Olive Branch
Olive Branch
[Travis Webster continued from For What Happened to Daisy...]
He wasn't sure how long he had been walking. If he had been tired and in pain before he set out of the Storage Yard, it was nothing compared to how he felt right now. He had followed the main road through the island, limping slowly through the night. Most people had gone to sleep by this time, he imagined. That was why he had decided he couldn't go to sleep just yet. His plan was to get as far away from civilization as possible, to where there might be fewer kids moving around. Once morning came, he would be a sitting duck unless he found somewhere to wash off and rest.
And so, he'd kept struggling through the night, until finally he reached the Western Beach, where he promptly collapsed. He yawned and looked into the sky. This would have to do. He couldn't move an inch further.
Several hours later, he awoke from the announcement. Still drowsy, he barely registered what was being said until he heard his own name mentioned.
"Travis Webster chopped up Edgar Tolstoff, threatening to kill his sister the whole time. Well, I'm sorry to tell you, Mr. Webster, that Stacy Ramsey beat you to the punch, gunning down Katarin Tolstoff and Miranda Millers while they were sitting around having a chat.
Travis couldn't help but let out a surprised laugh. Stacy Ramsey had performed a double homicide. Who would have thought? Beat him to the punch indeed.
"Finally, in between Mr. Webster's horror film and Ms. Ramsey's rampage..."
He sighed. He'd just gotten a big, fat crosshair painted on him by the terrorists. This was what he'd wanted to avoid ever since day one! He supposed it was only a matter of time before the self-designated "Monster hunters" came looking for him.
Tss... Let them come. We all saw how the last so called "hero" who attacked me ended up.
As for Danger Zones, he didn't hear the Western Beach mentioned. As such, he didn't really care. He wasn't planning on moving away from this place anytime soon. He stretched out and yawned again.
"... Hansel Williams, who can make his way to the School Grounds for a heaping tray of lasagna and a gun."
Like that motherfucker needs any more guns. What a fucking waste.
Again, a few hours passed.
He slowly stood up. His entire body ached, everything he wore was dirty and caked in blood, and his body was covered in sweat and filth. This wouldn't do.
He quickly stripped down. He didn't mind the cameras really. If he went back home, people having seen him naked was hardly the first thing he'd worry about.
He left his bags and his weapons with his dirty clothes and slowly went into the cool water. It felt cold on his skin, but he knew it wasn't as bad as he imagined it to be. He'd get used to it soon enough. Not to mention, cold water was hardly the worst problem he'd faced so far on the island.
He quickly dipped his head. He cringed as the salty water quickly washed over his wounds, but he knew that it was necessary. A little pain was a small price to pay to feel clean again.
He wasn't sure how long he had been walking. If he had been tired and in pain before he set out of the Storage Yard, it was nothing compared to how he felt right now. He had followed the main road through the island, limping slowly through the night. Most people had gone to sleep by this time, he imagined. That was why he had decided he couldn't go to sleep just yet. His plan was to get as far away from civilization as possible, to where there might be fewer kids moving around. Once morning came, he would be a sitting duck unless he found somewhere to wash off and rest.
And so, he'd kept struggling through the night, until finally he reached the Western Beach, where he promptly collapsed. He yawned and looked into the sky. This would have to do. He couldn't move an inch further.
Several hours later, he awoke from the announcement. Still drowsy, he barely registered what was being said until he heard his own name mentioned.
"Travis Webster chopped up Edgar Tolstoff, threatening to kill his sister the whole time. Well, I'm sorry to tell you, Mr. Webster, that Stacy Ramsey beat you to the punch, gunning down Katarin Tolstoff and Miranda Millers while they were sitting around having a chat.
Travis couldn't help but let out a surprised laugh. Stacy Ramsey had performed a double homicide. Who would have thought? Beat him to the punch indeed.
"Finally, in between Mr. Webster's horror film and Ms. Ramsey's rampage..."
He sighed. He'd just gotten a big, fat crosshair painted on him by the terrorists. This was what he'd wanted to avoid ever since day one! He supposed it was only a matter of time before the self-designated "Monster hunters" came looking for him.
Tss... Let them come. We all saw how the last so called "hero" who attacked me ended up.
As for Danger Zones, he didn't hear the Western Beach mentioned. As such, he didn't really care. He wasn't planning on moving away from this place anytime soon. He stretched out and yawned again.
"... Hansel Williams, who can make his way to the School Grounds for a heaping tray of lasagna and a gun."
Like that motherfucker needs any more guns. What a fucking waste.
Again, a few hours passed.
He slowly stood up. His entire body ached, everything he wore was dirty and caked in blood, and his body was covered in sweat and filth. This wouldn't do.
He quickly stripped down. He didn't mind the cameras really. If he went back home, people having seen him naked was hardly the first thing he'd worry about.
He left his bags and his weapons with his dirty clothes and slowly went into the cool water. It felt cold on his skin, but he knew it wasn't as bad as he imagined it to be. He'd get used to it soon enough. Not to mention, cold water was hardly the worst problem he'd faced so far on the island.
He quickly dipped his head. He cringed as the salty water quickly washed over his wounds, but he knew that it was necessary. A little pain was a small price to pay to feel clean again.
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((Cassidy Kant continued from Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep))
Stick to the fringe, keep an eye out for ships. That seemed like an easy enough plan. She held a boot in each hand, swinging them back and forth in cadence with her steps. Her bare feet smushed through sand and spashed through water as the sea foam came and went, greeting and retreating. Over the sound of her own steps, she heard more violent splashing nearby. She looked to the water, than over her shoulder. Bare ocean and vanishing footprints. She looked ahead and saw a pile of... various things. Her footsteps stopped and she narrowed her eyes, nobody was on the beach. Had someone left their belongings here?
More splashing, she found the source this time. Somebody was in the ocean. Somebody was naked in the ocean. She blinked quickly and looked back down at the sand. Apparently it was time for mid-afternoon skinny dipping on Hell Isle.
She laughed, as though nakedness had been the worst thing she'd seen the past few days. Looking back up, she squinted to try and make out the figure. Long black hair, for a guy at least. Slender. It was hard to tell much about his size while he was crouched in the water. It was even harder without some kind of style to help identify him, people looked different naked. She opened her mouth to call out, but naked people usually preferred their privacy.
She turned away from the tide and started towards what must have been the boy's belongings. She'd look away while he changed, but she couldn't pass up companionship at this point. She was willing to get over his nakedness if he was. It would be nice to have a friend, somebody to swap horror stories with. A slight smile formed.
There was no way this kid had had it worse than her.
Stick to the fringe, keep an eye out for ships. That seemed like an easy enough plan. She held a boot in each hand, swinging them back and forth in cadence with her steps. Her bare feet smushed through sand and spashed through water as the sea foam came and went, greeting and retreating. Over the sound of her own steps, she heard more violent splashing nearby. She looked to the water, than over her shoulder. Bare ocean and vanishing footprints. She looked ahead and saw a pile of... various things. Her footsteps stopped and she narrowed her eyes, nobody was on the beach. Had someone left their belongings here?
More splashing, she found the source this time. Somebody was in the ocean. Somebody was naked in the ocean. She blinked quickly and looked back down at the sand. Apparently it was time for mid-afternoon skinny dipping on Hell Isle.
She laughed, as though nakedness had been the worst thing she'd seen the past few days. Looking back up, she squinted to try and make out the figure. Long black hair, for a guy at least. Slender. It was hard to tell much about his size while he was crouched in the water. It was even harder without some kind of style to help identify him, people looked different naked. She opened her mouth to call out, but naked people usually preferred their privacy.
She turned away from the tide and started towards what must have been the boy's belongings. She'd look away while he changed, but she couldn't pass up companionship at this point. She was willing to get over his nakedness if he was. It would be nice to have a friend, somebody to swap horror stories with. A slight smile formed.
There was no way this kid had had it worse than her.
The cold water proved a godsend. Soon enough, he had managed to wash out the blood from his hair. And while his sins would not wash away as easily as the blood, it was nice to look like people again.
Not only that, but the drowsy feeling had finally left him after stepping into the water. Sleep and washing up had done miracles for his well-being.
After the blood was gone and he felt somewhat clean again, he turned towards the beach. That was when he froze. There was someone over by his things. He narrowed his eyes, but could not distinguish who it was. He was too far out.
He was angry with himself. How could he have been so careless!? He'd left everything behind on the beach. Weapons, clothes... Even his goddamn pens. It was all in this persons hands now. He began approaching them, slowly.
Not only that, but the drowsy feeling had finally left him after stepping into the water. Sleep and washing up had done miracles for his well-being.
After the blood was gone and he felt somewhat clean again, he turned towards the beach. That was when he froze. There was someone over by his things. He narrowed his eyes, but could not distinguish who it was. He was too far out.
He was angry with himself. How could he have been so careless!? He'd left everything behind on the beach. Weapons, clothes... Even his goddamn pens. It was all in this persons hands now. He began approaching them, slowly.
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A red and white checkered shirt was atop the pile. She picked it up to examine it, finding a pair of black jeans underneath.
Wait.
Huge bloodstains on the shirt. Not like drops, it looked like this had blood poured on it. She dropped the shirt, realizing who's blood it was covered in. It was soaked with the same blood her shirt was soaked in. Rage boiled up, she kicked the pile and turned back towards the water. Naked boy was on his way back now. Her hands were trembling, it hurt how tightly her fists were balled.
"YOU!"
Wait.
Huge bloodstains on the shirt. Not like drops, it looked like this had blood poured on it. She dropped the shirt, realizing who's blood it was covered in. It was soaked with the same blood her shirt was soaked in. Rage boiled up, she kicked the pile and turned back towards the water. Naked boy was on his way back now. Her hands were trembling, it hurt how tightly her fists were balled.
"YOU!"
Fuck.
FUCK.
FUCK FUCK FUCK.
He could clearly see who it was now. It was a face he recognized. How could he not? Two days ago, he'd almost choked the life out of it over a backpack. Two days ago, he'd heard her panicked screams as he'd "torn Matt Masters a new windpipe". Two days ago, he'd left her and Leona, completely sure he'd never see either of them ever again.
And yet, here she was. In the way of his weapons. Cassidy. Fucking. Kant.
He didn't manage to say anything but a meager:
"Oh... shit."
FUCK.
FUCK FUCK FUCK.
He could clearly see who it was now. It was a face he recognized. How could he not? Two days ago, he'd almost choked the life out of it over a backpack. Two days ago, he'd heard her panicked screams as he'd "torn Matt Masters a new windpipe". Two days ago, he'd left her and Leona, completely sure he'd never see either of them ever again.
And yet, here she was. In the way of his weapons. Cassidy. Fucking. Kant.
He didn't manage to say anything but a meager:
"Oh... shit."
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She glared at the naked buffoon, wishing she still had the sword. She'd charge the shivering scum where he stood and cut his dick clean off. He cursed and stood there stupidly.
Cassidy looked back down at the pile. There was some kind of power tool caked in blood. She dropped her boots and her own bag, standing triumphantly his possessions. She opened and closed her hands, taking deep, slow breaths. She closed her eyes and tried to calm down. Killing this slimy, cowardly, pathetic, scared, helpless, human waste that was Travis Webster would not accomplish anything. There was nothing to be gained except to indulge in watching him die.
"You." She repeated herself. She could really say whatever she wanted, at this point. She could take all his stuff and throw it in the ocean. See how he liked having everything taken away. "I'm not going to kill you." She said the words slowly, just in case she decided to change her mind at any point. She picked his shirt up and opened it up again. Still covered in Matt's blood. Same as her clothes, and same as much of her body.
"I'm not a part of this game, I just want to go home."
She threw the garment at his feet in disgust.
"You're not going to kill me either. I'm not a threat to you, I just want to leave."
She picked up the boxers with a pinch, holding it with an outstretched arm away from herself before dropping it right in front of her. Her bare foot came down on top and twisted it into the cold sand. Once she was sure they were sandy enough, she used her foot to flick them forward. Picking up his jeans now, a metallic glimmer caught her eye before landing in the sand. She picked up the scalpel and swung the jeans over her shoulder.
"These are mine now."
She stared hard at him. She'd never been so serious in her entire life. Even if she was being overly bitchy, she was easily, easily entitled to that.
"Get me off this island, or protect me until rescue comes, and you can have them back."
Cassidy looked back down at the pile. There was some kind of power tool caked in blood. She dropped her boots and her own bag, standing triumphantly his possessions. She opened and closed her hands, taking deep, slow breaths. She closed her eyes and tried to calm down. Killing this slimy, cowardly, pathetic, scared, helpless, human waste that was Travis Webster would not accomplish anything. There was nothing to be gained except to indulge in watching him die.
"You." She repeated herself. She could really say whatever she wanted, at this point. She could take all his stuff and throw it in the ocean. See how he liked having everything taken away. "I'm not going to kill you." She said the words slowly, just in case she decided to change her mind at any point. She picked his shirt up and opened it up again. Still covered in Matt's blood. Same as her clothes, and same as much of her body.
"I'm not a part of this game, I just want to go home."
She threw the garment at his feet in disgust.
"You're not going to kill me either. I'm not a threat to you, I just want to leave."
She picked up the boxers with a pinch, holding it with an outstretched arm away from herself before dropping it right in front of her. Her bare foot came down on top and twisted it into the cold sand. Once she was sure they were sandy enough, she used her foot to flick them forward. Picking up his jeans now, a metallic glimmer caught her eye before landing in the sand. She picked up the scalpel and swung the jeans over her shoulder.
"These are mine now."
She stared hard at him. She'd never been so serious in her entire life. Even if she was being overly bitchy, she was easily, easily entitled to that.
"Get me off this island, or protect me until rescue comes, and you can have them back."
He wasn't sure what to say.
"W-what?"
Get her off the island? Rescue? Was she not paying attention? There was only one way to get alive off this fucking rock, and that was by doing the same thing he'd been doing. Killing. Fighting. Surviving.
"Are you insane?"
What the hell was going on? He'd killed her boyfriend, so now... she put her life into his hands? It didn't make sense.
He observed the situation carefully. He couldn't really charge at her, now could he? She had his clothes and his weapons, and he was completely naked. She was unharmed, he had cuts all over his hands, bruises all over his body, and a wounded arm.
"Like I told Naomi on the first day.... There is no "other" way off this island. There is no rescue. The only way to get home alive is the play the game."
He sat down in the sand and pointed at the nearest camera.
"Their game."
He ruffled his wet hair and looked at her coldly.
"Now, give me my fucking pants, will you?"
"W-what?"
Get her off the island? Rescue? Was she not paying attention? There was only one way to get alive off this fucking rock, and that was by doing the same thing he'd been doing. Killing. Fighting. Surviving.
"Are you insane?"
What the hell was going on? He'd killed her boyfriend, so now... she put her life into his hands? It didn't make sense.
He observed the situation carefully. He couldn't really charge at her, now could he? She had his clothes and his weapons, and he was completely naked. She was unharmed, he had cuts all over his hands, bruises all over his body, and a wounded arm.
"Like I told Naomi on the first day.... There is no "other" way off this island. There is no rescue. The only way to get home alive is the play the game."
He sat down in the sand and pointed at the nearest camera.
"Their game."
He ruffled his wet hair and looked at her coldly.
"Now, give me my fucking pants, will you?"
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"GIVE ME MY FUCKING BOYFRIEND BACK!"
She bared her teeth, breathing harder now. Her eyes ached, begging her not to start crying again. She turned her head to the side and pouted mockingly.
"WILL YOU?"
She tore the pants off her shoulder in rage and threw them down right in front of her. Going down on one knee, she raised the scalpel and started stabbing at the jeans.
"I will be FUH-KING damned if I give Travis Webster back his fucking pants back!"
She switched from stabbing to slicing, hacking away at one of the pant legs. The small blade struggled against the tough denim, but cuts and tears were slowly developing. She started on the other leg, hopefully Travis was into black, skinny jorts. She sat back in the sand, he wasn't coming near her. His only options were to stand there or to run.
"Their rules say that I kill you right now." She looked him hard in the eye, "Naked on the beach, left to rot. That what you want? You want me to play?" She put the scalpel in her mouth, tore the bottom of the pant leg off and threw it at him.
She bared her teeth, breathing harder now. Her eyes ached, begging her not to start crying again. She turned her head to the side and pouted mockingly.
"WILL YOU?"
She tore the pants off her shoulder in rage and threw them down right in front of her. Going down on one knee, she raised the scalpel and started stabbing at the jeans.
"I will be FUH-KING damned if I give Travis Webster back his fucking pants back!"
She switched from stabbing to slicing, hacking away at one of the pant legs. The small blade struggled against the tough denim, but cuts and tears were slowly developing. She started on the other leg, hopefully Travis was into black, skinny jorts. She sat back in the sand, he wasn't coming near her. His only options were to stand there or to run.
"Their rules say that I kill you right now." She looked him hard in the eye, "Naked on the beach, left to rot. That what you want? You want me to play?" She put the scalpel in her mouth, tore the bottom of the pant leg off and threw it at him.
Clearly, she had gone insane. She'd begun stabbing his pants, right in front of him. If it wasn't such a serious situation, he might've laughed. But not now. He needed to calm her down, or she might actually make good on her threats.
As for the pants... No matter. He still had both his and Edgar's spares in the backpacks.
... The backpacks that Cassidy was blocking. With a scalpel in her hand.
"A-Alright... Calm down."
He looked down in the sand. Only one way out of this one.
"Look... I'm sorry for killing Matt. I was fucking desperate and greedy. I don't know what I was thinking."
There was no point in painting an even bigger target on himself, or take more unnecessary damage.
"If I could take it back... I would."
As for the pants... No matter. He still had both his and Edgar's spares in the backpacks.
... The backpacks that Cassidy was blocking. With a scalpel in her hand.
"A-Alright... Calm down."
He looked down in the sand. Only one way out of this one.
"Look... I'm sorry for killing Matt. I was fucking desperate and greedy. I don't know what I was thinking."
There was no point in painting an even bigger target on himself, or take more unnecessary damage.
"If I could take it back... I would."
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She quit destroying the pants and rolled her eyes, the apology fall flat on it's face. This wasn't about forgiveness, this was about protection and maybe maybe a first step towards forgetting. She'd decide that on the way home.
"Well you can't. I would to, but he's dead now. Gone."
She grabbed the bottom of Matt's old white shirt, presenting the blood all over it.
"What you can do is help me get the hell out of here."
She threw him the remnants of the pants, both cut messily above the knee. She stood up and folded her arms over her chest.
"I don't care if you don't believe in rescue. I don't believe in playing this game. I'm no threat to you, but we'll be safer looking out for each other."
She pursed her lips and drummed her fingers on her thigh anxiously.
"And if that's not a good enough reason, how about 'you owe me.'"
"Well you can't. I would to, but he's dead now. Gone."
She grabbed the bottom of Matt's old white shirt, presenting the blood all over it.
"What you can do is help me get the hell out of here."
She threw him the remnants of the pants, both cut messily above the knee. She stood up and folded her arms over her chest.
"I don't care if you don't believe in rescue. I don't believe in playing this game. I'm no threat to you, but we'll be safer looking out for each other."
She pursed her lips and drummed her fingers on her thigh anxiously.
"And if that's not a good enough reason, how about 'you owe me.'"
He still wasn't sure how to react to this girl. She was obviously completely insane, trusting her boyfriend's killer in this fashion. However, she didn't seem like much of a threat either. If she was going to attack him, she already would have. Should he just charge her? Attack while her guard was down?
"Travis Webster finally completed his previously started double homicide, strangling the life out of poor innocent defenseless Cassidy Kant."
Yeah, that would be rich. Another kill in his name, more people hating him, and less chance of ever getting out of a situation without getting covered in blood, either from himself or his assailant.
No... There was no point in making himself out to be an even bigger target just yet. If she wasn't a threat and she didn't have anything of value, there was no point in killing her. And she even wanted to team up?
To be fair, it might not be a bad idea. It would be a nice change from the usual lone wolf routine he'd been playing at for the past few days, and it would make it easier to carry all his stuff around. He let out an exasperated sigh.
"Fine. You can tag along, I guess."
He couldn't trust her, of course. Nobody on this island was to be trusted. He looked down at the destroyed pants and shook his head in disbelief.
"Throw me one of the backpacks. I'm not going to walk around wearing these stupid things."
"Travis Webster finally completed his previously started double homicide, strangling the life out of poor innocent defenseless Cassidy Kant."
Yeah, that would be rich. Another kill in his name, more people hating him, and less chance of ever getting out of a situation without getting covered in blood, either from himself or his assailant.
No... There was no point in making himself out to be an even bigger target just yet. If she wasn't a threat and she didn't have anything of value, there was no point in killing her. And she even wanted to team up?
To be fair, it might not be a bad idea. It would be a nice change from the usual lone wolf routine he'd been playing at for the past few days, and it would make it easier to carry all his stuff around. He let out an exasperated sigh.
"Fine. You can tag along, I guess."
He couldn't trust her, of course. Nobody on this island was to be trusted. He looked down at the destroyed pants and shook his head in disbelief.
"Throw me one of the backpacks. I'm not going to walk around wearing these stupid things."
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That sounded like an agreement.
She wordlessly grabbed the bigger looking bag and swung it back before hurling it towards him, then went straight for the other one. She needed a change of clothes, too. And food. And a water. a lot of water. She found bread, water, and a plain white shirt. She peel off the gross one she wore now, flipping it over her head. She quickly pulled the fresh cloth over herself, before Travis could get a glimpse. A clean pair of boxers made for shorts. Her entire right arm was still stained red with blood, along with the outside of her leg.
She stood back up, clenching the dirty shirt in her non-scalpel hand. She stared at the sand for a few seconds before kneeling back down. The bag unzipped again and the horrible garment was stuffed inside. She zipped the bag shut quickly and stood back up to face Travis.
"Alright, let's get moving."
She swung the second bag over her own shoulder and started forward. Keeping the ocean to her left and an eye on the horizon. She could see the corner of the shopping center she gone with Garret to on the first day. Cassidy kept a steady pace and walked with conviction, Travis had agreed to stay with her, and she had half of his supplies now. A strained alliance, but having him on her side was far better than being alone. Even if weren't armed to the teeth, Travis's repeat killer reputation and hedge trimmers would serve as enough bluff.
You were better off being on non-violent terms with somebody like Travis Webster.
((Cassidy Kant to be continued in Law and Instinct))
She wordlessly grabbed the bigger looking bag and swung it back before hurling it towards him, then went straight for the other one. She needed a change of clothes, too. And food. And a water. a lot of water. She found bread, water, and a plain white shirt. She peel off the gross one she wore now, flipping it over her head. She quickly pulled the fresh cloth over herself, before Travis could get a glimpse. A clean pair of boxers made for shorts. Her entire right arm was still stained red with blood, along with the outside of her leg.
She stood back up, clenching the dirty shirt in her non-scalpel hand. She stared at the sand for a few seconds before kneeling back down. The bag unzipped again and the horrible garment was stuffed inside. She zipped the bag shut quickly and stood back up to face Travis.
"Alright, let's get moving."
She swung the second bag over her own shoulder and started forward. Keeping the ocean to her left and an eye on the horizon. She could see the corner of the shopping center she gone with Garret to on the first day. Cassidy kept a steady pace and walked with conviction, Travis had agreed to stay with her, and she had half of his supplies now. A strained alliance, but having him on her side was far better than being alone. Even if weren't armed to the teeth, Travis's repeat killer reputation and hedge trimmers would serve as enough bluff.
You were better off being on non-violent terms with somebody like Travis Webster.
((Cassidy Kant to be continued in Law and Instinct))
He finally got to put some clothes on. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a large hoodie. The only thing he didn't have a spare pair of were shoes, so he had to yet again wear his wet, sandy, bloodstained Converses. It was not a pleasant feeling to put them back on.
As Cassidy quickly got changed, he yet again considered attacking her. Ending her life quickly and continuing on. Again, he decided not to. It was simply unnecessary. He saw no benefits to doing so. He was a wounded, aching mess. There was no reason to get even more beat up, especially if said person wanted an alliance.
And... In all honesty, it was going to be nice to have someone to talk to. Cassidy would have to do for now. At least until he could find Joe.
He slowly stood up. He took a few steps. Despite being wounded, he felt much better as compared to the night before. Maybe another day of relative rest and he would be able to keep playing the game. It was necessary that he didn't tire himself out too much. Far too many kids were still alive. He needed to wait until the finals to go all out.
He grinned as he thought about all the people he still had to fight. That shithead Hansel wouldn't be forgiven for taking another gun. And Tyler wouldn't be forgiven for butting in and attacking him at the amusement park. Garrett wouldn't be forgiven for threatening him at the Ship Yard. And Cammy wouldn't be forgiven for pointing that fucking crossbow at him. His wound ached as he thought about the weapon.
No... He was still the same monster who'd ripped Edgar to pieces the night before, but his energy was finite. He needed to save his strength.
"Alright, coming!"
For the first time on the Island, he had an ally. He wasn't even sure what he was going to do with her eventually, but for now, staying on her good side was necessary if he was to make any semblance of a recovery.
[Travis Webster continued in Law and Instinct]
As Cassidy quickly got changed, he yet again considered attacking her. Ending her life quickly and continuing on. Again, he decided not to. It was simply unnecessary. He saw no benefits to doing so. He was a wounded, aching mess. There was no reason to get even more beat up, especially if said person wanted an alliance.
And... In all honesty, it was going to be nice to have someone to talk to. Cassidy would have to do for now. At least until he could find Joe.
He slowly stood up. He took a few steps. Despite being wounded, he felt much better as compared to the night before. Maybe another day of relative rest and he would be able to keep playing the game. It was necessary that he didn't tire himself out too much. Far too many kids were still alive. He needed to wait until the finals to go all out.
He grinned as he thought about all the people he still had to fight. That shithead Hansel wouldn't be forgiven for taking another gun. And Tyler wouldn't be forgiven for butting in and attacking him at the amusement park. Garrett wouldn't be forgiven for threatening him at the Ship Yard. And Cammy wouldn't be forgiven for pointing that fucking crossbow at him. His wound ached as he thought about the weapon.
No... He was still the same monster who'd ripped Edgar to pieces the night before, but his energy was finite. He needed to save his strength.
"Alright, coming!"
For the first time on the Island, he had an ally. He wasn't even sure what he was going to do with her eventually, but for now, staying on her good side was necessary if he was to make any semblance of a recovery.
[Travis Webster continued in Law and Instinct]