Survival Of The Fittest

Bringing up a little factoid from memory, green was supposed to be the most relaxing color. It was the easiest on the eyes and settings that largely incorporated the color were said to reduce stress.

Well, here he was, standing in what looked to be a shoddy greenhouse overrun by plants, and Cody Patton was anything but relaxed.

The first things that had set into his mind were the panic, the praying it was a dream, all those standard things somebody might feel when they woke up somewhere and didn't know where they were. He imagined this was how it felt to be that guy at the party who passes out on the couch and his friends move him outside for a good prank. This wasn't a good prank, though. Hazy memories of his last session being awake haunted him, packed into a tight space with his friends and other classmates like they were damned livestock. He almost wanted to associate it with crabs in a pot on his father's fishing vessel, but an association of something positive to something like this sickened him.

The next thing to set in was anger, but Cody felt so helpless to act on it. He wanted to shatter all the glass in the greenhouse, but either somebody or something had done that for him already. In his frustration, he did manage to tip a table containing a few potted plants. It did little to sate his anger. Picking up one of the fallen plants, he attempted to throw it at one of the walls of the greenhouse. The pot mostly bounced off of the framing, harming little if any of the glass that was mostly punched out anyway.

So this left Cody with only the clothes on his back, a knapsack at his feet and a most uncomfortable accessory clinging around his neck. His first urge was to pull at it; he quickly resisted. They had seen something of the sort warning against that during that horrifying... 'seminar'. So that left him with his daypack, and nobody else around that he could see.

Against his better judgement, Cody Patton called out.

"Hello? .... Anybody out there?"

He picked up the pack, slung a strap over his shoulder and waited.

(Edgar Tolstoff start)

Edgar enjoyed the brief seconds of calm as his eyes adjusted . It was then that reality struck in and he was reminded of the very real danger all around him. Edgar had taught himself some basic relaxation techniques. He thought back to what his dad had taught him. In fact, now he thought about it, they were not really applicable to the situation. Stressed about work sure forced to kill your classmates, not really.

Waves of panic threatened to overwhelm him as the full ramifications of the situation hit him. There was a very small chance of his survival. Worse, in his survival everyone else had to die. Business may be dog eat dog but this was a step too far. He couldn't believe the game had already played on his paranoia, he felt sick with himself that he had even considered killing his friends. That was letting the game win and Edgar wasn't allowing that.

This was just another puzzle, a terrible sick puzzle. If he could get some people together they could come up with a plan together and survive. He had seen the story about the other kids surviving, there was no reason they couldn't too. He still felt sick and scared but he clung to this story as a comfort.

He rolled out from his hiding place and looked around. Feeling slightly light headed from the gas and trauma he looked around the farm he found himself in. Despite his attempts to calm himself his hands were still visibly shaking. He didn't want to know what his weapon was, they would be damned if they thought he would play their sick game. His fear was not helped by the voice calling to him. Turning around he could see the looming ominous figure on the other side of the door. Edgar was scared on the other side of the door was potential danger and his brain was screaming to run. However, Edgar realised he couldn't just run from everyone if he wanted to escape he needed allies and friends.

He breathed in deeply before opening the greenhouse door. He approached the guy slowly, he coughed quietly to get the guy's attention. "Hi, I'm here. I...I don't want any trouble"

Well. That answered his question.

It wasn't the most desirable of company, but right now Cody was willing to take what he could get. It could certainly get worse than Edgar, something he was freely willing to acknowledge. As Cody looked through the clouded plastic of the door at the somewhat distorted figure, he felt the courage that had followed him all through high school returning. He wasn't a scared kid on an island by himself anymore, not right now. He was Cody Patton, one of the most popular kids at school, prom king, football captain.

He was king.

He was KING.

He could do this.

"No trouble, huh?" Cody asked, using his free hand to push the door open. It gave with about as little resistance as he thought it would for a run-down old greenhouse. "A little much to ask on fucking Death Island right now, isn't it?" Using the words as a cover, he scanned his new company up and down. It was something he did a million times in school; it also happened to be a good trick to use if you wanted to stop a girl from noticing you checking out their rack.

Nostalgic thoughts aside, Cody figured he wasn't dealing with anything really special here. Edgar was a slightly short, skinny little shit and didn't have a gun pulled or anything. Push comes to shove, Cody could put him down pretty quickly. This allowed Cody to relax a bit more, somewhat. He couldn't drop his guard, after all... no telling if Edgar had a gun in the back of his pants or something, thinking he was a gangster. Really, the relaxation was just letting him kick his groove more than anything. As long as he felt natural, things should be going his way.

"... But don't worry. You don't fuck around, you're probably not getting shit from me. Just woke up, anyway." Cody had been ignoring the pain in his head that he'd been feeling ever since he woke up. Yeah, it was a pain in the ass, but he had felt worse after several late hits during the end of the season last year. Bastards were always trying to take out his arm.

"And you? You think I gotta worry about you?"

Cody dropped his bag at his feet.

Edgar stood in the doorway, making sure that he could flee if things went south. Frankly Cody was not an ideal choice of company but beggars couldn't be choosers. Even in this life and death situation the principles, ingrained within him, of being polite irrespective of interests held fast. The facts were simple if Cody wanted to he could break Edgar in half. Unfortunately Edgar didn't know him very well, but he knew he would have to act carefully.

He found Cody's choice of language distasteful but he made a good point. It was naive at best, damn right foolish at worst to expect no trouble on 'Death Island' as it was now coined. He could not help but feel relieved when Cody told him he wasn't going to hurt him providing he did  nothing stupid. This seemed to be as good as Edgar could get. Cody was jumpy, he 'seemed' to be  relatively calm but could be a front he guessed. He knew better than questioning him though, whatever worked for him. Edgar was clinging to the idea they could escape, that all problems were solvable, this made him appeal to Cody:

"Look Cody, it seems to me we can help each other here. Everyone wants to survive and groups are mutually beneficial. I'm not sure how yet but I want to get people together, together I know we can solve this, we can." Looking round Edgar whispered "escape".

"If you don't want to team up that is cool but we can perhaps share any scraps of information then go"

Edgar was concerned, he really wasn't sure that he was doing the right thing, he hardly knew Cody, besides knowing he had dated Kat. Still he wasn't going to allow the island to create a culture of paranoia. He wasn't going to martyr himself but he wouldn't let them play mind games with him. They wouldn't win...they couldn't.

Cody stared at Edgar for a while in disbelief. Not five minutes in and the first kid he met was already saying some stupid bullshit. Could this guy seriously be related to Kat? Cody never spoke to Edgar much, but had decided to lay off with any harshness in school because he had always kind of hoped to get with his sister, and Kat probably wouldn't have appreciated him ragging on Edgar all that much.

Right now, the constraints of law had been removed, Kat was fuck-all-knows-where and Edgar was making it very difficult to keep from removing that stupid looking head from his shoulders.

"I... I don't even know where to start with what's wrong with that," Cody sputtered. "Escape? ESCAPE WHERE, JACKASS!?" Cody threw his arms up. As much as his logic center said he couldn't be making a scene, the residual frustration that had stuck to him ever since he woke up drove him to holler. "Don't you know where the fuck we are? These bastards drop kids on an island and force them to kill each other! It's been on the news how many times in the last decade? Wake the fuck up!"

Escape. That was cute. The only way to 'escape' this situation to off yourself early, put a bullet through your own brain or slit your wrists or jump off a cliff. Otherwise, you were dealing with hell on earth and living nightmares right until you died, sooner or later. Hell, even the bastards that won this probably don't sleep anymore.

"Oh, but okay, you want to escape. Sure. Tell you what. YOU come up with all your fancy little plans, and that nice little ring you've got around your neck can pop your fucking head off." Cody wiped his forehead. Fuck this. Fuck Edgar, fuck this stupid indestructible greenhouse, fuck the fact that he was so angry he could cry right in front of this loser.

He paced back and forth for a few seconds, then stepped back to his bag. He picked it up and dragged it back into the greenhouse where he had been moments before, set it down, and began to open it up.

"Fine. Let's play survival. Let's see what the fuck we've got to work with."

Edgar tried to listen dispassionately to Cody's opinion. He got it the guy was mad but that was no excuse to be an ass. For a second he thought Cody would either explode or kill him. He just didn't get it, yes Edgar didn't have the details but he would, you could bet your bottom dollar on that. He had decided it wouldn't work and Edgar was pretty sure the guy was too obstinate to change his mind. Still Edgar found his own annoyance rising, a rational part of his brain was screaming at him that winding up this frustrated jock would not help. Still he believed in debate, fully explaining himself, being called naive and an idiot stung Edgar to reply:

"Cody! calm down, your attitude is getting you nowhere. You're right I don't have the details, but that's the point I WILL have them. I know we can beat this, we will beat this. I'm not just gunna sacrifice myself for some naive idiocy, we can do this. They escaped last time, and we can too. If we play this smart we can get out of this, you can do what you want, believe what you want, frankly I don't care. Just do me a favour and consider it"

He was fairly sure his words would have 0 impact on the jock but he was as much working off his frustration as talking to Cody directly. He looked around hoping nature would calm him down. He took deep breaths as Cody's final statement echoed in his head "lets play survival". He considered the statement as he tried to calm down, presumably it meant a temporary alliance, he just hoped his frustrated words hadn't cost that.

"Good plan, guess we have a reasonable point here. Have cover and reasonable vantage point. Guess we need some kind of plan, anyone you looking for or anything?"

As he opened the dufflebag and began rummaging through it, Cody did his best to block out most of Edgar's speech. It's not like he was to be blamed for being so irritable after waking up in the middle of nowhere, seeing the things he had seen. If it wasn't dedicated to fear or doubt, the space in Cody's heart was occupied by aggression. 'Rage' was probably going a bit too far to describe it, but he definitely didn't want to cuddle with Edgar right now. Any more of that annoying camaraderie bullshit and he wanted to break the shithead's nose.

A twinge of regret and rebuttal built inside of Cody as he displaced item after item in the bag. If there was something of a point to what Kat's annoying dipshit of a brother said, it was that there had been escapes; kids had gotten away. They had an opportunity to go on living their lives, and it was the biggest news story four years ago. Cody could never forget it. However, the realization that they would likely never get that same opportunity, that same million-to-one chance, did nothing to sweeten his sour outlook.

He wasn't even sure what made him so positive that escape simply wasn't an option. He couldn't articulate it into words or even a coherent thought, but only understood that he couldn't bank his life on a chance that would make a lottery modest. If Cody was anything, he was realistic. Some of those idealistic twats at school would call him cynical, and some guys on the football team even went the other way and said he was an idealist for saying he'd one day play for the pros.

As far as he was concerned, he knew exactly what he was capable of.

That's when Cody found the rifle in the bottom of his bag. He swallowed the shock that wanted to take a leap from his throat, and slipped over a piece of paper that had been tucked neatly near the trigger. Winchester Model 88. He wasn't a big gun buff, but it didn't take one to know that Winchester was a fairly high quality brand and one that had been around a long while. Cody had something he could truly trust with his life.

Beneath the gun, he saw a small box with glints of golden color visible from a few perforations. It was, no doubt, a container of ammunition. He took note of a black cartridge, already attached to the gun. He wasn't sure if that meant it was loaded or not.

He was so lost in his search that it took a second for him to remember that Edgar was still talking to him.

"Anybody I'm looking for? Right now?" Cody paused to think. "Not particularly." Meeting up with some of his friends from the football team would be nice, but images flashed from the seminar. They were all friends in school, but anything went here right now. He was having trouble letting it sink in, the fact that they were supposed to murder each other. That much still felt pretty damn surreal.

What did it feel like to kill somebody?

Cody looked at Edgar.

"Not really looking for anybody right now. And you said you had bright ideas?"

As he suspected, his speech seemed to have no effect. In fact, Cody had turned his back and was rifling through his bag. From his position Edgar couldn't see what the sportsman was looking at. He felt a familiar surge of panic. What if the guy was simply pretending to be friendly? Well, not hostile at least, and was luring Edgar into a trap? He looked all around eyeing his escape routes. Still, if Cody was determined there was very little he could do to stop him. Edgar's first thought was to go to his own bag to see if he could turn the odds in his favour.

Once again Edgar stopped himself. He wasn't going to play their sick game. He clung desperately to his hope of escape. "We will escape. I know it," he whispered under his breath, clinging to the words as his comfort against the hopeless situation he found himself in.

He tried to work out his best course of action. Cody's reaction was freaking him out. He was extremely concerned and considering running. The look on the other boy's face brewed his paranoia and he was relieved when he finally replied. It wasn't very informative, but at least the guy was talking to him. He didn't have the answer to Cody's question. He wished he did, but he didn't. He would do anything for the answer, but it wasn't forthcoming.

"Um, I don't know. I just don't know," he sighed, depressed by this statement. He knew he needed more than that but his brain had gone blank. "We get a group of trustworthy people, put our brains together. I know I sound idealistic and naive but if we give up there is absolutely no point in anything."

(Rose Matheson begins)

Impotence was the word of the day, ladies and gentlemen. The one thing that Rose Matheson wanted to do upon waking up was to throw a tantrum to properly express her anger and horror at being abducted, forced to fight for the amusement of ideological maniacs, and mostly likely doomed to die a hideous death. But how? Smash a camera? They'd blow her collar, making the act tantamount to opting out of the contest via suicide. Smash something else? They left her nothing but Frosted Flakes to wreck shit with, so she'd have to punch and kick and risk breaking some parts of her she couldn't afford to lose. Scream and shout? Along with breaking things, this would attract people in the vicinity, most likely people who were better armed than her. Make colorful insults at the people responsible, likely relating to STDs and inadequacy in bed? That would only serve to entertain the fuckers if they didn't kill her for giving them lip. Thus fuming and stewing in her own impotence proved the only option that satisfied her sense of self-preservation.

The map of the island that her hosts had so graciously provided told her that the farm she could see in the distance was called the Homestead. It was as good a place to start as any, she supposed. As she walked up to the greenhouse, she just realized that those shitsucking sons of bitches took her phone. She had just bought a digital copy of the new album by Killer Mike, the one her friends online had been telling her about for ages. Alright, already, she had told them, she'd get the fucking album and listen to it at Disneyland! But now that was lost and gone forever, and she had to settle on her memories of Watch the Throne to tide her over until this miserable wade through shit finally ended.

We make it out alive, alright alright, no church in the wild. She hummed to herself as she walked up to the greenhouse. The greenery inside obscured her view of whoever happened to have gotten there before her, and she knew there were people in plural because she heard this one dude talking. Whoever he was, he was talking about getting people's heads together to come up with a solution to this intractable problem. It wasn't a voice she recognized.

"Well, I don't know if I'm trustworthy with a brain and shit," she announced, walking into the greenhouse. Prime opportunity to get shot, but she didn't think they were in much of a shooting mood. "But I'm gonna go batshit without someone to talk to so-"

She turned her head and saw just who it was that this chucklehead addressed. Of course she had to run into her ex in the first twenty minutes. Cody Patton had shifted in her eyes quite a bit since she'd first met him years and years ago. First he was a dynamic, confident beast who swept her off her feet and left her reeling in the sack. The months crept by, and like Jeff Goldblum in The Fly he made a slow transformation into a supreme shitlord who kicked people around and didn't give a good goddamn about other people. Rose was content to leave it at that, after a messy, public breakup that wouldn't be out of place on TMZ or Jerry Springer or whatever trash people watched to assure themselves their lives could be worse, but separation muddied those memories, and now she didn't know what to make of Cody at all. Now it looked like she might have to come up with an answer after all... especially since he had the gun.

"Oh, son of a bitch!" she said, a second after she saw Cody and realized that it was really him and not just a trick of the mind. Right after that she threw her hands up and veered towards at state of panic. "Not you, not you, not you! I just... dammit." She found a bench to sit and slump on, clutching her hair in her fingers. "Hey Cody," she said, looking up at him. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Feh..." Cody looked up to see the newcomer, and it was somebody he was more than passingly familiar with. Hell, if you wanted to get all personal, he was more... familiar... with Rose than just about anybody else he knew of. Bitch was kind of a wingnut these days, but Cody wouldn't up and call her a slut just because they had a few messy moments. He wasn't that kind of guy.

He was still the kind of guy to call her a complete fucking spaz, because he felt obligated to speak the truth. Rose was also somewhat proving his point, immediately going over to a bench after having some sort of inward temper tantrum. Fine, let her. She clearly wasn't presenting herself as a threat. Not to him, anyway.

"Don't act so happy to see me," he said with about as much dripping wet sarcasm as he could manage to slather onto the sentence. It was almost like they were back in high school with all the drama as usual, minus the fact that he was standing up with the stock of a rifle in his hand. The gun unearthed itself from Cody's settled place in his dufflebag, displacing all the other admittedly useful knick-knacks and kits. The gun hung limp in his hand, barrel pointed straight at the ground. Nonetheless, it was still a gun, and Cody felt much more like a man with it in his hands.

"Where the hell did you come from anyway?" Cody asked Rose, but it was more filler than anything. He didn't care that he was looking at his ex from high school. At least, he didn't care in any sort of detrimental sense. He almost missed the company of somebody he knew not to be an utter dork. Edgar was still in front of him, and that's where Cody turned his attention toward. So, the guy was saying that the last thing they should be doing is to give up? Hell, Cody could agree with the sentiment so far. He wasn't ready to just up and give up after looking at the hand being dealt to him. Not yet.

He'd see where the dealer put down the cards next. Right now, he was holding the ace. It just so happened that his plans got shoved a bit when Rose entered the scene, but Cody figured that if he put his mind toward any particular thing, she really wasn't going to put up much to stop him.

"Alright. Well, judging by what I've got right here in my hand, I think I'm okay when it comes to defense."

Edgar alternated his gaze between the new arrival and Cody. Judging from the conversation the two knew each other, thinking for a second Edgar thought he vaguely remembered they had dated. The girl seemed on the verge of panic, an emotion he could sympathise with. He wondered if there was anything he could do to help, after all any potential ally was useful. Not that he was doing a good job of convincing Cody. His first thought was to interject into the conversation, help them sort it out. But the two had their drama and there was no real reason for Edgar to be involved or intervene. Besides if he intervened in their lovers' quarrel he would look like he was taking sides and probably end up annoying someone even further. Frankly he was amazed they were still acting like a bad high school soap opera.

"Oh wonderful, high school histrionics just what we need. Not like there is any more important things going on guys"

Oh no! He realised he had spoken aloud, that certainly wouldn't help the situation. His attention had been focused on the girl and her dramatic antics but he nearly jumped out his skin as he turned back to Cody. Oh no, indeed. The guy who he had managed to annoy and frustrate was carrying a gun, Edgar didn't care what type, it wasn't like it mattered.  His brain went into overdrive, one part was screaming run, run you fool before he kills you. However, for the moment Cody was showing no intent to hurt him and his statement suggested he only wanted to defend himself. If he could keep his smart alec comments to himself hanging around with someone who was armed wasn't such a bad strategy.

Edgar berated himself for thinking like that, he wasn't going to let someone else kill on his behalf. Yes he wanted to survive, of course he did everyone did. Still he wasn't going to stand around and let others kill for him. That was cowardly, as bad as him killing if not worse as it would be more spineless. Though it had to be said a part of him thought it was quite a good idea.

He desperately thought of something to say. Regrettably wit and charm were not strengths of his.

As Cody talked, demonstrating his wonderfully scintillating personality, Rose looked down and took a deep breath. Jesus, had she really reacted that badly? She remembered Cody mocking her during the worst parts of their relationship for how energetic and tongue-tied she could get during moments of passion. Three or four different possible responses to a situation came to mind and instead of choosing between them, she alternated between those responses in a few seconds. Apparently Cody considered that a turn-off or some shit. But he had a point. She really needed to stop doing that.

"Where?" she repeated. "The grass outside, just far enough for me not to see this house. Don't ask where exactly, I already forgot." She shrugged and started rummaging through her pack, pulling out a box of Frosted Flakes. "Dunno if you're hungry or anything. It's gotta taste better than the default option, right? Though it's still bound to be pretty bad without milk."

Rose glanced up at Edgar. Her eye twitched when she heard his comment. Oh, was she histrionic now? Who was this dicksmeared son of a shit to judge her? Their situation was bad enough without throwing catty insults around. So now she should probably work on holding back on the opportunity to snark, huh? That might be harder than getting her head straight, but whatever. Fly or die, right? "Hey, who's being dramatic?" she asked with a shrug. "We're almost adults. Perfectly capable of having a reasonable discussion, right Cody?" The smile she gave her ex was her best attempt at being friendly, maybe even recapturing the magic that got them together in the first place.

Aside from typical breakup regrets, Rose also had the matter of practicality to consider. Cody had a big fuck-off gun, and it would help immensely to have something like that on her side. Problem was, he had a gun and she had nothing. There was no practical reason for him to want to travel with her. That left emotional reasons, and she didn't know if Cody wanted to keep her around too. At least she was reasonably sure he wouldn't fill her with holes. She thought.

Rose was talking to him of her own free will, huh? There was a sign that things really were going straight to hell. Still, Cody figured he might indulge her while they were all standing around. She was still worlds better company than Edgar, regardless of how much awkwardness and tension she had just introduced to what was already a very frustrating moment.

"Yeah, sure," Cody said. "To be real with you, I have enough on my plate right now that I wouldn't want to start any other shit anyway." He was hesitant to take his eyes off of Edgar; kid was looking at his gun a whole lot, and Cody couldn't really piece together why. He had a few guesses though, ranging from possibilities that made Edgar a flight risk to others that made him a downright threat. He told himself not to act on anything just yet, however, and afforded Rose at least a quick glance.

"Nice weapon, by the way. And you know I prefer my cereal without milk."

Cody returned his gaze to Edgar. "So. Tolstoff." It was the most affectionate way he could use to refer to the guy. "Tell us what you're bringing to the party, with all your talk of plans and usefulness."

Edgar decided his best option was to say silent, frankly he wasn't particularly a people person and he cared little for the drama unfolding before him. Besides, on current form if he opened his mouth he would just offend them some more. He let them continue their odd passive aggressive argument, frankly it was starting to annoy him. He had little to add and edged slowly towards the door. It was as if the full situation had only just struck him. He felt sick, sick of the games sick of the island and his companions. A quiet voice in his head said he didn't care what happened.

He largely ignored their conversation, his attention still focused on the gun. It appeared Cody didn't intent to shoot him, yet, he felt his heart rate start to relax. The blind panic when he saw the gun had largely dissipated, replaced by a vague annoyance.

Finally Cody seemed to get bored of their tedious back and forth and addressed Edgar. Edgar didn't like his tone, it felt like it was dripping with a disguised contempt. He also disliked being referred to as Tolstoff, somehow it was disrespectful, mocking even. Edgar tried to swallow his pride and annoyance, it wasn't helpful to him on Death Island. He could not hold back his building frustration any more when Cody asked him what use he was.

"At least I'm trying Cody not sat here in some petty passive aggressive stand off cos I'm too immature to let things go. Sure I don't have your strength or physical prowess but that doesn't warrant your sense of superiority. I'm trying to help people, get us all of this island. Unite and come up with a plan. And what are you doing? Sitting here swapping quips with your ex, absolutely great that is exactly what we need."

Oh, right. Rose forgot about Cody's eating habits. It had been a while since they got together. "Well, alright. You can have a little of it if you want." She exaggerated the taste of dry cereal. It was mostly the same, but it parched her mouth and that was some annoying crap she didn't want to have to deal with. Still... were the basic rations that much worse? When it came time for her to eat, when she was genuinely hungry and not just in the mood for a snack, she'd have to test that. It would take her mind off the specter of her mortality.

Then again, Edgar's whining was also doing a good job of that. He was still complaining that Rose and Cody were sniping at each other even though Cody's last remarks were just the kind of quips he made when they were on good terms. At least, Rose thought they were. Maybe she wasn't the best judge of that. But Edgar's shit-talking made her scoot an inch closer to Cody.

"Alright," she said, holding up her hands. "Quipping time is over. Let's put our heads together." She paused and thought for a second. "Nah, I got nothing. Also, I'm pretty sure they're watching us. That's the first problem. So I guess I have something, but I thought that was obvious so it didn't count." She shrugged. "What's that tell you, um, what was your name again?"