Survival Of The Fittest

"Yeah, let's go," Desiree said, already heading back for the stairs to the lower part of the boat. Lucas quickly caught up and followed behind.

Soon enough the pair emerged at the hole torn into the side of the ship and carefully hopped out onto solid ground. They quickly caught up to where the other guys were waiting.

"We're ready," she said to the group. "Are we still going for the infirmary?"

Turned out Lucas himself would answer Thomas’s question, calling down from the ship and delivering a little quip. He also voiced the concern that the group should get moving again, something which Thomas thoroughly agreed with.

“Alright then, come on down!” Thomas called back to the pair.

Then, Sean asked him a rather pointed question. Were Desiree and Lucas alright? It took him a moment to think.

Desiree was a bit silly on a certain level, which felt rather strange considering the circumstances, but that wasn’t the sort of thing that seemed like any kind of trouble. Lucas, on the other hand…

Something is clearly up with him.

Thomas was worried he was getting paranoid, worrying about nothing, but the nice discussion then the getting sick, then the little quips, it was giving him mood whiplash. Lucas was clearly not handling himself well.

And you can’t just be the kid’s mother, particularly not out here. Unstable is not the type you help to find a weapon.

But he seemed to get on well with Desiree. She could pick up the slack. Maybe.

Trying to ignore the nagging doubt, and turning back to Sean, Thomas delivered a bullshit answer accompanied by as reassuring a smile as he could muster. “I mean, as alright as I can expect anyone to be. You know, considering.”

After a moment, he and Sean were joined by their other two companions on the shore.

“I mean, I don’t see any reason to change plans right now. If we’ve all got our stuff, I say now’s as good a time as any.” He replied to Desiree’s question.

After a bit of agreement and taking stock, Thomas once again took point as the group departed from the yacht.

((Thomas Buckley continued in And what if you don't close?))

Lucas followed Desiree down and out through the hole on the side of the boat. Alright, cool, plan was still to go to the infirmary. Lucas would hopefully get a scalpel or a knife or something there, and hopefully he'd be able to affix it with medical tape to the end of his sword and have a long, pointy stick. That sounded just fine.

Yeah.

And then he'd leave these people.

It was obvious that even in spite of the earlier apology Sean and Thomas didn't really enjoy his company or want him around. He was too unpredictable, too chaotic. How could anyone not be, though? Under these circumstances? Lucas had just been ripped from his life and basically told that he had at most a week to live, and he was coming under scrutiny for not taking that well? Really, fuck these people, fuck what they believed, fuck everyone and anyone who took that line of thinking.

Desiree was okay, but even she was somewhat inscrutable. If Lucas was overtly chaotic, then Desiree was inwardly drawn and it was hard to tell what she was thinking at any given moment. Maybe later he'd talk to her about going off on their own. The earlier thing with the chips gave him hope.

But for now, it was safer to travel in numbers. Lucas gathered his belongings and followed Thomas and the rest of the group away from the yacht as the Increasingly Cloutless Gang continued on their journey.

[Lucas Diaz continued elsewhere.]

It wasn't much of an answer he was given. Hell, in a way it was a non-answer. The guy wanted to go here, had a talk with Thomas then suddenly got sick and needed to be alone? And now he was quipping at them from on top?

Something wass definitely not right around here, aside from the obvious.

Speaking of the devil, he walked out with Desiree in tow, ready to get out of here. And going with the same plan they had earlier, get to the infimary. Let's see if that happens or if they want another detour.

Sean got up and collected his things and followed his group.

((Sean Leibowitz continued in Right Turn at Albuquerque))

Desiree watched the boys as they took off, joining them in a couple of places before stopping to look back at the boat. Her eyes drifted around the hole, the top deck, and the nearby camera that locked itself into a staring match with her.

It sat there watching. Waiting. All eyes on her.

((She broke contact, picking up the pace to catch up with the others and set sail for new horizons.))