Survival Of The Fittest

((Sophie McDowell, Megan Emerson, Grace Faraday and Alexander De Gaulle continued from The Red Shoes.))

((Gavin Hunter continued from Calamity.))

((All writing credit to this post goes to Ghost of Ravenstar, Laurels, JillSandwich93, Randomness, and Firedog. All GMing was approved.))

((Note: This post had to be split into two parts as apparently Zetaboards doesn't like processing more than 30 pages of text in one go. Yes, it's that long.))

The apartment complexes that littered the south side of town were not the most charming of places to end up in. They were for the most part unsightly hulks of crumbling stone and corroded metal, standing (or swaying) as silent proof that even a supposedly affluent tourist community still needed its fair share of minimum-wage slaves to keep it operating efficiently. No other section of town had so quickly fallen into disrepair, for the buildings here had been designed using the cheapest materials and labour, leaving them far more susceptible to the elements than places like the mansions or the gated community.

The apartment complexes were, in short, not an idyllic place to spend the night in. However, they had the advantage of being anonymous. Nowhere else in the whole town presented so many good hiding places. A small group could hide here from a rampaging mob and expect them to have worked themselves to exhaustion before managing to search through even half of the ugly, square buildings which towered above them. A bloody murder could be going on in one of those buildings right this instant and nobody from the street would have had any way to tell.

Gavin Hunter led his little band of students down one of these streets now. He was tired; they all were. The extra supplies he had loaded them all down with had made the long trip from the shopping centre to the town harder than it needed to have been, and they had stopped several times to take breaks and ease the weight from their shoulders. But even with the breaks, he could tell that his band was starting to flag. His own back was starting to ache; he needed rest, like everybody else.

To this end, Gavin trudged on until he was standing at the entrance of the apartment block that stood closest to the great expanse of sand that marked the beginning of the western beach. It was there that Gavin was supposed to meet Karen Idel, and he chose this building as it had the best view of the area.

It was with a great sense of relief that he swung open the rusty courtyard gate and showed the rest of his group inside. The main doors to the block were hanging ajar, as Gavin had expected them to be. He suspected that most of the doors would be open, and any that weren't would be pathetically easy to break down after all these years.

Once they had all filed into the reception area, Gavin swung his cursedly heavy pack down off his shoulders and turned to address the rest of the group. Although nobody had officially appointed him as leader, he felt a strange obligation to make a speech. Therefore, he allowed himself to be the first to break the tired silence that had existed between them for some time now.

"We're here," he began somewhat inadequately, but then continued in a more confident voice. "I apologise for any discomfort you've endured during this trip, but I can only express my sincere thanks that you consented to help carry my supplies for me such a long way. If you'd be kind enough to leave them here for me, I'll cart them up to a room myself after I've picked one and had a brief rest. I might be going out again later, just to grab some more materials from a few of the shops we passed on the way down, but rest assured that I'll be back well before dark. Please, make yourselves comfortable, and thank you again for your help."

Gavin cleared his throat, feeling slightly awkward. The speech had been excessively formal, but sincere despite that. Unable to think of anything else much to say, and feeling a blush coming to his cheeks, he turned and slumped into the nearest chair in the lobby. It creaked alarming under his weight, but after a brief moment of architectural uncertainty, decided to remain intact. Gavin had no intention of moving again for a long while.

"It's fine. I'm just glad to help," Sophie said as she handed her bag over to Gavin. Removing the heavy bag from her shoulders was a relief. She figured she could jump a lot higher with the extra weight burned off. She wiggled her shoulders around as she looked at the area around her.

It wasn't the most scenic location they could have found to hide out in, but it would do for now. Gavin had shown her the sheet of paper, and they needed to wait for his friend, Karen, to show up tomorrow to discuss how to escape. Sophie found herself feeling extra giddy when she read the paper. These two really did have hopes of escaping. Sure, it seemed a bit rough from what Karen wrote, but perhaps Karen found the one kid who could remove the collars with ease.

Sophie sat on the floor of the reception area and removed the slippers. While they had ultimately served their purpose, they did provide a bit of discomfort. Her feet were covered, but the soles weren't the thickest, so she felt every impression on the ground as they walked. Her feet looked fine, but she needed to take a few minutes to rub them in order to remove the feeling of the ground's impressions.

Sophie began to rub her feet.

"Hey, does someone have something to drink? I'm a bit thirsty," she asked the others.

Alex felt glad that he was once again in an area that he could rest easily. His spirits had been greatly lifted with a simple piece of paper that had been shown to him on the way over. He was in a large group of friendly people and he genuinely believed he had a chance of surviving.

Alex put his duffel down and dug out a mostly finished bottle of water. He made sure Sophie was paying attention before tossing it to her and saying, "Here, this should have enough water for a few drinks." Alex had done a good job of rationing his water and though he had a dry mouth, he still had a few bottles left.

"Oh, thanks!" Sophie said as she caught the bottle. She took a quick sip and sighed in relief.

Finding a chair to sit down in Alex looked out across the group and let out a wide smile. He really thought that there was a chance they would all live.

Grace felt horrid seeing the others' fatigue as they placed their bags down. She had carried close to nothing a good portion of the way, only managing to get Gavin to pass the bag to her near the end of the park. It didn't seem fair to the rest of them who had carried their bags the entire way.

She slumped herself against a wall, searching through the bag for some food. Hunger was starting to set in. She hadn't eaten much, had she? One crummy ration bar and a tin of what had looked like baked beans but had ended up tasting sufficiently unlike it to make her worry.

"Anyone else want a can of... Well, I think this is tuna at least." she said, after peeking at a promising looking tin.

Megan threw her duffel bag by Gavin and collapsed to the floor, using it as a makeshift pillow. God, she was tired. Climbing that tower and getting lost in the woods on the first day was bad enough, but being a pack mule for Gavin's random shit was what broke the camel's back. Her clothes were one with her now. She thought about changing into the other set of clothes she had (minus the one she lent to Mirabella as a makeshift tissue and never got back) the night before, but it seemed like it was good intuition to hold off on it. Then again, what she really needed was a long, hot shower, but what can you do?

Megan lay there daydreaming as the people around her began to talk. Grace mentioned something about tuna, but Megan didn't feel ready to take the risk yet. She was hungry enough to eat at Arby's by this point, but the fact that some of the sell-by labels expired when she was like nine years old frightened her. As bad as getting shot at, or being stabbed, or bleeding out, or being pushed down a set of stairs was, botulism was terrifying. Maybe it was something silly to freak over, but she couldn't not think about it.

After a few moments to settle down, Megan opened her bag and grabbed the rest of the rations she worked on during the day. She stood up and walked down the hall away from the reception area. "I'm gonna take a look around. Make sure we're, ya know, alone; that kind of thing."

"I'll go with you if you like."

Gavin surprised himself by saying this. He was tired, emotionally as well as physically drained, wanting nothing more than to sleep for several hours. Yet he also knew there were still things he needed to do before the day was out, and any excuse to get up and keep moving was a good one so long as it helped stave off encroaching unconsciousness.

The chair creaked as he pushed himself upright again, the old wood protesting at the weight of his body straining joints that hadn't been disturbed in close to a decade. If he let himself fall asleep here, he'd wake up in agony. It was better to keep moving, despite his tiredness. The pretext of exploring the building made as good an excuse as any other.

Megan whipped around to see Gavin getting up from his chair. "Oh, no no no. I'll be okay," she shook her head while running up to him. She pushed him back down in the chair. "You should stay here, make sure no one takes our bags."

Megan scanned the room for the other companions. "…Not that it's like I don't trust anyone here! It's just, ya know, you'd be the hardest person to take down out of all of us. You found that gun, right? Just sit down, and I'll be back. Don't worry."

Gavin grudgingly let himself be pushed back down into his seat. "Alright then," he conceded grudgingly. "I'll try and keep my eyes open for a little while longer."

He softened his tone as Megan began to turn away. "Be careful, this place probably isn't very safe to be wandering around in. I wouldn't put my trust in the stability of the upper floors if I was you. Not after a decade of neglect, anyway."

Megan rolled her eyes as she kept walking. Yeah, yeah, Gavin.

Sophie stretched her arms in the air. Being a dancer, she knew she had to keep her limbs stretched and in good shape or else she could be in real trouble.

"Well, Grace, Alex, or I could go with you if you'd like," Sophie said to Megan. "There's not much else for us to do now other than take inventory of the canned goods, so I'm sure any of us would be willing to help."

"Yeah," Megan responded to Sophie. "Good point. Just one other person should be fine, 'case something happens. Anyone wanna go?"

"I'll go. I'd like to take a look around anyway," said Grace. It was a half lie, but she decided that helping out would be better. If she didn't go, she probably would just sit at the side doing nothing. Might as well do something while she still had some motivation.

Grace seemed cool enough, so Megan had no complaints. Then again, she did have a gun, so maybe it was the exact opposite.

"All right then. Grace and I will check the building out, so just sit tight." Megan nodded her head at Grace before making her way down the hall again. "Let's go."

Alex watched the two go off before raising his head off the back of the chair and looking at the two companions left in the room. It was clear that both of them were as tired as him but Alex wanted to make some sort of conversation. The best he could come up with was a half-hearted joke, "Either of you want to learn French?"

"Oh, I know a bit of French," Sophie said to Alex. "Mostly from songs my Mom taught me, like ‘La vie en rose' and ‘Le temps de l'amour.' I could teach you guys those songs as well."

Sophie chuckled. The idea of Gavin and Alex singing Edith Piaf or Francoise Hardy sounded pretty hilarious to her. Then again, she knew Alex had a decent voice from choir, and Gavin might secretly be Andrea Boccelli under the trenchcoat, so there was no telling what they would sound like.

"Not for me, thanks," Gavin said, raising a hand in a brief dismissal of the notion before letting it fall back to the arm of his chair with a thud and a creaking noise. "I don't particularly like French. My voice is too deep for it. I could probably manage a decent Heart of Oak if anybody is interested, though. Or the Russian National Anthem."

Alex thought about learning the songs but then replied, "I guess no to the music then, to be honest I didn't have the energy to teach any French either." Alex's stomach then began to grumble. Though he had been rationing his food so that he wouldn't be hungry, he realized that he had been doing it for someone that had a normal metabolism.

"Fuck, I haven't been eating enough food." Sophie seemed to be the closest to the canned foods so Alex addressed her next, "Can you throw me any food that looks like it might taste good and be filling?"

"Oh, sure," Sophie said.

Sophie began to search through the bag of canned food. Even though the food was long expired, there had to be something that would be slightly safe to eat.

Gavin spotted what Sophie was doing and raised himself up in his chair again, slowly flexing his muscles to work some life back into them. Then he bent forward and opened Megan's pack, plucking out an aluminium can and bringing it up to his ear. He shook it a few times, heard a faint sloshing sound, then placed it back inside the bag with a shrug.

"Probably more baked beans," he said disinterestedly, then lifted his head to look at the other two. "You can kind of tell what's inside by the way they sound and feel when you shake them. Soft stuff like baked beans just slosh about, but harder stuff like pineapple chunks or carrots tend to bump against the sides of the tin under your fingers. I learned that yesterday."

He grinned aimlessly and leant back in his chair, which obliged him with another creak of protest. It was nice to be talking about something other than personal issues or the violence of classmates.

Gavin's lesson in how to determine what was in the cans peaked Alex's interest, mostly just the part about the food though. "See if you can get me some pineapple chunks then. I really love those." Alex prepared his taste buds for the tropical taste he was hoping for; it would suck if what he got was something else and his flavors would be mixed up, but he wouldn't waste anything else he got.

"This place feels oddly like home when you forget what home feels like." Alex tried to use his imagination to fill in his computer and other amenities that he didn't have. "I'm sure if I could right now I would just be aimlessly browsing the internet, possibly reading some manga or watching anime. It's kind of funny to think that that was what I was doing just… however long ago." He thought about how long ago they had been abducted. He knew he had been on the island for two days, but he had no idea how long they had been kept unconscious before they woke them up and threw them out.

Alex stood up and moved over to Sophie to start looking through the cans with her. Unfortunately most of the cans he picked up were soft things when he tested them. Searching for a can wasn't really a two person job but it felt better to be close to someone than it did to be sitting alone.

"Yeah, how long do you think we've been missing?" Sophie asked as she looked at one of the cans. She was having trouble reading the faded label, but she decided to go ahead and open it.

"I mean, the authorities would have had to have noticed that we've gone missing, right? Should someone be looking for us?"

Sophie smelled the contents of the can. It smelled strange, but it slightly resembled tuna or canned crab.

"Maybe this stuff might be better on the crackers," she noted.

"We haven't been missing long," Gavin said decisively. "Keeping someone sedated for a long period of time leaves the muscles atrophied due to the physical inactivity, so we weren't unconscious for very long."

He raised a hand and scratched at his chin, feeling the thick crop of stubble that seemed to be growing at a rate of inches. "Plus I've only got about four days growth on my beard, since I shaved right before the trip. That means we've been gone less than a week, unless some terrorist was kind enough to give all the boys a shave before dropping them on the island."

Sophie chuckled. She could picture a squad of menacing terrorists giving all the boys in the class shaves in old-timey barber chairs using straight razors. She could then imagine the female terrorists giving all the girls pedicures and manicures while gossiping about how one male terrorist was totally cheating on a female terrorist. It was an image she'd love to have seen.

Alex looked over at the can Sophie had opened up and reached his hand over to take a small pinch of it. After doing so he took it to his mouth and tried to appreciate the flavor. It was definitely seafood-y, but with its considerable age it was hard to discern what it was.

"Yeah, this would be better on crackers. We can probably share one of the tins from the rations." Alex reached into what he thought was his duffel and took out a tin and opened it; doing so he held it out to Sophie. "Hungry?"

"Oh, definitely," Sophie said, reaching for a cracker from Alex's tin. She dipped the cracker in the can of Something and scooped some out. She lifted it up and quickly put the whole cracker in her mouth.

Sophie felt herself quickly gag, but she quickly chewed the cracker regardless. It has a metallic and sour taste to it, but it was still protein, so she had to be brave and swallow it all down.

"Mmmm," she said, wiping her mouth, "divine!"

"I'm sure it is," said Gavin with a small smirk. "I think I'll stick to the ration bars, personally. Bland beats ancient any day."

He shifted himself a little further upright, groaning slightly as he placed pressure on already strained muscles. It would've been nice to stay slumped in the chair a while longer, but time simply didn't permit it. With a substantial effort and much creaking from the chair beneath him, Gavin pushed himself to his feet and took a few experimental steps to get his circulation going again.

"When Megan comes back, I'm going out again," he explained. "I need to go see if there's a gardening supply store and a sporting goods store somewhere in town. They've got the last few supplies I need for my project."


Grace followed Megan down the hall into the interior of the building. The lighting was a little too dim for her taste but it was more than enough to see by.

Two girls exploring a dim hallway on the middle of Murder Island. It all seemed so surreal, like some movie set brought to life. And yet, it somehow seemed so ordinary at the same time, plain walls, a couple doors to who knows where and a concrete stairwell at the end of the hallway.

"So," she paused, not sure what to say. "You and Gavin are pretty close, huh? Have you guys known each other long?" she said, while trying one of the doors. The door didn't budge.

"Not really," Megan said as she tried to open one of the doors. No good here either. She kept walking along, checking for any doors that might still actually open. "I've only known him since the end of sophomore year, I think? Beginning of junior year? Something like that."

Megan tried to think back to when she first met Gavin, but she just couldn't remember. Jeez, was this like how getting old felt, that you can't remember something from just two years ago?

"Two years, huh? Feels like a long time to me." Grace looked down a moment.

Two years. It'd been that long since she had moved over from Mannheim. And in that time, she'd barely kept up with her old friends. They had been pretty close while she was there, but the moment she left, it was as if they didn't exist anymore. She was a bad friend, wasn't she?

"Yeah, I guess. Then again, I've only been in Seattle for, like, three years, and it sure as hell feels longer than that." Megan tried another door. And…no luck. The lock was jammed.

"Gah, looks like there's nothing here, wanna try upstairs?" Grace asked, irritated at all the locked doors. Why the hell was this island deserted anyway? They seemed to have time to prepare to leave given that they remembered to lock the doors. Why did they lock the doors in the first place?

Megan nodded her head. "Yeah, let's check out the upper floors." She thought about suggesting to break down the locked doors, but she had way enough physical exertion for one day.

A cursory look at the upper floors gave similar results, empty rooms and locked doors most of the way. Perhaps there were a couple things of interest kept hidden in pantries or closets, but for her part, Grace didn't search very thoroughly. It was good enough that there was no one else here.

There was only one door left: the access for the roof.

Megan turned the handle on the marked door with ease, and it opened up to the flat, gray landscape with a gorgeous view.

The late-afternoon skyline of the ocean and beach stunned Megan. The orange of the sky and beach touching the blue of the endless water was a sight to behold. The sea of buildings fading into trees wasn't a bad view either, but that beach… Even with its imperfections like the ugly ass ship cutting into the scenery from one angle, it was a vista.

Megan gazed past the shore's horizon, wondering if she and Grace would be the last people to see this.

"You know," Grace leaned against a guardrail. "The Nazi's had a theory about ruin value, or ruinenwert as they said. And so they built huge structures that would stand the test of time. I saw some of them in my couple years in Germany. Big hunks of junk. But the view of this town makes me think, maybe they were right about something."

Grace looked back up at Megan before laughing a little. "And you were looking in the other direction the whole time."

"…Hmm?" Megan broke from her trance and turned to Grace, who was facing the opposite side of the roof. "Oh, yeah." She looked back at the beach skyline. "You're a military kid, right? Were one of your parents stationed at Germany?"

"Yeah. My dad was stationed at Taylor Barracks for a couple years. Mannheim's a nice city. Nice people in camp too. Quite liked my time there.

"But the whole thing's gone now. They passed it back to the German government shortly after we moved back to the States. I've got no idea where half my friends are now."

"Tch. That blows." And here Megan thought she was really distanced from her old friends. Poor Grace had friends all the way across the Atlantic that she had no clue where they were. At least if Karen actually had a plan to escape and they all got off the island, Grace's old friends could easily find her.

Megan stepped to the other side of the roof where Grace was. The ruins of the town did have some sort of beauty to it. Maybe the Nazis were right about one thing.

"I bet Germany was cool. It probably didn't rain every other day like in Seattle, but I wouldn't know. I've never been out of the U.S. Plus, I'm terrible in Geography. I didn't even know there was a Mountain Time Zone until last month. God knows how I ever passed the 7th grade."

"l take it you never liked Geog. I never liked the subject or the teachers but somehow my grades still turned out alright. I don't know why but it was sort of irritating, really, doing well in a subject I hated."

Grace stared out at the town a little longer. If the building were a little taller she could probably be able to see the ocean on this side as well. It reminded her of the view from the Space Needle, the edge of the coast curving off into the distance.

"Yeah, Germany was great. Mild weather year round. The Rhine was cool too and we had a forest right across from the barracks. I never really got used to Seattle. The cold. The rain. The endless clouds. But you know what? Now that I'm stuck here I really miss it all."

"Yeah, me too." Megan looked over the city one last time and sighed. Too bad Francis or Bella or Theo or Hansel or anyone else weren't here to see this view.

Shit, that was right. Megan was going to have to say something to Alex, Grace, and Sophie about Francis before tomorrow's announcement. What should she do, though? Tell them each one-by-one? Together in a group? Put it off and just see what happened? This would be the perfect time to tell Grace, but how would she react?

After quite a bit of silence, Megan spoke up. Better now than never. "Grace... can I tell you something? You... uhm... have to promise to keep it to yourself, though. At least for right now." She started to chew her bottom lip.

"Hmm? Yeah, go ahead." Grace nodded. "Don't worry. I can keep a secret."

"You know Francis St. Ledger? Blonde guy, played on the soccer team, was nice when he wasn't a bi- ...uh, wasn't mad?"

"Sorta. Not really well though. Why?"

"Oh. Well, uh, anyway, you could say we found each other last night. This morning, though, we got into a fight, and... well... it happened so fast... uhm, we were arguing, and he was grabbing me trying to calm me down, and I wouldn't listen to him and... and..."

Megan swallowed hot spit and mumbled out, "I ...I pushed him down a set of stairs." Whelp, here we go.

"What? I- I don't... You... Um... " Grace's sentence was followed by equally incoherent hand gestures. Grace looked at her hands for a moment, caught aback by the what Megan had said.

"Is he-" Grace didn't need to finish the sentence. If Megan was saying this that meant that Francis was clearly dead. But she had to ask anyway.

"You really- He's really... d-dead?" The last word felt wrong, as if simply saying cut right through her.

After a brief moment of silence, Megan nodded her head. "But it was an accident. He grabbed me here," Megan wrapped her free right hand around her left arm. "He did it twice, and I wanted him to let me go, so I... well..." Her eyes fell down.

"I told Gavin about it back at the mall, which was...well, yeah. I haven't gotten the chance to tell Alex or Sophie yet, though, but I'm scared to. But, I have to tell them before tomorrow. These terrorists can spin swatting a fly into second-degree murder, and I damn well don't want for us to turn on each other; that's giving them exactly what they want!"

Megan clasped her hands together and stared through Grace's eyes. "You don't have to believe me; that's not what I want. But what I need is your trust. So, please... just trust me... please..."

"I understand. I think I do anyway." Grace looked back at Megan.

"I think you're a good person. And sometimes, sometimes good people sometimes do horrible things without meaning to."

"So I think I'm gonna trust you. I mean, I sorta don't really have another option do I?" She put a hand on Megan's shoulder. "I'll help you out with the others if you need me too, but I think they'd understand. 'sides, you've got Gavin on your side too."

Megan let out a sigh of relief. "Th..." She nodded her head. "...Thanks, Grace." That certainly went better than expected.

After some time, Megan broke from Grace's grasp and headed for the door back down to the apartments. "We should probably get back before Gavin's separation anxiety sets in."

"Yeah. We should go." Grace took a final glance at the landscape before her. How much longer would they be stuck here?

Leaving that question hanging, Grace went for the door back into the building.


Grace and Megan returned to the reception area of the apartment building where the others were waiting. "We're back," said Megan.

Sophie turned and waved as Grace and Megan returned.

"Welcome back!"

That's when she remembered something. Gavin said he was going to go out looking for tools. She might be able to make his job a little easier. Sophie pulled her bag over and began to search through it.

Gavin smiled to the two girls as they returned from their explorations. Since he was already standing, he walked towards the two to make his greetings.

"Welcome back," he said warmly. "Did you find anything useful?"

"Uh uh, we-" Megan began.

"Hey Gavin," Sophie said at that exact moment, "I know you need tools. Is this one you might need?"

Gavin half-turned in order to add Sophie to his field of vision, then realised she was holding a monkey wrench out to him. He examined it critically. The wrench was big, large enough to make a decent bludgeoning weapon in a pinch, which made sense considering that it was supposed to be used for exactly that purpose. He frowned, then glanced over to his (really Xavier's) pack, which had his lead pipe stuffed into it. If nothing else, the monkey wrench wouldn't be in danger of deforming after a few good whacks.

"Sure, thanks," he said gratefully, reaching out to take the offered tool from Sophie's hands. "You can have my lead pipe in exchange if you like. It's not as versatile as a monkey wrench, but it'll probably make you a better weapon."

"Oh, sure," Sophie said, taking the lead pipe from Gavin in exchange for the monkey wrench. She placed the pipe in her bag and zipped it up.

Once he had the wrench in his hands, Gavin switched his attention back to the two girls. "I'm sorry. Please, go on."

Megan continued with the report. "We didn't really find anything. Lots of doors are either locked or have broken locks. But, hey, at least we're the only people in here." She looked at Grace, in case she wanted to add anything.

"Maybe there's some food stashed away or something, but nothing obvious at least. On the plus side though, some of the rooms on the second floor still have beds."

"Awesome," Sophie said. "We ought to move into the rooms just so we're not in the open."

"Yeah," Megan shook her head in agreement. "Gavin, have you gone out yet?"

"I was waiting until you got back," Gavin answered. "Did you need anything before I leave?"

"Well... if you could pick up some moon pies while you're out, that'd be great. I've been craving one all day."

Gavin couldn't help but crack a small smile at the levity. "I'll see what I can do. No promises though. Shops close early around here."

Alex realized that he had been quietly eating away at the food in the can with his crackers. There hadn't been much room for him to interject anything into the conversation but he thought of something to say. "So, do any of the beds look like they are actually comfortable?"

"Not really, depends on your definition of comfortable. But we can't quite afford to be picky, right?" Grace replied.

Alex thought about that for a second, could they not afford to be picky? Probably not, but if you couldn't be picky about things in what might be the last days of your life, when was the time that you could? "Maybe you can't afford to be picky, but I'll have you know that unless my bed is up to the right specifications I will personally find the manager of this building and file a complaint about the quality of living." Alex smiled afterwards to let it be known that he was joking, if it wasn't obvious by the way he talked.

Seeing as everybody seemed to be decently settled by this point, Gavin decided to make his exit. He walked over to Xavier's pack and hoisted it on his shoulder, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. Then he began to make his way towards the main doors of the complex.

Halfway to the doors he paused, a thought striking him. He turned around in the hallway, his gaze falling on Megan again. "Hey, about those moon pies, I'm not sure I'll be able to spare the time to make a dedicated search for them, sure you don't want to come along and see to it that I don't miss them?"

"I was really just kidding with the moon pies, but sure, I can tag along," Megan shrugged. "You need a parole officer, anyway." She walked to join Gavin, only stopping to look at Grace before meeting up with him in the hallway.

Gavin smiled and laughed heartily at Megan's comment, the first completely unironic gesture of amusement he could remember making on the island. He waited in the hallway for her to join him, turning to push the main doors ajar as she drew level with him. "Ladies first, of course."

"Right." Megan moved behind Gavin and slid her hand between him and the door. "After you," Megan smirked.

"Oh, what rapier wit," Gavin groaned, rolling his eyes theatrically. Still, he couldn't suppress a slight smirk at the jab as he slid past Megan and out into the cool evening air beyond.

Megan followed behind Gavin and gave a quick "We'll be back" before shutting the door.

After Gavin and Megan left, Sophie suggested that she, Alex, and Grace try to rest in one of the apartments. They had spent a long time walking and carrying heavy bags, so they could probably use the time to try and rest and maybe clean themselves a bit. She hoped that the water still worked in the buildings (or at the very least was still clear colored), so it might be nice to bathe while she can. At the very least, putting themselves behind a locked door might be best for all of them.

Sophie walked the halls of the apartment building before stopping at one.

"Hey, how about we rest here?"

"Sounds as good as anything." Grace said, deciding to settle down on a couch for now. Let them decide who gets the nice beds while she could simply fall asleep here. She would probably regret the decision when she woke up, but she could live with that for now.

Alex nodded his head in agreement with Grace. Once inside the apartment Alex pulled his down comforter out of his duffel and wrapped it around himself. Afterwards he tossed his duffel to the side and started walking to a bed. Once there he flopped down and began rolling around and stretching to allow himself to relax. Finishing so he then rolled back up inside of his comforter and let his head back before declaring, "I am not moving from this spot and no one can make me."

Sophie walked over to the other bed and jumped on top. Once on, she pulled the slippers off and tossed them to the side. She laid on her back and looked at the ceiling.

"Well, this will do nicely," she told the others. "Who's up for a nap?"

Sophie closed her eyes and began to relax her body. In a few minutes, she was fast asleep.

Alex silently nodded his head in agreement even though no one else would see it. Afterwards, he too fell asleep.

((Alexander De Gaulle, Grace Faraday & Sophie McDowell continued in Mischief Managed.))

((Gavin Hunter & Megan Emerson continued from the above))

Once they were outside the apartment complex, Gavin wasted no time is setting a brisk pace towards the more commercial areas of the town. The group had wandered through the area in their search for the apartments, and now Gavin retraced those steps from memory. Xavier's pack felt wonderfully light on his shoulders, and his spirits were further buoyed by Megan's close proximity.

There was about a five-minute walk between the apartment complexes and the commercial side of town, and to help pass the time Gavin decided to try some light conversation. ‘Light' was a subjective term on the island, but he did his best to think of a subject that carried the least amount of negative connotations.

"So what do you think drove people away from here in such a hurry?" He eventually asked, waving a vague hand at the abandoned cars which littered the streets by way of an explanation.

"No clue," Megan said as she picked up one of the aged yellow leaflets on the ground. Most of the words fade over the years, but the phrase "EVACUATION: 10 APRIL" was still easily readable.

She continued to speak without taking her eyes off of the paper. "I hope it wasn't something with the nuclear reactors. But then that would've been all over the news a decade ago, so it'd be dumb of the terrorists to just drop us off on an island some of us would recognize. I sure as heck don't know no islands with their own nuclear plant, or at least one with an amusement park to boot."

"Yeah, I know. It just strikes me as really odd. This whole place does, as a matter of fact."

Gavin knelt down for a moment and picked up another of the flyers, but the text proved to be just as illegible as on the other. He tossed it away with an irritated expression.

"I feel like there's a mystery here that'd be worth exploring," He said, waving a hand around expansively at the crumbling buildings lining either side of the street they were walking down. "I'd love to spend some time alone here, just searching the buildings and trying to discover what drove people away. For that matter I'd like to know why this place is so damned obscure despite apparently having been tourist-dependent. There's more here than meets the eye. Of course, we'll probably never be in a position to figure it out."

He hadn't meant for the last line to be quite so morbid, but it spilled out all the same, a little bit of his frustration showing for a brief instant.

"You think something's rotten in the state of Denmark?" Megan asked as she lifted her head out of the flyer. "I dunno. As fun as solving mysteries sounds, let's worry about trying not to die first." Unlike some people...

"...Anyway, what exactly are we looking for?"

Gavin drew a deep breath before answering. His paranoia told him not to tell the whole truth, but his common sense also told him that the terrorists were going to figure it out soon enough anyway, so he might as well spill the beans.

"Oh, nothing special," He said in a non-committal tone of voice. "Just a decent supply of sulphur, potassium nitrate and gasoline. Office supplies, really."

Megan raised an eyebrow. "What office have you been to?"

Gavin grinned sheepishly. "The kind where workplace shooting rampages are considered a perfectly socially acceptable way to blow off steam, I guess?"

"Is that how it works in England?"

"Not since Thatcherism, fortunately."

Megan snickered. "Okay, that works for me. Where're we going first?"

Gavin thought for a moment before replying. "I think I spotted a gardening supply store a few minutes' walk away, that'll be the best place to look for the first two items on my list."

"Alright, that sounds good," Megan said as she crumpled the flyer and threw it away. "Lead the way."

"Sure thing," Gavin said, pausing to watch Megan toss the flyer away before resuming his brisk pace towards the commercial district.

They came across the gardening supply store a few minutes later. It wasn't hard to find, being one of the only buildings in the southern half of town to have any colour beyond the moss growing on its walls. The storefront had once been painted a cheerful green, which had faded over the years into a streaky lime. It also had intact windows and a door which still bore a trace of protective varnish coating to keep the rot at bay.

The door creaked loudly on unoiled hinges when Gavin opened it, revealing an interior space that more closely resembled a warehouse than a proper store. The floor was hard concrete, the decorations were minimal, and the furnishings were utilitarian. Apart from a thin layer of rust on the metal shelving units, there was very little evidence to suggest that the store had last been opened over a decade ago. A faint smell of compost reached Gavin's nostrils as he stepped over the threshold.

"Well," He said, peering into the gloom. "At least the inventory seems to be intact."

"That's one way of looking at it." This place was a mess, but not like any other building on the island was any different. Megan scratched the back of her hand. "Where do we even start? Think we should split up?"

"If you like. Did you happen to bring your torch?"

As he spoke, Gavin dug a hand into the side-pocket of Xavier's duffle bag and pulled out the small torch that was inside. He flicked it on and shone it over the metal shelving units. The beam wasn't particularly bright, but it served to alleviate the chronic gloom that pervaded the recesses of the store.

Megan shook her head. "No, I didn't. Guess I'll stick with you."

"You should really have gotten a trenchcoat back at the shopping centre," Gavin observed as he began to shuffle through the rows of shelves, examining their contents as he went. "It might leave you a bit hot under the collar – not that you need any help in that department – but you can't deny it lets you carry enough equipment to give Batman a run for his money."

"But Batman's, like, the worst superhero ever," Megan said as she looked through the shelves opposite of Gavin. "His 'superpowers' are being rich, having dead parents, and standing around broodingly. At least Aquaman can order dolphins to rape people. I'd personally rather get dolphins to rape people than have a glorified fanny pack."

Megan's reply was of sufficient quality to make Gavin clap a hand over his mouth and make a strangled noise somewhere along the lines of ‘NNgugrhk!', or possibly ‘HNGugrh!'. The reaction was sufficiently unexpected and involuntary that he lost his balance and had to grab desperately for a nearby shelving unit in order to steady himself, his his eyes watering and his chest visibly palpitating with suppressed laughter.

Megan spun around to see Gavin crying with laughter. "Geez, need some help finding your shit?" She returned to digging through the shelves. While he was still busy crackling like a schoolgirl, Megan found the first thing on their shopping list. Fertilizer. Potassium Nitrate.

She dragged out the bag and set it on the ground. "This what you need?"

Gavin stared at the bag through streaming eyes, still holding himself up by the shelving unit.

"N-n-no," He managed to sputter after a moment. "N-not p-pure enough. T-try s-stump remover."

With those words Gavin slumped to the floor on his backside and covered his face with both hands. It was a rare occasion when he completely lost control, but it was an equally priceless sight when it did happen. He didn't laugh so much as emit a series of strangled, high-pitched giggles that sounded rather like the noise a goose might make while simultaneously laying an egg and having its neck wrung.

Megan huffed and rolled her eyes as she put the fertilizer back and looked through the shelves again. She soon found the stump remover smack dab on the highest shelf. Of fucking course. "You done yet?" she called back. "I could really use a tall person over here."

Gavin attempted to rise, but only succeeded in getting halfway to his feet before abruptly slamming back down again. He drew a deep, shuddering breath and tried again, this time managing to remain upright with the aid of the nearby shelving unit. Then he pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and blew into it massively, clearing out his clogged air passages before finally trusting himself to look up at where Megan was pointing.

"Ye-yeah, sh-sure," He managed, an inane grin still plastered on his face as he reached up to grab the large plastic bottle marked Hi-strength Stump Remover from the top shelf and bring it down to eye level. He wordlessly broke the seal on the cap and poured out a tiny amount of the contents into his gloved hand. It was pure potassium nitrate, formed into little grains of dirty white powder about the size of pinheads. He poured them back into the bottle and resealed it.

"This'll do," He said in a slightly more level tone of voice. "Congratulations, Megan Emerson. I'll make a pyrotechnician out of you yet."

"Hmph." Megan continued on down the aisle. Was Gavin really enjoying this? "Next is sulfur, right?"

Gavin nodded an affirmative. "Yes it is. It should be labelled as such as well, so we shouldn't need to go on an epic quest for it like the potassium."

"Aight."

Megan decided to strike up the conversation this time. "Going back to what you were talking about with trench coats, don't you worry about the whole social stigma behind them, or behind wearing fedoras in general?"

Gavin shook his head emphatically. "Nope, not even slightly. I suppose I can see why people might find such attire intimidating, but I honestly kind of like that whole factor of it. I dress the way I do because I know I'm different, and I like to ensure that everybody else can tell that I'm different as well. How they choose to take it from there is entirely up to them."

"I understand wanting to stand out and all that, but aren't you worried that people will think you're either a basement dweller who watches My Little Pony all day or planning a mall shooting?"

This time Gavin made a sound along the lines of ‘Hngh!' before slamming his upper front teeth down on his bottom lip in order to prevent another outburst. Then he said nothing more for several moments, trying to adopt an expression of reasonable contemplation.

"No... no, not really," He said when he trusted himself to speak. "I just do my best to come across as a reasonable, respectful individual no matter who I encounter. I don't always succeed, mind you, but I try. It helps that I don't find the need for companionship like other people do. I'm not a recluse, as you well know, but the perceptions of society as a whole are things that affect me only when I choose to let them do so."

Damn. Megan really stepped on some toes with that last one. She decided to just shut up; there was no winning this argument with Gavin.

Then the talking stopped, leaving an awkward silence in the air besides the shuffling of feet. Shit, she better say something now. "So...uh... you see any sulfur over there?"

Gavin shone the torch along the next row of shelves. The thin beam illuminated a series of dull yellow bottles which bore labels proudly announcing their contents as Essential Gardening Supplies: Elemental Sulphur. He grinned; there was no need to even check the contents this time.

"Yes, yes I do," he said in a triumphant tone of voice. "It's just over there, on that shelf."

He pointed to where the bottles were stacked, then turned back to Megan and unslung Xavier's pack from his shoulders, holding it out to her. "Would you mind bagging these while I go get the rest of the stump remover down off that shelf you were having trouble with?"

"Yeah, sure," she said while opening the bag. "How many should I grab?"

"I'd say about five or six bottles. We only need a small amount of sulphur compared to potassium nitrate anyway," Gavin replied as he began to gingerly lift down the containers of stump remover one by one.

"All right." Megan set the duffel down and began work pulling out bottles of sulfur and shoved them in the bag. One, two, three, four, five, six. All good. She zipped it up and lifted it up from the ground. It happened to be turned around to the side with the number printed on it, "B046". Megan felt a little sick using a random person's bag, but she was honestly a little scared to ask Gavin whose it was. He found it with the gun, so it was likely she'd figure it out come tomorrow's announcement anyway. And besides, he would've told her if it was really something serious, right?

Sharing troubles was what friends did; it was what she did when she told him about Francis and Bella. Gavin surely would've done the same.

After throwing in the last bottle, Megan joined Gavin who was still gathering up the stump remover. "Okay, what's left? Gas?"

"Yup, gas is the last thing on our list. I think the best way to find some is to check some of the cars around here and see if any of them have an emergency supply in the trunk."

Gavin gathered up the bottles of stump remover in his arms and carried them over to where Megan was standing. He dumped them into Xavier's bag, filling it to the point that the zipper was difficult to pull up. The bag wasn't particularly heavy, but it felt lumpen and misshapen as Gavin hoisted it back onto his shoulders and turned back towards the entrance of the store.

Megan followed Gavin out to the streets where the sun already hid behind the buildings. They were going to have to work fast if they wanted to get back before nightfall. But, damn, there were cars everywhere. This was gonna take all night unless they got lucky. "So... uh... how should we do this? Pick a random car and go for it?"

"Pretty-much, yeah."

Taking out the wrench that Sophie had given him back in the apartments, Gavin began to stride purposefully towards one of the many cars that littered the streets. He hefted the wrench, and then smashed it through the driver's side window in one sharp blow.

"You've no idea how long I've wanted to try that," He commented mildly as he reached inside to undo the lock and swing the door open.

Megan winced and jumped out of her skin when Gavin smashed the window apart. Shit, dude; he could've at least warned her first. "Okay, great. Don't do that again. We might not be alone." Then again, they could never be alone with these collars and cameras. She walked over to the trunk and waited for Gavin to pop it open.

"Sorry, I got carried away."

Gavin leaned inside the car and peered at the dashboard. Fortunately this was a model that included a way to open the trunk from the driver's seat, in the form of a large button by the gearstick. He tapped it firmly and listening to the creaking noise of ancient, rusty hinges springing upwards.

"Anything there?" He asked.

Megan pulled the trunk open all the way and looked inside. There was nothing really out of the ordinary in there; just a spare tire and a toolbox, but no gas. Drat.

"It's just a tire and a toolkit," she said before checking the contents of the toolbox. The clashing of metal echoed as Megan dug her fingers carelessly around the toolkit and took the box apart. However, when she got to the lower compartment, something stopped her. It was a magazine... that kind of magazine. Curiosity got the better of her, and she pulled it out and scanned through it. Hell, if this was going to be her only chance to see this, she might as well take it.

"Miss March '96 is here, too."

"Playboy magazines, seriously?"

Gavin quickly drew himself back out of the car and moved round to peer over Megan's shoulder, making the odd ‘hmm' and ‘huh' noise in the manner of an esteemed professor subconsciously critiquing a body of work submitted by a student as she flipped through the pages.

"You know, we might want to keep those," He said in a mildly contemplative tone. "They might be worth quite a lot of money back on the mainland..."

"Eh, I doubt it. Unless it was one of the first ones with Marilyn Monroe or something, it probably wouldn't go for much. The internet tapped into the market, ya know?" Megan was a bit disappointed that there were a lot less nude girls and a lot more "articles" and advertisements than she expected. She always figured it was one of those closely guarded treasures horny teenage boys and men in movies hid under their mattresses, but it was a lot more subdued than what she expected. Well... maybe "subdued" wasn't exactly the right word. But if that was all it took for men...

Gavin adopted a distinctly injured expression as Megan tossed the magazine back into the trunk of the car and closed the lid with a resounding thump.

Megan turned back to see Gavin staring at her like a kid who got a toy taken away or something. "Oh, come on, don't give me that look."

"Damn it girl," he said in his best impression of a curmudgeonly old British man. "I could have used some quality por-I mean reading material to help me wile away the hours of the evening. I swear, sometimes you never consider my needs."

"You can worry about getting a hard-on later when you have time," Megan said as she wiped her hands on Gavin's coat and pulled on his arm to lead him away. "Right now, let's worry about finding gas."

"Humph," was all Gavin could think to say as he was dragged bodily away from the car and its contents. He let Megan steer him towards another car, pulling away from her when they got within a few feet of it and grumbling up to the driver's side window.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and find an old copy of Nuts or something in the back of this one," he said as he drew back his right arm to deliver the blow that would shatter the window panel.

"Yeah, yeah, I doubt lightning can strike twice. Oh, and be-" Gavin smashed the window again. "-careful." Megan sighed and walked around to the trunk, waiting for the plop! sound before pulling it up. Yeah! Now we're talking.

"There's two cans back here," Megan said as she struggled to reach for them. No can do; they were buried almost all the way to the back end. Gavin'd have to pull them out. "They're deep in the trunk where I can't really get to, so I don't know if they're full or not."

"Uh, is there another toolkit as well?" Gavin asked from his position halfway in and halfway out of the driver's side window.

"You know, I don't think I can tell when you're serious anymore."

"Nah I'm serious, I just realised that we could probably do with one somewhere further down the line. Call it my innate Always A Bigger Fish syndrome kicking in."

"...Yeah, there's a toolkit here. No surprises this time."

Gavin grunted as he pulled his head out from the interior of the car, allowing himself a moment to stretch before he joined Megan by the trunk. Carefully moving in front of her, he leant inwards to peer at the objects contained within the deep interior space. He was greeted by the sight of a pair of large, hefty-looking gasoline cans, both tucked away at the very back of the trunk.

"Jackpot," he muttered, and then reached in to grasp the two cans by their handles. They were both full, their contents sloshing gently about as he pulled them forwards until they perched on the lip of the trunk.

"Looks like we can finally cross off the last items on our shopping list," he said quietly to Megan.

"Yeah," said Megan as she grabbed the toolkit and set it down with the gas cans. "Think we should start heading back now? It's going to be night soon."

Gavin nodded his agreement with Megan's suggestion. "I'll carry the cans then, you can bring the toolbox. Sound fair?"

"You sure you can handle all of that weight?"

"I'm not looking forward to it," Gavin admitted. "But I have a masculine image to maintain. Whatever would people say about me if I started delegating the hauling duties to the lovely young ladies?"

He grinned playfully at Megan as he spoke, grasping the handles of both gasoline tanks together and then hauling them out of the trunk. They were heavy, but not quite so heavy as to make the task of getting them back to the apartments impossible. It would be an uncomfortable trip to be certain, but definitely not beyond the bounds of possibility.

"Okay, fine," Megan said as she picked up the toolset and closed the trunk. "Hope you know the way back, because I wasn't paying attention."

"Don't worry, my sense of direction is as accurate as my shooting."

With those words, Gavin set off back towards the apartment complex. In truth he needed to do little more than head in a vaguely westerly direction, as the town simply wasn't big enough to get lost in for very long. The grid-like layout of the streets also meant that it was virtually impossible to get lost so long as you had a good idea of which compass point you ought to be facing.

By the time they reached the main doors of the apartment complex, Gavin's arms were ready to declare their independence from the rest of his body. He didn't even bother to try and heft the gas cans inside, just dropped them by the doors and then slumped against them with a loud groan.

"You know what," he said to Megan after a long pause to catch his breath. "Next time, I'm delegating all the hauling duties to you."

"Pssh, you're the one who wanted to be all manly and carry everything," Megan shrugged. "I was even gonna carry that bag for you, but you seemed like you got everything under control. Wouldn't want to hurt your ‘masculine image'."

Gavin laughed mildly at Megan's tone of voice and made a small clucking noise at the back of his throat. Then he suddenly adopted a more serious expression.

"Thank you for coming with me," he said quietly. "I really do appreciate your company. It helps remind me that there's something worth fighting for on this island. I'm not sure how I'd ever cope if I thought something happened to you."

"Yeah, it's not trouble," replied Megan with a smile. "Actually, I should be the one appreciating you for showing up when you did. You've always had incredible timing; maybe it's a British thing." She laughed and paused for a second to gather her thoughts, but she couldn't think of anything else to add. "So, yeah, thanks."

"Well the British did basically invent the whole ‘damsel in distress' formula, so you've got to give us some credit."

Gavin looked down at Megan for a moment. He couldn't help but envy her, and not solely because she didn't have to worry about an annoying excess of facial hair while on the island.

"You know," He began quite slowly, as if he wasn't entirely sure what to say even as words passed his lips. "I happened to bring some rather expensive liquor with me from the shopping centre. I was planning on pouring a lot of it away, but that seems like a pretty big waste. Would you like to join me in a little indulgence, while there's still some to be had?"

Megan's face turned serious on a dime. "I don't drink," was her only response as her body turned completely away from him.

Gavin nodded slightly in response to her words. He dropped his gaze to the floor, looking somewhat uncomfortable for a moment.

"I understand," He said at length. "Well, I won't try and force you, it just seemed a shame to waste perfectly good alcohol."

He lifted his head again; his smile returning as he bent down to grasp the handles of the gas cans and hoist them back off the ground with a small grunt of effort.

"Let's head inside, we don't want to keep everybody waiting."

Megan said nothing and held the front door open for High Highness.

Gavin gently pushed past Megan and into the now-empty reception area. He frowned, then realised that with the lengthening shadows outside it was likely everybody else had simply chosen to go to bed.

"Looks as if we're the last ones still up," He said quietly. "Guess there's nothing left to do but grab a room and wait till morning."

Megan slammed the door after Gavin and walked on by. The day at Centennial Park... the sly devil never planned to back off, did he? "Comforting" her at the mall, telling her how "she felt good too", getting her to go with him on some bullshit fetch quest, laughing at her jokes, getting her drunk; was that all just a game to him? A damsel in distress and her white knight, was that how he saw them? She wasn't a princess, and he certainly wasn't her hero; not back in Seattle or today.

Shame on him for playing these games, and shame on her for not seeing through his trap. However, she would be damned before this got more out of hand.

With the toolkit in hand, Megan made a beeline for the stairs. "Yeah, whatever; see ya later," she scoffed before disappearing from the reception area.

God, she was such a fool.

Gavin waved Megan goodbye as she ascended the stairs, oblivious to her internal diatribe. The stairs were quite beyond him at the moment, so instead he decided to rest in the reception area for a few minutes. His old chair was still there, and he sank into it gratefully. He ached everywhere, but it was the strangely satisfying ache that resulted from a day's work having been well done, rather than simply a litany of bodily agonies. Outside, the shadows began to give way to full night, but Gavin didn't particularly care. He was just glad that another day had passed without the loss of anybody close to him.

He dragged himself up to bed about half an hour later, using a torch to find an unlocked apartment that had an intact bed. Once inside, Gavin stripped down in darkness and tossed his clothes into a haphazard pile on the floor. The bed smelled musty, but it was dry and relatively clean. Laying his head on the pillow, Gavin surrendered his consciousness to the dreamscape he knew awaited him.

Tomorrow, the real work began.

((Gavin Hunter & Megan Emerson continued in Mischief Managed.))