The Domesday Book

[Dr Adjective]

Despite all that calculation though, Evie kept a healthy distance to begin with. She stayed standing, about as close to arm’s length as she could manage with either newcomer. Enough room to fight or to flee, whichever seemed most necessary, if it came to that.

“Yeah, it’s nice to see some friendly faces.” Evie added. Her smile was more sarcastic that joyful, on that one.

She drifted closer to the seated Lara. Consciously, Evie didn’t expect the big girl to be a threat: she was travelling with a friend and neither had killed anyone yet, plus… it was Lara, Evie didn’t want to believe the big girl would actually hurt her. But her lizard brain insisted nonetheless that she stay vigilant, keep her eyes open for aggression or concealed weapons. So she complied.

“Better than getting shishkebab’d, that’s for sure. What about you two? Besides surviving?”

[midnight_twelve]

Chloé took a deep breath. Evie had asked what they’d been up to; it was time to explain her plan. The subject had come up sooner than she wanted, she’d have liked a little more time to tailor a bespoke pitch, but she supposed there wasn’t much room for small talk here. The three girls were still stood quite far apart, Lara and Evie in particular, so her head turned as she talked, switching eye contact between them.

“I’ve been busy. I’m putting together a group and we’ve set up base in the town.”
That was to Claire and Evie. Lara knew that much already.

“Marshall, Jess and I split up to look for new members, and that’s when I found you, Lara.”
That went to Lara, of course. Let her know where she had fit in.

“You guys should join too! You’re not safe just the two of you.”
Her attention was back on Claire and Evie for that.

“We can protect you. I have a gun, and Lara is really strong.”
She paid that compliment to the girl’s face.

“Plus, we have extra supplies, I’ve prepared potable water, and I know a bit of first aid.”
Chloé looked to each of the girls in turn. She had plenty more arguments to make, but she stopped there for now, gave them a chance to ask questions.

[Salic]

Ah. The class president was going on a recruiting spree. Another small glimmer of clarity came to her mind. According to Chloé, Marshall and Jess were a group, and for whatever reason, they had split up. What was the point of grouping up, then? If any of this was even factual, then their brilliant plan of separating got one of them killed.

Did they split up in order to cover more ground and find more people? That seemed foolish. There were well over one hundred students on the trip. Even if they stayed together as one unit, they'd almost certainly find at least a few people. Besides, wouldn't actually staying together as a group be more convincing to potential members than just one emissary going it alone to drag people back to God knows where?

Of course, Lara had followed Chloé when she'd appealed to her sense of logic, which was admittedly an effective tactic. Even still, she had been exceedingly tired at the time Chloé found her. Perhaps the thought of a warm bed and safe sleep overruled her current argument with herself.

Instead of speaking up, her eyes instead drifted over everyone in the room. Chloé. Evie. Claire. Chloé again.

Chloé's bag.

Lara was seriously wondering whether or not to leave this whole charade as soon as they were booted out of this infirmary.

[Dogs231]

A group of three. But, as Claire knew, one of those names didn't quite fit: Jess Kawazoe—as far as she knew, the only classmate anyone had called 'Jess'—was dead already, of hypothermia, no less, on an island that was only as cold as their home was. It was hard to hide the part of her that wanted to look askance at the idea.

Claire's suspicion was only piqued further when Chloé mentioned the gun. Back home, those had already carried a connotation of danger—she had, after all, grown up in the age of mass shooters. Aside from that, they were curious, of historical or literary interest, something she would read about or see on a screen and nothing more.

Distrust was rational, but paranoia was illogical. Claire felt like she was walking on a tightrope, toeing the line between the two. Her eyes flitted between their new companions, guard up, raised like a shield. She was ready. If one of them moved to strike, she would be the first to respond—and that response would be decisive.

[Dr Adjective]

So it all sounded good. Really good, in fact.

“That does sound like a plan,”

Supplies, a gun, an attractive buff lady’s protection, the comfort and safety of several friends apparently… yet neither Claire nor even Lara looked all too convinced? Too good, maybe? Maybe the devil was in the details?

Evie knew a Marshall. Marshall West. The short king from the body improvement club. Good guy. She knew more than one Jess. Kawazoe? Romero? Stark? Probably not the latter one, that was Jezzie with Zs, and well, she fucking murdered Steve. Probably not the former either, since she’d been mentioned as also dead that very morning. So Jessica Romero then? But hadn’t she shot someone too?

Yeah. That was worth interrogating. Interrogating whilst “casually” moving herself closer to Chloé. If she had a gun, being further away could only be a disadvantage. Positioning was a lesson she’d learned the hard way two mornings prior.

“I know Marshall, but uh, which Jess?”

Like Lara, Evie’s eyes were drawn inexorably to Chloé’s bag. Grouping up or not, the allure of a gun to protect herself with was certainly strong. Between that, their walkie-talkies, and Claire’s night vision goggles, the duo would be pretty hard to best. In the interests of self-defence, of course.

Of course…

[midnight_twelve]

All three of them listened attentively to what she had to say. Neither Claire nor Lara spoke. Chloé was expecting them to try and poke holes in her plans, the way even Marshall had, but they just studied her, deep in thought. They were seriously considering it, she realised. She was succeeding where she’d failed the morning before.

It was Evie who broke the silence. ‘That does sound like a plan’, the girl admitted. Chloé smiled at her encouragingly, perhaps pleadingly. Surely with Evie’s support, Claire’s would follow, and Lara’s too, if her suspicion about the latter’s infatuation was correct. For a moment, Chloé thought she had Evie convinced already, but then she asked which Jess she’d meant. Chloé nodded sadly.

“Kawazoe. Kai was supposed to protect her, but he abandoned us to run off after Kitty. She was so frail… I never should have let her go off alone, but we were spread so thin. That’s why we need more numbers.”

That was all true, the way she saw it. The regret clear in her tone of voice was just as truthful. She found herself repeating what she’d said to Lara that morning, what she’d been repeating to her subconscious ever since.

“I won’t let that happen again.”

[Salic]

"I have a question," Lara piped up. "Why did you split off in the first place?"

The more she thought about it, the less Lara was able to hold her tongue. It was fairly illogical for them to split up. She'd already thought about this already, but now it had been rolling around long enough in her mind that she could not help but question the decision aloud. If she was going to trust Chloé, a trust which was wearing out by the second, she would need to know how logical and capable their class president was at making important decisions. Currently, it was not looking particularly great.

"If you say that it was to look for people, then it was not an especially smart decision, considering you would have almost certainly run into other people to build the group up on the first or second days."

[Dogs231]

Claire knew the answer before Evie had asked the question. Jess Kawazoe—'DJ JAZZY JESS,' as some preferred—was the only one who ever went by that version of the name. What was that quote? "Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth." Well, there it was.

The truth. Everything was laid bare, and the peace had gone to bits instantly. The skeletons had stood up and walked right out of the closet like Evie had rolled out the red carpet. Now, suspicion reigned. Even Lara, Chloé's companion, had begun to question their President's motives like this was an impeachment hearing.

If Claire had her way, she'd have considered taking the opportunity to cut and run. Then again, it would've been hard to run weighed down with lead—a risk she wasn't willing to take. One false move and this situation would turn from an argument to an altercation. Nothing good would come from that. So, instead, she looked at Chloé.

"What's your pitch, then?" she asked, a remorseless cold in her voice. "As in, why should we trust you?" The words were unrelenting. There was no room for hesitation. "The last person with a weapon we trusted, well, he's the one who dealt that wound. And, as far as I can tell, you're the most dangerous person in the room."

[Dr Adjective]

Despite everything, Evie still rather wanted to trust Chloé. Despite her soul searching’s conclusion that she should think and act for herself for once, she found herself easily swayed by the prevailing mood of suspicion from the other two girls. She didn’t want to help turn everybody against Chloé if she really did mean well, and she didn’t want to be the gullible idiot convinced to trust someone who’d gotten friends killed by negligence at best.

How appropriate then, that she’d positioned herself more-or-less between the other three.

Still, nobody had gone for a weapon yet. Evie didn’t like her odds in a brawl with Lara, but figured she could probably subdue Chloé should she start making unfriendly moves. So she stayed put, eyes still focused primarily on the class president - alternating between her face, her hands, and her bag. And she waited to hear what the other girl had to say for herself.

[midnight_twelve]

“It wasn’t my idea, Lara. My plan would have been to move in pairs and stick to the town, so we could call for reinforcements if we found trouble. We were supposed to regroup that afternoon.

“But there was an argument about Kitty, and Kai slapped Marshall and left. Like I said, I shouldn’t have let Jess go off on her own, but she was determined. Marshall thought he could track Kai down, and insisted he went alone. I couldn’t have kept up, you saw his footprints back at the town.”

No sooner than she had answered Lara, Claire was on her case. Chloé wheeled to face her. It was taking a lot not to get angry. Lara had basically questioned her intelligence, blaming her for a ‘not especially smart decision’, and now Claire was openly questioning her morality, comparing her to-

Chloé furrowed her brow. What wound? Someone had attacked them? She let Claire finish, eyes scanning over her and Evie both. If she’d realised one of them was injured, she’d have put more focus on the first aid part of her pitch. When Claire was done, Chloé met her gaze again, her own stare only slightly warmer.

“You’re right, Claire, I am the most dangerous person in the room. Probably one of the most dangerous people on the island, since hardly anyone seems to even have a proper weapon, let alone a gun.” Seriously: syringes, gas masks, umbrellas? It was a cruel joke. “If I wanted you dead, I needn’t have gotten so close.

“All I want is to help people. This is the only way to do that. It’s the best chance any of us have of survival, and it’s the only chance all of us have of survival.”

She didn’t outright mention escape, there were guaranteed to be cameras in this small building, but she let the implication hang there in the tense silence. She looked back at Evie, who had been quiet the longest. Maybe Chloé’s selfless care for the class at large was completely alien to these girls, maybe it wasn’t, but surely there was someone they cared about on this forsaken island.

[Salic]

Ah. So now Chloé let them in on the bigger picture, the grand goal she had in mind for assembling her group. She wanted everyone to live. Perhaps it was the weight of the class she carried on her shoulder as class president. Maybe it was something else entirely. Lara did not claim to know. However, she now knew that Chloé's plan was built entirely on one incredibly shaky and unstable pillar: naked idealism.

"So that was your plan this entire time, correct?" Lara hissed. "Get everyone together in a great circle and sing songs of peace until the terrorists inevitably detonate the collars?"

This whole plan, this whole group, was based entirely on bunk. There was no method to this newfound madness other than to make vague appeals to whatever seemed deficient in a person and then hope that they buy into the propaganda piece. It was a scam. That's all it ever was.

"I do hope you realize that in the previous seven versions of this hell, all but one person died on the godforsaken island they were trapped on. Do you really believe that you can change such a pattern that has been set in stone?"

God help her, Lara actually thought she would stay here. With... whatever this was. Maybe Micah's punches to her arms affected her mind instead. When Chloé found her, she had been tired, she had been injured, and she hadn't been thinking properly. That much was clear. Her addled mind had bought into whatever snake oil the class president was peddling. Just this morning, when Lara had bashfully blushed from Chloé's little wake up call. She was still hung up on the night's sleep. She had allowed emotion to control her thoughts. That would lead to nothing good. That would get her killed.

"What do you think you're building here? A little cult? One that sits there and does nothing until death inevitably comes?"

Lara stood up. She grabbed her bag.

"That is not something I will be a part of during my time here."

[Dogs231]

Claire sat and listened, silent, as Chloé gave her rebuttal. It was a fair argument, she supposed. Though she had no idea what the other girl's gun was, exactly—anything from a pistol to an assault rifle—it was accurate to say that she could've killed them without the need to so much as step into the room, were the right intent and motive there.

She remained silent, eyes stony and unmoving, as Lara proceeded to tear into the other girl's idea. The two of them weren't on the same page. Even with her scattered, fragmented knowledge about this game, though, she knew that the truth was contrary to what Lara claimed—in fact, it was the opposite. Across seven games, more than seven had emerged.

Claire crossed her arms. "You're wrong, Lara." It was the first sentence of outright confrontation she had said. "We've seen people get out of this game before. It happened when we were still young, but still, it happened." Once, for her writing, she had read pages about the attacks. There, she found the total, though the exact number escaped her.

The idea of an escape was tempting. But, in the end, it was choosing the gangplank over the gallows—all that was likely to change was the 'how' and the 'why' of death rather than the 'when' and 'where.' In the end, you were still dead, and, most likely, you'd die sooner rather than later. She imagined that their captors didn't take kindly to dissent.

[Dr Adjective]

Throughout the argument, the prevailing thought in Evie’s mind was a simple one: “but what’s your endgame?”

Gathering people together for what? To what end? To what ultimate purpose? In truth, Evie herself hadn’t figured out what her own endgame was. Her concerns had been a little too immediate for that, she’d been focused on staying alive ever since Alex had attempted to skewer her.

The implication, the “all” of us, seemed to be actually surviving. Like what, stalling until someone came to save them? Lara seemed to think otherwise. Claire contended that it’d happened before. Evie was pretty sure it had… like, ten years ago. Long enough back that their captors would’ve gotten a lot better at preventing it by now.

But still, part of her really wanted to believe. Part of believing involved remembering all the time she’d spent last night speaking to a camera: they probably weren’t intensively monitoring for even the most tangential reference to escape, but it made sense to maybe not discuss it out loud.

“I mean, they can see and hear everything right? So it’s probably not worth talking about.”

She tried to put just enough emphasis on the word talk to better suggest her double meaning, before moving on to the only other item sharing space with survival on her list of priorities.

“Um, by the way, who else did you have anyway?”

[midnight_twelve]

Claire seemed to receive Chloé’s response well enough, but the same could not be said of Lara. Chloé was still facing Claire when her rant began, and turning back to face her was difficult. It felt like betrayal again. This was someone Chloé had helped. Someone she’d started to trust.

Chloé considered correcting Lara, but Claire beat her to it. People had escaped, way more than had “won”. But Evie was the only one who seemed to realise the dangers of talking about that out loud. Chloé waited for a second with bated breath but nothing happened. If the terrorists were even watching, they chose not to blow anyone up just yet. Still, it was best not to tempt fate. Such plans could be discussed in whispers, and right now voices were being raised.

When Lara made to leave, Chloé moved quickly to put herself in between the girl and the door. She couldn’t let Lara go. She wasn’t going to let what happened to Jess happen again. But this was exactly what had happened, wasn’t it? She was Marshall and Lara was Kai and history was just going to keep repeating itself and people were just going to keep dying. Wide eyes looked up at Lara's. Chloé could feel the panic setting in as she made her last, frantic plea.

“Lara! LARA! Listen to me! You have no weapons, you’re hurt, if you leave here without someone to watch your back, you will die. What’s the point? What will you die for? When whoever kicked your, your ass already comes back to finish the job, what will your dying thoughts be? ‘At least I didn’t take a risk’? ‘At least I didn’t even try and make a difference’?”

[Salic]

Lara couldn't help but scoff at both Claire and Chloé. Escape? Really? Did either of them think that it was a remote possibility? Did they actually believe that some mystical archangel would vanquish the Arthro Taskforce from this Earth and deliver them to their homes? It was foolish. Ridiculous. If they earnestly believed something like that would happen, then they truly had no hope for staying alive.

"Hah! Escape? Really? That has yet to happen in over, what, a decade? Do you really believe what you are saying? Are you actually trying to convince yourself rather than me?"

In Chloé's last ditch effort to keep her here, Lara noticed the pattern she saw earlier: vague platitudes promising a non-concrete solution to whatever deficiencies she was suffering. It was almost as if she had déjà vu. The propaganda machine kept humming along, none the wiser that its target audience got wise.

"What will I die for? What differences will I make?" She wasn't quite sure whether or not she was hearing her class president correctly.

"If I die, then I will die for nothing, because there are no grand plans here other than being the last person. I will make no difference, because there are no differences other than the location and the people participating. The moment we came to this fucking frozen rock our death certificates were already stamped and filed away."

Sure, it was harsh, but the truth was always like that. Hard and uncompromising. It stopped for no one's delusions, no one's emotions. It tore through all layers until it reached the vulnerable core of the mind, and yet people still tried to avoid it, at the cost of their own lives. It made no sense.

"I will not stand idly by and pull the wool over my own eyes by pretending that everything will work out just fine in the end. I will not delude myself into believing that I have a realistic chance of making it back home again. Instead, I will take practical action and do what is necessary, as anyone intelligent should."

She was reaching her crescendo. Her creed was being formulated by each word that she spoke. She was building her own guide, building her path to survival with each passing moment. This time, however, she would make sure to follow it to the letter.

"Even if I am to die out there, I will have at least died knowing that I did all that I could. I will know that I died without foolishly hoping for some miracle to come and save me. I will not die surrounded by my own delusions. I will not let the terrorists twist and mangle my identity."

Her fists clenched, hard. The knuckles were whitening as the blood rushed elsewhere, her face growing more stony and stoic by the second.

"I will live, or I will die as myself."

That was it. The final piece of her manifesto. The last amendment, the coup de grâce of her monologue.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, class president, get out of my way."