((Continued from Archangel))
It seemed like she had been running for hours, but in actuality it had only been a few minutes. Terrie Brightwell (Female Student no. 16) immediately dropped to her knees, skinning them somewhat against the hard, rocky ground by the side of the stream, and exhaled deeply.
Why...?
The bag she'd grabbed before she took off from the ravine fell limply at her side and she doubled over for a moment, attempting to catch her breath. Things had gotten out of hand so quickly, and up until now, she hadn't even had time to think.
Why are they playing?
To say the incident with Gabriel Theobaldt had been an eye-opener for Terrie might have been quite possibly the biggest understatement of the year. She had been so completely dumbstruck when the leviathan presented the heart of Jason Foley that she hadn't known how to react. Her inability to react didn't change anything, though.
Jason Foley was dead. Was he the only one, or had others died as well? Terrie simply couldn't wrap her head around it all. She had heard of Survival of the Fittest in the past, of course, but there was one thing she could never seem to understand, and that was why people played the game.
The answer, of course, couldn't have been more simple. They played to survive. To win. To go home. But the pointlessness of it all was so evident, even to someone like Terrie who tried to have an optimistic view on everything. Only one person could go home, didn't they know how unlikely it was that they'd ever see home again?
That thought caused tears to well up in her eyes once again. It was the first time she had thought of home -- of her parents, her brothers, their pets -- and the fact that she probably had no chance of seeing them again. She wondered what Jamie and Sam were doing now... if they were watching... how they felt.
Why is this happening? Why us? WHY us?
The blonde-headed girl finally regained her breath but didn't bother to rise to her feet. She could hear footsteps in the background and made the assumption that they were Brad's. That was when the next thought struck her. Was it such a good idea to be alone with him? He'd gone to jail, after all, who's to say he could be trusted?
But still, he had tried to protect both her and Simon Wood until someone else had jumped into the fight. In all of her panic, Terrie had barely caught a glimpse of the boy that had intervened, but she knew his name was Adam, and that he was the winner of one round of this 'competition'.
What had happened to him, she wondered. She hoped Gabriel hadn't killed him, but at the same time, she didn't want Gabriel to die either, even if he had killed Jason. It just wasn't right. None of it was right. She clenched her fists tightly and moved her head to look behind her -- toward the hill they had just ran down, toward the ravine that the brook ran into and somewhere to the bridge later on.
"Why does it have to be like this?"
How the Stars Have Fallen...
How the Stars Have Fallen...
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(Brad Kavanagh continued from Archangel)
Goddamn it... if it ain't one thing, it has to be another.
Brad Kavanagh (Male Student no. 14) felt breathless. Numb. Completely, uncomfortably numb. It wasn't just about the running, although that had something to do with it no doubt. He had been running at top speed for as long as he could recall, but that wasn't the big problem. It was also the wound, the large cut that had just recently inflicted him. Like a hole being made in a balloon, all of the energy had seemed to blow it's way out of his entire body. He still ran though.
He stopped in his tracks after it appeared that the girl he had been following, a girl from the popular crowd by the name of Terrie Brightwell. The only other thing that he knew was that she was a part of a sports team, but that was more due to the fact that she could run for so long without slowing down. Brad never really had any fond memories of her, and he really wasn't sure of how he would remember her name over the many others that he had forgotten. Really, it was strange but that sort of thing really didn't matter at this point. She had something in common with Brad, and that was enough for him.
"Jesus Christ...." he cursed loudly, shaking violently as he tried his best to catch his own breath. He dropped his assigned bag on the ground, his arms moving to his knees as he shuddered.
Wow... I can fight with the best of them, and I'm still out of shape...
He heard the gentle, saddened voice from across, lifting his head up. Why does it have to be like this? This game? That's a damn good question. If I really knew that answer... I'd be a happy guy. Brad forced another smile, trying to look as genuine as possible. Of course he was unnerved. Who wouldn't be? Any normal person in his situation would break down and sob for hours on end. Brad was different from many people though. The fear, the apprehension was he felt the moment he woke up on this island... was the same fear and apprehension he felt when he was incarcerated. Brad had sobbed like a baby when he was brought in, and... he didn't shed a tear when he woke up on this godforsaken island. To him, all of this seemed like another day in the state jail, fending for himself.
That begged the question: Why did he try to defend Terrie? Why did he stick up for her? Did he feel pity for her? No... he didn't. He actually wasn't sure why he did it. He just felt like he had to. That was all, or at least that's all he thought it was.
"Why does it have to be like this?" He repeated her own questions, shaking his head slightly. "I think you're asking the wrong guy here, because I'm really not sure. I guess... it's just what it is."
Goddamn it... if it ain't one thing, it has to be another.
Brad Kavanagh (Male Student no. 14) felt breathless. Numb. Completely, uncomfortably numb. It wasn't just about the running, although that had something to do with it no doubt. He had been running at top speed for as long as he could recall, but that wasn't the big problem. It was also the wound, the large cut that had just recently inflicted him. Like a hole being made in a balloon, all of the energy had seemed to blow it's way out of his entire body. He still ran though.
He stopped in his tracks after it appeared that the girl he had been following, a girl from the popular crowd by the name of Terrie Brightwell. The only other thing that he knew was that she was a part of a sports team, but that was more due to the fact that she could run for so long without slowing down. Brad never really had any fond memories of her, and he really wasn't sure of how he would remember her name over the many others that he had forgotten. Really, it was strange but that sort of thing really didn't matter at this point. She had something in common with Brad, and that was enough for him.
"Jesus Christ...." he cursed loudly, shaking violently as he tried his best to catch his own breath. He dropped his assigned bag on the ground, his arms moving to his knees as he shuddered.
Wow... I can fight with the best of them, and I'm still out of shape...
He heard the gentle, saddened voice from across, lifting his head up. Why does it have to be like this? This game? That's a damn good question. If I really knew that answer... I'd be a happy guy. Brad forced another smile, trying to look as genuine as possible. Of course he was unnerved. Who wouldn't be? Any normal person in his situation would break down and sob for hours on end. Brad was different from many people though. The fear, the apprehension was he felt the moment he woke up on this island... was the same fear and apprehension he felt when he was incarcerated. Brad had sobbed like a baby when he was brought in, and... he didn't shed a tear when he woke up on this godforsaken island. To him, all of this seemed like another day in the state jail, fending for himself.
That begged the question: Why did he try to defend Terrie? Why did he stick up for her? Did he feel pity for her? No... he didn't. He actually wasn't sure why he did it. He just felt like he had to. That was all, or at least that's all he thought it was.
"Why does it have to be like this?" He repeated her own questions, shaking his head slightly. "I think you're asking the wrong guy here, because I'm really not sure. I guess... it's just what it is."
It took several moments before Terrie could regain her composure enough to rise to her feet and dust the dirt away from her knees. One was slightly red due to having scraped it on the rocks when she'd fallen to her knees, but she paid it very little heed. Instead, her attention turned back toward the point it had been focused on a moment before.
The bottom of the ravine.
She couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened up there. It was funny how things could go so very wrong in such short time. Everything in this entire game had happened so fast. Only moments after she had woken up, she'd witnessed Tyson Neills' death at the hands of Bobby Jacks.
Running from that had forced her into another potentially dangerous situation near that bridge. Perhaps Brad Kavanagh wouldn't have been so intimidating if he hadn't been adorning that hockey mask, but the moment Terrie saw it, all she could do was envision that Jason character from the movies.
Brad wasn't the one she had to worry about, it turned out. The guy across the bridge, Gabriel, was. To be honest, she was grateful that she hadn't come up on the other side of the bridge. If she had, she probably wouldn't have been standing there right then.
"I hope they're okay..." Terrie managed to utter before breaking her gaze on the water, "I feel so guilty for running and leaving Simon and Adam behind but... I couldn't do anything. I couldn't even think, you know? I was just too... scared. I just... I don't understand it. Why do people think they have to play? Killing someone's not okay... it just isn't..."
She didn't know why she was lecturing Brad about it. He couldn't have done anything either, except potentially gotten himself killed by trying to save herself and Simon. She exhaled deeply and clenched her fists together tightly, trying to fight back the frustration that wracked her body.
"...Brad, right?" she inquired after a moment, feeling rather bad for not being completely positive that was his name, "Listen... thank you... for your help and everything. It means a lot, you know?"
She smiled lightly, although it seemed more sad than happy.
"I just hate that it has to happen like this. I don't understand why we can't save everyone... if we all banded together, we could beat this thing, I know we could... but... everyone's too scared to trust anyone but themselves. It's crazy, but it's taken me up until this point to realize that even though these are people I've known for at least four years, some of them even longer than that, I don't know anything about them... I don't know what they're capable of. It's a scary thought, you know? To think that some of them are capable of killing someone."
She brushed her highlighted hair away from her face and rubbed her cheeks in an attempt at removing any trickles of makeup that had slid down them in the process. When she actually took the time to look at Brad, she noticed almost instantly the large wound in his chest, probably inflicted by Gabriel's sword, she imagined.
"You're hurt," Terrie frowned lightly, "We should clean that out and bandage it up... wouldn't be too good if it got infected. My mom's an RN, she taught me how to do some of that stuff. If you want, I can do it. I think I owe you that much."
The bottom of the ravine.
She couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened up there. It was funny how things could go so very wrong in such short time. Everything in this entire game had happened so fast. Only moments after she had woken up, she'd witnessed Tyson Neills' death at the hands of Bobby Jacks.
Running from that had forced her into another potentially dangerous situation near that bridge. Perhaps Brad Kavanagh wouldn't have been so intimidating if he hadn't been adorning that hockey mask, but the moment Terrie saw it, all she could do was envision that Jason character from the movies.
Brad wasn't the one she had to worry about, it turned out. The guy across the bridge, Gabriel, was. To be honest, she was grateful that she hadn't come up on the other side of the bridge. If she had, she probably wouldn't have been standing there right then.
"I hope they're okay..." Terrie managed to utter before breaking her gaze on the water, "I feel so guilty for running and leaving Simon and Adam behind but... I couldn't do anything. I couldn't even think, you know? I was just too... scared. I just... I don't understand it. Why do people think they have to play? Killing someone's not okay... it just isn't..."
She didn't know why she was lecturing Brad about it. He couldn't have done anything either, except potentially gotten himself killed by trying to save herself and Simon. She exhaled deeply and clenched her fists together tightly, trying to fight back the frustration that wracked her body.
"...Brad, right?" she inquired after a moment, feeling rather bad for not being completely positive that was his name, "Listen... thank you... for your help and everything. It means a lot, you know?"
She smiled lightly, although it seemed more sad than happy.
"I just hate that it has to happen like this. I don't understand why we can't save everyone... if we all banded together, we could beat this thing, I know we could... but... everyone's too scared to trust anyone but themselves. It's crazy, but it's taken me up until this point to realize that even though these are people I've known for at least four years, some of them even longer than that, I don't know anything about them... I don't know what they're capable of. It's a scary thought, you know? To think that some of them are capable of killing someone."
She brushed her highlighted hair away from her face and rubbed her cheeks in an attempt at removing any trickles of makeup that had slid down them in the process. When she actually took the time to look at Brad, she noticed almost instantly the large wound in his chest, probably inflicted by Gabriel's sword, she imagined.
"You're hurt," Terrie frowned lightly, "We should clean that out and bandage it up... wouldn't be too good if it got infected. My mom's an RN, she taught me how to do some of that stuff. If you want, I can do it. I think I owe you that much."
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"Hmm... You mean that other kid with the cast?" Brad shrugged slightly, looking away from her face for a moment. "Well... I don't know who Simon is but he looked like he had a nice weapon... whatever the hell it was. And Adam... well, I don't know the guy personally but what I do know that he's been through this sort of shit before. But... I guess I can understand what you mean. Frankly I was kind of hesitant..."
Brad fell silent for a long time, declining to say anything. It wasn't like he really had anything to say anything. He tried to keep his forced smile on his face, if anything to calm Terrie down. Maybe the more he spoke to her, the more calm she would become. His voice started to churn down into a soft, calm tone. It wasn't entirely surprising that she had asked her for his name.
"Yeah. The name's Brad. Brad Kavanagh." he chuckled softly, which surprisingly wasn't forced out one bit. "Yeah... it's a hard name to remember. Honestly, no one ever remembers it. And you're Terrie. Terrie Brightwell... is that your name? I mean I'm not the most popular guy so I could never know everyone..."
Brad began to wonder why, of all the times that he could spend chatting with someone else, it had to be then? Most of all, why was he so nervous talking to her, stumbling over himself like he was. "No... don't worry about it," he continued, trying to play off his act of heroism as nothing. " I mean if I didn't jump in front of you and block that sick son-of-a-bitch, then who would have? It was more of a first-reaction kind of thing.... Don't go calling me a savior or anything like that... Although I wouldn't blame you if you did..."
The next thing Terrie had gone onto say hit Brad hard the most. She actually believes... that we could honestly beat this thing? That we could rise up against the terrorists? Against that fucker Dan... Dayna? Danya? Brad's mouth visibly turned into a frown. He would have liked d to believe that such a thing was ever possible. After all, if there WAS a way out of the game then someone would have found it. Then again... as the saying goes, 'third times the charm'. Brad hated that expression, but he couldn't help but to agree with it.
Terrie mentioned his wound, and Brad looked down at it for the first time. His hand touched it lightly, making him hiss in pain, the blood coating his fingers in a sappy red. It was a deep cut that crossed his entire midsection from left to right. The slash itself couldn't have been considered entirely large, but it appeared that way from how the blood was flowing. It wasn't gushing out, but it certainly wasn't stopping by itself. Brad would have tried to pass it off and act like he was perfectly fine, but the thought of Terrie's mom being a RN.
"Alright... if you're sure you know what you have to do to patch this up, the fine by me. This thing hurts like... a bitch, so anything other than that if fine with me."
Brad fell silent for a long time, declining to say anything. It wasn't like he really had anything to say anything. He tried to keep his forced smile on his face, if anything to calm Terrie down. Maybe the more he spoke to her, the more calm she would become. His voice started to churn down into a soft, calm tone. It wasn't entirely surprising that she had asked her for his name.
"Yeah. The name's Brad. Brad Kavanagh." he chuckled softly, which surprisingly wasn't forced out one bit. "Yeah... it's a hard name to remember. Honestly, no one ever remembers it. And you're Terrie. Terrie Brightwell... is that your name? I mean I'm not the most popular guy so I could never know everyone..."
Brad began to wonder why, of all the times that he could spend chatting with someone else, it had to be then? Most of all, why was he so nervous talking to her, stumbling over himself like he was. "No... don't worry about it," he continued, trying to play off his act of heroism as nothing. " I mean if I didn't jump in front of you and block that sick son-of-a-bitch, then who would have? It was more of a first-reaction kind of thing.... Don't go calling me a savior or anything like that... Although I wouldn't blame you if you did..."
The next thing Terrie had gone onto say hit Brad hard the most. She actually believes... that we could honestly beat this thing? That we could rise up against the terrorists? Against that fucker Dan... Dayna? Danya? Brad's mouth visibly turned into a frown. He would have liked d to believe that such a thing was ever possible. After all, if there WAS a way out of the game then someone would have found it. Then again... as the saying goes, 'third times the charm'. Brad hated that expression, but he couldn't help but to agree with it.
Terrie mentioned his wound, and Brad looked down at it for the first time. His hand touched it lightly, making him hiss in pain, the blood coating his fingers in a sappy red. It was a deep cut that crossed his entire midsection from left to right. The slash itself couldn't have been considered entirely large, but it appeared that way from how the blood was flowing. It wasn't gushing out, but it certainly wasn't stopping by itself. Brad would have tried to pass it off and act like he was perfectly fine, but the thought of Terrie's mom being a RN.
"Alright... if you're sure you know what you have to do to patch this up, the fine by me. This thing hurts like... a bitch, so anything other than that if fine with me."
Somehow, Terrie felt sort of bad that Brad seemed to know her name and she was simply half-guessing at his. The majority of things she had ever heard about him were simply rumors, and most of them seemed to surround his removal from school and apparent jail sentence. Overall, it wasn't the most comforting thing to hear about a person.
He didn't seem to have much to say about her thoughts on beating the game, but really, what had she expected? For him to be all for the idea and to reassure her that nobody in their class was far enough off their rocker to kill somebody? Did she want to hear that nobody would turn on one another and everything would be perfectly fine?
Why would she? She had seen it herself. She had seen Tyson die. She had seen Gabriel hold up Jason's heart. People were already playing, already killing, and already dying. They'd only been awake for a few hours and it had already begun. What happened in a few more hours? Another day?
The island would be consumed in chaos. That's what would happen. Friends would turn on one another, they'd be slaughtered one by one. The thought of it sent chills up her spine, and it was at that moment that she was glad to have some sort of ally, even if his noteworthy reputation preceeded him.
"So," Terrie mused, trying to push all the horrible thoughts into the back of her mind, "This might seem a little forward of me, but I'm going to have to ask you to take off your shirt."
She couldn't help but laugh at the situation. It was awkward at best. When she boarded the bus to attend the graduation trip, she didn't see herself bandaging up another student that she was barely acquainted with a few hours from then. Especially after said student had incurred the injury while saving her life. From a lunatic. With a sword.
She kneeled down, digging through her daypack until she finally located the first aid kit she had been looking for. Unlocking the sides of the case and flipping it open, she analyzed the utensils she'd been given to work with. It wasn't like she had the ability to stitch up the wound or anything, not without making a huge mess and probably not doing it right to begin with, but there had to be something she could do.
"Okay..." Terrie muttered softly, looking up at Brad momentarily and flashing him a brace-filled smile before returning her attention to the kit in front of her, "We've got rubbing alcohol and bandages, so that'll have to work for now. I think the most important thing is to disinfect it. Wouldn't want it festering over with whatever kind of crazy diseases are probably running around in the jungle, right?"
She didn't want to remind him that pouring alcohol into an open wound was probably going to be very painful, especially depending on how deep Gabriel had managed to cut him. Still, a little pain now was better than a lot of pain later, and that's what would happen if the wound wasn't cleaned properly.
After that, all she'd have to do was wrap the bandages around it and have him make sure to keep them changed and maybe re-disinfect the wound every once in a while, and he should be good to go after that. At least, that's what she remembered. Jamie and Sam both had a knack for hurting themselves, so she'd had a lot of experience playing nurse before.
"I've done this before, so don't worry. My brothers were always hurting themselves somehow."
Whether or not it was reassuring for Brad, it didn't really matter. Terrie was more or less trying to reassure herself that she knew what she was doing. Sam had been the worst about it -- he was always coming into the house all bloody from doing God knows what. For a while, he had gotten into backyard wrestling and he'd made quite the mess of himself, so Terrie'd seen some pretty interesting injuries.
Of course, I've never seen a sword wound before, that's definitely a new one.
He didn't seem to have much to say about her thoughts on beating the game, but really, what had she expected? For him to be all for the idea and to reassure her that nobody in their class was far enough off their rocker to kill somebody? Did she want to hear that nobody would turn on one another and everything would be perfectly fine?
Why would she? She had seen it herself. She had seen Tyson die. She had seen Gabriel hold up Jason's heart. People were already playing, already killing, and already dying. They'd only been awake for a few hours and it had already begun. What happened in a few more hours? Another day?
The island would be consumed in chaos. That's what would happen. Friends would turn on one another, they'd be slaughtered one by one. The thought of it sent chills up her spine, and it was at that moment that she was glad to have some sort of ally, even if his noteworthy reputation preceeded him.
"So," Terrie mused, trying to push all the horrible thoughts into the back of her mind, "This might seem a little forward of me, but I'm going to have to ask you to take off your shirt."
She couldn't help but laugh at the situation. It was awkward at best. When she boarded the bus to attend the graduation trip, she didn't see herself bandaging up another student that she was barely acquainted with a few hours from then. Especially after said student had incurred the injury while saving her life. From a lunatic. With a sword.
She kneeled down, digging through her daypack until she finally located the first aid kit she had been looking for. Unlocking the sides of the case and flipping it open, she analyzed the utensils she'd been given to work with. It wasn't like she had the ability to stitch up the wound or anything, not without making a huge mess and probably not doing it right to begin with, but there had to be something she could do.
"Okay..." Terrie muttered softly, looking up at Brad momentarily and flashing him a brace-filled smile before returning her attention to the kit in front of her, "We've got rubbing alcohol and bandages, so that'll have to work for now. I think the most important thing is to disinfect it. Wouldn't want it festering over with whatever kind of crazy diseases are probably running around in the jungle, right?"
She didn't want to remind him that pouring alcohol into an open wound was probably going to be very painful, especially depending on how deep Gabriel had managed to cut him. Still, a little pain now was better than a lot of pain later, and that's what would happen if the wound wasn't cleaned properly.
After that, all she'd have to do was wrap the bandages around it and have him make sure to keep them changed and maybe re-disinfect the wound every once in a while, and he should be good to go after that. At least, that's what she remembered. Jamie and Sam both had a knack for hurting themselves, so she'd had a lot of experience playing nurse before.
"I've done this before, so don't worry. My brothers were always hurting themselves somehow."
Whether or not it was reassuring for Brad, it didn't really matter. Terrie was more or less trying to reassure herself that she knew what she was doing. Sam had been the worst about it -- he was always coming into the house all bloody from doing God knows what. For a while, he had gotten into backyard wrestling and he'd made quite the mess of himself, so Terrie'd seen some pretty interesting injuries.
Of course, I've never seen a sword wound before, that's definitely a new one.
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Brad merely shrugged at the suggestion of taking his own shirt off. Hmm... A little forward is right, but what choice do I really have? I don't want this wound to end up killing me, right? Terrie really doesn't look like the kind of girl who would know how to do this kind of stuff like an actual nurse, but... it's better than just letting it just sit there and get infected. That's the last thing I would want: To die of an infection. That'd be a pathetic way to end it all. I'll take my chances.
Brad finally broke the silence that had grown between the two of them. "I don't mind it, really. It's not like we're doing anything other than... well, patching this thing up." He really didn't notice the blatant double meaning to what he just said. Without much more hesitation, he slipped both his right and left arms out of the sleeves his torn shirt, moving them down to the bottom. He slid the shirt above his head, the fabric of the shirt rubbing up against his wound, making him wince. As he finally took the shirt off all the way, his left hand took a firm grip of it. He really didn't want to drop it on the ground,
He figured that everything that Terrie was going to apply wasn't going to do anything other than the sting he had just felt. This was only going to be a simple procedure, and it was just going to heal the wound faster. Did he really want to get any of those diseases that Terrie suggested? No. That answer was pretty obvious. The pain was going to go down, and Brad wasn't going to die of blood loss. Perfect...
Until he remembered that she had to disinfect it. And to disinfect it, one would have to apply rubbing alcohol. And rubbing alcohol made wounds burn. Alot.
Brad was very lucky to have never been stabbed or 'shanked' in the state prison he was held up in. He never actually had to feel either the numbing pain nor the burning. While he was sure feeling a blade being pushed through his skin and all the way inside his chest wasn't exactly a good thing, he couldn't help but imagine him crying like a small child if it did. Ugghh.... I really hope this doesn't make me cry. I don't want to cry in front of Terrie of all people. I don't know how she'll react.
"You know," Brad brought up. "I think it might be better if I lay on the ground while you do this. I probably wouldn't be able to stand still when you put that rubbing alcohol on. It's going to probably burn like a bitch... Anything to save you the trouble of having to deal with my squirming and all. I'll just lay down on my shirt, because... well, the rocks are pointy. That's pretty easy to tell."
Without waiting for any sort of answer, Brad spread out his shirt against the ground, jagged slightly by the stones that were scattered around and preceded to get down onto his knees. He flopped his back onto the shirt, although he grunted slightly in discomfort. He let out a long, deep breath. "Alright. I would say that I want this not to take so long, but rushing you may make this son-of-a-bitch hurt even worse than it already is." He chuckled softly, as if her were still trying to forget how he actually received the wound, Or the scorching pain that the alcohol might inflict. Or a combination of the both, perhaps.
Brad finally broke the silence that had grown between the two of them. "I don't mind it, really. It's not like we're doing anything other than... well, patching this thing up." He really didn't notice the blatant double meaning to what he just said. Without much more hesitation, he slipped both his right and left arms out of the sleeves his torn shirt, moving them down to the bottom. He slid the shirt above his head, the fabric of the shirt rubbing up against his wound, making him wince. As he finally took the shirt off all the way, his left hand took a firm grip of it. He really didn't want to drop it on the ground,
He figured that everything that Terrie was going to apply wasn't going to do anything other than the sting he had just felt. This was only going to be a simple procedure, and it was just going to heal the wound faster. Did he really want to get any of those diseases that Terrie suggested? No. That answer was pretty obvious. The pain was going to go down, and Brad wasn't going to die of blood loss. Perfect...
Until he remembered that she had to disinfect it. And to disinfect it, one would have to apply rubbing alcohol. And rubbing alcohol made wounds burn. Alot.
Brad was very lucky to have never been stabbed or 'shanked' in the state prison he was held up in. He never actually had to feel either the numbing pain nor the burning. While he was sure feeling a blade being pushed through his skin and all the way inside his chest wasn't exactly a good thing, he couldn't help but imagine him crying like a small child if it did. Ugghh.... I really hope this doesn't make me cry. I don't want to cry in front of Terrie of all people. I don't know how she'll react.
"You know," Brad brought up. "I think it might be better if I lay on the ground while you do this. I probably wouldn't be able to stand still when you put that rubbing alcohol on. It's going to probably burn like a bitch... Anything to save you the trouble of having to deal with my squirming and all. I'll just lay down on my shirt, because... well, the rocks are pointy. That's pretty easy to tell."
Without waiting for any sort of answer, Brad spread out his shirt against the ground, jagged slightly by the stones that were scattered around and preceded to get down onto his knees. He flopped his back onto the shirt, although he grunted slightly in discomfort. He let out a long, deep breath. "Alright. I would say that I want this not to take so long, but rushing you may make this son-of-a-bitch hurt even worse than it already is." He chuckled softly, as if her were still trying to forget how he actually received the wound, Or the scorching pain that the alcohol might inflict. Or a combination of the both, perhaps.
(Simon Wood (B33) continued from Archangel)
Simon's breathing was steady, despite the speed at which he was moving. Having decided that he would have to be quick to catch up with the others, Simon had ran at maximum pace from the ravine, hoping against hope that he would be able to find Terrie and Brad again. Part of the reason was selfish, Simon knew - there was safety in numbers, although the logic of forming a group in this kind of situation was questionable at best. However, at the same time, Simon had no wish to see any of his classmates killed, and although he wanted to protect Madison, he couldn't exactly abandon the two students he had already met. It went against his grain.
The runner was greatly relieved when he came upon Terrie and Brad after just a little while. He had experienced a terrible feeling of dread as he ran - what if somebody had come upon them and they were already dead? Guilitily, Simon also acknowledged some was fear for his own wellbeing. Someone crazy, like Gabriel, could have jumped out at any second and that would have been the end of Simon Wood.
No matter how much he tried to justify the feelings of fear he was having, Simon felt, for some reason, that he had to be brave and help out others. He had no idea why, it was totally illogical, yet it persisted.
Simon saw Brad had taken his shirt off, and winced when he spotted the deep looking cut that Gabriel had given to him. Terrie seemed to be about to treat it.
"Hey," he called softly. "Don't worry, it's me, Simon,"
Simon's breathing was steady, despite the speed at which he was moving. Having decided that he would have to be quick to catch up with the others, Simon had ran at maximum pace from the ravine, hoping against hope that he would be able to find Terrie and Brad again. Part of the reason was selfish, Simon knew - there was safety in numbers, although the logic of forming a group in this kind of situation was questionable at best. However, at the same time, Simon had no wish to see any of his classmates killed, and although he wanted to protect Madison, he couldn't exactly abandon the two students he had already met. It went against his grain.
The runner was greatly relieved when he came upon Terrie and Brad after just a little while. He had experienced a terrible feeling of dread as he ran - what if somebody had come upon them and they were already dead? Guilitily, Simon also acknowledged some was fear for his own wellbeing. Someone crazy, like Gabriel, could have jumped out at any second and that would have been the end of Simon Wood.
No matter how much he tried to justify the feelings of fear he was having, Simon felt, for some reason, that he had to be brave and help out others. He had no idea why, it was totally illogical, yet it persisted.
Simon saw Brad had taken his shirt off, and winced when he spotted the deep looking cut that Gabriel had given to him. Terrie seemed to be about to treat it.
"Hey," he called softly. "Don't worry, it's me, Simon,"
Terrie raised an eyebrow at Brad's comment, mostly because she didn't really know how to take the whole "It's not like we're doing anything" part of it. She wondered if he realized it had come off sounding a bit weird, but quickly pushed it out of her mind so she could focus on other matters.
"Sounds good," Terrie replied to Brad's suggestion of him laying down to disinfect the wound, "It'll be easier that way anyway. Me pouring it in while you stand up probably wouldn't have much of an effect."
Brad went about removing his shirt and fixing it on the ground as sort of a barrier between himself and the foliage covering the ground. It wasn't much, but she supposed it was better than laying on the ground itself. She moved over and kneeled down, still holding the disinfectant and the bandages in her hands.
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," she laughed, "But it's going to hurt regardless. I think you can handle it though, you seem like a tough guy."
She couldn't help but laugh a little.
"My brother used to cry like a baby when me and mom had to do this."
She unscrewed the cap on the alcohol and readied the bottle over the wound before pouring the cold liquid across Brad's chest and letting it soak into the wound. She wished she had something to clean it out better with, even if it was just a cotton ball or something small, but she hadn't found anything in her kit.
"Sorry," Terrie apologized, assuming that the alcohol burned.
It never seemed to matter how big or small you were, stuff like that always hurt. She recapped the bottle before her attention shot up toward the hill from which they'd came. She was quite surprised to see Simon Wood standing there, although it was more like a relieved kind of surprise than anything else.
"Glad to see you're okay," she smiled at Simon, "We weren't sure what had happened to you back there."
She tossed the bandages absent-mindedly into her right hand and undid the binding holding them together.
"Sit up, 'kay?" Terrie instructed Brad.
Part of her wanted to ask for Simon's assistance in doing this, if only to make sure the bandages were tight enough, but she quickly thought otherwise. It was blatantly obvious that he only had full use of one arm, seeing as the other was bound in a sling, so she'd have only felt bad for asking him to do something he probably couldn't.
"You shouldn't have to worry about it getting infected now, but we've gotta keep it cleaned out and bandaged up."
She felt like she was reading out of one of her mother's old college textbooks. The truth was, Terrie was working herself through the process just as much, if not moreso, than she was working Brad through it. Talking aloud seemed to ease her mind and help her concentrate, though.
"I hope Adam's okay..." she muttered after a moment, her attention turning from Brad back to Simon, "I can't help but feel like we owe him big time."
"Sounds good," Terrie replied to Brad's suggestion of him laying down to disinfect the wound, "It'll be easier that way anyway. Me pouring it in while you stand up probably wouldn't have much of an effect."
Brad went about removing his shirt and fixing it on the ground as sort of a barrier between himself and the foliage covering the ground. It wasn't much, but she supposed it was better than laying on the ground itself. She moved over and kneeled down, still holding the disinfectant and the bandages in her hands.
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," she laughed, "But it's going to hurt regardless. I think you can handle it though, you seem like a tough guy."
She couldn't help but laugh a little.
"My brother used to cry like a baby when me and mom had to do this."
She unscrewed the cap on the alcohol and readied the bottle over the wound before pouring the cold liquid across Brad's chest and letting it soak into the wound. She wished she had something to clean it out better with, even if it was just a cotton ball or something small, but she hadn't found anything in her kit.
"Sorry," Terrie apologized, assuming that the alcohol burned.
It never seemed to matter how big or small you were, stuff like that always hurt. She recapped the bottle before her attention shot up toward the hill from which they'd came. She was quite surprised to see Simon Wood standing there, although it was more like a relieved kind of surprise than anything else.
"Glad to see you're okay," she smiled at Simon, "We weren't sure what had happened to you back there."
She tossed the bandages absent-mindedly into her right hand and undid the binding holding them together.
"Sit up, 'kay?" Terrie instructed Brad.
Part of her wanted to ask for Simon's assistance in doing this, if only to make sure the bandages were tight enough, but she quickly thought otherwise. It was blatantly obvious that he only had full use of one arm, seeing as the other was bound in a sling, so she'd have only felt bad for asking him to do something he probably couldn't.
"You shouldn't have to worry about it getting infected now, but we've gotta keep it cleaned out and bandaged up."
She felt like she was reading out of one of her mother's old college textbooks. The truth was, Terrie was working herself through the process just as much, if not moreso, than she was working Brad through it. Talking aloud seemed to ease her mind and help her concentrate, though.
"I hope Adam's okay..." she muttered after a moment, her attention turning from Brad back to Simon, "I can't help but feel like we owe him big time."
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"Well... I could have guessed that regardless... but you seem to know what you're doing. So... go ahead." Brad closed his eyes, preparing for the worst. And the worst arrived, as expected.
When the alcohol poured into the wound that she was helping him nurse up, Brad really wanted to scream as loudly as a single person could. He could say at that moment, without a doubt, that it was the most painful experience that he's had to endure. Worse than anything that Melissa Diez could have ever inflicted upon him when he was fighting her. Worse than anything that he suffered during his many, many days waiting for his sentence to be heard. It felt even worse than when the sword had struck him, causing the bloody opening that Terrie was healing. And yet... he only let out a tiny whimper. Normally it would be nearly impossible to hold it back, but he found the strength to. Come on Brad. Try to be strong. Try to be strong. This'll all end in just a minute, just give it time and try to be strong.
Brad didn't utter one other peep. He simply sat up like he was told to, albeit with another soft grunt, his hands lifted up at about as high as his shoulders were. When he finally lifted himself up did he notice that the boy with the cast, Simon, had finally caught up to them. Not really needing to say anything else than what Terrie had used, Brad gave the other male a simple nod. Although he still had one question for the kid. "How's Adam? Did he get out alright?"
When the alcohol poured into the wound that she was helping him nurse up, Brad really wanted to scream as loudly as a single person could. He could say at that moment, without a doubt, that it was the most painful experience that he's had to endure. Worse than anything that Melissa Diez could have ever inflicted upon him when he was fighting her. Worse than anything that he suffered during his many, many days waiting for his sentence to be heard. It felt even worse than when the sword had struck him, causing the bloody opening that Terrie was healing. And yet... he only let out a tiny whimper. Normally it would be nearly impossible to hold it back, but he found the strength to. Come on Brad. Try to be strong. Try to be strong. This'll all end in just a minute, just give it time and try to be strong.
Brad didn't utter one other peep. He simply sat up like he was told to, albeit with another soft grunt, his hands lifted up at about as high as his shoulders were. When he finally lifted himself up did he notice that the boy with the cast, Simon, had finally caught up to them. Not really needing to say anything else than what Terrie had used, Brad gave the other male a simple nod. Although he still had one question for the kid. "How's Adam? Did he get out alright?"
"Yeah, it's good to see you guys didn't run into any more trouble too," Simon told Terrie as she continued ministering to the bloody wound on Brad's chest. As the conversation turned to Adam, once again Simon felt inexplicably guilty - couldn't he have done something? Inwardly Simon scolded himself.
Stop thinking about the guy like he's dead! He survived V1, and that was even worse than V2, even if not quite as publicised. I doubt Gabriel could have taken him out that easily. I hope not...
Simon knew that he would have to answer, and he hated doing it. He wanted to say that Adam had walked off, saying he would meet them later. Or something... now he had to admit that he abandoned him to a pyscho.
Jesus! What is up with me? I' m not superman! I don't need to heap expectations on myself. I'm an ordinary kid, who, to boot, has a crippled arm. Just remember that, and I'll be find.
Simon shook his head after he got his thoughts in order.
"Adam crash-tackled Gabriel into the ravine. I've no idea what happened afterwards. But it wasn't that deep. I guess that Adam would have been alright, still... Gabriel is there as well. I don't know what would have ended up happening," Simon paused for a moment, then asked the question he supposed everybody must have been thinking. "So uh... what now?"
Stop thinking about the guy like he's dead! He survived V1, and that was even worse than V2, even if not quite as publicised. I doubt Gabriel could have taken him out that easily. I hope not...
Simon knew that he would have to answer, and he hated doing it. He wanted to say that Adam had walked off, saying he would meet them later. Or something... now he had to admit that he abandoned him to a pyscho.
Jesus! What is up with me? I' m not superman! I don't need to heap expectations on myself. I'm an ordinary kid, who, to boot, has a crippled arm. Just remember that, and I'll be find.
Simon shook his head after he got his thoughts in order.
"Adam crash-tackled Gabriel into the ravine. I've no idea what happened afterwards. But it wasn't that deep. I guess that Adam would have been alright, still... Gabriel is there as well. I don't know what would have ended up happening," Simon paused for a moment, then asked the question he supposed everybody must have been thinking. "So uh... what now?"
She was quite surprised that Brad seemed almost indifferent to the alochol being poured into his wound. She couldn't help but smirk a little as she wondered whether he was putting on a front or whether he was really just that tough. Either way, it was nice to have someone on their side that could tolerate a little pain.
Brad was like a rag doll, simply going through the motions as Terrie instructed. At the very least, he was cooperative. As he raised up, Terrie began wrapping the bandages tightly around his chest. Meanwhile, she was listening in on the conversation between Brad and Simon.
He fell into the ravine? I guess he could have survived it, maybe... sure. But... we should have stayed and helped him, not left him to fight a maniac like that alone. If he dies... it'll be on all our consciences. It'll be our fault... we could have stopped it... we could have helped him... but we didn't.
Terrie finished wrapping the bandages around Brad's chest and tightened them one last time. She barely heard Simon pose his question for being lost in her own thoughts. More than anything, she felt guilty, and she simply couldn't shake the feeling, no matter how hard she tried.
We left him to die.
She rose to her feet and dusted the dirt off of her knees and away from her skirt gently, still not saying anything. Instead, she moved back to her daypack, a few feet away, and reached in to once again grab the first aid kit and put the supplies she'd taken out away. Instead of the first aid kit, though, her hand brushed against something cold.
Terrie's eyes widened and she moved her belongings to the side only to spot what had apparently been her designated weapon -- a gun. Part of her was terrified by the sight of it, but the other part was relieved. She stared down at it dumbfoundedly for a moment and wondered to herself whether she should bring it to the boys' attention or not.
Gabriel'd have killed me if they hadn't stepped in... I shouldn't keep secrets from them. I just hope... they don't get any ideas.
"It's a gun..." she stated quietly, not sure if they would hear her or not.
The tone in her voice was more one of surprise than anything, and it definitely didn't hold any ill will in it. She wasn't entirely sure how to use a gun, she'd never fired one before in her life, but it didn't seem like it would be all that hard to do. Point and shoot, right? Loading it was probably the hardest part.
"If I had looked... if I had known... maybe we could have helped Adam. But... I didn't want to know, because I thought that if I looked, it meant I was giving into the game... but I already have, haven't I? I didn't ever have a choice in the matter... I'm here, whether I like it or not... we all are."
She sighed quietly before tossing the bottle and remaining bandages into the pack and removing her map before zipping it tightly, leaving the gun in the bag. She was scared to take it out, but at the same time, she was even more scared to give it to Brad or Simon for safekeeping. They seemed harmless enough, but who know how quickly they'd turn if they got their hands on it?
"I'd say we need to find shelter," Terrie spoke up, trying to take her mind off of everything, "But from the looks of it, there's not much to be found, and everybody else probably had the same idea. Maybe we'll run into more people that aren't playing... but... someone like Gabriel could always be around too, trying to pick off people who took shelter. I don't know what to do..."
Brad was like a rag doll, simply going through the motions as Terrie instructed. At the very least, he was cooperative. As he raised up, Terrie began wrapping the bandages tightly around his chest. Meanwhile, she was listening in on the conversation between Brad and Simon.
He fell into the ravine? I guess he could have survived it, maybe... sure. But... we should have stayed and helped him, not left him to fight a maniac like that alone. If he dies... it'll be on all our consciences. It'll be our fault... we could have stopped it... we could have helped him... but we didn't.
Terrie finished wrapping the bandages around Brad's chest and tightened them one last time. She barely heard Simon pose his question for being lost in her own thoughts. More than anything, she felt guilty, and she simply couldn't shake the feeling, no matter how hard she tried.
We left him to die.
She rose to her feet and dusted the dirt off of her knees and away from her skirt gently, still not saying anything. Instead, she moved back to her daypack, a few feet away, and reached in to once again grab the first aid kit and put the supplies she'd taken out away. Instead of the first aid kit, though, her hand brushed against something cold.
Terrie's eyes widened and she moved her belongings to the side only to spot what had apparently been her designated weapon -- a gun. Part of her was terrified by the sight of it, but the other part was relieved. She stared down at it dumbfoundedly for a moment and wondered to herself whether she should bring it to the boys' attention or not.
Gabriel'd have killed me if they hadn't stepped in... I shouldn't keep secrets from them. I just hope... they don't get any ideas.
"It's a gun..." she stated quietly, not sure if they would hear her or not.
The tone in her voice was more one of surprise than anything, and it definitely didn't hold any ill will in it. She wasn't entirely sure how to use a gun, she'd never fired one before in her life, but it didn't seem like it would be all that hard to do. Point and shoot, right? Loading it was probably the hardest part.
"If I had looked... if I had known... maybe we could have helped Adam. But... I didn't want to know, because I thought that if I looked, it meant I was giving into the game... but I already have, haven't I? I didn't ever have a choice in the matter... I'm here, whether I like it or not... we all are."
She sighed quietly before tossing the bottle and remaining bandages into the pack and removing her map before zipping it tightly, leaving the gun in the bag. She was scared to take it out, but at the same time, she was even more scared to give it to Brad or Simon for safekeeping. They seemed harmless enough, but who know how quickly they'd turn if they got their hands on it?
"I'd say we need to find shelter," Terrie spoke up, trying to take her mind off of everything, "But from the looks of it, there's not much to be found, and everybody else probably had the same idea. Maybe we'll run into more people that aren't playing... but... someone like Gabriel could always be around too, trying to pick off people who took shelter. I don't know what to do..."
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Brad looked up from his bandages, wrapped tight around his waist covering his wound completely. He had to give it to Terrie. She had actually did a nice patch up job with the wrap, although he was very hesitant to touch it. The alcohol still burned like a bitch, but he figured he had done a good job at pretending that it didn't hurt. Brad gave a soft smirk at the mention of Adam tackling Gabriel off the cliff. In fact, it was enough to make him chuckle under his breath.
"Adam Dodd..." Brad thought out loud. "That son-of-a-bitch...." Everything that he was told about the kid had been true: he was the unlucky hero of the game. If Gabriel was meant to survive, Adam wasn't going to let his soul rest neither. Or... at least that's what Brad was hoping for. He really wanted to thank him face-to-face, even though there was a chance that the two would never see each other again.
Something caught his attention. Brad shook all of his thoughts out of his head.
"You... you have a gun?"
Brad twisted his body from the position he was in on the ground, as if he were expecting to see the gun out in the opening. He would have taken her word for it when she said what it was, but the boy had received a hockey mask of all things! Did everyone else have a better weapon than he did? Brad sighed, slowly trying to pull himself to his feet off of the jagged rocks. His left hand pulled the shirt up with him, which was covered in grains of something he really couldn't identify. Without having to think twice, Brad put his shirt right back on, his hands brushing the dirt that littered the cloth. He adjusted his glasses, sighing again.
"Let's just fucking hope we never have to use that gun."
Brad rustled his hair up with his hand. "Listen Terrie... I was thinking about something you told me when we first stopped here. That you don't understand why we can't save everyone, and that if we all banded together, we might have a chance. An actual chance of beating the system and getting out with all of our lives...
Should I get so worked over this? I mean... I'm not even sure myself if this is even going to work. What if everything that you've been thinking over since the minute you got onto this island.... was it all just a waste of thought and time? Are you really sure that getting their hopes up when they're practically destined to fail is about as stupid a thing one could do... but... I really think that we have a chance to make this work. We're probably the first kids in the whole class who could do all of the right things. We could rise up... but... What if it all blows up in our faces? Then we'd be dead. Then we'd be as dead as doorknobs... and... I really wouldn't care either way...
"And," he continued after a minute to gather his thoughts, " I think that I, out of everyone else, can find it the easiest to believe that we have the chances to rise up. I also believe that just about anyone, no matter who it is, can become a monster who would kill all of his or her friends just to survive... But we can band together. Just because there are freaks like Gabriel who take joy in this type of shit doesn't mean that everyone else is as willing. There have to be some rational kids who really believe that there is a way to win without so much bloodshed. There has to be a way we can overcome this shit. There has to be. Nothing is ever perfect. There are always some holes in the greatest of quilts, whether they be small ones or very noticeable ones."
Brad shook his head. "Maybe I'm just being ignorant, now that I really have not much time left on my hands. I guess you could say that. Maybe I'm trying to justify my so-called optimism as pure logic. But... I do know that the three of us aren't exactly going to be an entire army, especially with the weapons we have. I bet there are kids out there who are willing to join up with us. Who are willing to overcome this fucking game and win. We could beat the system... I'm probably making too much of a big deal of this, and I should just accept that there is no way out of this. That we're as good as dead. I really think that's has shit nothing to do with it, but if that's true, then I'd rather die a dignified death than submitting like a puppy dog..."
He was hesitant about the next part. "I'm sorry if this sounds sudden and a bit strange... but I've got nothing better to lose. Right here, right now... we're going to find people just like us. People who don't want to fight, don't want to kill.... and I don't know either of you too well, but until that point we stick together. We'll cover each others backs. We fight as one. If we run into another Gabriel who's willing to kill the three of us... well... we'll come to that when it happens."
Brad smiled again, shrugging. "What do you guys think? It's not the best plan, the best strategy. Alot of other, much luckier kids are probably doing it... but it's the only thing we've got."
"Adam Dodd..." Brad thought out loud. "That son-of-a-bitch...." Everything that he was told about the kid had been true: he was the unlucky hero of the game. If Gabriel was meant to survive, Adam wasn't going to let his soul rest neither. Or... at least that's what Brad was hoping for. He really wanted to thank him face-to-face, even though there was a chance that the two would never see each other again.
Something caught his attention. Brad shook all of his thoughts out of his head.
"You... you have a gun?"
Brad twisted his body from the position he was in on the ground, as if he were expecting to see the gun out in the opening. He would have taken her word for it when she said what it was, but the boy had received a hockey mask of all things! Did everyone else have a better weapon than he did? Brad sighed, slowly trying to pull himself to his feet off of the jagged rocks. His left hand pulled the shirt up with him, which was covered in grains of something he really couldn't identify. Without having to think twice, Brad put his shirt right back on, his hands brushing the dirt that littered the cloth. He adjusted his glasses, sighing again.
"Let's just fucking hope we never have to use that gun."
Brad rustled his hair up with his hand. "Listen Terrie... I was thinking about something you told me when we first stopped here. That you don't understand why we can't save everyone, and that if we all banded together, we might have a chance. An actual chance of beating the system and getting out with all of our lives...
Should I get so worked over this? I mean... I'm not even sure myself if this is even going to work. What if everything that you've been thinking over since the minute you got onto this island.... was it all just a waste of thought and time? Are you really sure that getting their hopes up when they're practically destined to fail is about as stupid a thing one could do... but... I really think that we have a chance to make this work. We're probably the first kids in the whole class who could do all of the right things. We could rise up... but... What if it all blows up in our faces? Then we'd be dead. Then we'd be as dead as doorknobs... and... I really wouldn't care either way...
"And," he continued after a minute to gather his thoughts, " I think that I, out of everyone else, can find it the easiest to believe that we have the chances to rise up. I also believe that just about anyone, no matter who it is, can become a monster who would kill all of his or her friends just to survive... But we can band together. Just because there are freaks like Gabriel who take joy in this type of shit doesn't mean that everyone else is as willing. There have to be some rational kids who really believe that there is a way to win without so much bloodshed. There has to be a way we can overcome this shit. There has to be. Nothing is ever perfect. There are always some holes in the greatest of quilts, whether they be small ones or very noticeable ones."
Brad shook his head. "Maybe I'm just being ignorant, now that I really have not much time left on my hands. I guess you could say that. Maybe I'm trying to justify my so-called optimism as pure logic. But... I do know that the three of us aren't exactly going to be an entire army, especially with the weapons we have. I bet there are kids out there who are willing to join up with us. Who are willing to overcome this fucking game and win. We could beat the system... I'm probably making too much of a big deal of this, and I should just accept that there is no way out of this. That we're as good as dead. I really think that's has shit nothing to do with it, but if that's true, then I'd rather die a dignified death than submitting like a puppy dog..."
He was hesitant about the next part. "I'm sorry if this sounds sudden and a bit strange... but I've got nothing better to lose. Right here, right now... we're going to find people just like us. People who don't want to fight, don't want to kill.... and I don't know either of you too well, but until that point we stick together. We'll cover each others backs. We fight as one. If we run into another Gabriel who's willing to kill the three of us... well... we'll come to that when it happens."
Brad smiled again, shrugging. "What do you guys think? It's not the best plan, the best strategy. Alot of other, much luckier kids are probably doing it... but it's the only thing we've got."
Simon raised an eyebrow almost unnoticably when he saw Terrie returning the gun to her pack after first discovering it. Simon didn't want to upset her, but he knew that a weapon like that wouldn't be any use inside of a pack, he paused for a moment, uncertain. If he asked her to keep it ready, and she refused, what could he do? It wasn't like Simon could ask her to give the gun over, what would that look like? Simon sighed.
This game... it screws up everything. Trust dies, suspicion crops up, and then somebody panics, the shooting starts, and this whole sick program progresses. Urgh... best just to tell her what I'm thinking.
"Terrie," he said softly. "Don't dwell on what happened with Adam. He didn't make it through the first time round by fluke after all. But... if we're to form a group, we'll need some kind of protection. I hate to say it, but that gun of yours is going to be no use inside of a pack," Simon held up a hand, as if to curtail any response. "But if you don't want to use the thing, then I'm not going to pressure you into it, hell, I respect you keeping to your morals. Just... think about it,"
Simon listened with interest as Brad started to speak. He had a point. There had to be people out there who weren't playing the game, who had drawn the line. Heck, he had encountered four people so far, three of them hadn't wanted to be drawn into the game, and one was most certainly a lunatic - could he be counted amongst the more normal people? Simon wasn't entirely sure.
Even though Brad downplayed the chances they had, Simon knew that they had to believe, had to have something to strive for. Otherwise, you were better off giving in to the urge to kill, or just lie down on the ground and wait to die.
"This is the only way forward Brad," Simon said quietly after the other boy had finished. "It might not be much of a plan, but it's going to be our best shot at getting through this," Simon looked from Brad to Terrie and back again. "I can't just let guys like Gabriel kill the people who I care about. There has to be a way out. And as of now... I'm in," Simon hoped he wasn't making a big mistake in joining a group, but Brad seemed a good guy. That might not have been enough to tip things one way or another, but he had thrown himself in front of a sword to save Terrie. That wasn't how a killer acted. Simon sat down by the brook and wandered what the girl would think of all of this.
This game... it screws up everything. Trust dies, suspicion crops up, and then somebody panics, the shooting starts, and this whole sick program progresses. Urgh... best just to tell her what I'm thinking.
"Terrie," he said softly. "Don't dwell on what happened with Adam. He didn't make it through the first time round by fluke after all. But... if we're to form a group, we'll need some kind of protection. I hate to say it, but that gun of yours is going to be no use inside of a pack," Simon held up a hand, as if to curtail any response. "But if you don't want to use the thing, then I'm not going to pressure you into it, hell, I respect you keeping to your morals. Just... think about it,"
Simon listened with interest as Brad started to speak. He had a point. There had to be people out there who weren't playing the game, who had drawn the line. Heck, he had encountered four people so far, three of them hadn't wanted to be drawn into the game, and one was most certainly a lunatic - could he be counted amongst the more normal people? Simon wasn't entirely sure.
Even though Brad downplayed the chances they had, Simon knew that they had to believe, had to have something to strive for. Otherwise, you were better off giving in to the urge to kill, or just lie down on the ground and wait to die.
"This is the only way forward Brad," Simon said quietly after the other boy had finished. "It might not be much of a plan, but it's going to be our best shot at getting through this," Simon looked from Brad to Terrie and back again. "I can't just let guys like Gabriel kill the people who I care about. There has to be a way out. And as of now... I'm in," Simon hoped he wasn't making a big mistake in joining a group, but Brad seemed a good guy. That might not have been enough to tip things one way or another, but he had thrown himself in front of a sword to save Terrie. That wasn't how a killer acted. Simon sat down by the brook and wandered what the girl would think of all of this.
The two very different responses coming from Simon and Brad in regards to the weapon she had drawn threw her a bit offguard. If anything, she had expected Brad to be the person telling her to keep the gun out of the pack, if not outright demanding it from her. The fact that he seemed as indifferent to it as she did threw her for a loop.
I think I've got him all wrong... just 'cause of stuff that's happened to him in the past, I automatically assumed he was a bad person, but... he seems like such a genuinely nice guy. It makes me wonder why such bad things would happen to someone like that.
And then there was Simon, who for some reason -- probably his injury -- she'd instantly tagged as a complete pacifist, but it seemed that she had been wrong about that too, at least to some degree. It wasn't as though he had asked her to use the gun, but just to keep it out of the bag as some form of protection. In terms of weapons, she definitely had the best.
And besides that, Terrie... weren't you just saying how if you had looked in the bag and known what you got that you might have been able to help Adam back there? But what did you think you were going to do, exactly? Point the gun at Gabriel and tell him to play nice? Sweetheart, you know it doesn't work that way.
She simply couldn't understand why she felt so conflicted about taking the gun out of the bag, loading it, and holding into it, but for some reason the thought of it ate away at her. She was afraid that if she took it out of the bag, she'd have to use it, and Terrie didn't want to think about having to shoot at someone with it.
She didn't want to think she'd be attacked again. She wanted to believe that their encounter with Gabriel had been a fluke and that pretty much everybody else on the island was still completely sane. The truth was, she knew they weren't. She had heard the gunshots from across the island plain as day. She had hidden in the bushes and watched as Bobby Jacks killed Tyson Neills.
One by one, they were snapping, and they were giving in.
"Fine..." Terrie uttered quietly before sliding down against the base of a nearby tree and fishing out the gun, the ammunition, and the instruction manual.
It was about that time that Brad spoke up, repeating the thoughts she'd confided in him some time before and suggesting that they band together and try to find other people who were doing the same. Some people had snapped, and Terrie had seen it with her own eyes, but surely there were still some sane people on the island.
People like her, and Brad, and Simon. If they could all band together and show everyone that they weren't playing, maybe they could even talk the people who wanted to 'play' out of it. Maybe it was possible that, with a large enough group, they could convince all the players that there was another way out. Maybe they could really find one.
"Do you really believe that?" the asked Brad, sounding hopeful, "I want to, I really do... I wanna believe that we can beat this thing, that we can find the way out that nobody has before. Besides that, what other choice do we have? If we fail, it's game over, but if we sit around and wait to die, it's still gonna be the same result. And..."
Her voice trailed off momentarily and she closed her eyes.
"I don't want to die..."
Who did? She could have never even suspected that the grad trip would bring her to the final days of her life. She had had so many plans after high school was over. She was off to college, probably to follow in her father's footsteps as a pharmacist. She wanted to get married, have a family, lead a happy life.
Not die on some island in the middle of nowhere.
It took her a few more minutes to leaf through the instruction manual and several more to actually load the gun. Once it was loaded it felt strange and foreign in her hands and made her uncomfortable, but she tried to shake the feelings away. She was far too afraid to hand it to either Brad or Simon, for now, at least.
"So what do you think, then?" she asked, still remaining in her seated position against the tree. She was more exhausted than she was willing to let on at the moment, "Should we stay here and wait for people to come to us... or go look for more groups?"
I think I've got him all wrong... just 'cause of stuff that's happened to him in the past, I automatically assumed he was a bad person, but... he seems like such a genuinely nice guy. It makes me wonder why such bad things would happen to someone like that.
And then there was Simon, who for some reason -- probably his injury -- she'd instantly tagged as a complete pacifist, but it seemed that she had been wrong about that too, at least to some degree. It wasn't as though he had asked her to use the gun, but just to keep it out of the bag as some form of protection. In terms of weapons, she definitely had the best.
And besides that, Terrie... weren't you just saying how if you had looked in the bag and known what you got that you might have been able to help Adam back there? But what did you think you were going to do, exactly? Point the gun at Gabriel and tell him to play nice? Sweetheart, you know it doesn't work that way.
She simply couldn't understand why she felt so conflicted about taking the gun out of the bag, loading it, and holding into it, but for some reason the thought of it ate away at her. She was afraid that if she took it out of the bag, she'd have to use it, and Terrie didn't want to think about having to shoot at someone with it.
She didn't want to think she'd be attacked again. She wanted to believe that their encounter with Gabriel had been a fluke and that pretty much everybody else on the island was still completely sane. The truth was, she knew they weren't. She had heard the gunshots from across the island plain as day. She had hidden in the bushes and watched as Bobby Jacks killed Tyson Neills.
One by one, they were snapping, and they were giving in.
"Fine..." Terrie uttered quietly before sliding down against the base of a nearby tree and fishing out the gun, the ammunition, and the instruction manual.
It was about that time that Brad spoke up, repeating the thoughts she'd confided in him some time before and suggesting that they band together and try to find other people who were doing the same. Some people had snapped, and Terrie had seen it with her own eyes, but surely there were still some sane people on the island.
People like her, and Brad, and Simon. If they could all band together and show everyone that they weren't playing, maybe they could even talk the people who wanted to 'play' out of it. Maybe it was possible that, with a large enough group, they could convince all the players that there was another way out. Maybe they could really find one.
"Do you really believe that?" the asked Brad, sounding hopeful, "I want to, I really do... I wanna believe that we can beat this thing, that we can find the way out that nobody has before. Besides that, what other choice do we have? If we fail, it's game over, but if we sit around and wait to die, it's still gonna be the same result. And..."
Her voice trailed off momentarily and she closed her eyes.
"I don't want to die..."
Who did? She could have never even suspected that the grad trip would bring her to the final days of her life. She had had so many plans after high school was over. She was off to college, probably to follow in her father's footsteps as a pharmacist. She wanted to get married, have a family, lead a happy life.
Not die on some island in the middle of nowhere.
It took her a few more minutes to leaf through the instruction manual and several more to actually load the gun. Once it was loaded it felt strange and foreign in her hands and made her uncomfortable, but she tried to shake the feelings away. She was far too afraid to hand it to either Brad or Simon, for now, at least.
"So what do you think, then?" she asked, still remaining in her seated position against the tree. She was more exhausted than she was willing to let on at the moment, "Should we stay here and wait for people to come to us... or go look for more groups?"
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Simon was in. The thought of him blindly putting his trust into an idea that had a rather large chance of failing made Brad feel much better. He smiled. He had been expecting him to think that he was full of shit and that he didn't want to die. It made Brad feel good to see that someone had actually AGREED with something that Brad had come up with, which was a very open change. Brad knew he wasn't the leader of the group. He could never handle that sort of responsibility, especially when he was leading a bunch of kids he really didn't know all too well.
Hell... there might be a slim, possible chance that we might make it out of her with our lives.
Then there was Terrie. She seemed quite doubtful of his plan, even though to him she sounded hopeful. Brad thought about the questions she had just posed him. Well... staying here seems like a very good idea, since we can rest... but what if that sick-fuck Gabriel comes after us? What if he got away from Adam and followed Simon all the way here? And what if another crazy just decides to play Kamikaze with his bomb and blow us all to bits...
"Well... I'm not exactly an expert on this kind of stuff..." Brad began, slightly frustrated. "I think that you're right about how someone like that sword dude Gabriel lurching around waiting for unsuspecting people... but finding a good place to rest is the best thing we've got. Resting here is a good idea, but we're going to meet up with someone else eventually. Our chances are going to be so much better if we have a good place to hide when that time comes...
Brad looked down at Terrie, noticing that she had just loaded her pistol. "Heh... Since you've received a gun, I think we could handle ourselves... well, if you can actually fire it, that is. Trust me, I think that you shouldn't load it so quickly. If we do run into another group of kids and they see that you have a gun, I don't know what they'd think. Not to mention what..." he stared at Simon for a moment. "... whatever the hell that you have. I think that it's a bad thing when you have a weapon that looks like a gun out of a Sci-Fi movie. Tend to make people think.
"But back on track. If some idiot does try to cut us down, I think we could hold them off with the weapons we have. Not to mention..." Brad chuckled, looking away for a minute. "I may might not look it, but I can hold myself in a fight..."
"And there's the thing... I really would like to think that finding all the kinds that are looking for a way out of this game will be enough, but it isn't. The fact of the matter is that we need to find the kids who just don't know. The ones who think that their only choice is to play. We need them too. We need to find a way to convince them that there are other choices other than killing and dying. The kids from the other games were too chicken shit to take the risks necessary to try and win over the system, and I'm here to tell you both that this is where we prove all those people wrong. If we do try to win and die, then we just wasted or time. But, if we do play the game and die, then we just wasted the exact amount of time. So what's the point if we die trying to break the rules."
Brad chuckled again. "I've got nothing better to lose. None of us wants to die I'm sure of that. The will to live isn't going to cut it in this case, however much I wish it did. I know you don't want to die Terrie, but I think trying something that no one's ever put all of their energy into is a better chance at life than it is playing this game. So... the plan is to find a place to hide and others who are willing to come along with us. We'll brainstorm after that.
"But I'm not the fearless leader of this group. Do you guys think that's a good plan?"
Hell... there might be a slim, possible chance that we might make it out of her with our lives.
Then there was Terrie. She seemed quite doubtful of his plan, even though to him she sounded hopeful. Brad thought about the questions she had just posed him. Well... staying here seems like a very good idea, since we can rest... but what if that sick-fuck Gabriel comes after us? What if he got away from Adam and followed Simon all the way here? And what if another crazy just decides to play Kamikaze with his bomb and blow us all to bits...
"Well... I'm not exactly an expert on this kind of stuff..." Brad began, slightly frustrated. "I think that you're right about how someone like that sword dude Gabriel lurching around waiting for unsuspecting people... but finding a good place to rest is the best thing we've got. Resting here is a good idea, but we're going to meet up with someone else eventually. Our chances are going to be so much better if we have a good place to hide when that time comes...
Brad looked down at Terrie, noticing that she had just loaded her pistol. "Heh... Since you've received a gun, I think we could handle ourselves... well, if you can actually fire it, that is. Trust me, I think that you shouldn't load it so quickly. If we do run into another group of kids and they see that you have a gun, I don't know what they'd think. Not to mention what..." he stared at Simon for a moment. "... whatever the hell that you have. I think that it's a bad thing when you have a weapon that looks like a gun out of a Sci-Fi movie. Tend to make people think.
"But back on track. If some idiot does try to cut us down, I think we could hold them off with the weapons we have. Not to mention..." Brad chuckled, looking away for a minute. "I may might not look it, but I can hold myself in a fight..."
"And there's the thing... I really would like to think that finding all the kinds that are looking for a way out of this game will be enough, but it isn't. The fact of the matter is that we need to find the kids who just don't know. The ones who think that their only choice is to play. We need them too. We need to find a way to convince them that there are other choices other than killing and dying. The kids from the other games were too chicken shit to take the risks necessary to try and win over the system, and I'm here to tell you both that this is where we prove all those people wrong. If we do try to win and die, then we just wasted or time. But, if we do play the game and die, then we just wasted the exact amount of time. So what's the point if we die trying to break the rules."
Brad chuckled again. "I've got nothing better to lose. None of us wants to die I'm sure of that. The will to live isn't going to cut it in this case, however much I wish it did. I know you don't want to die Terrie, but I think trying something that no one's ever put all of their energy into is a better chance at life than it is playing this game. So... the plan is to find a place to hide and others who are willing to come along with us. We'll brainstorm after that.
"But I'm not the fearless leader of this group. Do you guys think that's a good plan?"