Survival Of The Fittest

((Continued from: In Sight of a Sanctuary))

He'd most definitely never had to run this far this fast in his life, but then again, he'd never ran from a psychopathic man toting a nice, big M16 rifle. So, it was quite understandable that, when he finally reached the dead end of the cliff edge, he fell promptly to his knees. The student began to cough, long and hard coughs, as his body shuddered. His legs were particularly weak, he found, and his arms just as pained.

He collapsed onto his stomach, his breaths coming fast and shallow. He did his best to control it, but as he was in lackluster shape, one could bet he'd be out for a while.

And now, there was only one thing to do. See if his 'friend,' Drew, had followed him indeed.

As a note, the drill was safely and securely tucked in a pants pocket, away from his hands. Like he could do anything with it at the moment anyway.

((Continued from: In Sight of a Sanctuary))

Drew, little boy Drew ran onto the hillside cliff where Tobs collapsed on the floor. He raised his gun a little ready for anything to happen, I mean Tobs could attack him, this could very well be a trap! The boy looked at him in disbelief and if he didn't know what he was doing or where he was.

"W-What do you want....?" he asked the gun grasped in his head. He griped the gun hard and as he started to sweat. Here he was, on a seaside cliff, with a gun, standing in front of Tobs. "A-Are you still my friend?" he asked. He must be his friend, he has no one else in the world, he must be his friend.

T-Tobs......You're my friend....You have to be my friend......If you aren't......I have to kill you...Cassie wasn't a friend....She was not a friend.....But you- you're not like her...You have to be my friend. You have to be!

His thoughts flew all over the place as he tried to get a grasp on reality. All he had were friends, friends are what mattered now. Without any friends he would surely whither away into nothing, he had to salvage what he had. If that can't happen then.......what is he going to do?

Toby rolled onto his back, staring up at the cloudy sky as if he were back in Arizona. Wait, no cloudy sky; like he was back in Michigan. With his old, good friends. With Drew, with everyone else. But alas; Michigan was, for all he knew, half a world away. He didn't know, but he was finally beginning to come to terms with one thing. Takara's shooting had slammed some sense into his teenage brain.

Not everyone was going to go home. In fact, the chance of him going home was absolutely miniscule. He should just walk off the cliff and get it over with. Chances are, it'd be a lot less painful than whatever death would be given to him by the psychos on this godforsaken island.

At Drew's question, one might expect some supremely wise response to leave Toby's mouth. Something right out of the movies. 'I might be your friend...I know I was, I probably still am. But are you? Are you still my friend, and can I even still call you a friend? So long apart, who knows what has changed about each of us? You shot someone, and who knows, maybe I became a Priest. Maybe we're totally different, and that leaves us with one thing. With our knowledge of each other, can we trust each other enough to be 'friends?'

But, of course, nothing so long-winded and dramatic came from his mind. Instead, it was quite simple. "...yes...," he managed, between gasps for air. You wouldn't believe how hard it was for him to breath right now. If he didn't know better, he'd think he had asthma or something.

"What're...what're you doing he---" He coughed once, loudly. "...here?" His mind was still trying to figure out whether or not the subject of Takara was one to mention. Drew was his friend, Drew'd never shoot him---right?

Drew looked at him weirdly. Suspicion number one! What kind of question is that? Thats not a question? How can Tobs ask him that? What kind of question is that anyway? The boy over scanned the question not sure how to interpret it. "W-What are you talking about? What kind of question is that? You know exactly why I'm here!" he said to him. Drew started to gain confidence as he spoke, he needed it if he was to take on this imposter of Tobs.

Drew knew he couldn't jump to conclusions yet, he wants to find out some more before he shoots or before he allies.

Trap? Friend? Trap Friend? No...Its a trick......No, hes for real! Its tobs!

The boy couldn't quite decide with himself. His mind was shot with riddles, questions, accusations, and assumptions. He didn't know for sure, he has dealt with all kinds of tricks. Cassie, was just a trap. She tried to kill him, he knows that she would have killed him when she got too close. But he put a stop to that trap and now to decide weather Tobs is the same case.

And Toby, as if he had saved up all his breath for one burst, responded almost without hesitation. "I mean here, I mean on this fucking island!" The explosion, for that's what it was, seemed to physically and mentally drain him, for he immediately went back to breathing heavily and not so much as squeeking.

"I don't know!" Drew screamed back at Tobs starting to be convinced he's a fake. The boy didn't understand what in hell's name was going on. Would Tobs break down like that? Would he yell at his friend? "Why are you on this island huh?" he asked raising his gun. "Explain yourself. NOW!" he yelled.

Everythings alright, I got it all under control.......

Drew looked at Tobs sternly wanting to know the truth. Wanting to know why the hell this is happening. Drew decided in his mind that if his answer met his expectations he'd trust him and he'd beleive he's for real. if not, then he will have no choice put to pull trigger.

"I got hit on the back of the neck walking in downtown Tucson, that's goddamn how!" he exploded again, once more draining himself physically. Toby's chest heaved as he tried to gather the breath necessary to speak. The grass on his back felt as if each individual blade was just that; a literal, sharpened blade, piercing his back. It was an odd feeling, but so was everything he was experiencing right now.

God, it's like someone spiked my sweat with LSD, PCP, and cocaine all at once. Yes, he had swallowed a lot of sweat by now, thanks to it running down into his mouth.

His eyes squeeked open, his head turning to the side. Both eyes trained themselves right on the muzzle of the pistol. ...great. I'm going to be shot, by Drew, while lying down. Fun shit. Note to self: In afterlife, keep gun with self and be careful of friends.

"I said calm down!" Drew pulled the trigger of the gun making another deadly bullet speed its way toward Tobs. Of course Drew's paranoia lead the bullet to his shoulder. "Calm down!" he said; it was ironic advice because he wasn't even calm. He started shaking after the shoot....

He's not Tobs! Just an imposter! I knew it all along....

Drew aimed once more asking him another question to see if it was the real Tobs. "Now tell me.......Did you kill someone while you were here..." Tobs would never kill anyone, he knew better than that. AT least thats what Drew thought.

I shall not put Toby's thoughts to text, as they are quite obvious as it is. I'll give one hint though. The word starts with F, ends in K, and lasted for a good ten seconds in his mind. That is one drawn-out word.

The bullet went straight into his shoulder blade, embedding itself in said bone. The entry wound was small, thanks to the size of the bullet, but already bleeding. Chances were good that there was more internal damage too, maybe even a cut artery. Which would, frankly, completely screw over Toby. Shortly following the entry of the bullet and the start of the mental scream of anguish, he expelled his entire lung capacity in the end of the scream.

"---UUCKING HELL!!!" Keep in mind, the scream was far longer than that, lasting at least five or six full seconds of pain. It's just, I hate repeating letters to make something seem longer, and using a ~ to show length just seems wrong at the moment. *koff*

Shortly thereafter, in a quieter voice (though still above a speaking voice), he uttered damn near every word that is never to be used on cable TV. And then some. He'd never experienced pain like this, pain like having a bullet tear through his flesh, muscle and bone, nothing---nothing like this.

"No! NO! I have a motherfucking DRILL, I can't kill a RABBIT with this fucking thing!" Who knew he had this much air in his body. I sure as hell didn't. "Never fucking touched a soul! AH! FUCK!" His body heaved in a pained sob, born purely of the anguish and torturous pain he was enduring. No normal person could take a gunshot wound silently, or even quietly, and Toby was no exception.

Like hell he's calming down.

Drew quickly raised the gun as Tobs completley went beserk. "I'm warning you, if you don't calm the hell down then I'm going to shot again..." he said putting his finger on the trigger. The more Tobs screamed the more it convinced Drew that this person is an imposter, a terrorist, someone messing with his head.

"You think I'm stupid? I know whats going on here....Think they can pull a fast one on me? I don't think so!" Drew looked at him with eyes of a mad man, Drew had long since jumped into the deep end. He is continuing to plummet into the depths of insanity. Something this island had done to him.

"Shut the fuck up....SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!" screamed Drew as he continued to scream. "Shut the fuck up..." he said a little more quietly but tense. He pointed the gun at Tobs again about to pull the trigger and lodge a bullet right into his chest cavity.

His teeth clenched, as if trying to grind them to the gums. The yelling was cut short, his right hand swinging over and clamping tight over his mouth. His left shoulder continued to bleed on to his short, bleed down his arm, and all that good stuff. It fucking hurt. It hurt like a one-of-a-kind bitch, like there was no other.

The hand then went to his shoulder. Just a tap, and he hissed in pain. Toby rolled onto his side, supporting himself on his good shoulder, back to Drew.

...he's going to kill me.

"Drew..."

He's going to shoot again.

"Could you help me...up?"

He'll stand you up and shoot you.

"...please?"

Drew looked at him in puzzlement. Was he pulling out the nice act now that the crazy one didn't work? Well Drew wasn't going to fall for it. He wasn't going to fall for anything; not this time. Cassie tricked him and now Tobs.....

Its nothing but a trap.......A trap! A trap!

'Its a trap!' repeated in Drew's mind over and over as he started at Drew. "I'm not falling for any of your bullshit! I'll kill you just like I did Cassie. She was tried to kill me. She tried tricking me with this acts your using now." he said as he started to breathe heavily.

"Now get up! Your going to pay for getting me on this island!" he yelled as he waved the gun at him his finger on the trigger, ready to fire at any given moment.

He's done it before, he'll do it now. He'll shoot you dead, shoot you where you stand.

"Fuck it! Drew, you know me! Why would I kill you?! I just want a fucking hand in standing up!" Spit fell to the grass as he yelled, his back still to Drew. He just wanted to stand...just...stand. Up. But he couldn't do it, not now. It was all he could do to balance on his good shoulder; without the other, moving was rather difficult.

"...please...just help me stand..."

Drew hesitated a bit but as he talked he reminded him how Tobs owuld act. Maybe this is the real Tobs....Maybe, maybe its him.. The boy slowly moved toward Tobs, the gun still aimed, this time near his face. He slowly grabbed under his arm on the side that wasn't shot. He slowly helped him stand.

Its him! Its him! Its him!

His mentality changed, it wasn't a trick after all. Drew assumed paranoia was knocking at his door thats all. He's not like Cassie, he's his friend. His true friend. For some reason the gun was still pointed at him, as if a part of his mind forced his nerves to defend himself just incase he tried to pull anything. "Oh Tobs..." he said, his voice al ittle more relieved.

Toby felt himself lifted to his feet by his good arm, wincing lightly in pain as his left came off the ground. It was still bleeding rather quickly, so Toby assumed now that he had gotten something important nicked by the bullet. His mind was wholly intact, allowing him to make such an assumption, but his body was not.

Still unsure of himself physically, he was gasping for air. His legs shook, but he couldn't tell if it was fear, pain, or fatigue. He was coming apart at the seams, another rivet popping out of the reactor shield that was his brain, until you just got to the melt-down phase. And at that point, you either did just that ---melted down, that is--- or shut off entirely.

I somehow doubt Toby will 'shut off.'

He shook Drew's hand off his good arm, turning to face the boy. A hand went to his right temple, rubbing it harshly. Of course, in the spirit of drama, his mind had decided to, just then, review the events of the Hospital frame-by-fucked-up-frame. It was probably seeing a gun pointed at him that did it.

Toby was in shock, still on all fours. The boy had died pretty much right in front of him, leaving him with an image burned into his mind. That of the boy's final look before death took him. But that wasn't it, no, not at all. The crack of the gunshot rang out, he heard a girl's yelp, and down went Takara. The gunshot had come from the treeline, and he'd seen a flash of skin. A flash of face.

He couldn't quite grasp the image that had been placed in his head now. That of a boy, holding a gun, flame erupting from the muzzle, and what looked like a grin on his face. A grin! But the most troubling part of it had been that it was a face he knew. A face he had trusted, had as a friend, but had not seen in ages. Drew's face.

He'd jumped up, he'd left Takara for as good as dead, and he'd yelled for Drew to follow him. And without missing a beat, he'd bolted out of that godforsaken bloodbath.

The bushes had stung him, the thorns had cut him. Every footstep jarred his entire leg, each time praying and hoping that his foot missed the root he'd thought he'd seen. Pushing away the leaves and branches and everything else that decided to grow in his way, he sprinted to the cliff. Every step ached, his legs slowly giving out.

When he finally arrived, he simply collapsed. Nothing dramatic, nothing special. Just a thunk as he hit the ground and did nothing more than wait for Drew, most likely wait for his death. What if someone else had decided to come to the cliff just then? What if any number of things had happened? As it had turned out, it seemed that one of those things had ocurred. Toby had been shot in the shoulder, and now was being stood up.

Stood up to be executed.

His vision vanished with that final thought reverberating through his skull, much like screaming at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. It just bounced around, growing weaker but never leaving. And as he saw the gun now, after the flashback, he saw the image of Drew standing there with a smoking gun once more.

Without knowing it, without thinking, a fist lashed out to connect with Drew's face. Defensive, for sure, but it sure as hell wouldn't work out well for him.