((erika stieglitz continued from Madness in the Method))
Erika’s path through the rest of the Inner Circle was winding, as she evaded the few signatures that did appear on the collar radar’s screen. As she travelled, she clutched the small device in one hand and her pistol in the other. At least one corner of the Manor House was occupied, as she expected, and so was one of the Leadership Houses. There enough of them for Erika to feel safe in her decision to leave the so-called “Inner Circle” behind.
With no more than a dozen or so of her peers left on the island, it seemed to validate her instinct to head for the Cliffs, which should’ve been less populated. Moving around and away from the nauseatingly blood-soaked Gardens helped her spirits slightly, but did nothing to alleviate the persistent malaise that hounded her.
It was a little bit of everything. Malnutrition, lack of sleep, being off her medication, and more stress than she’d ever experienced before. Injuries she knew could’ve been infected, which worried her the most. Plus, the fact that they’d clearly been dropped in some tropical hellhole with none of the vaccinations that people might typically get travelling abroad. At no point in her time on the island had she been free of the presence of mosquitoes, save for when a rainstorm passed through.
Waiting out the rest of them never felt like an option, but it seemed like even less of one at this point. All of these maladies made it that much more difficult to turn away from the signatures on the collar radar, to resist the urge to try and accelerate an end to her time on the island. Each time was an exercise in reminding herself what kind of end she had in mind. It wasn’t dying of a fever in the middle of the night, but it also wasn’t fumbling an attack on one of the others and ending up unceremoniously shot in the face. Whatever ended up happening, she wanted to feel like she had some agency in it, even if her body seemed intent on rapidly depriving her of that small dignity.
So she headed for the Cliffside, trying to put most of her focus in avoiding the others, watching the radar, and keeping exhaustion and fatigue at bay. Anything to keep the thought that she was going there to die from taking root.
Something about setting a destination helped, and the location itself felt like a smart move. With the open air to her back, Erika knew she’d only have to worry about confrontations from the north. It was familiar ground, too; she’d hidden the Martini-Henry on a tree that had partially grown over the edge of the cliff. The sight of the ocean from up high was beautiful, and one of the few positive sights on the island that she could remember clearly.
I just need to make it there.
Erika stopped for a moment, looking back at the road behind her that led to the large houses and overgrown gardens of the Inner Circle. In the distance, she could only just make out the upper floor of the Manor House, which loomed over the whole area.
There was a flash through one of the windows, after which all of them quickly blew outward along with several large chunks of the building’s outer wall. Erika flinched at the sight, instinctively taking a step back as the sound of the explosion and shattered glass reached her ears. Smoke rose from the crater blown through the hole in the building. After a brief pause, Erika witnessed bright flashes within the haze, followed immediately by the distant sound of automatic gunfire.
A chill ran up Erika’s spine, her mind’s eye fixed on the mental image of the grenade launcher pointed towards her. She’d been right to leave Diego to his own devices; it sounded like he was wasting no time getting to work.
“Well, shit. Alright. Give ‘em hell, dude.”
She gave a mock salute with the hand clutching her pistol, before turning and pressing further up the road as quickly as she was able to. That same nagging voice within her pleaded to stay on the road, to wait to see who emerged victorious and to finish them. Once again, she ignored it.
Don’t be stupid. Let them fight.
Walking on the road was faster, but risky. There were a few spots where there was space outside of the radar’s range where she was still visible, and more than enough spots at either side to stage an ambush. It still seemed preferable to potentially tripping and falling over the dense forest at either side.
She reached a bend in the road, past the fork that led back to the Village. To nowhere, really, now that the area was off-limits. The relatively open ground still made her feel uneasy, and Erika couldn’t help but nervously check the collar radar one more time.
Like before, she pressed down on the power switch. The device came to life, briefly illuminating the radial distance markings for a moment before they disappeared. In place of what she’d come to expect, the entire screen went white, flickering a few times before shutting off.
“Fuck. No, no, no! God-fucking-damnit!”
Erika flipped the switch off, and then back on again. And again. And again. The same result came each time - the readout appeared, followed by white flash on the screen, and then nothing. She thought she could see a few dead pixels on the device, as well. Since she’d taken it off of Lucas’ body, she’d been careful to turn it off whenever it wasn’t in use; thinking that, at the very least, she’d be able to stretch whatever battery life it had as long as she needed to use it.
Didn’t occur to me that it’d just stop working out of nowhere.
She sighed, staring down at the screen as it flashed white once again. The air around her felt heavy, oppressive even. The long gravel road felt even more overexposed and open than it had before. The plastic case of the collar radar creaked in her hand as her grip on the device tightened.
Erika wanted to smash it. Standing, staring at the blank screen - it made her feel stupid, and weak. She shouldn’t have been relying on some tool of the terrorists instead of her own instincts. Maybe it was why she’d been feeling so indecisive, so complacent. It had been foolish to tie her survival to it as much as she had. She couldn’t trust it, or even the weapons she carried. She wanted to trust herself, and her instincts; they’d gotten her this far, at least.
Looking down, she could barely recognize the clothes she was wearing, given how thoroughly stained in blood and dirt they were. Her skin seemed wrong, paler than it should’ve been after two weeks in the hot sun. She was standing awkwardly, heavily favoring her right leg over the left.
All she told herself to trust in this place were her skills, her will to survive, and her body. What had come of sacrificing everything else was that all three had found ways to fail her, and to betray that trust. It was hard to look at herself and find anything left to put faith in.
I’m walking to the cliffs. I’m going to spend the night there. Make a stand there if I have to. There’s still time.
Erika tucked the collar radar into a pocket of her duffel bag, and then continued walking up the road.
If it’s still fucked by the time I get there, then I’ll pitch it off the cliff.
As she walked, she made a point to stick to the edge of the road, where gravel began to give way to the forest floor. She’d never walked a tightrope before, but it was hard to imagine anything else.
