Survival Of The Fittest

((Alda Abbate Continued From Do You Know Who I Am?))

They had taken up residence in the big mansion during the night. Relatively big, at least. The larger one next door didn't look as torn to hell, but it also seemed like somewhere people were more likely to poke around. It was safer to sleep here. They found a room on the first floor and took watch through the night as they slept.

Alda had the last watch. Her shift passed uneventfully. She spent most of it trying to shake the vibe that someone had followed them. Seeing someone as crazy as Jaq was illuminating compared to her other encounters so far, and for the first time she felt really aware of the danger of the island.

The announcements were almost welcome when they came. It meant the others would be waking up and they could move on to somewhere new. Lay low, look for opportunities, and maybe finally find-

"Paulo Abbate went for a trip of his own, when he provoked Ian Williams. Williams hurled him off the overpass, and he landed hard. Easy ten count and out."

Her face froze. She threw the door behind her open and grunted out a message, barely registering that Kathryn and Iselle were still inside.

"Goin' for a walk."

If there was a response, she didn't hear it. She tromped out through the hall into the splattering rain outside and didn't look back.

((Kathryn Nguyen continued from Do You Know Who I am?))

"Be careful," Kathryn called to Alda's retreating back. She had no idea what was going through her head. They'd all lost friends, but to lose your brother, Kathryn couldn't imagine. She sat looking out through one of the broken windows, thinking about her brothers at home. Somehow it was comforting to know that they were safe at home.

"You know maybe this wasn't the greatest room to pick. With the broken windows and all, we really have two places to watch. Not that I'm really complaining. This is a vast improvement from the beach by the lighthouse where I spent the first night. I think maybe when Alda gets back we should talk about moving upstairs. Do you think she'll come back?"

((Iselle Ovalle-Vandermeer continued from Do You Know Who I Am?))

Iselle let Kathryn be the mother hen and simply grunted at Alda in response. It was rare that she was a a loss for words.  Her mouth was always going, usually some sarcastic or smart comment spilling from her lips.  It was partly what made her a good catcher.  A constant stream of chatter designed to get under the batter's skin, throw them off their game.  But what do you say to your friend when they hear that their brother is dead?  'Sorry' just wasn't going to cut it.  

It wasn't as if they had even really been making an effort to find Paulo.  He was a douche.  An annoying one, all machismo and swagger, who constantly was bagging on Alda and trying to make her feel bad about herself.  But he was her brother, and family is family.  She wondered if Alda was blaming them for not finding Paulo and saving him from his own dumb assery.  If the situation was reversed, would she blame the other girls for failing to save Fabi or Adan?

Frustrated and a little guilty, Iselle turned away from Kathryn and her questions.  Instead of answering right away, she kicked her supply bag as hard as she could and sent it sliding across the floor.  "That isn't a question," she snapped, not really sure why she was ripping on Kathryn but not stopping herself.  "Alda coming back isn't optional.  We're all we have left now.  You, me, her."

Iselle jabbed a finger at herself, then at Kathryn, then in the general direction of the window.  "We stay together, keep the team tight.  She wanders off, we go and get her dumb ass back.  The three of us together, that's the only way we're gonna make it through this."  She scrubbed at her face with her hands, trying to get her emotions under control.

She exhaled noisily.  "Sorry, sorry.  I don't know what's wrong with me.  The news about Paulo, it's making me wiggy.  Every day, the list of names get longer and it's freaking me out, you know?  Sometimes I wonder if we need to be worried about Andi or not.  But you're right.  We need to focus on what we can control and how to use it to our best advantage.  Upstairs might be better because it would be more secure, but we would have a harder time getting out of the building from an upstairs room.  I would almost suggest finding a windowless room, like a bathroom, but then we have the same issue.  We're trading off security for an ability to leave quickly.  Between the three of us, we're doing okay in terms of being armed.  Although nothing we have will stack up to a gun."

Iselle realized she was rambling.  "Long story short, the windows might be an advantage to us if we can use them for escape routes in case shit gets crazy.  Only question is, can our collective fat asses fit through them?"  She motioned at herself and favored Kathryn with a self-deprecating smile.  

Easy ten count and out.

The words kept playing through her head. Through all of it, that was the real slap in the face. Joking about Paulo's jiujitsu bullshit. Somehow, that made it all worse.

Her aimless march through the downpour halted in front of a tree as she seethed.

She could just see him. Swaggering around on the edge of the overpass, puffing out his chest and shit-talking like it was their fucking backyard.

The coiled cat unfurled as she shifted her grip. She'd unwound it a few times these last few days. A couple days ago, she'd even been ready to use it. Tensed up, waiting to pounce, and then...nothing. The girls had talked her down. Jaq had left.

She lashed into the tree. The sensation of the leather tearing into the bark, even minutely, felt satisfying. Physical. Something that she could control, handle, understand.

Fucking Paulo.

Leather raked against wet wood as her focus intensified.

Fucking MMA.

The memories were flooding her now. He'd been into it before...and then afterwards, when he had a face, and a name, and a life to put into that hole he'd nursed for years, he was obsessed. That's when they started being pulled apart.

Fucking deadbeat.

She rocked back and forth, grunting as she bit into the trunk again and again.

She never cared about him. He wasn't there, so he didn't even deserve the thought. Paulo idolized him though. That really pissed her off, for some reason.

Maybe she never really hated him because he didn't exist to her. She'd never met him. His influence wasn't part of her life. But Paulo...Paulo was there. Paulo had always been there, but he was less and less himself as time went on. He kept trying to be him. He kept trying to force him back into their lives when they didn't need him.

"Fucking needy dipshit..."

Her thoughts were leaking out through her mouth now, but she didn't care. Her arm started to ache from constant motion, but she pushed on anyway. More angry marks dug into the tree as she kept going.

"Copied every little detail you could get your hands on...worked your ass off for his dead-end, waste of time sport...talked exactly how you thought he would...even used his fucking name..."

He probably thought they didn't know about that, but she'd heard. She'd never told her mother, but she'd heard, and she'd sunk it as another piece of flotsam in the well of anger inside her.

"You always wanted to be just like him..."

Her voice went from a growl to a snarl, building up volume as she whipped faster, stripping as much bark from the tree as she could with every stroke.

"Well you finally did it, didn't you? Mimicked him right down to the detail, right down to abandoning us, just like-"

Bark split.

"That!"

Her palm throbbed from the exertion.

"FUCKING!"

The screams started to carry through the yard, but she didn't give a damn who heard her.

"WORTHLESS!"

Vibrations shook through her body from the cold and exertion with each sloppy strike.

"PIECE OF!"

There was a pounding in her temples. Her face felt flushed, and her breath was ragged. She was soaked to the skin and shivering violently. She didn't even pause.

"SHIT!"

The slickness finally caused the cat to slip from between her fingers as she swung back in. As if on queue, her body collapsed for a rest, bringing her to her knees as she sucked in air greedily, shaking and staring a hole into the ground.

Sweat and rain were all that dripped from her face, though. She didn't cry. The thought never even crossed her mind. Tears weren't for her. Not now. There was no time to grieve. Not when the anger she nursed inside of her felt so vibrant and alive. Not when for once, she had a real, acceptable target to pin it on. Something that wasn't so distant that she could never invest herself in it, or so close to her heart that she could never really despise it. Something with a face and a name that she could envision and just hate, and plan.

She lifted up off of the ground and glanced at bare patch of trunk in front of her face. With a nod, she silently brushed her damp bang out of her face,  retrieved the cat, and headed back towards the mansion.

(Rosemary Michaels continued from What Now? )

"Paulo Abbate went for a trip of his own, when he provoked Ian Williams. Williams hurled him off the overpass, and he landed hard. Easy ten count and out."

Rosemary wanted to scream.

Her and Meera had gotten lost, trying to navigate back to the overpass through the woods. And because of that Paulo was dead. He had nobody to tell him to fucking stop like they should have before and now he was dead just like the other half of their classmates. Another number like Becca, like Joey.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit...!" Rosemary hissed under her breath. She wasn't crying this time- she was angry. Angry that Paulo had to act like a stupid tough guy and search for Maximilian instead of just letting it go that he was dead! They were dead, but Paulo was not. Not the last time she saw him.

Memories came back to her about Paulo. He was almost joking around when they were eating the night she came back. Of course he was on edge, like all of them were, but it felt almost normal again. Like it was before they found Becca's body... god that felt so long ago. Then the announcements came and Paulo went with them with his pride. Fucking stupid pride.

Pride didn't keep you alive.

She was about to go out of the outcrop of trees around the mansion when someone walked by, ducking down for shelter. A girl holding a whip with a terrifying expression. It took her a moment to recognize the face of Alda Abbate.

Before she could react to this and speak up, Alda started screaming and beating against a nearby tree. Rosemary fell silent. She watched the display that was nothing like grief, something more akin to rage.

It scared her- more than she thought it would. She had seen Joey's head explode in front of her, had been threatened by two murderers in the past six days, and nothing had been so physically frightening as the display Alda had just pulled.

As the girl walked away, Rosemary stared blankly at the white bark of the tree.

"Alda heard."

(Meera Stele continued from What Now?)

"Um...yeah. She heard," Meera echoed, her voice quiet.

After they'd gotten lost, she'd known. Somehow, she'd known they weren't going to find Paulo, and that all of the efforts they'd made today had been wasted. They'd have found him a long time ago, if he were alive. But right up until the very moment the sarcastic, biting terrorist had announced Paulo's name, she hadn't wanted to believe he was really gone.

Now her heart was beating with alarming rapidity, and her fingers were curled into tight little fists. It wasn't just that she was sad, wasn't just that she was angry. It was that people were dying, and she couldn't do a damn thing about it.

First Joey's accident, now Paulo. How much longer before it was her or Rosemary's name that was read aloud by Danya? She wanted so desperately to be able to cry, or scream, or throw something, but quickly decided none of those reactions would be able to fittingly express her fury at the sheer powerlessness she felt in this situation/

"Running off alone. How stupid could he get?" she muttered, just loud enough for Rosemary, who was murmuring breathless curses to herself, to hear.

She mouthed the words "such a fucking idiot..." but couldn't find the strength to force the syllables from her lips. What good would it do, to speak ill of the dead? Whatever had happened, they'd failed again.

She forced her attention back to Alda. She hadn't seen such a forceful display of rage from anyone in her time on the island. It was strange, a little bit frightening, but somehow relatable. It was oddly comforting to know she wasn't the only person who felt pure, unbridled fury at the news of Paulo's death.

Meera and Alda weren't so different, she realized. The difference was that she let the fury stew within her, while it looked as though Alda had unleashed it to its fullest.

"Do you think she's dangerous?" Meera whispered to Rosemary, voice shaky.

"I don't know I think my rifle would stand up alright against a gun," Kathryn said sarcastically. "I still think we should check out upstairs. See what's up there. Maybe we could tie blankets together make a rope if we have to leave quickly. Although from what I've heard there doesn't seem to be a rhyme or reason or clue for that matter as to who's suddenly going to go crazy and try to kill us.

You know, it's raining out there. Alda's going to be soaked if she stays out much longer. Maybe we should see if this place has a fireplace. I mean it is a mansion, or at least was once."

Kathryn stood and headed towards the room's entrance. "Think our stuff is okay here?"

"I forgot about your rifle.  At this point, I'm about ready to find a liquor store and drink it. Sounds like Alda would sign on for that challenge too."  Iselle rubbed her her face as Alda's enraged cries stopped.  "Good call on the fire place issue.  It's fleaking cold today.  A fire would lift our spirits, dry out Alda, and warm us all up."

She motioned at her bag, which was still across the room.  "Yeah, I'm sure our bags will be fine. But take the weapons with us, yeah?  I really don't want to be caught unaware.  Not any more."  Iselle followed in Kathryn's wake.  As they hit the doorway, she called out towards the front of the house, "You coming in, Alda?  We're gonna look around for a place to start a fire."  

Alda stalked back inside without a word. She heard Iselle call out to her, and then the only sound within the house was the creaking of their foot-steps and the soft splattering of rain drops as they fell from her body to the floor.

"Hey."

Catching up to the other girls didn't take long. As she spoke, her face was held in cold neutrality. She shivered, and dripped, and shook, but it was hard to tell how much of it was from the chill pressing in from the air around her, and much was from the boiling emotion seeking to escape from within.

"We know what the plan is yet? 'Cuz if you're still taking suggestions, I might have one or two."

The leather hilt of the whip rolled back and forth against her palm as she waited for a response.

Rosemary moved her shotgun to the side and used a damp wrist to rub her nose, but did not sniffle. The freshness of the island during and after the rain was actually helping her from getting any bad cases of allergies. It washed away pent up dust in some areas and underlying bouts of pollen that would probably otherwise be abundant. Yet it was a two sided coin as well, if she and Meera stood out her in the rain much longer they'd probably catch colds, and then they'd be even worse off.

"Dangerous? Yes." She answered truthfully, blinking some rain water that had dripped down from her hood away. Someone with so much pent up rage was dangerous.

"To us, though? ... I don't know."

She tightened the grip on the firearm, holding the barrel down to try and prevent water from getting in. She should have just stored it in her bag...

"... All Alda had was that whip, so either someone took her bag, or she left it inside. It would be a bad move to leave your supplies out in the open like that... she might have other people with her." Which could be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on who those people were. But she did know that standing outside would not help their situation.

"Let's go in. You have the Kukri out in the open and I have the shotgun, and when we meet her we tell her that we don't mean any trouble and we just want out of the rain. If they get... hostile... we'll leave immediately."

Rosemary looked back and forth to see if anyone else was around, before stepping out of the covering and motioning to Meera. "It's clear, you ready?"

"Yeah," Meera took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever was to come. She couldn't hide her nervousness. This was the first other group they'd encountered since-- well, since she'd met up with Garrett, Iselle, and Joey on the first day of the game. Rosemary and Paulo had felt like a natural continuation of that group, even though Garret was gone, Iselle had never really been part of i, and Joey was dead. But now it was down to just her and Rosemary, facing a group that, for all they knew, would kill them and set their heads up on spikes or something.

Rosemary motioned to her, urging her to follow, but Meera hesitated for a few seconds. It was different for Rosemary, who had spoken face to face with Joachim and Joe, two of the game's killers. But Alda was the first person Meera had met on the island since Rosemary and Paulo. Though Danya had named nearly half of their classmates by now, Meera realized hadn't seen more than six or so other people during her time on the island.

Well, there was Becca's corpse. But somehow Meera didn't think that counted.

"It's clear, you ready?" said Rosemary.

She nodded a "yes," then followed Rosemary. As she approached the doorway that Alda had vanished into moments before, Meera felt her heart begin to race once again. Whatever was left of her once-confident exterior was crumbling, and she wanted nothing more than to turn around.

But there was safety in numbers. And who knew, maybe there might be a friend of hers with Alda?

The thought emboldened her. She had no idea how many people were with Alda, but no matter what she couldn't let them think she was weak. She'd seen too much death on the island in the past few days, and didn't particularly feel like getting herself gutted like a coward.

"Hello?" she called, pushing open the door.

Kathryn was at the foot of the stairs when Alda joined them. She half turned to answer Alda's question, but continued up the stairs. "The plan is explore the house, find a fireplace, and then build a fire. Iselle and I were also trying to figure out if it was a smart idea to claim one of the upstairs rooms. It makes it harder for people to get to us, but it also can make it harder for us to escape," Kathryn said with a sigh as the barrel of the gun got caught on the edge of the stairs again. She pulled it onto her shoulder and then swung it down, afraid that she was aiming at Iselle or Alda.

Halfway up the stairs now, she turned completely around to address her companions. "How am I supposed to hold th…," she stopped and looked past them as a hello came from the front door.

Iselle let out an undignified squawk and spun towards the voice, raising her walking stick in a defensive position.  Of all the stupid fucking places to get bottle-necked, OF COURSE it would happen while they were on the stairs.  'God damn you and your stupid fucking plan, Kathryn', she fumed silently as she grimaced at the new comers.

The sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears, Iselle let her wrath loose on the new comers.  "The fuck do you want?" she demanded.  There wasn't enough space to maneuver.  Shit, shit, shit.  If anything happened right now, it would be all bad.

Alda spun around as she heard the door swing open. Was she followed? Had someone been watching her?

Because that would be a big fucking mistake.

The rocking of the cat stilled as she stared into the doorway. "What do you want?" Her tone was as unwavering as her expression, edged with equal notes of surprise and anger. One girl held a knife, and the other a shotgun. If they tried something here in the tiny room, the team might be forced to...

Goddamn did she hope they would try something.

Rosemary was right, Alda had not been alone. She stared forward at the three girls on the stairway, trying not to flinch under Alda's glare.

All they had to do was say what they came in for, make peace, and when they rain stopped they would leave. Looked like both parties had a shotgun, so wouldn't it be mutually assured destruction if either did something funny?

But still- three against two was not the best odds for her and Meera, even if the one with the gun- she thought it was Kathryn, another girl on the soft ball team was rather petite. And then there was Iselle, who had killed someone on the very first day they were here. She would have to keep calm to make sure nothing with happen to her or Meera. They were all they had left.

"It's raining outside," She started. "We had been searching for someone in our group before the announcements came on, and it turns out they're dead now. We're tired, and we just want to stay here until the rain stops."

Rosemary did not say anything about Paulo. Probably bringing him up right now would not be the best course of action, so she just stood looking at Alda. She would be the one they had to convince right now.

"We can take different parts of the house, and if we move somewhere we can announce it so nobody gets surprised. And when this rain is over we'll go." She repeated the last part, her voice wavering a little as she swallowed. She had to be brave, she had won a riddle contest against a multi-kill player! This was not as bad as that.

She had said her peace, and now all they had to do was wait and see if the gauntlet fell or not.