

She skidded to a stop right in front and pawed fruitlessly at the knob, twisting it. Banged her shoulder up against the door. Them smashes hit again. Trying to escape? Maybe killing someone else. Or they'd heard Fey's oratory and were having a fucking breakdown at the whole realization of what it meant and their entire fucking world collapsed all right round them.

"It's locked. The killer's gotta be in there! Hey killer! You're gonna be fucked! Lemme tell ya something!"

Fey backed up, then sprinted full-speed at the door, launching into it with what she'd swear to the lord was a picture-perfect flying dropkick.

"Yeeeeiiiaa, I'm ready fer ya!"

Thud.

"FUCK!"

Fey bounced off the door and went down hard. Her hand hit the ground first.

Her body hit the ground second; Fey squealed, shifted and pushed against the floor to pop right back up and give the door another kick, and her feet slipped on the way up and she came right back down again.

Right onto said hand. Palm down. Jagged knucks up.

She howled.

"AAAAH MY AAAAASSSSSS!"

[Dr Adjective]

Things went from bad to worse in the mean time. There was a brief silence, then suddenly someone was banging on the door. It was all Andrew needed to hear. Using the chair to brush away the remaining shards in the window frame, the boy made sure his exit route wouldn't be the death of him, then grabbed his bag and vaulted out through the window into the soft snow beyond. By the time he overheard a voice calling him a killer, it was a bit late to head back in and try to explain things. Nope, this time it was Andrew getting spooked and running the hell away from the gathering. The sound of Captain Loudmouth screaming FUCK at the top of her lungs only helped reinforce the notion that anywhere else would be a better place to be.

He hoped it'd turn out better for him than it had for most everyone else he'd run into and lost track of so far.

[Andrew Lapson hasn't got a prayer.]

[Ryuki]

Well, that escalated quickly. Fey ran and flew at the door with a kick, and landed on her butt. If there was a killer in there, they probably were laughing their head off. Chester ran up to where Fey had fallen, and offered to help her up.

"What happened?," asked Chester.

When Fey got up, Chester could see the damage. Fey got some glass in her ass.

"Ouch, that's bad," Chester said, wincing, "Need some help, uh..."

Chester was going to ask if she wanted his help getting the glass out of her glutes, but he felt that would be a bit awkward.

"Need some help getting that door open?," he asked quickly.

[D/N]

Owie owie oh.

Fey's howl transitioned abruptly into a gasp as she flopped around on the floor, her hand stuck to the backside of her jeans, before it became a series of pained yelps and finally finished with a continuous moan. It was a menagerie of musical moments, is what it was. All the Irish drinking songs come together to have a laugh at her expense. She was barely cognizant of Chester helping lift her back to her feet, as she struggled and finally pulled her hand free, leaving two jagged chunks still sticking through the fabric and piercing the flesh.

And Chester was asking about help getting the door open?

The door? The fucking door?

Fey thrashed her head around trying to look behind her and see the damage that was done. She couldn't see a fucking thing. I mean, not that she knew it at the time, but thankfully most of the glass on her glove was too ground down enough to puncture through her jeans, but those two jagged pieces that did... well it wasn't exactly pretty.

"No... help... fuckin get this out I can't!"

Oh god it hurt it hurt she was totally gonna die from blood loss to the ass.

"Oh god oh fucking god I'm sorry I'm sorry."

[Ryuki]

"Right, right, sorry," said Chester, hastily picking the glass from Fey's bottom.

Chester's finger bled a bit, as he tried to pull the biggest shards from the back of her pants. What the hell did she even fall on? That's when Chester noticed the glove with the glass on it.

"I can't believe they'd make something like that," said Chester.

Once the glass was removed, Chester dug through his bag for the first aid kit.

"We probably need to patch that, huh?," said Chester, "I'll let you borrow some alcohol and bandages, and give you some privacy, 'kay?"

[D/N]

(super sorry here Ryuki I've been totally laid up with COVID the last few days)

"oooooohhhh, oh god oh fuck."

She sat there alone in a pile of misery as Chester, like some fucking stupid Gawain the Green Knight shit, left her alone with his first aid kit.

Oh yeah, she should totally take it and run. She should hobble on out of here cackling like a fucking loon with a stolen first aid kid cause she didn't have any-fucking thing else.

Fey felt around behind her.

Instead she slipped down to her knees and slid her tattered jeans and underwear down and strained to look.

Fuck oh fuck.

No, what she should do because what she needed to do was be stupid and fuckling helpless again and call Chester to come back in and patch up her ass correctly. She needed some fucking stitches or something. Yeah. Have Chester come back and field hospital her ass! Her fucking her fucking

"FUCKA!"

She felt Chester turn his his her way. Even if she couldn't see it.

"Sorry, just.... gimme a minute."

Fey grabbed the first aid kit. Fuck it all.

She tore out the thing called the antsepting dressing. That looked like it would be the stuff that stuck. She slapped it on the bleeding spot. Another one on top. What else? Bandages? How the fuck do you bandage an ass?

She groaned and put a third one on the bleeding spots. Where it felt like there were at least. There. She'd be fine.

"Hey Chester," she called out.

"Uh, thanks. Fuck. I'm.... all that shit. Sorry. Whatever."

Ugh.

"I'm gonna check that body and go. You uh... you can come with. Or hang. Whatever."

[Ryuki]

“It’s cool,” Chester replied, “ Sure, we can hang.”

Chester collected the first aid kit and put it back in his bag.

“So, listen,” he said, “If you want, I could explain what the big plan is for the fire I wanna start.”

As he finished zipping up his bag, he made his way down to the entrance. Before he was halfway there, he turned to Fey.

“I’ll be over there waiting,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets, “Holler if you need anything.”

With that, Chester waited by the door.

(Chester Folk, continued elsewhere…)