Wendy House

[RC~]

"Don't," Przemek started. "I already have blood on my hands."

There, he said it. He acknowledged it, didn't ignore it.

"You have not sinned yet. If we catch Aracelis, let me..."

Pull the trigger?

"...do the deed."

[Dr Adjective]

For a while, Bethany sat with her bread and her thoughts. She’d taken quite a leap in making the suggestion, and wasn’t sure what she’d expected in response. So thought was required.

She’d just offered to maim someone in revenge, essentially. But like she’d said, there was no justice but what they made for themselves on the island. Maybe she couldn’t end the whole thing, but putting a stop to someone who had so readily embraced the violence was at least something. She could ensure Aracelis didn’t go on to victory, for all that was worth. Maybe it’d mean someone better ended up surviving.

Maybe it’d mean Beth ended up going home.

“Even if that were true,” she began, softly, but still rather abruptly.

“You can’t see. And even if I deliver her to you, I’m still complicit. Might as well own it.”

And in the end, she would need it. Having a justification to kill for the first time would make it infinitely easier, and it seemed to be the common sentiment from any veteran she’d heard speak: the first time is the hardest, and then it gets easier.

“Anyway. Is it truly a sin to put a stop to a dangerous person? To protect others from her?”

[RC~]

„I guess not.“

Wouldn‘t they help others by stopping Aracelis, who is known to be a danger? Maybe if they stopped everyone who was dangerous, they could get enough time to get rescued.

„What about other dangerous people? How should we treat them? The killers.“

There was no doubt about it that some have already killed.

„We cannot trust them, can we?“

[Dr Adjective]

"It wouldn't really be justice if I were only to target people who've hurt us."

And yet, the fire only burned to get even with Aracelis. Though in fairness, as far as Bethany knew, nobody else had started trying to kill each other yet. They surely had, but until the next morning, she wouldn't know for certain.

Beth stood after that, picking up the ski pole she'd come to see as both walking stick and makeshift weapon. It had failed before, but she had faith it could be put to good use as a spear if she tried once more with feeling. She jabbed the point of it gently into the palm of her free hand, getting a feel for the pointy end: not actually that sharp, but with sufficient force and intent, just being pointy and solid would be enough.

"Though, if you'll pardon a strange question: why do you trust me?"

[RC~]

"I have to, I guess."

Well, why her? Why didn't he trust Ethan when he tried to help him?

"Plus, I've known you since...man, I don't know how many years it's been since I joined WAP."

[Dr Adjective]

Despite herself and the situation, Bethany let out a small, snorting laugh. To think that until so very recently, one of the bigger looming problems in her life had been the unfortunate name of the school's Christian club.

"I suppose if I were going to hurt or steal from you, I would've done it by now, wouldn't I?"

It stood to reason. Once they'd lost sight of Ty, it would've been a simple matter to trip the boy up, take his things, leave him to his fate. But the thought to do so hadn't actually occurred to her as she was shepherding him down the mountain. Why? Bethany had come to see Przemek as her responsibility, she supposed. It made her feel valued, virtuous, and not to mention a sense of control. So was it selfish? Maybe. A line of thought for another time. In the mean time, she busied herself tidying away the provisions she'd taken from both of their bags, and went to set both of them down on one of the conveyors where they'd be more at arm-level. That was when she noticed how comparatively heavy Przemyslaw's bag was.

"What on Earth are you keeping in here?" she asked, not exactly expecting an answer, as she hefted the S072 bag up to sit alongside her own.

Curiosity, of course, drove her to find out for herself, and the sounds of rummaging soon filled the space with echoes.

[RC~]

Przemek wasn't even sure if he wanted to know what he had gotten as a weapon. It was not like it would be of any use for him now anyway, except if he'd been assigned a free trip to the hospital, which he doubted.

This was beyond frustrating. He felt the injustice.

He noticed where Bethany was unpacking his pack and had enough spatial awareness to not go in that direction. Instead he went the other way until he reached a wall, both hands touching it.

Then, he imagined Aracelis was in front of him, kicking and punching against the wall in frustration.

[Dr Adjective]

No wonder if had been so heavy.

After moving the other contents out of the way, and indeed finally getting a decent sense for the full extent of the default kit the two of them had to work with, Bethany produced a pickaxe from the duffel bag. That explained the slightly weird bulges she'd noticed but not paid much mind to when Przemek had been carrying it around, the thing just barely fit in there. Thing was weighty, a little unwieldy, but then again it wasn't designed to be agile. Just to swing overhead and smash stuff, right?

Stepping back, Bethany got a sense for the tool, felt out the weight and the balance in one hand, then in two. Gave it a gentle swing, horizontal, from the hip. Lifted it overhead with some difficulty, visualised bringing the pointy end down on the unsuspecting head of Aracelis Fuentes. In her mind it was quick, it was clean. Even with the reality of Przemyslaw's injuries to refer to, in Bethany's mind the blade sank in with only token resistance, the wound wasn't really visible, there was only blood, no bone or anything under it. She visualised Hollywood violence. Picturing anything close to the real version would've made it harder to stay committed to the attempt.

On the whole though, it felt good. It felt empowering.

It was around about the time that she went to set the pickaxe down next to the twin bags that she heard the impacts.

"What are you doing?"

[RC~]

„I don‘t know.“

Still with Aracelis in his inner vision, he had a sparring match against her like when he was a kid when he watched Muhammad Ali.

The wall was Aracelis and Przemek went wilder with the kicks until he lost balance and fell backwards, landing on the floor, completely disoriented.

[Dr Adjective]

She’d been able to laugh at the name of WAP, more because of the absurdity that it had still bothered her for a moment, but looking at Przemek in the floor elicited no humour for Bethany. Her eyes moved from his prone form to the pickaxe he’d been assigned.

So helpless.

It would be so easy.

He needed her. Without Bethany he’d be lost, so vulnerable to being robbed, killed, anything a desperate predator or a vicious teen with a grudge could possibly want to inflict on him.

She could visualise it, bringing the pointed end down on his head, or the adze to his chest. Even with her meagre strength, that’d surely be fatal.

Then she replaced him with that Cuban bitch in her mind. Pictured the bat, still wet and red from some recent murder attempt, dropped by her side. Beth would have to end it quick, before Aracelis got back up and bludgeoned her next. It would only be self-preservation, really.

She could do it.

She’d have to.

But in the real world, her Lost Boy was lying flat on his back. Or her Wendy? She’d lost track of the metaphor. Regardless, she crouched down and clasped one of his hands in hers.

“Let me help.”

[RC~]

Przemek touched the hand but before he pulled himself up, he let go of it.

„I think I just need some rest.“

Yeah, maybe he should sleep. Was it sleeping time already? Was it dark outside?

He flipped to his side and turned his hands into a pillow on which he laid his head upon.

[Dr Adjective]

"Probably. You have had quite a day."

Not like Beth wasn't also quite worn out from the long walk, though being able to see where she was going had presumably made it less of a strain for her. Even so, the rejection took the wind out of her proverbial sails just a bit, put an abrupt end to her ideation of herself as heroic warrior. Because she was indeed also a teenage girl who was hungry, tired, and trying very hard to convince herself she was going to easily transition into someone able to kill dispassionately, several times over. It wasn't going to be that easy, but she had to believe it could be. If Bethany gave in to despair, she might as well just fall on the pickaxe herself and get it over with.

"We should find somewhere less open. I can't keep watch all night."

[RC~]

Grhh. So he had to stand up? Alright.

He pushed himself from the ground and spoke into the direction of Bethany, barely missing her though for some inches.

„What about you? You need some sleep too. We should probably find a third person that we could trust so that you can also feel protected while sleeping.“

Przemek wasn‘t at the best conditions to do the night shift, no.

[Dr Adjective]

"Whom do you propose? And from where?"

Bethany folded her arms and leaned back against the conveyor she'd put most of the duo's possessions on. A useless instinct, being that Przemek couldn't read her body language any more, but she couldn't help doing it. She then straightened up, pacing around to get somewhat more of a look at the rest of the building. Not really anywhere ideal to stay. Upstairs might've been an option: anyone coming up would be hard pressed not to make a lot of noise on the metal walkways, but then the cold air would become more of a problem instead.

"I doubt we can trust anyone else. I think we take our chances here, or try the mine."

[RC~]

„What about the others from Worship and Prayer? They‘re pretty reliable. You know, Karin, Juanita, Dave, Mal. Did Soo-bin go to the trip? I think Corbin‘s here, too.“

See? There were a lot of people they could trust.

„You know, there‘s a Juanita for every Aracelis out here, I think. There‘s no need to be pessimistic.“