Survival Of The Fittest

((Janie Sinneave continues from Fumble))

Janie was lost.

It wasn't an out of the ordinary experience to be honest. When she left the mall she'd also left behind Ben's map. And Oscar's map. And those were the only maps she'd been in contact with for days on end. She'd been relying on them. But without them, she'd become lost.

The past tense being here because she was once lost. She vaguely knew where she was now. Huddled up inside a shipping container. The rain had long since passed and she was stuck in silence. If she listened really hard maybe she could hear voices. Maybe even a gunshot. Of course she had no idea whether they were real or not. It was hard to tell what was her mind playing tricks on her and what was reality. Either way, she had one of the doors open so she didn't suffocate.

Of course, Janie was still lost in a sense of the word. It was her promise to herself all those days ago that she would never be alone again, but when she saw Benjamin standing over Oscar's body all she could do was turn tail and run. One of the people she'd trusted her life to had just murdered the other. She didn't see any other option.

Of course there was another option. You could have stayed there. You don't even know what happened.

And those thoughts could have just been her sleeplessness speaking mind games to her. She'd been stuck to sleeping on a sheet she'd packed away inside a metal shipping container, with death possibly around every corner she could land her eyes on. Janie might not have gotten any sleep, rather being stuck with the delusions of sleep. It was all making her head spin. That, and the sleeplessness.

But nothing could have spoken clearer to her than the announcements screeching to life through the ajar metal door.

A few minutes later, a few names later and Janie was still alone.

She wanted some sense to be made of it all, even this far in. She wanted to know what to do. What she was supposed to do. And part of her expected an answer somehow from that. All it told her was that Oscar was dead, Ben was the killer, and she was fine to stay here. All of which she already knew.

But she had nothing else. Nothing else except the silence surrounding her and the distant tread of footsteps, becoming less distant every minute she sat in that container.

If Ben closed his eyes tight enough, it'd almost be like home. The shitty, windy weather here cut through even the thickest bathrobe that Ben could find. Ben's jaw tried to resist chattering. It was an effort to keep his teeth locked. Ben could focus on the obvious reason why this trip fucking sucked, but right now he was starting small; the weather. Wherever they were, it wasn't sunny, jolly Disneyland. Ben was hoping that he'd see half-naked college co-eds, looking for a quick hook-up with some Seattle strangers. The guys had all be casually joking about it on the plane.

No one was going to stand half-naked and horned up in this weather.

Ben swaddled himself as he walked against the wind. His legs crossed together, holding the scythe between his legs like a wooden pony. His hands were busied with a map and an artist's pencil. Oscar probably would have used the pencil more efficiently, but Ben casually eroded it's fancy edge by crossing off locations on the map. Janie was not in the hotel. She was not in the hospital. And it didn't look like she was in the office of the shipping yard, either. Someone'd gone ham and fucked up the entire room. Shit was tossed left and right in the office. Someone'd broken the window, split a desk, broke the chair. Janie wasn't the type that seemed capable of this destruction, though if she was, Ben would have felt bad that she'd never been recruited for the football team.

With an 'x' crossed over the shipping yard, Ben began to leave. It was still before the announcements. He'd travelled lightly. Light enough to hoof it if the danger zone dropped right out on top of him. He was cutting it close though. The sun was really high up in the sky. Ben's brief stint as a boy scout warned him that he was running out of time before the whole world knew everything.

Ben had to take a leak. To actually have enough hydration to piss meant that Ben had done well enough in finding supplies. Those few water bottles at the beginning were total jokes. Ben pounded most of those back after the first two days.

A quick scan of the storage yard revealed nobody. Well, except the headless girl. Ben remembered hearing about a girl stuck in a danger zone. It looks like she tried to run out of here. It made Ben nervous. If this area became a danger zone, he could end up like her, trying to run out. Only it'd be way worse if Ben's head came off while his dick was out. For the next few moments, thankfully the only sounds Ben heard were the wind rattling the steel storage containers, and the echoing sound his stream made as it hit the side.

With a sigh of relief, Ben began to move out, when a familiar voice came in. Fuck. Fuck. Ben hastily pushed his dick back into his pajama pants. Splatters of urine freckled the cotton white crotch. Ben jammed his map back into his pocket, nearly dropping the pencil in the process. He was ready to tear rubber out of here.

Good news; Ben wasn't in a danger zone. Better news; his base, currently staffed by beanpole and the weird chick, wasn't a danger zone either. Bad news; half the island had been made a danger zone. It seemed that more people were going to try and give Ben a headache. Ben just wanted one person to help him wait out everything.

A sigh, very weak, came from one of the containers. Could that be. . . his thought, interrupted by his fast-moving mouth.

"Come on out wherever you are, and slowly." This all sounded so familiar.

And all too familiar it was, because Janie once again did exactly what she was told.

As she'd heard the footsteps she knew she couldn't run. Any movement she made, anything she said would be magnified by her boxed surroundings. She was trapped. There were the parts of her that knew this was it. She was going to end up just like Oscar. And the fact she'd just heard his killer's voice did nothing to alleviate that.

But still, she pulled herself out of the container, clumping heavily across her metal floor. She opened the door. She stood by the entrance of the door, not saying anything.

It was eerily accurate to a few days ago. He was controlling her. But unlike then, she didn't have anything to say. A silence hung in the air for the longest time while Janie was once again with Benjamin, but still alone with her thoughts.

It could have been anyone. Ben tried to think of the sheer number of people that could be hiding out in this crate. Instead of the door opening, Ben could have been met by Hansel Williams's machine gun. Or maybe it wouldn't be a person. Without the people to watch over, Ben had seen a lot of animals come in to reclaim some of the manmade buildings. Literally, the noise could have been anyone, and anything. But it was her.

"Janie." Ben was supposed to have a game plan for this. Christ, he'd been rehearsing to himself the entire walk. In this theoretical play, he said sorry. He meant it too. He'd say everything that she needed to hear. But he was choking.

"I. Um." C'mon Ben.  Say something.

Ben dug into his bag, momentarily breaking eye contact with Janie while he shuffled around the contents. With a slow, careful movement, he pulled out a can. The label had faded a while ago, but Ben could make out the chalky, round shapes. Chickpeas.

"You alone this whole time?" Ben brought his hand forward, simultaneously drawing the scythe backward in his other. He clumsily tried to hand the can over to Janie. Ben was prepared to deal with a debate. If she started crying, or yelling, it'd be easy. Ben could understand that. It was silence that was the real fucking blow. No guy ever liked to admit it, but the silence treatment from girls actually did work. Ben nervously studied her face, hoping that there was something.

Ben wasn't waiting.

"I made the Shopping Center a base. The entrances are all blocked in, except for one small side door. Once we're inside, we'll lock that door and wait it out until rescue comes. We've got food, shelter, water; we're gold."

Janie's face was cold. Colder than Ben had remembered ever seeing it. Ben felt the chill scale up his back. For once in his life, he was cared about what someone else was thinking about him. Janie could have been anyone that day. She could have been someone who'd hated Ben's guts. The majority of the school did, it was surprising that he hadn't been sought out by those nerds with a vengeance. No one else would have trusted Ben. He wasn't king here. He was a pariah. Everyone hated him here. Karma was finally paying Ben off for his past asshole behavior.

But Janie didn't care about that. She needed someone to keep her alive. She didn't care that Ben was an asshole. He kept them alive, and he kept them relatively comfortable. He'd fucked up with Oscar, but she could see past that, right? Janie needed him. Ben had to keep telling himself that. Someone needed to want him alive. Ben couldn't fill that position on his own.

If he knew what to say, he'd say it. He wanted Janie to like him.

"I'm sorry."

There was part of Janie that was still wandering around on the island. She wanted to be free, she just wanted to run, she wanted to be anywhere but here. She didn't want to be in the same room as Ben.

What she really wanted was to get off this goddamn island. She wanted to go home, back to Seattle, back with her family where she could worry about the things she should be worrying about, not whether or not she was going to die. This wasn't fair. None of this was fair. She shouldn't have to stand here and listen to a bully from school talk about boarding up a shopping centre for safety when he'd just murdered a chain-smoking art kid. She shouldn't have to think about whether or not taking off her fucking clothes was going to be caught on camera and she'd have parts she'd never shared with anyone before broadcast all over the world.

This wasn't fucking fair.

But with every passing second she knew that fair was no longer in anyone's vocabulary. This was just it. She was here, listening to him explain himself and his situation. About how planned out he was, and whoever else was there was as well. And that had to be it. She couldn't whine about it. She couldn't cry about it. There was no sympathy to be gained here from anyone, the least of all from Ben. If she wanted to see her brother and her sister and her mother and her father and all of her family she'd never even seen in years again, if she wanted to listen to music with them or have a family meal again she was going to have to earn it, and by earn it she knew she'd have to get off this goddamn island.

And Ben was the ticket. He'd survived. He hadn't devolved into murdering anyone, at least on purpose, he hadn't made stupid mistakes like she had. God, so many stupid fucking decisions, it was a wonder she wasn't dead already. Yaz could be here in her place just as easily if she hadn't given up. Rebecca was still out there, surviving, and she wondered if that was the difference between them. She'd been the smart one. Janie was the one sitting in a classroom playing Hungry Hungry Hippos as the inevitability of death creeped slowly up on her.

So she needed people. She needed people to survive, she needed people if she was ever going to get off of this island. So she needed Ben. She needed to put everything she felt towards Ben over the past day, ever since he killed Oscar, and she needed to work with him to get off of this island.

Janie looked up to Ben. She'd found her resolve. She'd found her will to fight. Her will to live. She walked to him.

Of course, her choice of words could have been better.

"I just want this to be over with."

((GMing approved by Inky))

Janie looked so frail, so damaged. Her crossed arms were shaking, trying in vain to steady themselves on her shoulders. Her knees buckled inwards, trying to defy every urge to collapse. Ben wanted to reach out, touch her, steady her. But he knew that he never had that right.

Logically and strategically speaking, she was a poor idea for a teammate. She needed so much attention, so much compassion. Those were things literally anybody else was more suited for. Ben could admit that he didn't have a damn clue how to help someone so damaged. She should have found her friends. People who could support her, people who could care. Ben did care, somewhere deep down; why else would he leave his security to go find her? But he wasn't able to tell her all of that. He didn't know how. It was a shame, because it seemed like that's all she needed.

"You ever wonder why I chose to protect you?" Ben interjected bluntly. To be honest, Ben didn't even known why. She'd always been a tool, someone to keep watch while Ben struggled to get a few hours of sleep, or maybe she was there to gather supplies.

"My sister Elaine is so much like you." Ben sighed.

"Like me? Why? Does she have green hair, too?" Janie tried to make a joke, something light-hearted. This conversation had a drastically serious tone. It made Ben antsy. He began to walk aimlessly in patternistic spirals.

"No, but she liked horses too." Janie's eyes widened. Of course Ben had been listening the entire time. He wasn't Oscar, but that didn't mean he wasn't conscious of what Janie and Oscar had said to each other. "She's been riding since she was like, seven. Those fucking horses hated me. Always bucked and kicked whenever I came close. Probably knew I'd do the same to them."

Janie hadn't responded, just staring blankly at the ground. Ben found it hard to keep eye contact with her. She looked so defeated. Even talking about horses, something she'd been excited to talk about with Oscar, seemed to have no effect with Ben.  

"What is it like? Riding horses, I mean. I never actually got on one for very long." Ben toyed with the box cutter in his hand. Ben hardly got nervous or at a loss for words. They said that's why his mouth was so wide; so he could talk on and on. Finding himself quiet was strange. While he waited for a response, Ben flicked the blade inwards and outwards.

Janie didn't even attempt to meet Ben's eyes. "Like I was free. We'd only go around the track in a circle, but it never felt like I was confined. I felt so free." Tears fled down her face. "I miss it."

The memories of life before this were scarring. Talking about Elaine drew a matching tear down Ben's cheek. Ben scrubbed it viciously with the back of his hand. Did it even really matter if Janie saw? He'd been so tough and intimidating all this time. It was about time that he grew a heart.

"Janie..." Ben still didn't know what to say. He was supposed to find her and come up with the right thing to say. He'd always been so convincing back home.

The silences in between, the tone of her voice when that silence was broken, it all spoke more that either of them could. There was nothing to look forward to. Even if rescue came, what did Janie have? Ben could survive all of this. Sure he'd probably go to jail for killing Oscar, but Ben was tough. Just like Aurora, he'd make prison his bitch. He'd survive all of this, he was certain. But Janie? She wasn't Ben.

Janie was ruined. Her voice, once full of passion and excitement, just seemed so hollow, so empty. Silence was what killed Ben. He wanted to hear her mad. He wanted to hear her sad. He wanted there to be something that Ben could see as human and alive in her. Right now, she sounded empty. Janie Sinneave died on this island. What was left wasn't her.

"I'm so sorry." Ben came up behind her and did something uncharacteristic; he hugged her. His forearm crossed over her breasts, grabbling her tightly. His chin rested on the top of her head. For this moment, he was embracing her. Her arms were pinned to her sides, only allowing enough movement for Janie to place her hands on his forearms. "You don't deserve to be here. None of us did, but especially not you."

Ben needed Janie to be alright. He didn't need an alarm clock. He didn't need a pack mule. He didn't even need someone to protect him. What he needed was someone who could keep him going. Janie couldn't be that person. What he wanted from her wasn't there anymore.

"I'm sorry." Ben's forearm glided across the length of Janie's neck. Very delicately and very softly. Janie was offering no resistance until the box cutter rapidly cut across her throat. Janie swiveled in Ben's grasp. A look of betrayal and fear flickered briefly across her face. Ben wanted to turn away then and there, run away and not have to see her die in his arms, but he couldn't. He needed to see her.

Tears mirrored each other on both their faces. Ben hadn't cried in years. Not even when he first woke up on this island. Not even when Oscar had died. But Janie was different. Ben wanted to hope that in her dying moments, she'd see the regret and remorse in his eyes. Somehow, Ben thought she did. She didn't fight him off. She didn't cry. She just looked directly into his teary eyes. Her head slumped into his chest. For a moment, Ben just held her.

G015- Janie Sinneave - Deceased

"Janie?" Ben lightly jostled her. Selfishly, he wanted her to still be alive. He didn't want to be alone. Janie Sinneave could have been anybody that day they met. At the same time, she was unique. Ben couldn't describe it. Maybe he'd never be able to tell what drew him to her. Yeah, she was so similar to Elaine, but there was something more. Something that made Ben care.

Ben unwrapped his arms from Janie's body, allowing it to freely fall onto his kneeling lap.

Her eyes were wide open. They didn't look scared, though. Maybe she'd been waiting for this for a while. They always did this thing in the movies, where they'd shut the dead's eyes. It was supposed to make them look dignified and peaceful in death, or something.

Gingerly, Ben's fingers approached Janie's eyes. He set her glasses down on her chest before approaching her eyes again. Somewhere in him, he'd been hesitant to touch her cloudy and unfocused eyes. He was expecting her to blink, or tear up after his hand pressed on the eyelid. He didn't expect to feel the clammy, cool flesh glide roughly over her dried, dead eye. It was just reconfirmation that Ben was once again alone.

"I don't know what to say, Janie. You didn't deserve to die here. But you also didn't deserve to have to come back home like this." Ben looked up at the camera. When he got rescued, Janie's parents would just be added to the roster of people who hated him. Right up there with Oscar's parents. Hell, right up there with Ben's own parents. Ben took Janie away from her parents. Ben could defend that he'd done it to spare them, as well as her, but they'd never believe him.

"I'm sorry, everybody. I hope you believe that I really am sorry. I think Janie believed it." Ben stood up. Janie rested comfortably in her metal coffin. She'd spent god knows how long hiding in there, rapidly dying. Ben saved her. That was what he promised her right from the beginning.