Survival Of The Fittest

The stitching pricked. Kimberly didn't watch. She didn't think about it. Compared to being shot it the arm, it hardly mattered. Funny, how she'd already fallen so low. What a difference in perspective a few minutes could make. Thinking back that short time, Kimberly found that she hated herself, hated the fraud she had been. Hated that she had been so scared as to pretend.

Didn't mean she wasn't gonna fuck Kris up for changing her, though.

Then Sarah surprised Kimberly by agreeing to come along. Well. That would make things easier. Not that she needed them to be. She had total confidence that she could succeed at her mission alone. She still suspected she would have to. There was a good chance Sarah was coming along, not to help out, but out of some misplaced hope of cooling Kimberly down in a day or two, when the pain and insult were less immediate. Fat chance. Kimberly had her course. She would stay true to it.

Sarah called for the others. Dutchy and Roland. They'd be coming too, it seemed. Brilliant. Now she would have some sort of fucking procession. This was going to be complicated by the fact that, when they caught Kris, it was almost guaranteed one of the group would choke, would find themselves unable to do what needed to be done. What Kimberly wanted to be done. That would pose a serious danger. Kimberly did not fancy the idea of counting on anyone but herself when the key moment came. She wanted total control of that eventual showdown. She wanted to be able to make Kris see what she had done, make her feel that helpless, that lost, make her understand just what she had stolen from Kimberly.

And then?

Time for that later. For now, they had to get moving. And then Bridget added her pledge to the mix. It was... well, it would have been sweet if it didn't piss Kimberly off. Bridget was getting good at that. She was going to follow Kimberly? Follow her everywhere she went? Like hell she would. No, Kimberly was already planning ways to get some personal space. She would be nobody's ward. It would be simple. Slip off at night, while the others slept, just for a little bit. Spend some time with herself and no one else.

She shifted a little. It felt like the stitching was done. She didn't want to see it. She wished her left arm would just disappear and stop bothering her, if it wasn't going to be useful. It certainly seemed like she'd never be using the limb again. And, just great, that was sure to mess up her guitar playing. Not that she'd ever get a chance again, most likely. Ugh. Not the time for those thoughts. Pull it together, sit up, and get moving soon. If they waited here much longer, someone was sure to find them. That, or Kimberly would just go crazy from the inactivity and take off.

"Hey," she said, "one of you... hand me my bags, okay? I need... a few things." She wanted to sort through it quickly, get what she needed, ditch what she didn't. There were a few items in particular she felt like she could use. Her weapon. Something to cover her arm. She felt exposed with the wound uncovered like it was. Weak. Easy prey. She'd be traveling light here, she realized. No other choice with her arm. Fucking Kris. She would pay for this. Each inconvenience, each trial and challenge to overcome, they all could be blamed on Kris. Revenge, when it came, would be so sweet. Speaking of, she should share her idea about finding help with the others, since there was at least one other person who would have reason to loathe Kris as much as Kimberly did.

"I think we should also find... Reiko," she added. "She'll probably want to help us, since Kris... killed her sister and all."

Though what Dutchy might have been up to gnawed at the back of her mind the entire time, Sarah had finished stitching Kimberly's arm back together, and began carefully threading the little piece of string back around itself. Knotting it a third time, she felt pretty confident the stitching would hold. Probably. Taking out one last antiseptic wipe, she cleaned around her neat little stitches, taking an odd sort of pride in her handiwork.

She looked at it a little longer before fishing out a bandage and covering it up, wrapping it over and under the arm. She thought momentarily of asking Kimberly to take her sweater off so she could better fix the bandage around her neck, but thought better of it. If it started slipping later she could do it then, maybe somewhere more private. She looked over her shoulder as she tied the bandage in place. Where the hell are they?

She nodded when Kimberly mentioned finding Reiko. Finding her girlfriend was always going to be a priority for her, obviously. And now more than ever she needed her help, her shoulder to cry on, though she knew Reiko was more than capable of looking after herself.

The next sentence killed her.

"Since Kris... killed her sister and all."

She looked into Kimberly's eyes, subconsciously waiting for the joke, the "just kidding!" that she needed to hear. But she knew it wasn't coming. What little hope she'd mustered drained out of her face and out of her mind as she began to choke up again. "n-n a-aa c-c-mna" She stuttered helplessly, trying to find words to deny with. She retched pathetically, feeling like she was going to vomit.

Reika had been her friend since the start of that year, and for the past couple of months they'd spent so much time together with Reiko and corny as it was she was starting to think of her as her sister too and... she was dead.

Sarah stared blankly at the ground, her whole body shaking. She couldn't be dead, that wasn't right it must have just been a mistake, how did Kimberly even know that? It had to just be some nasty rumour, something Kris had said to spite her or or...

No-one was meant to die, their school was better than that bullshit, none of them deserved it, and Reika deserved it least. She was the sweetest, nicest person in the whole fucking world and Kris had murdered her. She didn't deserve it. She didn't fucking DESERVE it.

She buried her face in her hands and pitched forward into the sand, curling into a tight little ball as she wailed herself hoarse and sobbed herself dry.

Dutchy's smile widened at Rolands' words as the pair began to make their way back up the beach towards Sarah and the others. He could feel the gears in his brain churning, he felt as if another genius breakthrough was only moments away.

This will work, they didn't expect that! Roland and Sarah, and everyone, EVERYONE is going to get out of here.

He bobbed his head as he walked, water still dripping from his blond hair.

"The way I see it, it's possible to google map everything. So I mean, an Island? No sweat! It'd be hard not to find it if they put enough manpower into it. Danya wouldn't give us an incorrect map, that'd be bad for his... his ratings. And I mean, the plants an' stuff! Surely the flowers and trees are specific to only a certain area. We should find someone smart with that, like Brooky! He could be able to tell us more. Já já já, this is going to work!"

This is going to WORK.

He scratched his head in thought as he continued towards the others. The wounded girl seemed to be moving now, and Dutchy was overjoyed. He felt his stomach churning at the thought of her wound, but he closed his eyes until the feeling subsided.

It's not like I have anything left to throw up anyways

"We should get something to eat soon! I kind of sorta' threw up earlier, sorry about that." He said, looking towards his companion. He paused for a second, before continuing.

"I just thought of another thing! These things.. the, the, collars.. speakers. They can hear us I bet. If we're going to get out of here, we need to do it without talking. If that makes any sense. Well, talking, but without talking. Góður, yes?"

You can do this Dutchy, you've done more than you would've thought you were capable of. You need to stay up, you need to keep calm, and keep YOURSELF, for them. The last thing they need is a sad Dutchy, and that's one thing you can make sure to avoid...

Suddenly, the world seemed to slow down. Ahead of the boys, Sarah fell down in the sand, curling into a ball and letting out a ghastly shriek. Dutchy's heart jumped out of his chest and suddenly he realized he was moving, running at a great speed towards his fallen friend, his fear of the other girls wounds forgotten. Sliding in the sand on his knees, Dutchy was mere inches from colliding with Sarah, the girl shook with her sobs and Dutchy felt himself begin to tremble, terror building within him.

Not again Dutchy, not again! Come on, come on stop this! Nei nei nei!

"Sarah! Sarah-, I'm here, I'm not gonna leave! It's alright, don't worry, you're safe! We're safe! Sarah, stop crying PLEASE, I can't stand to see you cry!"

What's happened? What the heck is happening, what's wrong!?

Dutchy felt a tear begin to leak out of his eye as he sat near the crying girl, trying in vain to cheer her up, his heart pounding with every wracking sob his friend made.

I can do this, I can help, I need to do this, I need to help...

((Dutchy continued in Dimer))

Bridget watched as everything seemed to start going to hell again. Sarah had finished treating Kimberly, which was great, but then she broke down into a tearful fit. She didn't know why, but the redhead couldn't exactly blame her. This whole situation was fucked up. At the same time, standing around and pitying themselves wasn't going to get them anywhere. Dutchy was trying to comfort Sarah, but he too looked on the verge of tears.

Now that she no longer needed to support Kimberly, Bridget was able to stand. She didn't know how long she'd been on the ground, but one of her legs had fallen asleep. The feeling slowly returned to her leg, and she winced as the pins and needles worked their way down the limb. Looking at her companions, she knew in her mind that nothing was going to get done unless someone made it happen.

"Alright, we need to get moving." Bridget said with all the authority she could muster in her voice. "I know things are tough, but we aren't going to get anything done by sitting here and pitying ourselves. Everyone grab your bags." walking over to Sarah, Bridget grasped under her arms firmly, and brought the sobbing girl to her feet. Leaning in towards her, she whispered in her ear so no one else could hear what she said. "You need to stay strong. People look up to you. If anyone can lead us to safety, it's you."

Pulling away from the girl, Bridget grabbed her belongings, pulling out her map and compass. She wasn't the greatest outdoorsman in the world, but it wasn't hard to determine where they were on the island. Kimberly needed to get better treatment, so the clinic was their best bet at that point. Once everyone had gathered their things, Bridget began to walk, finally leaving the beach. If she never returned again, it'd be too soon.

((Bridget Connolly continued in Dimer))

As Roland walked with Dutchy back down the beach to Sarah and the other two girls, he found it difficult to resist hyperventilating and generally panicking, especially with Dutchy's nattering voice excitedly discussing with him whatever parts of his plan he thought up at the moment. For the most part, Roland just responded by nodding and muttering generic agreement noises. The only thing he really reacted to was Dutchy's observation that there were microphones in the collars, so they shouldn't speak carelessly about their plans like Dutchy himself had been doing not five fucking minutes ago. "Yeah, definitely. Talking without talking. Let's do that."

Then Sarah collapsed and screamed, and Roland just about did the same damn thing. Everything was piling up too fast for him to deal with, and he didn't know what to do about any of it.

Well, he knew one thing had to happen. They had to get off this damn beach. He almost couldn't remember a time when they weren't on it. If he never saw it again, it'd be too soon. They'd been on the beach for an eternity. He reiterated the concept several times over in his mind as he ran with Dutchy towards Sarah.

Dutchy started to get upset about Sarah's condition, and for a moment Roland felt a little guilty about his annoyance at Dutchy's brief moment of hope. As false as that hope had turned out to be, it made Dutchy happy, had probably prolonged the fracture of his mind from all of the ugliness here on Hellmurder Island. Not that it mattered anymore. It was all gone now.

Then there was the other girl, the one who seemed perfectly alright. She got to her feet unsteadily and began to check her map and compass. She read his fucking mind. He checked himself to confirm that he had his daypack and harpoon with him still. Good.

She told everyone to get ready to leave, and started walking into the woods. He nodded to the rest of them and slowly followed her out.

((Roland Hayes continued in Dimer))

Out of nowhere, Sarah broke down completely. It left Kimberly confused for a second. Reika Ishida was dead. It bit, no denying it, but why the strong reaction? As far as Kimberly could remember, she'd never even heard of Reika and Sarah knowing each other. Then again, it wasn't like she was tied into the social doings of all of Bayview. Maybe Hermione would have heard.

Then it hit her. She remembered. She had seen Sarah with one of the Ishidas after all. Reiko, she thought. It had been at Prom. Kimberly had just caught the slightest glimpse of them, on her way out. She'd been trying to find Reika, actually, to determine whether her lunchroom matchmaking had been successful (though Kimberly had not seen Reika and Andrew at the dance, she had later been told that they had been dates, which had pleased her). She'd seen Sarah and presumably-Reiko at a table, chatting or something, and had made nothing of it. After all, people hung out with friends at Prom all the time.

If Sarah was friends with Reiko, though, it stood to reason that she'd have known Reika as well. Perhaps the dead Ishida had even been Sarah's better friend. There was no way of knowing now, not without prodding the emotional wound, exacerbating damage Kimberly had just inflicted.

She supposed she should probably feel bad about it. Springing a death so callously was certainly nothing to be proud of. She couldn't really bring herself to feel ashamed, though. If anything, it was almost nice. Even though it was accidental, even though it was hurtful, even though it was terrible, Kimberly was suddenly the strong one. The one in control. The one with the power. She had just surprised Sarah, the person who had held total custody over her very life for this past hour or so.

Still, it was probably only proper to be a little gracious, given everything, to not ask Sarah for details. Slowly, very, very slowly, Kimberly raised herself, first to her knees, then, unsteadily, to her feet. She had to stand still for a few seconds, regaining her balance, readjusting to the feeling of being vertically oriented. Every little movement was enough to set her newly-bandaged arm screaming in protest, but she managed to bite back any sounds of discomfort. The others already seemed to view her like some sort of sick, defenseless child, something to protect from the cruel, hard world. That was bullshit. She was still the equal of any of them. Hell, she was holding it together better than Sarah, their apparent leader.

And then, Bridget and Roland started off. Good. About damn time they got a move on. Bridget whispered something to Sarah. What it was didn't matter. With luck, it'd get the other girl moving. Kimberly had bigger things to focus on, cold though it sounded. To start with, she had some prioritizing to do, since she wasn't going to be carrying all her stuff away with her. Her hoodie was pretty well fucked beyond recognition, speckled in blood and short a sleeve, letting her uncomfortably thin and bandaged arm show through. It was a visual signal of weakness. She'd have to do something about it. There was no way she'd change in front of cameras, though. No way she'd try to pull her wounded arm through a sleeve even had internet voyeurism not been a concern.

She moved slowly to her bags, dug through them, dumping everything from her school bag except a spare t-shirt, for use as replacement bandages; her matches and cigarettes, in case she got a craving, though they were infrequent; her notebook and a pencil, for use tracking any vital information; and the black towel she had brought along. She'd been planning on taking showers on the camping trip. She hated feeling dirty. Now, that was the least of her problems.

She paused a second, then threw her deodorant into her provided pack anyways.

Towel. Cigarettes. Spare t-shirt. Grappling hook. Food. Water. Map. She threw out the guide to survival, kept what remained of her first aide kit, and was ready to go. Pulling herself to her feet again was an ordeal, with the bag over her right shoulder. Doing everything one-handed was going to fucking suck. Still, it could have been worse. One arm beat none. She started after the others, pausing as she reached Sarah.

"Thanks," she said. It was heartfelt. This girl had saved her life. Even if Kimberly hated and rejected any sense of obligation that entailed, on both of their parts, she could at least appreciate the gesture.

"We should go. Make sure nobody else has to deal with this. Pay Kris back. I guess you maybe have a reason to too."

And with that, she left the beach, following the others, hat shading her face from the bright light of the day.

((Kimberly Nguyen continued in This Scene Is About a Hat))

Sarah dug her hands into the sand, squeezing handfuls of the silicate as if she could extract escape from them if she tried hard enough. The granules stabbed at her palms, the force making it feel like her hands were burning. She needed to take her anger out on something, and she was the only thing she felt she could hurt. She screamed again, as much to cut at her throat as to express her pain. The force of it made her choke on her own breath, and as she coughed and spluttered she realised she couldn't keep screaming, and that left her with nothing to do but sob.

That someone was trying to cheer her up, that someone cared enough to try, only made her cry even more. But with her friend beside her she let the pressure go and stopped trying to torture herself. She appreciated Dutchy's effort, but she didn't want to be happy. She wasn't meant to be happy. She had failed, and though she knew it wasn't final, that she had to carry on, to continue, she didn't feel like she could will herself to stand.

She didn't have to. A force dragged her up by her arms from where she lay. She let Bridget give her back her footing, not willing herself to be heavier like she did as a child when she tantrummed. Like she probably would have if she'd tried a minute earlier. Then something unexpected happened, and Bridget was whispering in her ear.

"You need to stay strong. People look up to you. If anyone can lead us to safety, it's you."

Bridget's words startled her, abruptly ending her sobs. As the other girl stepped away Sarah looked at her for a moment before drying her tears on her sleeve. A weak smile fixed itself on her face as she sniffled. That someone had faith in her was more than she could have hoped for.

She could suddenly see exactly how much work lay ahead. She wiped her hands across her legs to clear away the sand. It was a start. If she couldn't save Reika, then she could at least make her proud.

Sarah offered Dutchy her hand and pulled him to his feet, gently hugging him once he was upright.

"Th-thank you for... for helping" she said softly. Dutchy's kindness seemed so necessary in the situation they were in, more than it ever had back at bayview, and she really appreciated it.

After a couple of seconds she relinquished and began moving to gather her bags. All the bags. The first aid kits she stuffed into her duffel bag, her backpack she crouched into and lifted with her legs. It wasn't really that heavy. It was full of books, clothes and other mostly useless but sentimental paraphernalia that she felt compelled to hang onto. She'd find somewhere to store it until they were free, the beach definitely wasn't the best location though.

She was just throwing her duffel bag over her shoulders when Kimberly stopped by her.

"Thanks,"

It... meant a lot to Sarah. She barely knew Kimberly, and knowing that she'd earned her appreciation made her feel as if she was already doing something useful. The words which followed took some of the warmth away from the sentiment for her though, and she felt her smile slip slightly, though it would soon return when she had a bit more time to think.

As much as she wanted an easy scapegoat she just couldn't bring herself to agree with Kimberly. Kris was probably just as scared as she was and... people could do stupid things when they were scared. Revenge was too simple, survival would be complicated. Survival would take all their effort.


But they were going to do it.


Sarah picked up the riot shield, sniffled again, and quickly set off after the others.


((Sarah Xu continued Elsewhere))

((Thread pretty much concluded.))