Survival Of The Fittest

Barry's smile faded into a look of concern. Alvaro was still trying to get away from him, and he had no idea why. Was it something he had said? He was only trying to be friendly. He didn't really think that anything he had said to Alvaro could be taken as a threat, at least not unless the shorter boy was already starting to get paranoid from the stresses of the island.

"What's wrong, man?" He asked with a twinge of nervousness in his voice. "I'm just trying to-"

He paused once Alvaro backed himself against a wall, not only because the other boy was obviously scared, but because with the sun now illuminating his face, Barry could see some pretty distinct injuries across his face. It looked like he had just come from a fight not too long ago.

"Whoa, what happened?" He leaned in a bit closer to try to get a better look at Alvaro's wounds. If he could help treat them, then maybe that would finally put Alvaro at ease.

Closer. Too close. Through the door. Up to him. He couldn't breathe. Wait, no. Couldn't hear himself breathe. He couldn't hear anything outside of his own thoughts not his breaths not the steps on the wooden platform not the words coming out of Barry's mouth absolutely nothing other than the fact that oh god he was getting closer and it was happening again oh god it was going to be another fight just like Min-jae and he didn't want to fight and he didn't want to fight Barry and he didn't want to be here and he just wanted to be in the cafe with Lily with Alessio with Barry the one from school who didn't side with the bullies who wasn't a bad person and who was Alvaro's friend who he could talk to whenever he wasn't feeling good and why did this have to happen why did this happen to them why did Barry turn against them and-

He remembered something. From sometime before. The dark room. The place where they shot Mr. Graham in the head and told them what was happening. The man on the stage - black hair, clean shaven - had told them something in particular. Showed them the images on the screen. Anyone. Anyone in that room around him could turn on him and try to kill him and he could die and he didn't want to die and he didn't want to be here and-

A voice. Barry's. Getting even closer to him. His hands were shaking. His breaths weren't going in. Barry was getting even closer to him and he knew what was going to happen. Barry was going to attack him because only one person could survive and he was working with Jonathan who was with Michael who bullied him and who was going to attack him because he was a bad person and people needed to be bad people and he was here and he couldn't move and he couldn't step back and he was cornered and he just need to do something before Barry attacked him. Anything. Anything that could get him out of here.

He had to do something.

His hands went out, feeling of the wind against his arms going unnoticed.

The force of Alvaro's unexpected push sent Barry stumbling back into a railing.  He had expected it to catch him, similar to how the railings on the stairway had kept him from falling after Nancy and Clarice had charged past him.  However, this rail happened to be in much worse shape that the rails on the stairway, and its rusted framework collapsed when Barry had backed into it.  Shocked, he lashed out with his arms in a vain attempt to grab something that could keep him from falling over the edge.  His fruitless efforts did nothing as he tumbled over the edge and out of sight.

He flipped over as he fell, giving him a good view of the ground below him.  It was a long drop to the bell floor, and there was nothing in the way to save him.  He still kept flailing his arms, giving the image that he was trying to swim through the air to escape the impending impact.  These movements continued to be as ineffective as they were when his feet were on the ground.

His momentum caused him to flip over once more in air, and now he was looking up at the platform he had fallen from.  He could see the spot where the railing had broken, Alvaro against the wall, and Jonathan still on the balcony.  He still didn't know what had happened to Alvaro, or why he had pushed him, but now it looked like he wouldn't get the chance to find out.

There was still hope for him, though.  Barry knew that people had survived long falls with minor injuries before, so maybe this could be one of those times.  Sure, he would probably still be hurt, but if he's still alive, then maybe he can help with whatever Alvaro's dealing with.  Maybe he could still help Jonathan with their plan to escape.  There were no certainties, but there was still hope.

Barry started to flip again, and he looked up to see that the floor that he was hurtling towards head-first was now mere inches from his face.

His neck broke on impact, and the rest of his body collapsed on top of it, his limbs flopping limply from the force of the landing.  His body fell flat and came to a rest under the bell that had been a futile symbol of his hope.

A noise from behind them interrupted Jonathan and Barry's words to the world.  Jonathan turned around, another smaller noise, much like a squeak emitted from the new stranger. Barry called out to him, it was Alvaro.

Alvaro was okay. Jonathan rarely talked to him, except maybe early on in his freshman year. He was okay for the most part, but Alvaro started avoiding him once he started talking to Michael. It was a lie to say he wasn't sure why, Michael had a habit of intimidating him, as well as mispronouncing his name, something that more than likely got on his nerves to no end. Being called 'Albania', 'Albano', 'Aloe vera'... Would get on anyone's nerves. Jonathan was never around when he did those jokes, but for whatever reason, Alvaro decided to avoid him. Guilty by association maybe?

Alvaro was always kind of twitchy, but this was different. In terms of friends and popularity, Barry was well perfect. Played sports, had a lot of friends, always happy, nothing bad could really be said about him. Alvaro was twitchy, but not this twitchy. Maybe it was the island, but it was obvious Barry meant no harm. Hell, Alvaro didn't even know if he had a gun or not, there was no reason to be scared of him. But then Alvaro kept backing away...

That pit of dread? It came back. Something was wrong, real wrong. Alvaro backed up, backed into the light. There were two features that disturbed him. His face, his face was real messed up. Was he jumped? Jon's eyes trailed up, they met Alvaro's eyes. That was the second feature, and that was when it hit him. That look in his eyes; it was unlike anything he'd ever seen, a cacophony of emotions, all negative. Fear, anger, something else that he couldn't quite place. That is what hit him. That wasn't the look of a victim, that was...

Jonathan ran forward, he had to help Barry. There was no way this was happening, he couldn't, he had to warn him he had to- "Barry! He's playi-" Barry reeled back, hit the railing, kept going back, he didn't stop. He dissapeared. Jonathan kept running forward before a thud... and something else hit his ears. Jonathan froze in place, the world deathly quiet. He thought he heard something in the distance. It sounded like a quiet breath, or maybe that was just the wind.

"Barry?"

Nothing.

"B-Barry?" Jonathan choked again. W-what did Alvaro do?! Why?! All we wanted to do was help! All Barry wanted to do was help!

"A-Alvaro..."

Jonathan looked up at him. Barry was supposed to make it off this island. He saved him, he deserved better.

"What the f-fuck is wrong with you?!" Jonathan pointed at Alvaro, he wanted to know. Why? Why did he- "Why?! W-why would you do this?!"

Jonathan could feel tears welling in his eyes as he screamed at that damn murderer.

Barry fell back - the railing collapsing behind him - out of sight.

Alvaro just stood there, staring at what he had just done.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Breathe in, breathe out.

There was a face that had just been there, standing right in front of him. Barry's. It was one he knew. A friend. A teammate. A person who he could talk to when he wanted to be calm and a person who he knew didn't mind him doing that.

But now the face was gone. It had disappeared. It had fallen off the platform and it was now out of sight. Barry was gone. He had fallen off the platform. He had heard something hit the ground. A snap. He was likely dead.

He looked down. At his hands. He could feel the air against them now.

He had done that.

He killed Barry.

His hands were shaking.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He couldn't. They weren't reaching his lungs. He stepped back. Flailed. It was a stair and he couldn't think and he couldn't remember and there was nothing under his foot and he almost fell and he had to grab the handrail to stop himself from falling down and he swung and he hit the wall and no no no why did he do that why did that happen he killed his friend he was a murderer now and now Jonathan was here and he was screaming at Alvaro and no no no he didn't want to be here he didn't want to be a murder he didn't want to be on this island he wanted to be home and why did this have to happen and why was he here why was he letting Jonathan scream at him he just had to-

Get away. He ran. Down the stairs. More than one at a time. Far past Jonathan.

And then he saw Barry. Face down. Dead. Alvaro's breathing became faster. He did that. He killed him. He did that. There was a bag off to the side. Barry's. Wait. Not his anymore. Because Barry was dead.

He did that.

Couldn't think.

Jonathan. Down the stairs. Run.

Killer.

Murderer.

He needed what he could get.

He grabbed the bag as he ran, not looking back as he left the bell tower.

((Alvaro Vacanti, continued in Would You Believe? This Isn't Me.))

"Huh?! Answer me! Why did you do it, Alvaro!" Jonathan couldn't think straight anymore. All he wanted was an answer from him. Something, anything. Alvaro could've spoken up about why he freaked out, Barry could've said that he was okay, something, anything, he was the only one talking. That infuriated him more. Alvaro, he did this, and he wasn't even going to speak, he was going to curl up and act like if he ignored it that it would be okay and that everything is fine that he is the victim and-

Alvaro started running down the stairs.

Barry was down there.

Barry had a gun.

Alvaro was running down stairs.

Oh no. Jonathan sprinted after him. If Alvaro got his hands on it, he'd- That fucking vulture! As Jonathan ran down the stairs, that pit of dread in his chest moved it's way up, into his neck, up his face, out his eyes. Alvaro got down the steps first, he grabbed Barry's bag. No, no he couldn't, that sick bastard! Jonathan lurched forward in an attempt to tackle Alvaro, to stop him.

He missed, and landed face first into the wooden floor, with Alvaro running off.  He rewarded himself for his deeds whilst simultaneously running from them. And now, he was going to do worse. Maybe this wasn't even his first kill. Maybe, those bruises were from someone fighting in self defense...

Jonathan wanted to keep chasing Alvaro, he wanted to make sure he wouldn't hurt anyone again; but he'd never catch up in time.

Jonathan turned, he saw Barry staring right back at him. His eyes. That stare, nothing behind it. No. He expected this outcome, but it wasn't what he deserved! He was going to help everyone get off! Jonathan knew he was saved by him, and out of everyone he's met, he's the only one who stood by him. And now here he was, laying on his back with his head tilted like-

Jonathan walked towards Barry's corpse. He would kill Alvaro. He would find him, and he would kill him. If nobody wanted to escape, that was fine by him, he could play by their rules- he could! He-

Jonathan closed Barry's eyes. He couldn't leave him like this, he deserved some respect. Jonathan had closed Barry's legs, and placed his hands on his chest. That's the way it's been done at funerals. That's what they did with Lisa... The one thing he couldn't fix was Barry's neck, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get it to rest at a natural angle. He would kill Alvaro. He would kill him.

Jonathan looked at Barry's corpse. Only a few minutes ago, he was alive. He had been talking to him, he was alive. Now he's not. He didn't have to play, just kill Alvaro, make sure he wouldn't go home. He looked at Barry. Jonathan pulled out his tape recorder, and replayed his message to the world.

"He's right, you know."

After everything that had happened, Barry looked calm. At peace. Even if he died with his eyes open, there wasn't any trace of fear or sadness or anything. Like he was okay with what had happened and his neck was bent and-

"He's right, you know." Jonathan played the recording again and again. He would kill Alvaro.

"He's right, you know." He would. He would, he- he can't. After everything that has happened, he couldn't. Not because he couldn't kill, if it were anyone else who'd have fallen, he would have done it. He'd have thrown everything away, and he'd have hunted Alvaro, until him or Jonathan fell.

But he wasn't going to. Barry wouldn't have wanted it. And because of that, Jonathan wasn't going to do it. He would get as many people off of this island as he could, regardless what happens to him. He wanted nothing more to give up and join the animals, but he wasn't going to. Barry died, and if he did that, he would have died for nothing.

Jonathan couldn't leave him like this though. He placed his bag to the side and took his shirt off, resting it over Barry's face. He had nothing else to use. This hurt, everything about this hurt.

Jonathan turned and left the bell tower. He played the tape recorder over and over on the way out. No matter what, he wasn't going to give in. Barry wasn't going to die for nothing. Even if Jonathan couldn't save anyone and had just gotten himself killed, he'd have at least tried. But he would not fall down like the others; he wouldn't become one of them.

"He's right, you know."

((Jonathan Gulley continued in Just Three People In A Messed Up Place.))