Survival Of The Fittest

((Debut of B013: Morgan Leftowitz))

When Morgan Leftowitz finally opened his eyes, he found himself having to shield his eyes from the sudden rush of sunlight. His head was pounding and it was difficult for him to turn onto his side let alone figure out where he was. The last thing he remembered was that he was travelling with his classmates for a camping trip and then everything else was a haze.

After several attempts to do so, Morgan was finally successful in turning over he saw a tan coloured backpack that he wasn't quite sure if he recognized it. Morgan tried to think back to if he had even owned a tan coloured backpack in his life, but his head buzzed if he lingered on trying to find an answer. He inched closer and closer to the backpack, trying not to move too much in the process until he was able to drag it over to him.

Morgan sat up, after several failed attempts, and then opened up the zipper. While a great deal of the stuff he had packed such as spare clothing, a bottle of sunscreen, a pack of playing cards and a case of loose leaf tea to go with it were inside. He was sure he didn't pack things like loaves of bread, a first aid kit and more than one bottle of water and he was missing the canteen for keeping his tea warm among other things.

He then reached inside and found a booklet. The cover read "Mr.Danya's Guide to Survival"...

Danya... Morgan had recognized that name from somewhere. He started to scratch the back of his head, trying to figure it out when he felt an itch on his neck. He started to feel around the area, he touched a metal piece to go entirely around his neck; it felt like a collar...

His eyes started to widen and he moved his hand away from his collar as if it was a bomb and returned his gaze to the booklet. As he flipped through the pages, his hands began to shake as the realization came to him.

"H-holy shit...I-I'm on Survival of the Fittest..."

He had heard about the show enough on the news and from his peers. He was never sure what to make of it was it some sort of reality show with a highly unusual ad campaign or if it really was some sick terrorist organization's idea of making a point...

Morgan's head had started to clear a little more from the fog that had hovered over him, but he still was unable to think straight now that he knew where he was. He wanted to find a way out of this but at the same time he remembered that he likely wasn't the only one here. It was likely his whole class might be here as well.

He tried to gain a bearing on his surroundings scanning the area in front of him as well as trying to find anyone out in the distance, but something caught his eye first.

Morgan got on his hands and knees and crawled to the object that had turned his attention away. It was a rifle. It had a smooth wooden finish that spawned forth a dark metal barrel, a bayonet fastened right bellow it and a leather belt attached to the handle of the gun, so that the user could sling it onto his or her shoulder. There was a slot in which a strip of ten slender bullets was placed into it, the rigid piece of metal restraining them from movement.

Morgan timidly reached for the gun, and prodded it like it could explode at any minute. When it did no such thing, he brought a hand to it, and gripped the frame dragging the but end towards his stomach. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with it now, he just kept staring at it like some alien device.

His thoughts lingered for a moment before he was brought back to the matter at hand. He placed the gun back down and made a slow attempt to stand up. He found himself staring at one massive grey building, he started to walk towards it as he did so he placed his hands over his mouth, forming a small cup around his lips.

"Hello," Morgan called out to the distance, "Is there anyone out there?"

G044 Start

Jen woke up with a massive hangover. She rolled over, her eyes shut, reaching out to see if she could hit her alarm and stop it from buzzing. As her arms flailed, she reached two conclusions simultaneously. One, that the buzzing was in her head, and two, that she was not in her bed.

Admittedly, neither of these experiences were at all new to her at all. What was, was that she wasn't expecting to be outside. She tried to think back to where she was supposed to be, and what had happened to her last night. She was on the bus for the Senior trip...

She bolted upright, eyes shooting open, and screamed to the high heavens. "FUUUUUCK". Survival of the Fittest. Kill or be killed. She'd seen the clips, never quite believed it to be real. Honestly, it had barely registered on her radar. As tears began to flow, she wished to Christ with all her might that it was a dream. That she would wake up and her mother would be standing there, telling her that she would miss the trip if she didn't go now.

After five minutes, she was exhausted. She had run through a number of scenarios in her head, and in every one she was killed by a classmate, in surprisingly brutal ways. And as tired as she was, as scared and upset she was, she felt another emotion beginning to stir inside her. Anger. But it wasn't directed outwards, but at herself. How dare she act like this? She was in a life and death situation, and she was crying? If her father ever found out, he would never forgive her for such a display of weakness. She wiped her eyes, and began to properly assess the situation.

She was in a lightly wooded area, with a large building dominating the view ahead of her. Good, that gave her a place to head to. Hopefully, most people would head towards large structures, and she would function better amongst people than she would on her own.

Next, take stock of what she had. Her own rucksack was gone, replaced by something in tan that did not go with her outfit at all. Oh well, that seemed inconsequential under the circumstances. She opened it, and looked inside. Thankfully, most of her own stuff seemed to be there; clothes, toiletries. Her phone was gone, as was much of her more expensive makeup. Whoever had been going through her bag and transferring over the contents had a good eye. At least they'd left her some basics, foundation, lipstick. She noticed a few candy bars as well. And, amazingly, a bottle of vodka that she'd secreted in her towels was similarly left unmolested.

The new equipment seemed basic. First Aid, water bottle. There was a book. She'd look at that later, when she had time. It couldn't be anything important. Stuffed in at the bottom was an expanse of white cloth. She didn't know quite what it was supposed to be, but figured it as part of the first aid kit, for making bandages or some such.

Stuffing the contents back inside haphazardly, she set out towards the building. It wouldn't be far at all. Maybe a few minutes at most. As she moved, she heard somebody yelling. Was that...? It couldn't be. It was. It was Morgan. Jen broke into a run towards where she thought the sound was coming from, yelling back at him. "High Pockets! It's Jen!"

Morgan waited, hoping for some sort of answer to his call. Minutes passed and nothing...

He sighed and turned back to his pack and rifle; he supposed that it would be better off to take what little food and extra clothing was left inside. He walk towards it, zipped it up and then looped it onto his shoulders.

Morgan's gaze then turned back to his weapon. He knew the point of this game, it was to kill your fellow students so that you could be free to live, but he hesitated to move towards it. He had never used a gun in his life, save for a game or two at the local laser tag and he wasn't even sure if he could even pull the trigger. The thought made him shiver internally at such thoughts and yet his arm still reached forwards for it. He struggled with himself for a minute before finding a reason to keep it around; he didn't think he could use it, but... he could bluff with it, when he thought about it, it was a rather convincing argument.

He clasped the butt of the gun and put the strap over his shoulder.

"High Pockets! It's Jen!"

Morgan's head perked up when he heard the voice call out to him and this caused a smile to appear on his face. There was only one person in the whole world that called him by the nickname.

"Jen!"

He rushed up to where he heard her reply. His best friend in childhood and well into high school was here! All rational thought escaped him as he now only wished to make it to his dear companion! He reached the corner of the warehouse and found a small wooded area, and from the bushes he saw Jen appear.

"Oh thank god," he said, panting already after running as fast as his legs would carry, "Thank god you're alive."

Morgan paused as he removed the rifle and propped it on the nearby wall. He then ran towards her, his arms outstretched, ready to embrace her in as big a hug as the giant could give her.

She ran into his open arms. The fact that, out of the entire class, he was the first that she met, gave her hope for the first time. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close, as she sobbed into his chest. "Please. Tell me it's really you."

That it was Morgan that she found was the one bright spot since waking up. It gave her so many more options, and so much less to hide. "I've been so scared." She could never have told that to anybody else. Not so openly, at least. No matter how obvious it may have been, she could never tell anyone what she was feeling. She lost count of how long she held him, barely saying a word, just feeling his warmth.

Eventually, she extricated herself from his arms, and looked up at him. She tried to smile, even though she must look awful. "Okay, High pockets." She ran her hand across her face, wiping her eyes and smearing her make-up. "Now what do we do? And if your next answer is 'Die', I'll kill you myself."

Morgan was relieved when he hugged the tiny girl, a task that proved awkward, but worth it. He held her as close to his chest as he could, gently patting her back in an attempt to console her as best he could. He stood there for minutes, which in his mind felt like hours, trying to find the right words to say that would make the situation better.

"It's ok Jen...it's really me...it's ok..."

When the two broke the hug he looked down on Jen and did his best to smile back at her. She certainly didn't look well, but at least she had calmed down a little.

His smile began to fade after she asked about what they were going to do now though. He moved back to where he had placed the gun and propped his back against the wall of the warehouse. By all accounts dying may be the only thing they were going to do. He didn't want to kill his fellow classmates and he was pretty sure that Jen had felt the same way as well...

"I dunno Jen...I'm trying to think of something...dying most certainly something I don't want to do..."

He leaned his head back and stared up at the sky, racking his brain as best he could in an attempt to wrap his brain around any idea he could think of. It was moments like these that he wished that whoever combed through his belongings, hadn't taken his tea canister away.

"I mean, maybe there is a way to get off this island," he mumbled, "That doesn't end up in everyone dying I mean..."

He looked down to his bag and started to rummage through it, grabbing a bottle of water. He took a swig out of it and sighed, screwing the cap back on.

"Well, I suppose the first thing we should do is check what we have I guess..." he took his weapon and placed it gingerly across his lap, smiling weakly, "Well...I've got a rifle to start with...spare clothing, tea, some food and water, first aid a map...what did you get?"

Jen was finally relaxed and comfortable. Just Morgan being there was reassuring that everything was going to be all right. She recognised that she was almost certainly deluding herself, but at the same time knew that Morgan would never hurt her. OK, so he may not have a plan at the moment, but give him time. She turned back to her bag.

"Pretty much the same. I didn't get a gun though. They took a lot of my make-up. I've still got clothes, food, my vodka, first aid kit and a bolt of cloth. White. I know it doesn't seem like much. They don't expect me to survive do they?"

She felt tears welling up in her eyes again, but forced them down. They would do no good. Firming her jaw, she looked up at her best friend, knowing that right now, all she could do was follow him.

"I see..." Morgan said, he had hoped that Jen had something to defend herself, but it seemed that he was out of luck, in that area.

When Jen asked her next question, Morgan turned his head down to the ground in front of him, his eyes narrowing. He didn't wish to answer her question, he didn't want to think about it. He turned back to his bag in an attempt to sway his thoughts into a more positive direction. He dug into it and found a copy of a map of the island.

He was able to discern that they were on the eastern part of the island, the warehouses, to be exact. To the west lay a beach as well as a small parish and to the south there was a larger residential area, there was even a mansion. It was further east though, that intrigued him more. He saw that there was a lighthouse up a large hill, and an idea started to form in his head.

Morgan placed the rifle back down besides him and he stood up. He ran away from the wall he was previously leaning on, still carrying the map with him before turning around. The boy looked up the sky and began to smile. Sure enough, out in the distance he found the top of what seemed to be a large tower.

"Hey Jen!" he called out, "Come check this out!"

Morgan was taking charge. Good. That meant that she didn't have to think, only to obey. The less she had to engage her brain, the less she would think about the whole situation. The vodka in her bag was becoming increasingly tempting, but she knew Morgan would never allow it. Not now, anyway. Maybe later, when they were safe, secure, hid away from danger. Then she could allow herself to forget, fully, even if only for one night. One last party.

Morgan was doing his best to survey the area, to find out where they were and where they could go. Of course he was. He had his head screwed on right. Not like her. She was going to pieces, and knew it. Everybody must know it. All the people at home, watching her. They'd see how much of a mess she was.

Fuck that for a laugh. From now on, she'd show them. All of them. She could stand a chance. With Morgan beside her, she could get off this place and get home safely. And then her career could really take off. She'd be famous, get roles in movies and – It was ridiculous. Might as well dream on.

Morgan finished his survey and called her over. Jen instantly jumped up and trotted over, eager to please him. "What is it Highpockets? You found something?"

Morgan began to fold up his map with one hand, while pointing up to in the distance.

"Do you see what I see?" he said inching closer towards her dropping down to be at her level. "It's a lighthouse!

"Now this map," he said waving the piece of paper in his hand, "Is nice and all, but it doesn't give us any real info you know what I mean? So I think our first step is to get to the top of this thing! I bet you anything that we'll be able to see the whole island from up there! Hell maybe even further! Maybe we can even contact someone from up there!"

As he continued his smile began to grow wider, it wasn't just a pipe dream now! There was a way out, he knew it! He knew he would find it up there, it was just a matter of getting there first!

"And once we find where we need to go...we'll make a bee-line and get the hell out of this place..."

And if someone is playing...

Morgan turned his head back to look at the gun. What if someone playing...He couldn't fathom someone that could actually do it, but then again...how many versions of this game have happened?

We'll cross that bridge when we get there...

"So...that's kinda the general idea Jen, I mean we should probably explore the warehouses first of course...maybe there is something in there, but after that, we are definitely getting to that lighthouse!"

He had a plan!

Jen had never been so happy. There was hope. A lighthouse. A way to see what else was out there. It wasn't much, but it was hope. Something that she desperately needed.

Morgan was so excited about it all, and his energy was infectious. She listened intently as he described the way that it would all play out. It was enough to make her believe that by some miracle it would all come true.

"Whatever you say. You're the guy with the gun" She was only half joking, but in saying that, she realised exactly how much power that Morgan held over her right there. Yes, he was her best and oldest friend, and she was sure that he would never use it against her, but still, it was interesting how he'd been given a chance over her.

Than again maybe the whole thing was random. She pushed the worries down to the back of her head, and began walking towards the warehouse. "Well, come on. This thing won't search itself!"

"Awesome," Morgan said, putting on his backpack and strapped his gun back over his shoulder.

The plan was set in motion now. It wasn't much of one, Morgan admitted to himself, but it was a small plan. It was like poker, he thought, most plans started out small, and built up into larger ones as they moved along. The lighthouse would be what turned this little plan, into the largest plan possible, at least that was what he hoped.

But for now, there was a quick pit stop.

He opened up the nearest door to the warehouse and walked inside. The room was huge, it's roof was very high, and there were boxes upon boxes standing up on each other, with only a little clearance between the two. Upon further inspection he saw that they all had a rather thick lock keeping whatever was inside well contained.

"Man, I don't think we're going to be able to get into these things." Morgan said, inspecting the lock itself. They all required some sort of key to get into and he didn't have any kind of lock-pick or some similar tool to break in that way. He took the butt of the gun and tried to break it by force, but it wasn't of any use.

He wandered around the large room and found that it was a virtual maze, with all the boxes being just like the ones he has looked at when he first got in. He shook his head and sighed. They were wasting time here and the longer they waited to get to the lighthouse the more likely it would be that they would find themselves in a dire situation with no escape possible.

"Hey Jen," he shouted over the boxes, hearing his voice echo of the ceiling, "There's just nothing here...I think we should get the hell out of here..."

OK, so the warehouse was a lot duller than she'd expected it to be. That was fair. She could use something a bit dull at this point. Still, for somebody who was trapped on an island where people were trying to kill her, she could have been paying more attention to what was going on around her and less to Morgan's tight little butt.

It was probably the stress of it all. And she was sure that he'd never go for it. Not now. But damn she was horny. And Morgan was just being so 'take charge'. It was a side of him that she wasn't used to seeing. One that she would like to see more of. A lot more of.

No. Stop that, Jen. There's camera's everywhere. She tried to concentrate more on what was happening here and now. The warehouse was a dead end. Nothing either of them could use, too open and unprotected to hold up in. Besides, Morgan wanted to get to the lighthouse. And Jen wasn't about to abandon him to go off and die by herself.

"Hey Jen, there's just nothing here...I think we should get the hell out of here..." His voice echoed over the boxes, making her feel even smaller in the massive room. She oriented herself.

"OK. Works for me." She walked back to the entrance, and waited for him to catch up before heading out to her best hope to get out of this alive.

((Jen Romita cont'd Elsewhere))

Morgan found him sighing at the fact that he wasted valuable time in looking around the maze of boxes. He hadn't expected much, but coming out with nothing was terrible. It was time to quit while he was ahead... and alive for that matter...

He wiped some of the sweat from his brow, finding the work, and the fact that he was wearing jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt. In hindsight, Morgan realized how stupid it was that he was wearing something so unfitting for a school trip. What he was wearing would have to wait for now though, he had a goal to accomplish!

He ran back to the entrance and found his companion happily awaiting her. He was thrilled that his best friend since way back when they were mere tots were together. Morgan and Jen had grown apart in interests, but they had done their best to stay together. They had shared classes together, they had shared tea(quite good tea, for the record) together and they shared secrets together.

Well, most of them that is...

Morgan had always been mum on one secret, however and it popped into his head as he looked down at his petite friend. In spending time with one another as often as they had, Morgan had been feeling a looming sensation over the years, occasionally causing him to feel rather stupid around her. This sensation though had never really been confronted though, as a combination of Jen being one to quickly rebound and him being a timid man led to him always stumbling at the finish line before he could spill it out.

He opened his mouth to say something, but found there was little to say. He just kinda stood there with his mouth agape for what felt like an hour before he found the words to say.

"Um...well...lets get going Jen..."

He tightened up the straps of his bag, and took hold of his rifle.

Still as cowardly as ever Morgan...

((Morgan Leftowitz continued in Jack Sparrow Irony))