Survival Of The Fittest

Autumn pulled back. Her arm with the gun at the end of it went slack and the weight of the gun brought it down, pointing towards the sand.

"It's cold out," she said flatly.

Autumn picked up her bag and slung the strap over her shoulder. It was heavy, but that was a sign of all the supplies she'd picked up. It was her survival given corporeal form.

"It's been cold for a while."

She looked at Claire, still a bit uncomfortable that she'd lost control the way that she did. Autumn was better than that. She wasn't a scared brat that would go on a shooting spree when a squirrel ran by.

"Do you ever get the feeling that you'll never be warm again?"

It was a stupid question that meant nothing. She immediately regretted it.

"Never mind. Go away and I won't waste a bullet on you."

Autumn's reaction showed quite well the continued deterioration of her mental state. Even if her comments did make a little sense—albeit not in any logical fashion, but on an emotional association level—Claire didn't want to stick around to see what new insanity she manifested. Autumn hadn't become violent at any point, but she'd gotten close. She was now suggesting that Claire leave. That had been Claire's goal ever since she figured out that Autumn wasn't quite there.

The only trick was doing this safely. She had to be very careful. She had to make sure there was no opportunity to spring a trap.

"Do not let her shoot you in the back."

So Claire backed away, keeping her gun up and aimed. Throughout this whole encounter, violence had seemed nearly inevitable, but now they were done with each other, finished with this little standoff. Autumn could finish her silly plan, and Claire could get back to work actually making it out of here alive, making it home to her parents.

"Bye," she said. She could've said more, but brevity seemed politic here.

She kept moving backwards, not dropping her guard for an instant, until she was under the cover of the swamp. Once she was sure Autumn didn't have a line of fire, she turned and headed back towards the center of the island. She'd find somewhere better next time, somewhere without unstable people. Assuming, of course, such a place still existed on this island.

((Claire Lambert continued in So Close))

Autumn watched Claire go off. She backed away from her with her weapon raised until she turned tail and ran off.

That's right, run away scared. Autumn would never do that. She was too proud. She stuck her nose up and turned sharply on her heel. She looked like a little girl, proud to have gotten the last ball away from a sad kiddie at recess.

Her steady steps made a slight squashing sound as they dug in the sand and in her periphery the bright light of the girl she set aflame flickered on the horizon of the ocean.

She had her bag and she did was she'd set out to achieve. The beach was too open of a location. Any desperate loser who stumbled onto the beach would be able to see her. Autumn whipped back to look at the burning pyre one last time. No remorse. Not for her or the bodies she'd looted. She would survive and she'd do it alone. She was the only person she trusted.

Autumn bit her lip. Her left eye lid moved a little of it's own accord. She blinked. For one second she thought she saw a flash of Nik's body, eyes glazed and blood pooling. It was just a second. Her eyebrows knitted together and she stood open-mouthed. She shook her head wildly and cleared her throat.

She was starting to trust even herself less and less.

((Autumn O'Leary continued in Deep Warm Drunk))