Survival Of The Fittest

Clayton had acted exactly once today. In his action, he attempted to help someone. Instead, he hurt her. He was doing a lot of listening now.

He simply listened to the conversation inside. Then he heard it.

A loud, screeching snap of metal. Silence, then the distant, harsh clatter on the ground far below.

The proverbial pin dropped.

"GET OUT!"

Clayton acted almost as if it was directed at him. He had no idea what was going on, only panic. Without thinking, he spun away from the door and tried to run for the stairs. And right then and there, his legs failed him: traction disappeared, and Clayton slipped and slammed hard on the ground outside the door. His face bounced.

He was stunned, but sore. And now he was very slowly coming to the realization that his stealth had all gone to shit.

((Exiting with confirmation from Fioriboy that Jenna would not stop Cassidy from leaving))

Thwack.

Cassidy scrambled away from the balcony, sliding like a crab back into the door, her wrists catching the carpet again. She cursed.

He couldn't be dead... no. After a fall like that, he couldn't be alive. Not a chance in hell. It was her fault. Her doing. Her clumsiness. Her selfishness. Her actions. Her reactions. Her unnecessary desire to welcome all of these nice kids to the island with hugs.

David was dead. David who was some kind of swimmer. David who had also grown up in, been born and gotten raised in Seattle. David, who she'd known on a friendly enough level. Dead.

She'd dealt with death before. Not at all like this, but she at least had some kind of experience. She'd never had to deal with a death she'd played a hand in. This was so fucking stupid. Why didn't she just continue on her way once they said, "No Matt here."? Why couldn't she have just watched her fucking steps? Why did she have to escape the quick death David had just been stuck with?

Was she a killer? She was responsible, that was undeniable. She was regretful, she was feeling guilt, but was that burden of blame enough to redefine her?

She was paralyzed. Her body was so heavy, her limbs so weak. The room was spinning, and David's spirit would join them soon to curse Cassidy for her idiocy. Her fingers gripped at the floor, she wished she could stop everything. Bring everything, time itself, to a halt. If she could do that, maybe she could start to turn things back.

Screaming was behind her. All her senses seemed to have gone numb, the loud shouts weren't understood. She turned slowly, not ready to let time return to its standard speed yet.

Turn time back just a minute. Maybe a few days so she could get the trip cancelled. Maybe she could-

Yukiko had tears in her eyes, and a giant, automatic, murder machine held out in front of her, directly at Cassidy. Cassidy's adrenaline kicked in, time was moving forward, and it was accelerating at an alarming pace. If she couldn't keep up, she'd be dead or responsible for another death by the end of the day.

Cassidy replayed the scene in her head. What HAD happened? She replayed it again. Again. Shorter. Faster. Again. Shorter. Closer. Back up. Remember everything.

Where did she hit him, why did she hold eye contact, what was he saying that was so interesting she couldn't look to see where she were going?

"...I wonder they really would…

"…blow us all up.

"…if we go 24 hours…

"…without a kill…"

Slip. Thump. Snap.

Thwack.

Whether they would or they wouldn't. One thing was for sure. There were twenty four more hours from this point on. Maybe more deaths in the next twenty four would extend that deadline farther away. There was no saying.

But she had an idea now, at least. No more fearing that she might blow up any second given she didn't know the exact time of the start. She had twenty three hours, fifty four minutes, and about fifty nine seconds before she had to worry again.

She had time until then.

Not much, but she would just have to rush.

Matt had to be found.

She wasn't ready to die.

The Japanese friend in front of Cassidy, with tears in her eyes, pointed her weed-whacker with circular saw attachment down at her.

Another girl was trying to get in her face, her tone sounded like she was threatening her.

"So-…Accid…ent… fu-fah-fell and… he…. I…"

She stood up calmly, arms at hip level and open to show she wasn't trying to do anything but leave. She let her hands fall too her sides as she moved for the door. Her hand caught the open zipper of her duffel bag. Her "weapon" was still at the scene after that mess. Whatever. Wasn't going to help with anything anyway, aside from validating her harmlessness.

"I-I'm going…" She spoke to the room. Her walk was brisk. Saying sorry would be like putting a band-aid on a decapitation.

She closed her eyes and took a desperate breath to calm herself down before leaving the room. Her eyes stayed closed tightly as she rubbed the sides of her ears, trying hard to process and think. She turned away before looking up, opening her eyes, and starting forward with a near run pace towards the stairs she'd come from.

There was a boy sprawled out on the floor. Cassidy held her breath, gripped her bag, stepped between his legs and leapt over his torso. He wasn't Matt, and she didn't have time to process who he was or why he was there.

She landed, took a few more steps, and pushed open the door to the stairs. She wasn't even crying. Mourning something as spontaneous as David's death was to waste the time his life had bought them.

((Cassidy Kant continued in We've All Been Sorry, We've All Been Hurt))

She just left.

Cassidy just left, and was nothing Yukiko did to stop it. She couldn't... she couldn't have another death on her hands.

The weed whacker clattered to the floor, and Yukiko went on all fours, breathing heavily. She needed a moment to collect her thoughts.

"We need... need to get out of here. Pl-Please... let's just go."

She wiped her eyes, then stood up, picked up her weapon and her bag, and headed out of the room. She only vaguely registered the boy sprawled out on the floor as she headed down the stairs.

Yukiko didn't even know if the others would follow. She just wanted to get away from this place as fast as possible.

((Yukiko Sakurai continued in The Bastion.))

Gibberish. That was all Cassidy could come up with to defend herself. No words of denial, or attempts at making a run for it, just plain old fashioned gibberish.

Gibberish which somehow sounded far more genuine than any eloquently expressed response she could have come up with.

Jenna felt a tinge of guilt as she thought back to what she had just said to Cassidy. What on earth was she doing? This girl just experienced a traumatising accident, and here she was interrogating her like she was caught with a bloody knife in her hand. What happened to David was a freak accident, one which could have happened to anyone. Bad luck was more to blame here than the girl she had been threatening.

Threatening to do what exactly? Kill her? God forbid, that's exactly what these terrorists would have wanted her to do. That said, how else could she prevent Cassidy from potentially harming anyone else? She couldn't exactly take her weapon away when there was no weapon to take in the first place. Maybe she could bind her up, leave her helpless in this hotel room? That would have been no better than killing her, especially if this place was to become a danger zone. Like it or not, the only way one could really stop other classmates committing murder was to do the very thing the terrorists were expecting them to do.

When Cassidy got up and wondered out the building, Jenna didn't do a thing to stop. She hardly even took any notice as she left, too caught up in her own thoughts to make any attempt at keeping the other girl from leaving. She still couldn't believe that the thought of doing something awful to Cassidy had even crossed her mind, let alone the fact that she had actually outright threatened Cassidy. Then again, maybe that had been the right thing to do given their situation, and that by letting Cassidy go she was potentially risking the lives of her other classmates?

The only thing that brought her back to reality was Yukiko's announcing her desire to leave this place, a decision that Jenna was more than happy to agree with. Exploring the rest of this building had been a mistake, one which they had paid for with David's life. Christ, the fact that David was dead in the first place was almost too surreal to bear.

Jenna got up, hoisting her bag over her shoulder as she left the hotel room. She briefly glanced back at Jack, unsure really as to whether or not she should invite him to tag along. Given how passive he had been, she wasn't entirely sure whether he would be much use if there were to come across anyone who was actually a threat.

In any case, without further ado she followed Yukiko out of the building, only briefly noticing the boy sprawled out on the floor as she  tried to keep up with her friend.

((Jenna Rhodes continued elsewhere...))

It got eerily quiet all of a sudden. The brief flash of anger all around the room, followed by everyone looking expectantly at Cassidy, who...

... just spouted out some nonsense and walked out. It was obvious to Jack that she was just as distressed as they were. He almost felt bad for her. Almost.

Then there was more silence. More incredibly awkward silence. It wasn't like Jack had any idea what to say. He was never great at giving comfort to people when they were in despair, so he was afraid anything he'd say would just get people mad at him or something.

He stared out at the balcony, trying to look out at the ocean and not at the broken part of the balcony. That, he learned, was no easy feat.

"David's dead. David's dead. David's dead."

He didn't know where to move on after that very plain statement. And that was both mentally and physically. They were on this huge, expansive island, and... where was he supposed to go?

He was in such a stupor over this that by the time he turned his head back around, everyone was leaving. Jack faltered. He didn't think they had officially invited him along, but...

"Ah, screw it, I am NOT being left alone here."

Jack quickly jogged to the hallway, only pausing to sling his own bag over his shoulder. He got a quick look at his assigned number - B013.

"Oh, thanks universe. That's definitely what I needed right now.

Well, that was a matter for later. Right now, he needed to focus on catching up to the group. He raced out into the hallway...

Right into another guy on the floor. Jack grunted a bit. Again, not what he needed right now.

"I... uh... you can... never mind."

With... whatever that was, Jack (awkwardly) vaulted the boy, running down the hallway as to not lose the two girls.

"Hopefully they have a better plan than I do."

((Jack McDonald continued in The Bastion.))

Clayton had his eyes tightly shut as he was on the ground. He responded to the incoming footsteps much like a small child would: closing his eyes and hoping everything would just go away.

Clayton wasn't a brave boy.

And yet......it worked. They all left.

The footsteps faded down the stairs, each filing after the other. Going down, the vibrations in the floor getting lesser and lesser, and then nothing.

He continued to lie face down for some time. Waiting. Unsure of what to do.

And then finally, he picked himself up. He looked back into the room they had all just left, taking little note of anything, then wearily went downstairs.

He had no idea what happened in that room until he went outside.

((Clayton Leven continued elsewhere))