Survival Of The Fittest

((Continued from: On the Run))

Hawley had forced himself to run intill he no longer heard the roar of the flames, or the sounds of people following behind. Slowing down into a slow jog, which soon gave way to an even slower walk Hawley took a moment to gather his breath, and glance over to Adam as he once again rose his map.

This whole ‘being shot at’ deal was becoming a tad bit annoying, namely when it happens not even half-an-hour apart he making a quick mental note that he hoped someone would put a bullet between both Uriel, and Jacob’s eyes. Making quick notes on his map both about the fire in the coppice, the new danger zones, and the warning about the school building Hawley took a moment to look up from his work.

Glancing about the area, he blinked lightly taking note that the place had an odd familiarity about it before looking down to the map he took note why… This area was close to the house that Terry and August had been staying in when he had first ran across them.

If they continued on where they where going they should make to the location within a few minutes, “There’s a building near here.” He muttered still trying to regain his breathing as he glanced toward Adam. “Want to head there? It would be a good place to rest…”

((Continued from: On the Run))

As Hawley came to a stop and attempted to regain his breath, Adam as well stopped beside him, chest pounding as he came to a stop. He placed his pack down and took that moment to extract some shells from his bag and reload the gun completely. With the way things were going, he had no idea if he'd need it or not. As he loaded the gun, he cursed silently - he'd lost his Leafs jersey. In school, back in the real world, he'd always been known for his hockey jerseys, having eleven in his collection. Sadly, it seemed, there would now be ten to his name.

Such a thing to worry about in a time like this...

Looking over at Hawley, he nodded as his friend suggested the nearby house. Sitting down for a second without worrying about flying bullets might be good, at least for now. Something else, however, tugged at his mind, as he remembered who he had picked up along the way out of the school...

Turning around, he looked at River, and flashed the other guy a grin. Almost out of breath, he greeted the new arrival.

"River...how's it going, man? Nothing like being shot at to start your day, huh?"

He nodded his head at the bloodstained Hawley.

"Hey, guys...I don't know if you know each other...River Garraty, meet Hawley Faust. River's a buddy of mine from the hockey team..."

Hawley rose a hand in silent greeting, eyeing the blood that had travled down from the bullet wound and quickly dropped it back to his side, lightly remembering Adam speaking of River when they had been talking at the lighthouse. “Nothing wakes you up like almost being killed.”

Lifting up his map again he glanced it over once more, taking in a breath and began walking at a steady pace. Now that he indeed didn't have to worry about being shot at, he enjoyed going at a pace that wouldn't bother his wounds.

(Coming from: On the Run)

River came to a stop, panting from running so much, and also from the heat of the fire. What he saw was a small house, it was odd to see one house there all by itself. Much to River's relif, he caught up to Adam and...Hawley, was it? Yeah, that's it. He'd never really got to know Hawley, though he was in a class or two with him.

"Yeah, lucky that woke me up though, or else I mighta slept while that entire damn bulding burned down. My mom was right, I do sleep like a log." he said, grinning, "But that wasn't actually the start of my day, my day started by finding out the jerks expect me to fight with a damn toy."

He pulled his plastic hemmer out of his bag and dropped it back in casually, he wasn't even sure why he was keeping it, but he might find a use sometime, "I'd be better of fighting with my fists. So what'd they stick you guys with?"

River hoped that one of them would have something good, the entire group couldn't be defenseless.

Adam casually held up the shotgun and watched River's eyes grow. In response, he grinned.

"This little toy here, well...this started out being Hawley's. I ended up with a pistol which Hawley now has, because he can't handle this anymore. If you'll notice, he's a little the worse for wear. Speaking of that, you holding up okay, man?"

Adam sighed. He hated this game more than anything, and seeing his friends and classmates here was really getting to him. As it stood now, he came across the realization that next year, the hockey team'd probably be without two thirds of it's first forward line, a couple of its student council members, the editor of the school newspa-

No!! He wouldn't, COULDN'T allow himself to think like that. He would find a way out. Even if it were just him, Hawley and River, he would find a way that at least the three of them could and would survive. He hadn't had time to think about even trying to figure it out, but hopefully when they reached this house, they could come up with something.

Adam refused to lose hope, knowing it was probably the only thing keeping him going.

"Fear will hold you prisoner...but hope will set you free..."

He mutters this, as his gaze goes to the ground. He shakes hie head and smiles again, although his smile doesn't have that same lustre to it.

Hawley took a glance back over his shoulder, smiling lightly with a nod. "I’m still holding up okay.” He mused, facing forward as he leaned his head back some while he walked. He had found himself doing that a lot now watching the sky, taking note of some of the birds that flew over head.

Watching those birds somewhat boosted the thoughts of getting off the island, though of course the question of ‘And how the hell do you plan that?’ came over him more than once. By what the manual had said the island was guarded 24/7 and truthfully there would only be two ways off an island to start with.

One of course, by water… last he checked no one on this island where part-fish and could swim that far to try and find land, and the whole being guarded fact was another point to the matter. The second choice was by air, and well none of the students could fly and he highly doubted anyone could build something to do something like that.

But everything came crashing back to the collars; these things that branded them could kill them with just the push of a button. And if August hadn’t already been dying from her bullet wound he gave her, the whole collar exploding deal would have probably done her in anyway.

Feeling his foot catch something almost sending himself falling face first against the ground if he hadn’t caught onto the bloody tree whose roots where the cause of the most recent issue, though it allowed him to take in the fact that they had arrived at the small house.

Everything about it was quiet… the front door lay half open, the window he had blown out with his shotgun was now covered in what seemed to be a sheet of sorts. Though the once white fabric was dyed a pinkish-red in dry blood, Hawley overlooking this before pushing himself up right and moving toward the location in question.

Adam watched Hawley approach the house, and thought to himself - even though there's no sound doesn't mean there aren't any people around.

Even still, hoping not to break their cover, Adam couldn't help but singing softly a song that came to mind, under his breath. He was kind of frightened as the lyrics that came out of his mouth reminded him a bit of his current predicament. Regardless, he pressed on...

"When I first came to this island...that I called by my own name, I was happy in this fortress, in my exile I remained...but the hours grew so empty, and the ocean sent her waves...in the figure...of a woman, and she pulled me...out to sea..."

Adam couldn't help but think it. He was a smart guy, and if anyone could do it, he could.

If I don't find us a way off, we're all fucked.

Approaching the half open door lightly, he moved one hand back to grip at the gun resting in his back pocket the other pushing the door open till it caught something and was unable to open any move. Fully taking the gun out, he pulled it before him as he peered into the small house.

Taking note that indeed no one was here… besides the brightly colored pink and white book bag lying on the dirty ground with the name ‘August’ sewn out across the top of the bag in cursive. Sighing, and dropping his aim pushing the gun back into his pocket he over looked the other two lightly.

“This place is empty – I don’t think anyone’s been here since August and Terry left.” He muttered, though in truth would rather not have mentioned their names at all.

Adam relaxed instantly, as truth be told, he hadn't had a break in some time. Stepping up to the door, he let his eyes run over the interior of the house. It was obviously fairly run-down, but it was shelter, and there was no one trying to kill them at this point.

A welcome change... Adam thought as he stepped into the house.

Hawley followed along into the single roomed house, lightly eyeing the table that Terry had probably been using to block the door lying close to the said door. For such a run down place, it was somewhat cleaned. Three chairs sitting near the windows, a fourth lying destroyed in the corner.

Some glass from the window still remained on the floor which he took note was also covered in covered in spots of dry blood here and there. A small alcove off to the side of the house lead into what seemed to be a kitchen. Drawers and cabinets closed a tin can and a small bottle lying on the counter-top.

Allowing a loud sigh to escape his lips Hawley let the large daypack fall off his shoulder and onto the ground, he falling back against one of the walls over a clean spot of carpet and sliding down into a sitting position. His left leg curled under his right, as it lay straight out before him, both arms where pitifully lying on his side as he closed his eyes somewhat.

It felt so good to just to be able to sit down and rest… though the pain from the bullet wound in his arm reminded him that he should probably take care of that in a minute though he just felt like resting for the moment.

Adam saw a chair staring at him like it were eternal salvation. He'd been dying to sit down for quite awhile, and as he collapsed into the chair, he sighed. Running for his life hadn't been his idea of fun, not cool at all. In fact, rather exhausting. As he sat in the chair however, his mind fired on all cylinders. What they needed was a plan of action, some way to get the collars off. If they could do that, they were MORE than okay.

But doing that...

Well, it could prove impossible.

Sitting up somewhat he pulled his daypack in front of him, unzipping and digging through the stuff there… after a moment bringing out a clean shirt and one of the first kid kits he had with him. Peeling off both shirts from about his form, over looking all the wounds on him noting that these would add more scars to add to the old ones, if he lived long enough for them to become scars.

Pulling on a much cleaner shirt he used one of the old ones to wipe off all the blood that had coated his arm over the time since he had been shot. Lightly patting at the wound as he worked at undoing the bandages and putting one end in his mouth as he begun trying to work it about his arm.

Trying being the keyword there.

After a moment Hawley let a low growl of frustration. “Oi.” He muttered the end of the bandage still in his mouth. “Do you one of you mind helping, I can’t quite get this right on my own…”

Having being lost in his thoughts, Adam hardly heard Hawley's request. He did, however, realize that the other boy had spoken, and he shook his head a little as he looked over at him trying to undo the bandage. Adam surmised that it was likely Hawley was asking for some assistance. Rising from the chair, leaving the shotgun propped up against it, he wandered somewhat aimlessly over and stood over Hawley.

"What'cha need, man?"

Hawley glanced upward at the figure standing over him, blinking somewhat. "I need --" He said in a muffed tone through the bandage, frowning he allowed the small piece to drop from his mouth.

"I need help getting my gunshot wound bandaged, was wondering if one of you could help out." He said, eyes drifting off to the side. He was never one to ask for help, having grown up doing most things for himself... asking for help he almost was as a weakness of sorts.

River was currently lost in his thoughts. Both of them had guns, that was good, though he didn't much like being the weakest link. Though, if someone is bothering themm, they could just shoot whoever it is and River could take their...no, wait. That was a horrid thing to think. Then again, if those people at the school showed up again, they might have to kill someone. Kill or be killed, that's what this game is, isn't it? It was kind of hard to see some of his classmates go crazy, or hear their names on the announcements, even the ones he really didn't like. Dand, just a day ago he never dreamed he would be in this situation. The only thing to do now was suck it up and try to find a way out.

He noticed Hawley trying to do something inside the house, and for the first time noted that he had a bullet wound. He was wounded already? Not a good sign. He looked like he was doing okay, though.

"What happened?" River asked, "Do ya need any help?"