If you want blood, I’ll give you some.

[Dr Adjective]

[Evie McKown doesn’t stop missing.]

She was, in a word, pissed.

All else being equal, perhaps Evie would feel smug. Gratified in a way, that she’d been right. “Technical difficulties” they called it, then moved right along with business as usual. Evie had been right, the moralising cowards had been wrong, and nobody was swooping in for the rescue. As if Danya and his goons wouldn’t have simply killed the lot of them out of spite if that had happened anyway. Further, she might’ve felt a sense of relief at hearing about two more major competitors for the crown biting the dust. She still was glad to know that neither Jezzie nor Kitty would be standing between her and victory, if a tad disappointed not to get to avenge Mitch or Steve by her own hand, but there was something missing.

Juanita had been no use in moving Kelsey’s remains outside, but at least she’d been able to help find one last empty grave to help show the girl what modicum of respect in death Evie could accomplish, given the circumstances.

But revenge. Speaking of revenge. Those so-called technical difficulties seemed to have kept Kelsey’s killer off of the broadcast. Evie had spent much of the night imagining creative ways to make them suffer as she had, and now she was denied the chance.

She made no effort to hide the scowl she wore as she lowered her late girlfriend into the ground. Evie intended to say a few words afterwards, she could fix her expression then. As before, a blanket from one of many spare first aid kits served where a coffin and a shovel to shift the earth was lacking. A handful of dense stones held the corners against the wind. It was all she had to offer. She hoped the gesture was enough.

The physical side of the work done, Evie looked to Juanita. They made an unlikely pair, but it made sense. Couldn’t be more than twenty alive any more, how many of them were wise enough to work together? Willing to gamble that a partnership could last until the very last two? She was willing to bet it was none, at least amongst those willing to go the distance in the first place. Teams of cowards didn’t frighten her much.

But right now? Her partnership was more one of companionship.

“I… feel like I should say something. But I don’t know what.”

[Gundham]

Juanita grimaced. "I dunno," she said.

((Juanita Reid continued from In From The Cold))

She hadn't known Kelsey before this. Heck, she barely knew Evie, despite the trust bond between them. She hadn't been there when Kelsey died, and hadn't even been strong enough to help drag her out here to her final resting place. She was an intruder on this scene, and now she was being asked for her input.

It wasn't a new feeling. She felt that way at every funeral. Or every "celebrations of life," as some people in religious circles liked to say. She hadn't been to one for anybody that she'd known well, or had particularly cared about, which meant that she usually didn't pay attention to the droning speeches. She usually spent the time counting down the minutes until she could get out of the stiff black dress her mother forced her to wear and trying not to be jostled by her brothers while they slumped and slouched and poorly hid their boredom.

But it was just her and Evie now. No hymns or prayers, no slideshow of pictures set to classical music. No old relatives she'd never met before and wouldn't meet again until the next funeral. And hey, no black dress this time. Just stolen ill-fitting clothing she'd stolen from boys she'd left dead in the snow. Somehow that wasn't any less uncomfortable. Yeah, all the trappings of a funeral were absent here. Just the essentials - a body and a grave and someone to mourn. But that wasn't enough. There had to be at least one ingredient. There had to be the speech.

Funerals weren't about the dead. They were about the living. They were about gathering the grief-stricken, and paying your respects to the life that they'd lived. They were worth showing up for, because it wasn't right for someone to slip out of this life unnoticed. If their life didn't mean anything, then how would you know that yours did?

"I guess... You know what? Tell her whatever you'd want to tell her if she was getting on a ship to go somewhere else, and you didn't know when you'd ever see her again."

She couldn't remember where she'd heard that concept. Some celebration of life or other. Religious folks liked to have a "bon voyage" attitude about death, like the deceased was retiring and moving to Heaven for a bit and the rest would all catch up later.

"And... I dunno. Tell her what you liked about her. Tell her what she meant to you."

Yeah. Meaning. The announcement this morning had deposited that word in her brain, and it wasn't going anywhere. The explosion hadn't changed anything. Ditto for her tears and her guilt. The ceasefire was a mirage, and the game was still on. People were still dying and still going to die. Which meant that even this brief ritual was risking both their lives. Juanita tightened her grip on the Cobray stock, and scanned their surroundings. Because she hadn't known Kelsey Brewer very well at all, but it was a safe bet that Kelsey wouldn't have wanted Evie to get killed in the middle of mourning her. And that, at least, Juanita could see to.

[Dr Adjective]

Evie racked her brain for memories of funerals. She'd been brought along to them before, but they always had a distant feeling. Family friends, distant relatives, nobody she really knew. To her moderate shame, she hadn't really paid attention; just dressed up nicely and looked appropriately forlorn. There had been speeches given by closer relatives, some photos shown, some music they'd liked and some hymns. That was about all she could muster. She could sing a song? No. Evie swiftly discarded that idea as, if nothing else, recklessly dangerous. Kelsey would have to be content with a brief, quiet send-off. She wouldn't want for Evie to get herself killed because she stuck her head over the proverbial parapet just to be sad.

The notion of music did give her an idea though. That song that'd been bouncing around in her head for days.

Trying to ignore the awkward presence of Juanita, that intrusion of the reality that she remained - as ever - in mortal peril at all times, Evie cleared her throat. Stared down into that hole in the earth, at the silvery sheet and the way it caught the pale half-light of the morning. After a few seconds, she spoke.

"I've... been wandering around in circles, pretending to be myself. It was only when I was with you that I felt like I didn't have to. I never felt more... me, than when we were together. More, I don't know. Sincere?"

Evie bit her lip. It felt wrong, standing here over a corpse, only able to make it about herself. Barely able to think of anything more than how how it was for her, as if another human being hadn't died in pain, and that wasn't the reason she was doing this.

"You're... you were... a good person. Better than I deserved. You deserved better than this. You'll be remembered as... as someone who made people's lives better."

She'd expected tears to come. Yet they didn't.

"I want to believe there's a better place for you now. I really do."

But Evie looked to the sky, and she felt nothing. She simply saw the uncaring sun and a plume of dark smoke rising over the mountaintops. Once upon a time she'd at least nominally believed in a God, but the island had done a thorough job disavowing her of the idea that a loving deity could possibly allow a world like hers. Still, she wanted to believe.

"Maybe I'll--"

[Gundham]

If the words had been less beautiful or the emotions less raw, then Juanita probably would have been looking at Evie while she spoke. But she was still watchful, still scanning for threats. Evie's words burned her anyway, almost as bad as John's condemnation or Teddie's anguish.

Kelsey deserved better. Did Juanita? Did Evie? Did either of them deserve any better than what they'd gotten? The Juanita who came to this island deserved better. But it was impossible to say the same for the person she was. And maybe this was who she'd been all along. Maybe she was always this, underneath it. Maybe the warlord, the killer, was all she'd ever been, and the only thing the island had done was strip away the pretense.

Someone... Fred, had said something similar. Maybe she should have listened to him back then, instead of answering him with a blade.

Kelsey would be remembered as someone who made people's lives better. Juanita wouldn't. Nor Evie. All three of them were tragedies, but Kelsey would be grieved for what she had been. Juanita and Evie would only be grieved for what they had become.

Maybe it was good for her to die here. Maybe it was right.

Juanita could practically smell the hellfire burning.

...Wait. She hadn't imagined that. It was smoke. Pungent, dangerous smoke, watering her eyes. She turned back towards the church. Smoke was curling up from the basement.

"What the!?" she shouted, cutting Evie off mid-sentence. "The cellar's on fire!"

She made for the stairs, and looked down. Someone had taken advantage of the funeral, preying on their distraction. Disgusting, but tactical. She saw her old footprints - and the newer ones that overlaid them. Whoever was down there hadn't come up. She ran for the church. If the arsonist was going for their spare supplies, she'd have to shoot first and ask questions later.

((Juanita Reid continued in HEAT UP))

[ViolentMedic]

((Russell ‘Fitz’ Fitzroy continued from It's Quiet...))

There was smoke in the air.

Fitz had one hand above his eyes as he squinted towards the sun, and the plume of smoke in the air. It was off from the intended goal of moving towards the sheriff’s office. But he’d made a turn in town once noticing it to move a bit more north.

He had quickly said, “Look, this way,” towards Kaede before moving off in that direction, but not discussed his logic.

This had taken both him and Kaede towards the church, and its nearby graveyard. Other streams of smoke had joined the pillar in the air.

But there were two problems evident when they got there.

The first… was that he had not been following the smoke of the church. The newer streams belonged to the church… but the thinner wisps were nothing like the pitch black streak spilling upwards. No… that was coming from somewhere much, MUCH further north. Though it was impossible to tell how far away – just that it wasn’t there.

That hadn’t been problem enough to stop Fitz’s feet from moving towards the church anyway. He’d gotten close to the entrance. Blood smeared on the doors, maybe more than last time. Doors slightly ajar but no smoke coming from them.

Smoke coming from the back.

Along the church Fitz went, rifle in hand but pointed at the ground.

He rounded a corner and saw a glimpse of a figure vanishing into the smoke streaming from an open door that went into the church cellar. And beyond that, a girl standing by a freshly filled grave. A girl that Fitz had seen just over a week ago, and shared a campfire with, before she’d killed five people.

Fitz abruptly took a step back the way he came, bumping into Kaede in the process.

“Back away,” he said to Kaede out of the corner of his mouth. The barrel of the rifle came up a couple of inches, slowly raising towards Evie. Still pointed more at the ground between them.

[decoy73]

((Kaede Tsurumi continued from It's Quiet ...))

Kaede looked at the scene that they were approaching. There was less smoke than expected. She (and Fitz) thought that there was a massive fire at the church. There was a massive fire somewhere behind the church. There was a fire at the church, but not one that they would have noticed from where they had been. There was only one person in the graveyard, which for reasons caused Fitz to back away. Kaede just squinted at the person that was there. She didn't really see any reason to back away. It was a girl, but not one she immediately recognized.

"Why? Who is she?"

[Dr Adjective]

“—see…”

What? Oh. Oh shit. What the actual fuck? Before Evie had time to gather her thoughts, Juanita was lurching off at surprising speed. She certainly hadn’t lied about her leg injury, it’d happened before the trip, but perhaps she’d played it up just a little to appear less threatening to Evie in the last couple of days.

Either way, their would-be fortress was smoking.

Truth was, she probably wouldn’t be able to do much about it. Juanita was already cutting off the exit, so the catching-the-culprit part was under control anyway: she had what looked to be a shotgun and the will to use it, after all.

So whilst Evie did intend to follow, she wasn’t in a blind hurry. She crouched down next to the open grave, gathered up what little loose earth there was - more of a pinch than a handful - and cast it into the pit. They did that at funerals, right?

“Maybe I’ll see you there,” she finished, “if I get in.”

Okay. Done. F pressed, respects paid. The unlikely mourner rose again and moved towards the source of the smoke, feeling in her coat pocket for the SMG she’d used down in that same cellar just the day before. Between it and Juanita’s shotgun, they should be plenty dangerous in an enclosed space.

Only, along the way, she heard something. Something indistinct. Shuffling, voices? Someone in motion, probably more than one someone, and hesitating to move? Had they seen her? Were they somehow sneaking around Juanita? Something else?

Didn’t matter. The MAC-11 came out, steadied with both hands, and Evie elected to take the initiative. By her reckoning, Claire couldn’t be the only coward still wandering the island refusing to fight, just waiting to die. Anyone awkwardly sneaking around in a group was probably not a killer laying an ambush, they were afraid, and most likely afraid of her.

The name, the face, the story of Evie McKown struck fear into her peers’ hearts. Might as well leverage that. She rounded a corner of the church, weapon raised, ready to take the lead in the metaphorical dance that had become so familiar to her. Ready, right up until she laid eyes on her target. On the rifle he held. She almost squeezed the trigger then and there.

Except, she had to know. The terrorists hadn’t given her the details, and there was more than one rifle on the island. As long as she was standing this close, gun drawn, she had the power. Fitz and… oh great, Dani’s sidekick Kaede was with him… they’d both have to follow Evie’s lead unless they were brave enough to test her reflexes.

She had to know. So she started by implying she already did.

“You missed.”

Evie stared Fitz dead in the eyes. After nearly two weeks of cold, of violence, of eating only bread and water, she certainly looked like death too.

“Missed me, at least.”

[ViolentMedic]

“It’s--”

Too late. Evie rounded the corner, gun at the ready. Fitz raised the rifle, moving back and pushing Kaede further with his shoulder as he tried to keep the gun steady.

“I’m not looking for a--”

Evie spoke before he could finish, and Fitz fell silent. He didn’t look away, but his eyebrows scrunched together as he tilted his head.

He didn’t look much better than Evie. With an already skinny frame becoming bony under the meagre diet, and blood coating his clothes in such amounts that it was hard to tell that the colours underneath clashed. He smelled like death, but the look in his eyes wasn’t deadly. Just confused.

“...What?”

Fitz raised his foot and kicked Kaede lightly in the shin, a silent urge for her to back up and move away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Evie.”

Another little nudge for Kaede to move accompanied Evie’s name, along with slight stress on the name.

“Missed you? Like… around the campfire?”

[decoy73]

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Evie.”

Evie, Evie She'd heard that name on the announcements ...

"Thankfully, Evie McKown doesn't let me down as she claimed yet another victim in quick succession. This time it was Danielle Bird, who was blasted like this was a game of Duck Hunt...hm...that might too old a reference for all of you. I'll guess we'll see."

Oh, wait. That. She'd almost forgotten about it, especially with what had happened over the last couple announcements.

"Oh, yeah." Her hands went into her pockets as she took a bit of a step forward. "I don't ... I don't know ..."

[Dr Adjective]

Fitz looked dumbfounded. Kaede looked sheepish. Evie ignored the latter, dismissing her as any sort of threat by comparison to the lanky boy with the rifle. He was a known killer, and whilst his raw strength was probably a mismatch for hers, reach and testosterone surely weren't to be underestimated... nor, obviously, his rifle.

Still. He seemed sincerely baffled by the accusation. Although she didn't lower her weapon, Evie's expression softened noticeably. She would still need to kill the two of them to get home, of course, but it wouldn't have to be personal.

"I... sorry. Someone shot at me last night. Killed my girlfriend, instead. Saw the rifle, jumped to conclusions. It's just, you know, still raw."

She'd had mixed success with the approach so far, but still, Evie felt it wise to try to give the appearance of de-escalation. Try to get Fitz to lower the rifle a bit more, before she took her own shot. To have come all this way, only to be taken down by someone not-quite-dead... it didn't bear thinking about. Couldn't be any more than twenty left. Victory was in her grasp. She could go home. She just had to be smart, be patient, and be more than a little bit ruthless.

"It's weird to think, can't be much more than a tenth of us left, now."

Her voice tried to speak of calm. But it didn't stop her gaze from being firmly fixed on the rifle, as it had been days before. Just as soon as it was in such a position to be disabled as soon as Fitz fell, that would be her moment. A burst of fire from the MAC-11 should be plenty to take out two competitors at close range, and that'd be the field narrowed by almost 10%. She just needed her moment. Perhaps they'd believe her posture was one of wariness. Perhaps that was unlikely, with five bodies already to her name. In the end, it didn't much matter.

"Like what, fifteen, twenty?"

[ViolentMedic]

“...That sucks,” Fitz said, a brief pensive look crossing his face. The choker itched around his neck. “Wasn’t me. Haven’t shot this thing since… well, since last you saw me, I guess.”

As Evie started to talk about numbers, Fitz took another step back. He tried to nudge Kaede back with his shoulder. His gun had lowered an inch, but was still very much up.

Evie was staring hard at his rifle. Fitz’s heartbeat was picking up, panic starting to well in his throat. His voice came out tense.

“Started with 134. One tenth would be thirteen. ...Rounded down.”

He took a step back, and met no resistance from Kaede.

“We were just checking out the fire, but we should just--”

He’d started taking more steps back, only to realise then that the lack of resistance wasn’t because Kaede was moving backwards, too. It was because she wasn’t behind him at all.

[decoy73]

Kaede took one step forward.

Her breathing had started to get harder. Kaede may have believed that Evie was more scared than anything ... if Evie hadn't killed Dani. It was possible that Evie was telling the truth, but as everything started to kick in, the issue of whether Evie was lying was becoming less important, and it was becoming more and more prevalent that irrespective of whether Evie was being truthful, Kaede wanted Evie to be lying. In fact, Kaede had barely even listened to what Evie had been saying, and only barely registered that she was now in front of Fitz as opposed to behind him.

"Yah. That ... sounds about right." She took another step forward. "I think that's where we're at." One last step forward. Kaede's jaw tightened as her left hand came out of her pocket and pressed down on the canister to spray at Evie.

[Dr Adjective]

A genuinely thoughtful expression crossed Evie's features for a moment. Just how in the heck did Fitz happen to know that exact number, right off the top of his head? The curiosity distracted her for a moment, wondering if perhaps she'd missed it being mentioned in the very first announcement, or if he'd Rain Man'd out the class on their way onto the coaches. Her focus remained on his gun, but narrowed. The weapon seemed to be taking the first baby steps towards lowering, but she wasn't out of the woods yet. He was backing away. He was scared, or at least wary, of her.

Understandable, but she needed her opening to...

Wait. Why did Fitz seem surprised suddenly?

Wait. Where was...

Evie's tunnel vision broadened. She dared to flick her eyes away from the boy and his gun for a moment. Off to the side, to where they met an expression of steely resolve, and a kind of weapon she hadn't expected to encounter at all.

"Don't even th--"

Her warning was cut off abruptly, as mid-way through turning her aim towards Kaede, her eyes met something so much worse. Cut off, and turned to an involuntarily screeched curse.

"FUCK!"

It all seemed to happen simultaneously. Kaede was moving, Evie was turning. The vicious burning sensation in her eyes, the gentle hiss of compressed fluid releasing, the roar of 32 bullets spilling out of the magazine at a rate of 20 per second, fired quite literally blindly into the general vicinity of Kaede Tsurumi. Evie wasn't entirely sure how much of her right arm's motion was the recoil of the comically rapid-firing gun and how much was the instinct to cover her eyes, but within the span of perhaps three seconds she'd emptied her submachinegun in a messy arc in front of her, then taken to desperately rubbing at her inflamed eyes, stumbling backwards on the cold, uneven ground, hoping in blind panic that she'd taken both of her targets down with her desperate defence.

[decoy73]

Kaede had her right where she wanted. She finally was able to get revenge. It was funny, only now was she feeling any real desire to avenge Danielle. Maybe it was because she actually was seeing the face of Dani's killer that everything started coming together. That and the fact that she did need one kill to go home, and it was so late in the game, and why not avenge her best friend? The machete was already coming out, and Evie was doing nothing but screaming in pain. Just one slash and it would al be over with ...

And that was just great. She'd tripped when Evie had blind fired. Kaede just pushed herself up as she coughed and the PAIN. The wetness around her mouth and her stomach was now clear, well, somewhat clear.

Kaede got up, with difficulty, and swung with the machete. Missed anyway. Should have made it through, even though her vision suddenly blurred. She took a step forward and fell onto her knees.

Oh, no. She coughed once more, expelling red copper.

I'm sorry, Dani. Guess I was able to stand up for once.

Ptoo. At least she was able to leave Evie with something.

STUDENT #1: KAEDE TSURUMI - ELIMINATED

15 STUDENTS REMAIN

[ViolentMedic]

The moment that Fitz had seen the pepper spray, he’d turned tail and run.

He’d made it several feet when he heard gunfire explode behind him, and he didn’t stop. Three seconds of noise, and the sounds of dirt and snow exploding in little bursts not far from him. Then it stopped, though the screeching and swearing continued.

Fitz dared to look behind him.

He saw Kaede collapse on her front, riddled with bullets. And Evie scrubbing at her eyes, likely making the spray worse.

He ran a few more feet, then glanced back again. His teeth clenched, and he looked back at Evie, blinded and vulnerable, and Kaede at her feet. He looked away across the graveyard towards freedom, then back at Evie.

He skidded to a halt and slid into a sitting position, fumbling with the rifle and unfolding the bipod. He almost slammed it down into the snow before rolling onto his front and ducking his head to look through the scope. Too close to aim properly, too jittery, but there might only be so much time before Evie could see again. He looked for a glimpse of her brown jacket and pulled the trigger.

Part of the church’s wall exploded three feet to her left, splinters flying.

He shifted the rifle, correcting like he had when aiming for the Halloween mask in the snow, and he prepared to fire again.