Survival Of The Fittest

((Rutherford "R.J." Roger Jr.: B032 -V5- Continued From Broken Down))

Hoodie, socks, and shoes put to the side near his bag, R.J. sat down and let the ocean bathe his feet. Breathing in and out slowly, he questioned himself on what he should do after this. It was getting late, evident by what few stars he could now see and the now beautiful pink and orange sky. Maybe he would camp out here tonight and test if he would wake up the next morning. The sparkly sand was actually very comfy and wouldn't be a bad place to sleep, in the same strange way that a gymnasium floor was, like the overnight events at school with the baseball team. Besides, worst case scenario was he would get his head blown off because none of his classmates killed anybody.

...

Maybe that was the best case scenario. He hadn't seen any dead bodies yet, during all the time he spent running here. That was nice, but it still didn't help his attempt to live. R.J. remembered the ambush attempted earlier on him. He could have been killed or mugged and then killed. R.J. completely ignored anyone he spotted from then on as he traveled here. Didn't even give them a second glance. He was too scared to just go up and greet them and be happy that they were alive. Thinking about it, he maybe only saw a number of classmates that could be counted by finger-digits. It seemed so few, he wondered how many were hiding or hurt.

"I messed up bad...I could have said 'hi' or something..."

R.J. pondered on what to do. On one hand, they were his friends and classmates. On the other, three of his classmates had already tried to gang up on him. He knew they hadn't all gone psycho...yet. He also thought about how his real friends could be in trouble right now, maybe even already in pain. No one should have to go through this. He was going to make up for ignoring all those few people.

"Yeah yeah...I will talk to the next person who comes along..."

With that, he zipped his jacket back on and flipped the hood, and placed his head down on the sand. Looking up at the darkening sky, he pulled his duffel bag closer to him, unzipped with gun still inside. Just in case that next person that came along was anything like Maylerd and his group.

Then they could say hello to MAT.

B060 - Start

Matthew Young was going to die on the island.

That was what he had decided. Not through any secret hope or desire, of course. Life was a good thing. A precious thing. But there were things worth more than life, infinitely more. No reasonable person would throw it all away just because their death happened to be slotted in a bit earlier than they'd hoped. Well, that wasn't entirely fair. There was a grim sort of practicality to account for, a simple change of perspective that would upset the ranking of one's priorities. He knew people would fall into it before the end, and he couldn't say none of it made sense given the circumstances. He just wished sometimes people would stop being so darned shortsighted.

And so he stood, watching the darkening tide move its mark up and down the edge of the sand. He couldn't say the ocean was his favorite part of nature. Really, it mostly just smelled like dead fish and rotting seaweed and pounded your ears if you tried to sleep anywhere near it. But it wasn't too bad to look over sometimes. It was so smooth and featureless, a perfect stage for his mind to run wild upon. So wide and vast, with no walls or barriers in evidence to constrain his thoughts. The same ocean lapped against shores all across the world, wound its way into Puget Sound, bordered so many thousands of miles of beach not home to the condemned, to people who weren't standing so serenely to mask the terror building in their chest.

He moved again, glancing briefly back at the shallow divots he'd tracked across the sand. He really ought to have prepared for nightfall before it came, he thought, but even with that neglected he doubted the night ahead would break his top ten most miserable. Or, he thought with a nervous sort of smile, his most dangerous. This time was a bit different, of course - it wouldn't be his own or his troop's doing, for one. Things did have that extra edge of fun when you were huddled in a trench in the snow on Hurricane Ridge with the knowledge that the situation, if not the exact circumstances, was all laid out ahead of time.

There was one thing he missed, though. Not a single soul had shown itself since he'd awoken. He wasn't sure whether to be grateful or terrified. Nobody had attempted to murder him, sure, but there was safety in numbers. As far as that mattered. Comfort in numbers - that would be enough. Someone to commiserate with and show the stupid ipod he'd gotten and huddle against the night and the night's terrors with and maybe, just maybe, dare to think of the long-term, of how to hold out against the tide of murder until the rescue came. If a rescue ever came, he reminded himself, because he couldn't bear to live on false hope.

He put his head down and wandered on, cut against the emptiness of the sea and the sky.

R.J. was rustling about on the ground, though not because he was uncomfortable. As he had thought, the sand felt nice and soft and was also surprisingly cool. But he still couldn't rest, even though he was so warn out from running all the way here. There were too many things that were still on his mind, which was understandable given the situation. Rolling up his jeans to just below his knee, he started walking in the shallow beginnings of the ocean.

Maybe some pacing back and forth would tire him. It wasn't like R.J. could do much else, and he knew that. He thought about going out and looking for people, but it was already too late, he figured. Besides, if anybody was even near him, they'd probably be huddled up in a house somewhere and wouldn't let anyone in. Like he thought he should have done.

"Guess it's a solo act tonight."

Kicking the water surrounding him, R.J. circled his head and let his eyes gaze the area. It really was pretty, and he'd enjoy it more if he didn't know he could die here. Right now at this second. It could come at any moment, maybe even from that person way back in the distance walking towards him.

R.J looked at the figure, now surprised that another was actually still outside. Oh well, it was somebody. Somebody he hoped wasn't Natasha or any of them. Even putting his glasses on didn't help with distinguishing the stranger. Taking a gamble, he waved his arm facing the ocean, fast enough to be noticeable, slow enough to not look like a spaz.

"Please, please be someone who doesn't want to mug me."

Matthew pressed on aimlessly. Another something, or rather someone, caught his eye against the flat landscape. Another warm body on the beach, then. He looked up in acknowledgement, set his course directly for them. Murderer or innocent, he didn't much care at the moment. A bit of talking would do them both so much good. Get through the shock, anger, grief and whatnot, figure out what their strategy was for making it out alive. He knew how group dynamics worked, how things went pear-shaped easily enough without the stress and paranoia of the island, but maybe they even might be able to keep each other safe and sane, at least for a time. That was thinking a bit far ahead, though, as he might well leave his mortal body behind with a brand new bullet hole for the audacity of approaching them.

A friendly wave. That was nice. He probably wasn't going to get murdered, then, though it was hard to tell. Really, no matter how the figure in the middle distance acted, it wasn't likely they'd have the guts for out-and-out slaughter, at least not yet. Someone would, though, and his heart sank at the thought. How anyone could stoop to that - well, he wasn't really surprised at the way the darker urges of mankind shone through, but he'd never fully understand the mindset. Playing with fire seemed to be an excellent way to get yourself burned.

He was close enough now for his words to be heard. That awkward middle distance, where it seemed to rude to yell, but it also felt weird just plodding silently toward someone you were clearly in shouting distance of.

"Ey! What brings you to the beach on this crappy day?"

The figure was coming closer, obviously a guy as they became visible. R.J. kept his wave going, slowing it down as the other boy shortened the distance between them. The distance, while not far, made R.J. feel lazy letting the guy do all the walking, so he moved forward as well. R.J. was grateful to see someone not holding a dangerous weapon and not trying to harm him. For now anyway. But for now was pretty good. Maybe his Mom was right about focusing on the present, instead of day dreaming into the future. Too many variables for the future for now.

The face itself was good to see. What came out of it made R.J. want to punch it, however.

"Oh, ya know, just fuckin' hangin out on killthemall island what the hell do you mean what brings me here."

R.J. wrapped a lock of hair around his thumb. It was probably the ambushing and the ultra tense feeling of the island making R.J. think all testy-like. The guy was probably trying to be friendly. It came off as like he didn't care about the situation they were in, but it seemed friendly. Who knows, maybe this guy dealt with this kind of pressure better then R.J. did. A lot and worryingly better.

Once a non-shouting distance away, R.J. spoke back to the guy.

"I-a...I...Um, I...I'm just really tired, is all, nothin' much. You?"

Emily Rose continued from Nacer

Emily stopped to brush a lock of sweaty hair out her eyes. She overbalanced as the weight of the light slung across her back moved. She gave the light a look of utter disgust, a part of her was unsure why she even kept it around. However, she found it oddly comforting and was unwilling to get rid of a potential asset. As she brushed herself off she decided to take stock of the situation and rest. In short she didn't like it. She was unarmed, hindered, had no allies and was miles away from home, it didn't look good.

Genuine fear gripped her as she looked out. She had followed the path along the coast and now saw herself at the end of the road. Looking out to sea she felt genuine separation from everything she held dear. She desperately tried to calm herself, telling herself that she would survive those other kids survived and so would she. No one would play, these were her friends people she had known for years they weren't faceless killers. After a few minutes she felt more calm. To an extent the beach itself calmed her, its picture postcard beauty making the situation feel even more surreal. The place was a haven no one was going to die here.

She found herself approaching the beach almost on auto pilot, lost in her thoughts. She was driven out her head by the sound of nearby voices. She froze, trying to decide her next action. It was too late to retreat she would just look suspicious. Time to grin and bear it. Neither seemed hostile instead they seemed to be confirming her theory. However, if they hadn't spotted her she didn't want to surprise them and risk being attacked. As she reached the beach proper she felt a wave of tiredness. She kicked her shoes off and threw her bag to the side, before resting on it.

She tried not to think about how last time she was on a beach it had been a beach soccer tournament on holiday in rather happier circumstances.

So his new companion, who Matthew pinned down as one RJ, was friendly through and through. Good. Not that he expected otherwise, but it was always a possibility. A possibility, he reflected, that you couldn't eliminate. Normally things worked out well enough. Pack your extra food and socks and knife, take all the precautions in bear country or what have you. But sooner or later - that wasn't really important, though, was it? It wasn't now and it wasn't eternity, and who really needed to dwell on what form the transition came in.

He noted RJ's reponse, gave a halfhearted shrug. "Just wandering, really." That was the truth and nothing but, yet he couldn't really leave it at that. "I'm not normally a big fan of the sea," he continued conversationally, "but it's not bad to look over while you puzzle things out." That was true as well, on both counts. In Matthew's experience, the beach was a place to go if you wanted to get sand everywhere and if you missed the smell of dead fish and rotting seaweed or if the cold, persistent wind was just what you needed to experience. But it was nice for reflection, big and smooth and unfathomably deep. The closest to eternity you could find on Earth.

"I suppose it would be good to find a nice place to bed down, but I don't know how much I'd be able to sleep, anyways." 'Worst part of the outdoors,' he wanted to add, but it seemed prudent not to. Pretending a proper bed would solve all his ills did nobody any good. He opened his mouth, closed it, decided to leave it at that.

R.J. supposed wandering was a good reason as any, not giving much thought to what this guy, Matt he remembered, had said. So now there were two Matts to keep him company. That was nice, he felt.

"The ocean's pretty, and the sand is soft. Felt I could get some sleep. I'm trying not to think too much about this for the rest of the day."

Over-thinking was a problem for R.J. He started seeing all the things that could go wrong and how he would be the one to mess it up and how every variable made it so that everything that could go bad went bad and there would be nothing he could do to stop it and helping the situation somehow made it worse when all he tried to do was sleep on the beach for two seconds and just let his collar get blown so he didn't have time to do any of that-

He looked back at the ocean and rubbed his face with his palms.

Thinking was a problem.

"So yeah...just gonna make it a day here."

Matt seemed like he was going to say something, but he didn't. Good. R.J. didn't have it in him to make up more of conversation. He blew some air out of his mouth to move some hair out of his glasses. The stars really did look nice.

Having caught her breath and calmed herself down Emily reluctantly stood up. Though a part of her was scared she knew she had to find herself some allies, sitting on the beach wasn't going to help that.

She nervously wrung her hands, feeling a wave of nerves. What if they attacked her, she wouldn't stand a chance against two of them, she needed to run whilst she had the chance. She tried to calm herself down, no one was going to play she knew these people they just wouldn't. She wiped a lock of hair out her eyes running the ends through her fingers, a nervous habit she had as a kid.

She considered her options, either she went over or she ran for it. It didn't seem the time for a long analysis of her compatibility with the pair. As she took a few tentative steps in their direction she felt a familiar stab of anxiety. What if they were players, shoot her on sight. Or if they told her to piss off. She couldn't face the aggro. That said even given the danger she knew she needed allies, her weapon was next to useless as was she.

Emily walked towards the pair her hands raised, partly in greeting partly to show she was unarmed. Now it was time to say something smart, look cool and guarantee herself some allies...

"um....hi"

damnit.

Matthew turned again, gazing over the darkening water, turning the night's plans over in his mind. A few times he'd ended up setting up camp on a beach somewhere, and in none of those occasions had he any say in the decision. There were plenty of places he'd bed down willingly, but the beach had to be just about last on the list. Maybe some people found the sound of waves relaxing, but for himself it was more like having an alarm clock going off every five seconds. Plus the smell, and the fact that you'd never get all the sand out of year gear. Ever. He didn't want to patronize, but then again, if RJ just didn't know any better...

"I don't-"

He started, turned his attention to the new voice. It wasn't a long search to find its source, a girl walking slowly towards them. He smiled a bit - not only was he not dead from some ambush, but she seemed pretty genuinely sane, even if her posture was a bit of an uncomfortable reminder of what they were really doing there. Waving back, he spoke up in greeting.

"Hey there! We're not going to hurt you - right?" He threw what he judged to be a friendly glance towards RJ. "We were just discussing our options for packing in tonight. I think we'd all be better off a bit inland, though. I mean, there's no cover so the ground's not going to hold any heat, plus ocean breezes and stuff."

Just like the overnight portion of the wilderness survival badge. The smarter boys had brought some sort of sedative to put them away rather than drifting in and out amidst the incessant wrinkling of foil blankets, praying for the moon to move a bit further the next time they came to. Not a pleasant way to spend a night even with proper preparation, but it beat any alternatives they had at that point.

Matt had begun to speak again, but stopped after an interruption. R.J. did not much care Um-hi's anymore. So when a new feminine voice came and forced him a new one, he took a quick step back. Thankfully, it was only a lone girl, one of the 3 or so that had short blue hair. Emily, not the one with glasses or the ironic name. Differential by the shade of blue too.

R.J. gave a hand raise back to the turquoise-headed girl as Matt gave an oddly specific greeting. While it was true what he said, R.J. didn't even know the girl was there a minute ago let alone thinking of hurting her. It would be something that would make R.J. worried if he was her. But maybe that was just him. So he nodded along, even to the mention of the conversation about moving to a new location they were apparently having.

"Suppose he might now about finding a place to crash more than me."

R.J. wouldn't have minded the breeze with his hoodie covering him to conserve heat and protect him from the chill. He put away his glasses and pulled the strings of his hood to make a tighter fit as he thought about it. Matt didn't have a jacket, R.J. presumed, so he also presumed that was the reason why he wanted to get a new place to sleep. Made sense. R.J. would have been fine staying on the beach, being tired in two different ways, but whatever. A bed would be nice, long as it wasn't the one he woke up in.

"Not sure where to go, but sure." R.J. said as he pointed to his back direction. "Just not that way."

R.J. made his way out of the ocean, patting the bottoms of his feet with each step, not wanting to get sand in his shoes when he put them on. Sitting next to his bag, R.J. began to put on his long black socks. He looked up at the two as he did so.

"Ideas?"

((With it being day 13 for me and Rattle being in reduced activity, Skipping))

Socks and shoes equipped, R.J. looked up to both Emily and Matt. They said nothing. With a scratch of the neck and picking up his bag, R.J. stood up and began walking away. Maybe the beach wasn't the best place to chill like Matt suggested. He sounded like he knew what he was talking about. Besides, randomly walking around had kept him safe so far anyhow.

"Me neither. But I guess the beach isn't the best. I'ma just go...I don't even know. Where the wind takes me or bullcrap like that."

Where could he go anyway? In a situation like this, he wouldn't be surprised if someone barricaded themselves or set up a sniper's nest around somewhere.

He tsk-ed at himself.

"Veronica wouldn't worry about stuff like that."

He turned his head slightly to the others.

"Um...You guys can probably get a smarter plan then I have running, so I don't wanna slow ya down...bye."

Picking up his step, R.J. wandered off, yet again with no specific destination besides whatever was not behind him.

((Rutherford "R.J." Roger Jr.: B032 -V5- Continued In Ya Gotta Make That Play))

Well that didn't last long.

"Ah, right."

RJ didn't seem to want to stick around long, for whatever reason.

"W-" he caught the word before it left his mouth. If he wanted to leave, let him leave. He might not be as warm that night as he could otherwise be, or as comfortable, but he wasn't going to try to force him into anything.

"Catch you around, then," he called after him.

He looked from the boy to the girl to the rolling waves.

((Matthew Young continued elsewhere))

Before long, Emily left too.

((Emily Rose continued in Everyone Dies))