Survival Of The Fittest

"Alright, I'll keep the sword on me for now, you never know when it will come in handy," Rob scooped up the blade and shoved it awkwardly into his belt, from which it protruded at an odd angle. He shuffled from foot to foot impatiently. Sure they couldn't just charge in without a plan, but didn't they know what the time was? It wouldn't be long before dawn, the next announcement, and then... well, they could say goodbye to rescuing James.

Funny that, Bobby didn't even really know who James was, and he was now standing here, anxious because he life was in danger. Was this what everybody felt like right now? Had been feeling for the last week? Urgh... there wasn't time to worry about it.

"Less planning, more trying to find this bastard. Let's fucking roll,"

Rob didn't wait for a reply but headed off into the jungle. Waiting now... wasn't a good idea, Heath and Shamee could bring him up on his manners after they'd stopped a murder from happening.

Bobby Jacks, trying to stop somebody being killed? Surely not.

((Rob continued in: When We Die))

Wow, she had a gun. Shameeca for all her posing and wanna-be gandster past, she had never actually possessed a gun. The same thing that she knew could destroy families and end lives she held in her hands. How many people had suffered because of this, she wondered. How many had their lives snuffed out by it, how many saved because of it. She would have to use it to kill, to murder a boy her own age to save someone who she didn't know very well at all. The only reason she was doing this, putting it all on the line was that James had shown her kindness and it was better to die attempting to save someone who was good rather than for a random reason that no-one cared about, a petty rivalry or for a shinier toy to kill their classmates with. Shameeca was probably going to die anyway, she had come to terms with that. The odds were against her. She wasn't the strongest, the beautifulest, the smartest or even the best cook on the island. She would end up being just another name to a list of SOTF victims and if she was lucky, she would have a fast burial, maybe a few words said. Hell, if Rob or Heath made it, maybe she would even be remembered by someone. No, her parents, not her biological parents, but her family, they would be the one who missed her. And it broke her heart to know that her dying would break theirs.

"Lets go then. If we cut by the Northern coast, we can get there faster" she said, checking the gun for bullets. Yes it was loaded and heavy in her hands, yet she would need it to do what she had too. Looking behind her and in front, she was glad that these guys had her back. One genuinely nice guy and someone who could be a pyschopathic killer, yet had agreed to help her save someone he had never met. No, Rob wasn't a killer, in fact he was quite attractive. If she made it out of this upcoming resuce in one piece, she may even tell him. But that was an if, and not a promise. Just something to look forward to for hope. If you didn't move forward, you would only fall down and die. Shameeca didn't want to die yet.

((Shameeca continued in: When We Die))

Before Heath knew it, he was all alone. He didn't charge away. Though he was vital to the task at hand. He wanted to do something before that though.

He walked over to the Petra Andrews, the girl who inspired this insane crusade of his. "I don't know what to say. I don't usually do these types of things. Hell, I didn't do much of anything before this. But… I didn't think you'd die. And I wished you wouldn't've." He paused, exhaling mutely. "You were a pretty nice girl. And though I knew you for barely a day, I-I very much appreciate that I met up with ya."

He knelt down on the drenched grass and embraced her. And that's when he finally started to cry. For what exactly he wasn't sure. Whether it is out of spontaneous puppy love or the fact that she was dead finally hit him. Perhaps it was that she had to die. Or it could it be that he truly was as useless as he thought. But all he could do was cry. Then his grip loosened. "Petra Andrews… I'll see ya later."

Heath knew full what he was did was pointless. But he didn't care. And he continued off to help Rob. No matter what. By the end of this day, can I really kill, though?

(Heath continued to When We Die)