The Man Comes Around

[Cactus]

Help was coming.

Rescue was on its way.

A Lorenzen would never leave another Lorenzen behind.

Everything was going to be fine.

As he sat, looking out at the setting sun from the side of the cliffs on the island, the boy couldn't help but wonder if any of those familiar refrains were even at all true. Had any of them ever been something that he'd actually believed, or had his mind conjured them up as a defense mechanism?

The sun slowly set; he sighed along with it.

((Connor Lorenzen continued from High Hopes))

It was strange, in a way. For most of the day after leaving Juliette behind, he had made a point to try and avoid populated areas, stick to the woodlands almost exclusively. Doing so made keeping a low profile simple, listening for any indicators that humanity was lurking around the next corner. Keeping his head down while standing at almost six and a half feet tall was a feat, but Connor knew that more than anything, he had to make that a priority. It was difficult; as a natural extrovert, Connor craved human contact, it energized him. Yet since listening to Juliette describe the deaths of his fellow classmates in such a clinical manner, joking about murder as though it were just another day in Chattanooga; he couldn't shake it. It was always there, lurking beneath the surface, threatening to blow out the top of his head.

The feeling that someone might decide to take a run at him for some perceived high school slight had followed him around all day long. There were certainties that came with being a high school quarterback of some renown. Connor knew that some people were probably envious of him. He was tall, he was wealthy, he came from a prominent family whose influence stretched from one corner of Chattanooga to another. Killing the son of Steven Lorenzen wouldn't have necessarily been the first thing through the mind of any of his classmates, but he imagined that it would quietly make some of his father's competitors rather pleased. It was a ruthless way to think, but the business world was ruthless; a weak enemy was weak, no matter how they were weakened.

No, if someone here was going to take a shot at him, it was going to be out of a sense of frustration for some silly high school slight. Connor was the prom king — better take him down, he's too popular! Connor was friends with the Carters, better take him out before they can wreak havoc upon the island. Connor was too stuck-up for his own good, gotta chop him down to size!

All ridiculous things to say, yet here, evidently, people had been killed for less.

The words still — he kept repeating to himself — didn't compute. He hadn't seen a single body yet. Connor had yet to witness a sole act of violence against another person. In a sense, it was almost a denial of his circumstances. It was far easier to sit here, on his own, watching the sun set and enjoying what could possibly be the last hours of his life.

The last hours... no. Connor refused to accept that. While the sinking feeling that rescue was not actually going to arrive continued to give him a great deal of anxiety, sitting and watching the sunset was allowing him to maintain some sense of dignity. What was he going to do now? All of his life, Connor had done whatever possible to try and hold on to his dignity, to keep in control of each situation he came across. It was all lessons learned in advance of a career spent in the limelight. Everyone would know his name, he needed to remain in control at all times.

Everyone would certainly know his name; that hadn't changed.

Sighing, Connor scratched the patchy beard that had grown upon his face over the past few days. He had been ignoring the smell from his own lack of hygiene, just trying to press forward and avoid anyone that might complicate a rescue effort. But now... now that it was readily apparent that rescue was likely off the table, he had to make a plan. He had to swallow his own fear and find some way to press himself through this hellish ordeal. As a general rule, he tended to keep most people at arm's reach. Opening up to people was an attractive proposition at times, and yet the less people truly knew, the less they could use against you.

So whom did he count amongst his allies? Fiddling with the multitool, Connor counted them off in his mind. There was Ace; he'd already run into Ace. As long as he stood next to Ivy Langley, that was off-limits. So Ace was out.

Bret and Wyatt Carter; the dastardly duo of George Hunter's gossip scene. There was never a day that went by where someone wasn't whispering their names as though they were a pair of pariahs. Connor knew better. They were brusque, alpha, and didn't suffer fools, but Connor was no fool, and the two boys had become two of his closest friends. They were dangerous company, but he trusted them. They were probably first on the list.

Other people's faces brushed through his mind, some of whom he knew wouldn't be on the trip. He had a strange friendship with Ross Miller, but Ross missed the trip. Lucky guy. Most of the football team hadn't come either, Kayden and Beau having stayed back. Jeff Greene was here, but probably not exactly his idea of an ally. Jeff was surly, really obviously didn't like Connor, and was the kind of person who made rash decisions. No thanks.

Madison was the last name on his list. It was an obvious one; one he wanted to find more than any of the others. His girlfriend was infuriating at times, and he couldn't imagine how any of this had been affecting her. Yet she had been as far out of his mind as he could push her, just so that the thought of her going through this awful ordeal was something he didn't think about.

But he was thinking about it now.

Letting his head thump back onto the tree, Connor found his determination again.

So that was that. He had a plan.

If nothing else, it was a start.

He would get up and go find his people — not before watching the sunset, though.

Connor knew he might not get another chance.

((Connor Lorenzen continued in Whatever))