Survival Of The Fittest

She had nothing to add, and the names meant very little to her. So for the time being, Bethany kept her distance from the fire. She was warm enough where she was, and didn't particularly intend on making things worse by sharing her foul mood with the newcomer.

At least on her father's idiotic excursions there were marshmallows to roast after they'd gotten their hands filthy building a fire.

Barely audibly but aloud, she continued her memorisation. Beth wanted those names drilled into her mind. Aracelis she left out: she needed no help remembering her.

"Kitty Graves. Jezzie Stark. Janice Cresner..."

Shawn nodded solemnly, feigning sympathy as he chewed away. Seemed like folk had a tendency to ditch Wendy at a moments notice.

"Sorry to hear that..." he said, clearing his throat before staring into that fire. "Haven't had too much luck myself. Bumped into Calvin the other day, crazy bastard came at me with a sickle... Can you believe that?"

He grabbed a stick to poke the embers some more. "Then later managed to bump into Bethany and..." he continued, pausing briefly to glance her way. "...we've been travelling together ever since."

Shawn paused for a moment, noticing that Bethany was repeating her murder mantra again, before clearing his throat and turning back to Wendy. "Otherwise, things have been pretty uneventful on our end. Well, other than this one unfortunate encounter with Abhishek..."

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Wendy.

Wendy imagined being attacked by someone with a sickle. Heck, it didn’t have to be a sickle. It could be a knife, a gun, anything that could have be used to physically hurt someone. A chill ran down her spine. If someone attacked her, Wendy would likely try to run.

However, what if she had nowhere to run. Would she have no choice but to fight? She still had her shield-gauntlet. If push came to shove, she could defend herself with it. Maybe even…

She shook her head.

“What happened with Abhishek?,” she asked.

“That ridiculous child,” Beth interjected, recalling her prior words to the boy.

“Refused the share a campfire. And intended to back up his selfishness with violence.”

She was rather pleased with that appellation. Ridiculous child. An apt description of the sort of person who liked to dress himself in the trappings of Marxism to annoy people like Bethany, yet clearly hadn’t actually read a word of Marx. And yet he insisted on coming to debate club and smearing her thinkers of choice as selfish grifters.

Beth felt her gloved hands beginning to tighten into fists, as if she were gripping her pickaxe despite its absence. Lucky for Abhishek he’d turned away two resourceful people, not any of the kids who had already died of exposure for lack of outdoors skills. Selfish, ridiculous child. He deserved to die shivering too.

“Nevertheless, we made our own.”

Shawn nodded his head in agreement. "And then some, spent pretty much all day on this bad boy."

He tried to take some pride in the results of his and Bethany's hard work, but truth be told it wasn't much to write home about, Shawn exhaling as he tossed that stick onto the burning embers to join the rest. "But, yeah, he also claimed to hurt a friend of ours. Not sure if I really believe him, but I wouldn't put it past the bastard either."

Shawn looked back at Wendy, a grave look in his eyes, his face half-illuminated by the flicking light of that campfire. "Either way, I'd suggest you watch out for that one. Wouldn't be surprised if his name crops up in the announcements, some point or another..."

It was a bit of an exaggeration, of course. He doubted that Abhishek was a threat to anyone but himself, all bark and no bite. But, that didn't mean he couldn't sow a couple seeds of doubt here and there, set a couple butterflies in motion.

Either way, after letting out a long yawn, he was beginning to suspect it was about time they hit the hay.

"But, anyway... I'm afraid there's only enough room in the shelter for two, but I've no issue with you sleeping beside the fire if you wish to stick around."

Maybe even leave that bag of yours unattended, whilst you're at it...

“Wow,” Wendy said astonished, “What a jerk.”

That might have been an understatement. People could turn into real monsters out here.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Wendy responded to Shawn’s warning about Ahbishek.

While it was unfortunate that there was no more room in their shelter, Wendy figured she’d be okay sleeping by the fire.

“Yeah, I’ll just sleep here,” said Wendy, “It’s nice and warm.”

Wendy wrapped herself up in her emergency blanket, leaning back against her duffel bag as a makeshift (if uncomfortable) pillow.

Bethany drew closer to the fire. This felt nice, all told. She was doing something good. Helping out a fellow in need, like any good Christian ought. Her fists unclenched somewhat, and she looked out at the darkness surrounding their little oasis of warmth and light and taking in the rapidly diminishing view, such as it was. Darkness and trees. She'd heard that somewhere before. Broadway? It sounded like a lyric from something she knew, but she couldn't quite place it. Darkness and trees... no, no she couldn't quite remember, but even so the familiarity came as a comfort to her. Made the ocean of blackness encircling the trio seem that slight bit less imposing.

Besides, it was the creatures dwelling in it that they had to fear.

"There's room for two in there," she began, circling around to retrieve her bag from within the shelter.

"You plus Shawn while I take first watch. Then we can switch."

Bethany spoke authoritatively, not intending to invite debate. As far as she was concerned, she'd been calling the shots since before she met up with Shawn, let alone Wendy. Best it stay that way.

Shawn nodded in agreement with Bethany's suggestion, though he couldn't help scowl once her back was turned.

That tone of her's had only grown more grating the longer they spent together, acting like she was in charge instead of his equal. Granted he wasn't the one with the pickaxe, nor did he make much of an effort to challenge her supposed leadership. Not until it became an actual issue, anyway.

For now, he nodded in silent compliance, gesturing for Wendy to follow him as he crawled into that wooden shelter. It was far from perfect, if anything were it not for the shared body heat and foil blankets it was probably warmer by the fire, but a poor shelter was better than no shelter. He could only hope that the cold would thin the crowd out a little more come morning, his classmates proving to be frustratingly resilient against the elements thus far.

Until then, he closed his eyes and drifted off, briefly glancing aside as Wendy used her bag as a pillow.

Shame she couldn't be a little more careless...

The following morning, Shawn found himself sitting alone by what remained of that fire, barely awake as he took the third watch.

He slowly rubbed the growing stubble on his chin, letting out a frustrated groan. Four days. Four fucking days on that fucking island. How much longer was this shit going to take? He'd never gone this long before without a shower, shave or a good meal, his stomach aching for anything that wasn't stale bread or some tasteless ration bar. Fucking hell he'd even eat an MRE at this point, at least that was a hot meal.

With an annoyed grunt, he reached for the bottle of water he kept cool in the snow, opening it up to take a swig. Not long after he found himself needing the bathroom, turning back to check if Bethany or Wendy were awake yet before shrugging and heading off, venturing just outside the camp to a small tree before unzipping his fly.

He was in the middle of business as it were when he got jump scared yet again by the blare of a microphone, their esteemed host listing out the past day's victims. Not many names this time around that meant much to him, though Katelyn was now up to five or so kills at this point. Not someone he really wanted to bump into, but as long as she was out there whittling down the competition and drawing lots of attention, he could hardly complain.

One name that made him pause for thought however was Calvin's, Shawn unable to help but let out a suppressed chuckle at the thought of him getting struck by a miniature tsunami. Still, the fact that he wasn't claimed by exposure suggested that his attempt as sabotage didn't amount to much in the end. 

Hell, what HAD he done that had amounted to anything thus far? Nothing. All he had really achieved was wander from one place to another, laying low and staying out of trouble. Which on the one hand, meant he was still alive and relatively healthy, not to mention avoiding the attention of any would-be vigilante types. But it also meant he hadn't done much to speed things along, his classmates taking their sweet fucking time offing one another, stretching this ungodly nightmare out for what could end up being weeks at this rate.

Bethany seemed eager to get her hands dirty, that obsessive list of her's was evidence enough of that, but she was mostly concerned with going after those who were doing all the hard work for them. That wasn't ideal, not until they were closer to the end and all the power players had worn themselves down, but at least it was something he could use to his advantage. If only he could...

His train of thought was interrupted by a twig snapping underfoot, his head turning to see an errant deer wandering past their camp. He felt a sudden hankering for some venison steak, or maybe some hotdogs with baked beans, and a side of coke.

Shawn sighed, zipping his pants back up before returning to camp. Perhaps it was time to get a move on.

Bethany seemed to have the same idea, already packing her things as Shawn reached down for his bag. He'd already marked out the camp's rough coordinates on his map, didn't hurt to have an emergency fallback point after all. But it was clear that they needed to be more proactive, especially after letting the past day slip through their fingers.

He briefly pondered what to do about Wendy, such as whether it was worth trying to convince Bethany to help him liberate her of her belongings. In the end he decided against bringing the idea up, didn't strike him as worth the risk of alienating his one ally. Besides, she could watch over the camp for them, or go do her own thing again. Either way, he doubted any good would come from inviting her to follow the path they were about to undertake.

Spear in hand and bag slung over his back, Shawn nodded to Bethany before letting her lead the way, giving the camp one last glance before following in her shadow.

((Shawn Bellamy continues elsewhere...))

The late evening and early night passed without incident. Of course it did. It was a big island, they were off the beaten track, and the population was dwindling fast. If the trend so far continued, another ten would be dead by morning light, give it take. So it struck Bethany as unlikely that anyone would happen across an isolated campfire after sundown, they’d be seeking shelter elsewhere if they were seeking it at all.

But still, Wendy had beaten those odds. So Beth still sat vigilant by the warmth of the somewhat diminished fire, cradling her pickaxe like it was a rifle. Maybe from a distance, it might be mistaken for one in the low light.

But no. Time passed without incident. From time to time she stirred the embers, added some more fuel, got up and paced the cold and stiffness out of her legs. Aware of the pair sleeping nearby, she kept her voice low when she reminded herself of the three names she most needed to remember. Aracelis, of course, she could never forget. Kitty, Jezzie, and Janice she kept on drilling into her mind.

Like before, it was hard to judge when her shift was up. Mind alive with what she would do should she get her hands on a willing murderer, Beth didn’t feel particularly tired.

In the dark and stillness, she couldn’t see any cameras. But the idea had played on Bethany’s mind for a while now. She was sure there must be one somewhere around. Presumably trained on their campfire by now, if some level of directorial fiat was behind it all. So she sat down again, resolving to rouse Wendy once she was done.

“I’m sure you’re not watching,”

Bethany pulled a face. This probably was a waste of time. But she had to get it off her chest.

“You’re better than that. I know that.”

Deep sigh. So much fucking better than her. Such an unreachable ideal to aspire to. Not that she believed it deep down. So much un-Christian, un-American about them both, that they just couldn’t see.

“I’ve decided I’m coming home. The monsters in chief only want a so-called winner to kill once to let them go free, and I’ve got a constantly growing list of people…”

God, how should she phrase it?

“Who’ve decided to forfeit innocence. Who I don’t have to feel guilty about.”

Of course, Bethany still felt that curling dread that accompanied her burning anger. She just had to hold it down. That hesitation, that guilt? That’s how she knew she was a good person. A better one than the enthusiastic killers, at least. She’d go home and wrestle with what she’d done. They wouldn’t. So she deserved to go home. It made sense to her. It had to.

“Pray for me.”

-

Bethany was roused by the blare of the third announcement. Evidently Shawn hadn’t seen fit to wake the two girls himself, and when she rose and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, Beth quickly found she couldn’t see him at all. She struggled out of her sleeping bag, grabbed her weapon, and burst out of the bivouac ready for violence.

Only for a certain sort of white noise between Danya’s proclamations to clue her in. Oh. He was just relieving himself. Bethany clambered back under the shelter to retrieve the rest of her belongings, then moved back over to the remains of the fire. Idly stirring the embers with the business end of her pick, she paid attention to the new death toll.

Just one new name for her list: Jessica Romero had taken a day off before killing again. Other than that, all new names to extend the benefit of the doubt to, besides Kitty Graves who had chosen to live up to her surname by filling another two.

”Kitty Graves, Jezzie Stark, Kitty Graves, Janice Cresner, Kitty Graves, Jessica Romero, Kitty Graves…”

It felt right. Four mentions for four kills above the one she could choose to believe wasn’t cold blooded murder. Interesting that all four names were girls, too. Beth almost hoped her father was watching, having his attitude towards his own heir challenged just a little. Moreover, it fuelled the fire inside of her to make good on her promise to come home. But just in case she didn’t…

By the time Shawn made it back, Bethany had finished carving her name into the bark of a particularly thick tree, and set about neatly packing the rest of her things for travel. It seemed he had the same general idea. No point sitting around and waiting for their supplies to run out. Not when they could be liberating them from less-deserving owners.

Bethany turned her attention to Wendy. “Camp’s yours if you want it. We probably won’t be back.”

She left the lack of invitation to follow them merely implied.

[Bethany Lyon sets off with a heart full of Venom.]

“Oh, okay,” Wendy said.

Admittedly, she was touched by their offer to sleep in their makeshift shelter. She got up, grabbed her blanket and bag, and laid them down, her bag acting as a pillow, and blanket as a sleeping bag.

—

Wendy woke up to the announcements, right on schedule. She wanted to sleep some more. However, it seemed she was growing accustomed to having the announcements act as her alarm clock.

As the announcements played, Wendy couldn’t help but feel herself growing numb to the names of the classmates being listed. That is, until Taylor Thorne was listed amongst the victims.

That was quite a shock. Wendy had last seen Taylor yesterday. They disappeared into the woods and now they’re…

“I was with Taylor, only yesterday,” Wendy muttered.

Really goes to show. Death comes for everyone around here. Whenever possible. Maybe today, it was Wendy’s turn.

She then noticed Bethany and Shawn packing their things. Bethany offered the camp to Wendy, saying they probably wouldn’t be back. Wendy nodded her head.

“Yeah, okay,” Wendy sighed.

After they left, Wendy just there, contemplating her next move.

(Wendy Kennedy, continued elsewhere…)