Survival Of The Fittest

Bobby pulled back the bolt on his carbine, chambering the next round. It was an action he'd performed a fair number of times before now, and he was getting better and better at it all the time. In a firefight, being able to quickly prime the single shot carbine would be a lifesaver.

Well, ender, depending on how you look at things I suppose.

He was just about to pop out of cover to take a second shot when Neil Sinclair's voice rang out. That gave him pause. If somebody was speaking instead of shooting, perhaps this situation could be difused after all. Bobby remained behind the wall - he was hardly stupid enough to stick his head out and risk getting it taken off, but he kept an ear out to see what developments there would be.

Then another's voice sounded, and Bobby seethed at the insult to him. He wasn't truly riled, but more than a little annoyed. But then, getting shot at would do that do you.

"Your bad?" Bobby rumbled incredulously. "You shot me you son of a bitch!"

He paused for a few moments, gathering himself, his ribs aching from the impact of the bullets against his vest. That was one thing they left out of the movies: getting hit, even if you were wearing kevlar hurt like a bitch. Then again, he had to imagine his assailant was feeling worse, judging by the spray of blood which had kicked up when Bobby retaliated. Obviously he wasn't dead, but hurt sure enough.

"You know," Bobby said after a few seconds' silence. "I'm willing to break it off if he is. There's no need for this to escalate."

After all. Bobby thought bitterly. I only wanted to pass the fuck through.

Neil nodded to Matthew and said, "Now we wait to see what happens." Neil still was pressed flat against the barracks, his M16 against his chest, waiting to hear more gunshots. Though he heard nothing but the shooter saying he was sorry for shooting.

Idiot. This was solving nothing.

Neil was thankful though when Bobby said he was willing to break it off. If he was telling the truth then they could all finally go their seperate ways. Neil Sinclair shouted at Bobby, "Hey, if you want to move along, I won't shoot and I'll make sure none of my guys shoot. If Shane even thinks about shooting again we'll light him up!"

Neil wasn't telling the truth. Shane's intentions were good, but he needed better judgement. There was a time for violence and a time for negotiating. This was not a time for violence. Neil didn't want anyone else getting trigger happy though so he shouted out.

"Alright everyone! Cease fire! Go about your business! S.A.D.D, when this is over meet up in the barracks! That goes to anyone who wants to join up!"

Neil swallowed, trying to wet his dry throat. He needed a drink of water. He needed to sit down. After the incident at the lookout tower, he didn't want to have to deal with this. Any of this. He just wanted to rally his group back together.

Mark didn't even move. He just watched as the kid pulled out his gun, and fired at Jacks. He wanted to tell him not to, wanted to tell him that that would be one of the stupidest things he could do, but he couldn't even talk. He was paralyzed, already in fear from the anticipation of what would come from the gunshot.

Oddly enough, not much did happen. Mark had thought that a gunshot would have triggered a gunfight, but it didn't. All he heard was a shout from Jacks... and then a return shot. The boy was hit, and started bleeding, but it didn't look like too bad of a wound.

Mark then watched as the girl tackled him to the ground, shouting, and he shouted back at her, but he wasn't listening to them. He was listening to the people talking outside, Neil and Jacks. Jacks didn't appear to be too happy, and pretty pissed off at Shane, but he was still willing to back away.

Mark also heard Neil tell SADD to meet up, and also heard him extend his invitation to SADD. Mark listened, and thought. They were an armed group, and from what he heard, they were not playing, but actually seeking to find another way to escape. Their attempt at breaking cameras hadn't worked so well, but perhaps with Mark's help, they could come up with better ideas. And besides- this was the group he had been looking to join all along, wasn't it? A group of good people, who could protect him, that's what he wanted.

Mark grabbed the cot at the door, and began to push it away. It wasn't too hard to do, and he needed to get out of here soon. Who knew what the kid was gonna do next? And, now that he thought about it, he remembered what he had thought of before this whole shooting fiasco... Jonathan. Jonathan was outside the place, and he was armed. Badass Johnny would help him.

"I don't know what you guys are doing, but I'm leaving. I'm not going to be around people acting as crazy as you." he said, glaring at Shane. Trying to think of the girl's name, he came up with Denise. He turned to look at her, and began speaking.

"Denise, for your own safety, I'd get that gun away from him. It might just be the drugs, but... he's not thinking straight." He said no more, and just continued to push the cot away from the door.

********

Jonathan Lancer, diplomat extraordinaire. He thought he had made an impact... or would have, if that idiot hadn't decided to go all trigger-happy. Strangely enough, it had also given him a new respect for Jacks... any normal idiot would have assumed it was one of the SADD people with the guns pointed at him, but Jacks had actually waited. Considered. Evaluated the situation, and found the true source.

And Jacks had fired back, with quite good aim. Jonathan had heard the boy get hit, and heard him fall. The boy wasn't dead, no, but he was wounded. And Jonathan hoped that that wound would help him remember to steady his itchy trigger finger, the next time something like this happened.

Jonathan also listened as he heard signs of a scuffle, and he began to grow more angry at the kid. If he fought Mark... if he hurt him... but Jonathan's worries were put to rest when he heard Mark's voice, announcing he was leaving the barracks. That was excellent- outside, he could meet up and talk with Mark.

Jonathan held the shotgun at the ready, back against the wall of the barracks, and continued to wait.

Clunk! Clunk! Clunk!

Shane's head made hollow wooden noises on the floor.

Clunk! Clunk! Clunk!

Denise was still mightily pissed, and throttling Shane felt pretty good. However, she didn't want to hurt the poor slob (much), so when he asked her to let go she did...but not before slamming his head twice more into the floorboards.

Clunk! Clunk!

She let go of the collar of his shirt, and sat back on his chest, arms folded and disapproving.

"Dude..." she said, shaking her head. "Get your shit together! Jack's might be a murder, but fuckin'...there are a lot of guns out there, man." She pointed in the direction of the voices outside. "Do you want them turned on you? Use your head!"

What a buzz kill...

Denise crawled off of Shane, careful to stay out of sight from the people outside. She picked up her knife from where she'd dropped it when she ducked for cover. Mark began to speak.

"I don't know what you guys are doing, but I'm leaving. I'm not going to be around people acting as crazy as you." He then addressed Denise.

"Denise, for your own safety, I'd get that gun away from him. It might just be the drugs, but... he's not thinking straight."

She turned to look at Shane. He didn't look like he was in any hurry to shoot anyone at the moment. "I think he's okay now, actually. But seriously, Mark," she calmly put her left hand against the cot he was trying to move. "Be reasonable. Like I said, there are a lot of guns drawn out there, you might get hurt. Just wait it out in here until it's safe, okay?"

Now that she was a little more sober, Denise wondered what her inital issue was with Mark. He'd been helpful despite her being an asshole towards him, which earned him a bit of her respect.

"Please."

Throughout the standoff, Warren was wound like a clockwork soldier, pointing his gun unflinchingly at Bobby, then Shane, then Bobby again, before finally lowering it at Neil's request. He didn't dare test to see if his gun was loaded or try to talk things through or do much of anything. He couldn't even register what was being said, focusing instead on the sheer number of guns being brandished.

As tensions finally eased up, Warren let his arms drop and leaned against the side of the barracks. He still kept his eyes on Bobby, just in case he pulled a fast one, but it was more of a formality than anything else. After all, what could the man hope to accomplish by spraying bullets everywhere?

"So, we've all calmed down, then?" Quincy asked. He'd withdrawn his head to look at... his teammates? Technically, he'd never said that he'd sign up with them, but from the way Danya punished them on the announcements, they'd gotten closer to escaping than anyone from V1 had. Sure, their plan went bust, but none of the other groups had the chance to put their plans into action before they were broken apart by the players, and that was if they had even formulated a plan.

And even if nothing came of their escape attempts, Quincy could always use a meatshield. Or half a dozen of them.

"I don't give a fuck what you do, Mark," groaned Shane, rolling over. He crawled on his hands and knees to a corner of the room not visible from the window and sat down, clutching his side. The wound was just a graze, but it was bleeding a hell of a lot. Denise's lecture had sobered him up a bit, though. That asswipe must have been wearing a vest. Shane ejected the empty magazine from the Type 77 and loaded in a fresh one, then safetied and lowered it. He wasn't going to use it again any time soon if he could help it.

"Okay, you whiny cunt!" he shouted toward Bobby. "I'm not going to shoot you. But Neil! If you can hear me, I don't think his vest will stop a rifle! Come on, man, if you let him go, you'll regret it later!"

The moment gunshots rang out, Dennis was back inside, grabbing some ammo for the shotgun. As he struggled with loading it, there was all-new gunfire. He shook his head. This had gone to hell. After bullets stopped fitting, he figured it was loaded, and waited by the door for something else to happen.

And then the first shooter started apologizing. Dennis opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but was actually left speechless. This was a special kind of stupid. Neil started yelling for everyone to not shoot(Which everyone seemed to be doing(Or not doing) anyway), so Dennis craned his head around the corner of the door frame. Shooting had indeed stopped, although both of the shooters now had matching bullet wounds.

His mouth was open again, trying to find any words at all, but all he managed was "I...I don't...wha...", before giving up with an apathetic sigh. Unloading his bullets back into his bag, he pushed open the barracks door and looked outside at everyone. They were missing a few. And Hannah showed up, finally someone who's name he could remember off hand...and she was talking to her hat. Was this par for the course? He shrugged and accepted it anyway, weirder things had just happened. Dane was still missing, yay. And where the hell was Corbin, he was with Neil and Neil...oh SHIT. First casualty. Awesome. He shook his head. Hopefully Dane didn't get killed on the way too.

Someone was yelling again, trying to get Neil to start shooting. He almost doubled back for the ammo again, in case Neil agreed...then just waved his hand dismissively, turning away from everyone and heading back inside with a loud "Fuck shooting. It's too fucking early. Come back at noon." He turned back, adding an extra "Fuck." just for good measure. He collapsed onto a bed, letting the shotgun fall...somewhere. he didn't really care at the moment. Fucking Danya. He was gonna chase them around with those stupid danger zone things, at six in the god damn morning.

Bobby's eyes narrowed. First this guy had tried to shoot him, and now he was attempting to spark the gunfight which he had very nearly started already? Screw trying to kill the guy, he was going to beat the shit out of him. Still, Bobby swallowed back his irritation for the time being - he had to make sure that S.A.D.D got out of the way first, that would be courteous at least.

"Thanks Neil. I appreciate somebody being able to listen to reason for once. I mean, sure, you were quick to pull out your guns, but I suppose you were just trying to look after your people, so I don't have a problem with that. Water under the bridge. I'll move on... after I attend to something,"

Bobby stepped back through the broken barracks window and outside again. Almost inperceptibly, his hands tightened on the carbine he held. If the kid... did he hear somebody call him Shane? Got trigger happy again he wasn't going to be caught unawares a second time - no way in hell. The kid wasn't visible in the window anymore, so Bobby figured he'd gone to ground (and quite wisely too, in his opinion).

"You got a problem with me Shane? You want and turn something which could end peacefully into a gunfight, is that it? Sure, I killed a few people, but to tell you truthfully? Half of those have been self-defence, and after that? Well, let's just say people haven't really been willing to talk," Bobby swept an arm around, encompassing most of the people in the barracks. Even if the gesture was lost on Shane, the guys behind him would catch it. "If you want, I'm pretty sure this can get nasty, and hell, you'll get your wish: I've no illusions about myself. At these odds, anybody will go down. But how many will go down with me? As you yourself have seen I'm hardly a poor shot with this carbine, and I'm telling you now I won't go quietly. How many of these guys do you think will die just because you aren't willing to be diplomatic for once?"

The boxer paused momentarily, then stowed his carbine in favour of the SIG Sauer.

"So... I don't really want collateral here... so what do you say you and me settle this wild west style? You got a pistol, I have one too, seems to me we've got the makings of a gun duel, no?"

Which means I'm relying on either bluffing him out or being able to take him down within twenty shots with a gun I've never even fired. Well... there's no fun if there's no risk, eh? Better to offer him this than have him win over Neil and get a round planted in the back of my skull.

Shane smacked himself in the head. What the hell had he gotten himself into? His head was aching, his side was still bleeding, and he was still a little stoned. And this twat wanted a duel now.

"Bobby, I may be stupid, but I'm not fuckin' stupid. Get rid of that vest and maybe I'll think about it."

Shane took a good long look at the Type 77. What a piece of shit. Probably made out of soda cans by Chinese amputee orphans for 10 cents a day. He was lucky the goddamn thing hadn't jammed or exploded the last time he fired it. It wasn't much, but he'd have to rely on it.

"Too many motherfucking words!" Quincy hollered, suddenly breaking out of his calm and creepy demeanor. As much as he'd like to sit back and watch, the verbal jousting between Shane and Bobby grated on his nerves so much that they could be served as a spaghetti topping.

He stood up and walked up next to Warren, who stared at him uneasily. "You two wankers wanna get into a pissing match? Then do it somewhere else! Otherwise you'd better pack that shit in!"

Warren blinked. "Um, Quin-"

"Shut it, quarterman! I'll deal with you later!" Quincy turned to Bobby, unaware that the boxer had wounded him at the mess hall. "You say you don't want trouble, so why the hell are you still here? To get a piece of Captain Dipshit there?" He pointed his hand at Shane. "I hate him too, but it's not worth setting up this dueling bollocks just to get another kill. Just shoot him, dammit! Shoot him or let him go!"

He stepped forward and looked into the window. "As for you, your concern's touching, really it is, but have you seen how many guns we've got? We're well prepared for anyone with a weapon and a big ego on this rock, so if Mr. Jacks wants meat, he's getting metal. Hell, isn't there a girl in there with you? Don't you care about her getting caught in the crossfire? Obviously she does, or she wouldn't have beaten five kinds of shit out of you just now!"

He turned to Neil and jabbed his thumb at a farther away building, right above the one with the blood pool and further above the burnt building. "I'll be waiting over there. Let's meet up there once this whole thing blows over." He turned and walked away, into the other building.

Warren glanced between Quincy and Neil, then shrugged. "He's right," he admitted. "I'd better make sure he's ok." Then he followed his old friend away from the standoff point.

"Corbin's dead Dorian. Blood Boy got him. He fucking killed him. Just like that."

Dorian could barely hear Neil speak over the intense shouting, ranting and gunfire that had so quickly spread over the barracks, but he didn't need an essay to register what he'd just heard. Something about the way him, Matt and Dominica were acting had already given away Corbin's fate, and the blood on Neil's shirt served as one final bit of confirmation. Dorian was racked by both guilt and grief. The feeling was overwhelming, unlike anything else he'd experienced since his stay on the island began. If he had stayed back, would Corbin still be alive? Was he only the first of many of his friends...?

Dorian shook his head in a meager attempt to clear his thoughts. If he was going to survive, find Marnie, and save his friends, he couldn't afford to think like that. Despite the fact that Corbin's death plagued him with an unbearable amount of pressure, he had to find some way to keep the rest of his friends alive. Dorian wasn't going to let Corbin Arlen die in vain.

Removing the pepper spray from his pocket and clutching it tightly, Dorian made his way outside the barrack, unprepared for the sight that met his eyes. The majority of the exchanges between everyone that was present had escaped him while he was lost in thought, which was most likely why the sight of Matt pocketing a gun and Dominica training one towards other people stunned him. It didn't take him long to connect the dots, however. The remainder of SADD must have avenged Corbin's death and killed Blood Boy. That was one death on the island that Dorian wouldn't be feeling bad about anytime soon.

Almost as soon as he'd walked outside, absorbing the fact that everyone had firearms trained on each other, he realized that he was mostly useless for now. His weapon wouldn't provide much leverage either way, so he returned back to the barrack he'd hoisted Ivan into, peeking outside the window occasionally to make sure nothing of interest escaped him. Dorian gave Ivan a once-over; there were bags under his eyes, and his hair was disheveled and matted from the rain. In short, he looked like hell.

Deciding that it was the best thing he could do for the moment, Dorian took a seat beside Ivan, resolving himself to take care of him until he'd regained his strength. In the meantime he removed a bottle of water and a tin of crackers from his daypack and began to indulge himself.

Neil heard Bobby ask Shane for a duel.

It was all stupid. This whole situation. Bobby was a killer, and Neil should want to kill him. He did want to kill him. Shane was just stupid, and didn't need to be here either. Though, a gunfight wasn't what Neil wanted right now, and he was content to let Bobby leave or have his duel with Shane, as long as he left everyone else alone.

Neil only had one job right now, and that was to protect his group. He needed to get S.A.D.D to safety to come up with a new plan of escape. He couldn't turn into a vigilante now. Not after what happened at the lookout tower. Neil couldn't bare to watch more of his friends die. He wouldn't be responsible for it. So he did what he had to do.

Maybe it wasn't the best or most heroic thing, but it was what would keep the most people alive. He shouted to Bobby, "You can duel him if he agrees to it, if not, just go. I don't want a shootout and neither do you because it will end badly for everyone. Once bullets start flying it's a lose lose situation and you out of all people should know that."

Neil watched as Quincy and Warren went to another barracks.

Ok S.A.D.D, it's time to move on

Neil shouted to everyone else, "S.A.D.D or anyone who wants in, follow me! If you can't see me, then start going through barracks until you find my group. Don't even think about coming in and starting a fight, cause we're well armed."

With that, Neil motioned towards Dominica and Matthew to follow him and he moved in a crouch towards the barracks that the other two went to.

Finally he would be getting out of this madness.

(Dane Zygmunt continued from ‘A View to Kill')

Dane felt as though he had been walking for hours. After his hasty exit from the Lookout Tower he felt as though he had been walking in circles. Dane had never been good with maps and now he was separated from SADD desperately hoping none of them had been hurt in the gunfire he'd heard as he ran through the forest. He was praying that he wouldn't stumble upon another group, a group more violent or perhaps a group looking to avenge the deaths SADD has caused.

Dane sat on a rock and looked at his map and took out his compass. He was definitely lost. The route he had planned so quickly as he retreated for the Lookout Tower was leading him in circles, Dane wanted nothing more than to find the Barracks, dry off and get some sleep. He tried not to think about it but he hadn't slept for days and couldn't help but think that was to blame for his current predicament. Dane sighed, his whole head felt fuzzy but had to soldier on. He stood up and started on his journey again. Then he saw it, the Barracks, a cluster of plain grey buildings, Dane couldn't help but smile at the sight of them. He headed towards them cautiously aware that SADD might not be alone, then he heard Neil's voice and followed it. He pushed open the door of the Barracks and looked around, it was SADD!

"Hi guys!" Dane was relieved that he's found them, "What have I missed?"

A fight was inveitable. Dominica knew this quite well, and she was perfectly fine with the both of them killing each other. Two less people to worry about, that was how she saw it. However... there was a tiny feeling of doubt, a tiny feeling of wanting no one to get hurt. Caring. How strange that all it took was a bullet in the shoulder to make you think differently of the world. She frowned, her hand trembling against the Taurus Millenimum. She had to calm the situation down, but how could she without resulting to violence herself? She rubbed her temple with the butt of the gun (in hindsight, it probably wasn't the best decision) and sighed loudly.

Then she threw her pistol in the air and fired a round off.

"Listen." She said, quite loudly if only to get her point across. "All of this is getting rather unnecessary. Under normal circumstance I wouldn't care whether the either of you killed the other but..." she sighed for a second time. "I DON'T want anything happening. I... We... Neil, Matthew and me just came from something huge, and we arrived here to get away from violence. Jacks, just leave. I don't care about your sins, I don't care if you've killed people, but if you're going to start something with this boy then you need to leave. If you want to pass like you say, then pass by. It's no concern of mine."

Yes, and if that other kid decides to take matters into his hands again, I won't be so peaceful with him. And how the hell did he know Jacks was wearing a vest?

Dominica looked at Dane for a moment, rolling her eyes. "Wha... are you kidding? Jacks is out there, and you're standing out like a..." She shook her head, rubbing her temple again. "N-Never mind. Come on, just follow Neil and me."

She followed after Neil, peaking her head inside the barracks. "This place isn't safe. We have to get to somewhere else. At least at the lookout tower we..." No, wait, that wasn't what I wanted to say. "What I MEAN is that this place is way too open. If we get to a more secluded place, maybe we'll be able to speak without anyone with a large gun wandering in."

Any fear that Hannah felt up to this point was slowly giving way to irritation. It was obvious that Bobby wasn't looking for a fight (and if he was, it was clearly suicide) and yet Shane insisted on trying to provoke this standoff into a full-on battle. Finally, she heard Quincy tell off Shane and Bobby, trying to bring some order to this madness. She had to admit, if she was in his place, she probably would've done the same thing.

As she heard Neil call out to SADD and the potential recruits, Hannah quickly got up and grabbed her duffel bag (she was just about to grab her "weapon", but finally told herself to stop kidding herself and left it), passing by Dorian as he walked back in. Catching a glimpse of Neil just long enough to see where he went, she took a deep breath and sprinted to the barracks building SADD was gathering, not wanting to be out from under cover any longer than she had to be.