Survival Of The Fittest

((Jimmy Brennan continues from Final Third Foul

Jimmy Brennan couldn't remember the last time he'd slept. Passed out, yes. But slept? No. Not now, not ever again. As he trudged along through the forest, his muscles protesting with every achy movement, Jimmy struggled to remain upright and conscious. He'd been off the beach for only- what? An hour? Before he first collapsed. Jimmy didn't know why. He'd simply fallen down on the forest floor, unable and unwilling to move. Stars had floated about before his eyes, and he could feel himself loosing consciousness. He willed himself up, struggled with all his remaining might. But it was useless. With a final awkward jerking motion, Jimmy had effectively passed out from exhaustion in the dirt, where he would have remained had it not been the loudspeaker strategically planted in a tree just a few feet away.

He didn't know exactly how long he'd been hour for, but the voice from the speakers served to jolt him to near full awakened state, regardless of his fatigue. Danya. Another announcement. Rolling over in the grass, Jimmy for the first time surveyed his wounds. His clothes were damp, covered in mud and sand. The cut on his right foot had more or less healed over. His sweater was, underneath the dirt and grim, coated with Phillip's blood. Jimmy reeked of blood and sweat, and he felt as if he could vomit just from the smell. His face was bruised, puffed up and swollen from his severe beating. Jimmy wiped dried dirt and blood off his face, grimacing with every touch as he listened to the announcements.

It was surprising to say the least. Jimmy wondered how long he'd been out, how long since the last announcement. The list of the dead was almost staggering. Jimmy tried hard to remember the names, remember the faces. Samantha Ridley... second kill in a short span of time. The Fiametta boy had killed that mick-bastard Etain. Clio had killed again, same with Reiko and R.J. Carly-Jean... Jimmy nearly laughed. Someone had done in little petrified, terrified Carly-Jean Dooley. Served her right. A grin broke out across his battered face.

Karma, bitch. 'betcha regretting it all now?

Nestled, almost silently between two kills, was mention of him. Jimmy Brennan, the loser who turned things around. It was, if nothing else an apt description. Nevertheless he felt his hands ball into fists. Jimmy wasn't a loser, not anymore. Jimmy Fucking Brennan was a hero, he was the only one who deserved this game, deserved to win. It was time to prove it. No one was going to stop him, not the killers, not the innocents.

"Speaking of shiny weapons, Mr. Brennan, there's one waiting for you at the destroyed cell phone tower, which will be a temporary danger zone. Everyone be sure to stay away from the Destroyed Tower, the Inland Woods, the Fun Fair, and the Southern Cliffs."

Jimmy looked up at the loudspeaker, his mouth hanging open.

What...? What did he say?

The revelation made little sense. Why had he been given a weapon...? Why had he, out of all people, been given a chance? Hadn't Danya just called him a... a loser? And now, a shiny new toy to kill the girls and boys?

Jimmy staggered to his feet, grunting in pain. He didn't have supplies, he didn't have anything but the clothes on his back. But that wouldn't matter. His salvation was out there, waiting for him.

The Cell Tower. The Cell Tower, I can find that. I know where that is!

Jimmy hobbled off though the jungle, laughing crazily to himself. Karma. It was all karma, and he felt great.

----

Jimmy approached the cell tower, panting and spitting blood. Somewhere along the way, he'd become aware of a loose tooth, probably from a hit to the face. Either his own or a blow from Phil, it didn't matter. The tooth was ripped nearly completely from his gums, and not wanting to spend the rest of the game with a loose tooth, he'd taken a moment to yank it out. And so, spitting blood, his ribs on fire, Jimmy hobbled his way up the steep incline of the hill, towards the base of the cell tower. No one was around, or had been for quite some time. His collar wasn't beeping a good sign.

Fucking collar.. fucking game... I can't wait to get it off...

Making his way to the base of the hill, Jimmy stopped to catch his breath. Turning around he stared over the treetops before him. Somewhere out there, there were a million kids, all wanting him dead. Back home, Phillip Ward's family had a funeral to plan. The sun at his back, Jimmy laughed in glee. He was the king of the Island, and his new weapon was going to reinforce the fact. Turning around he scanned the area, looking for his promised prize.

Jimmy walked around the cell tower, growing more impatient by the second. Where was it? Where was his salvation? Had they lied? It didn't make any sense. Jimmy scanned the ground again, trying his best to locate the weapon. He began to panic. Why should he trust Danya? He'd called him a loser. The bastard. What if it was just a ruse? What if-

Jimmy's eyes bulged out of their sockets. He began to pant, rushing over towards the base of the tower. Partly obscured by brush, laying in the grass was a case. A large, metal case. With trembling hands, Jimmy sank to his knees. He was shaking like a leaf and he struggled to pry to case open. Loosing patience, Jimmy pulled off his gloves and breathed in deep. Calming himself, the grungy boy yanked open the top of the box.

A shotgun.

A prestige, mint condition, 'Don't fuck with me', bad ass to the core, motherfucking shotgun. Jimmy screamed with delight. It was too good to be true. For a split second, he was sure he was back on the beach, dead in the water at the hands of Phillip Ward. But no, it was all real, it was all true.

Jimmy pulled the gun out of the case, noticing a small place card. Picking it up, he read it outloud, giggling with delight.

"Heckler & Koch HK CAWS. Motherfucking twelve gauge. 10 round magazine, motherfucking semi-automatic SHOTGUN."

Giggling with delight, he raised the weighty weapon, looking down the sights. He twisted around, looking at the bushes nearby.

"Ch-chk! BLAM! Ch-chk! BLAM BLAM!"

Carefully, Jimmy placed the weapon down, examining the contents of the box. Two magazines. An instruction manual. An honest to god, motherfucking semi-automatic shotgun. He'd hit the jackpot, and hit it hard. Jimmy giggled with delight, stuffing the clips in his jean pockets. Carefully, he picked up the manual, skimming it over. He'd have to give the text a full look over.

Need to know how to use this badboy...hehehe

Jimmy stood up, his knees aching. He was hungry, starving. But it didn't matter. It was a perfect day. Jimmy turned, shotgun in hand to look out at the forest. He breathed out, peaceful. Suddenly, an idea came to him. A grin broke out on his face, Jimmy hobbled over towards the trees, looking around for the nearest camera.

Finally finding one, positioned halfway up a tree, Jimmy smiled and waved. Raising his weapon, he gestured towards it, struggling to withhold his laughter.

"Hey! You! I'm talkin' to YOU Danya! I know you're watching this. See what I got? See? Fuckin' beast, this puppy is... 's fuckin' awesome. You're looking out for me, you fucking bastard! Thanks for the boomstick! Now, I got somethin' I just wanna- wanna say. I dunno' if you can work it into your busy schedule, but fuck it. All you dicksucking island inhabitants out there. I just want you to know, I'm going to win this game. I killed Phillip Ward. I killed him, cold blood, straight up. I fucking enjoyed it too! I've got the brains, I got the balls and I got the gun! 'cus- 'cus I deserve it! You hear that? So all you fuckfaces who thought you could walk all over me, all you players out there, thinking you can cut your way outta' this mess. Max, fuckin' asian bitchdyke- I don't even know what the fuck your name is! I got news. You're all fuckin' done! Jimmy FUCKING Brennan is here and I'm not TAKING YOUR SHIT ANYMORE! I'll end you fucks, all you PUNKRATBASTARDS, who think you can score an easy kill! I'LL MAKE IT WORTH YOUR WHILE! SO COME ONE, COME ALL, COME AND TRY TO GET ME! TRY TO TAKE ME OUT, ALL OF YOU! SEE IF YOU GOT THE BALLS! YOU WANT A REAL CHALLENGE!? COME AND TRY TO FUCK WITH A REAL MAN THEN! I'LL END YOU! I'LL END YOU!!"

Craning his neck back, Jimmy let out a deranged laugh. He didn't know if Danya would forward his message. He didn't know if anyone would even want to accept his challenge. Who would want to tangle with Jimmy Brennan? Not anyone sane. He was hardcore, he was insane. He was a wild animal, and anyone near his cage was going to get their hand torn off. Stalking off down the hill, cradling his shotgun in his hands, Jimmy smiled.

He was a hero, and it was time to prove it.

((Jimmy Brennan continues in Beyond Awkward))