Survival Of The Fittest

((June Madison continues from Everyone's Asleep In The House But Me))

June stared at the plane Medea had led them to, seawater lapping inches from the soles of her suede boots, Medea right by her side. Right before they'd left their shelter, she'd set out their course for the day, said something about how there 'might be stuff' there. Medea didn't elaborate, and June understood.

No word had passed June's lips since the announcements passed by, about an hour or so ago. Their walk here had been silent, the shock of the news filling in all space.

Eleven dead already, by her count.

Iris wasn't among them.

"...at least K's still alive," she said out loud.

((Medea Parth continued from Dum Spiro Spero))

Medea approached the plane, being careful with her footing on the rocks. This was out of the way, but after hearing the announcements… She felt an urge to come this way. Intuition, perhaps? Some might call it God’s will, but Medea wasn’t sure about that. She believed in God, she was never the type to attribute everything to God.

Similarly, she never believed in the devil and she most definitely didn’t attribute every bad thing that happens with a being she didn’t think exists.

Such was the case upon learning eleven of her fellow classmates had died.

The news had shocked her to her core, though she knew to expect it. It didn’t change the fact it was awful. They were all still kids, they shouldn’t have to be involved in this or worry about it.

She tried to look on the bright side; to see things from the bright side. It was hard, but she was trying.

“I hope he is still okay,” she sighed.

She was also glad to hear that June wasn’t listed on the announcements. She had already forgiven her friend, but it was still good to know for sure that her friend was absolved of guilt.

((Andrew Lapson continued from Snowblind))

The unfortunate thing about night was that it made tracking footprints in the snow pretty fucking difficult, particularly when the person doing the tracking was fucking exhausted and needed to catch at least a couple hours of rest.

By the time Andrew awoke to the sound of the morning announcements, the trail seemed to be lost, and he was forced to try to follow its general direction, at least the direction that he seemed to recall. Why the fuck was he doing this anyway? False hope that he’d find someone with a better plan than curling up in some building and trying to wait this hellscape out as best he could?

And it was a fucking hellscape, the morning announcements had made that much clear. Andrew had made himself an island, about as much as one could in this class, resting at his own wavelength, drifting over grudges and fights and drama at school, but eleven deaths meant something, even if he couldn’t attach a face to every one of those names.

Approaching the shoreline, Andrew caught sight of a pair of girls, both facing away from him and seemingly talking amongst themselves. They were the first people he’d seen since the clown show back at the research station. He stopped moving.

Though the way between them and him was clear, there seemed to Andrew to be an impassable chasm between them, a voice whispering at the back of his mind that he’d be better off retreating once more to his solitude.

Perhaps that voice was wiser than him.

“Yo!” He called out, hands remaining at his sides.

She was supposed to feel better about Iris, right? That's how normal people would've felt. 'Hurray, you're not a murderer.'

Alternatively, she was supposed to be relieved about K still being alive, like she'd voiced to Medea, like Medea had agreed with in response. Because that was her friend, and he was still alive, and normal people were normally happy about their friends surviving a deadly situation.

Or, she could be on her hands and knees sobbing, because that's what other kids her age did after school shootings and natural disasters where eleven or more or less of their classmates died, regardless of how familiar or not they were to her. That's how it was supposed to be like any place other than here.

She couldn't summon any of those feelings, for some reason.

Part of her felt slightly relieved at her name not being on the announcements, yes. But it was a sick relief she would not, could not express to Medea. A relief at not being the worst person in her batch. Second-to-last consolation prize, as if Jesus would send her to heaven for having one less murder than some of her classmates.

And a more pressing feeling was uncertainty. Because she had felt the blood on her hands, she had heard Iris' voice cut out. So, there were two possibilities.

Either Iris had been dying a slow, slow death for the past twenty-four hours at June's hands, just barely alive enough to count as such to the terrorists, the possibility of which sent her stomach churning.

Or. There had been a girl running into the church when she had been running out. So, maybe the blood had just felt like a lot. Maybe she had overthought it, just like she overthought everything, according to everyone around her. And maybe that other girl, whoever she was, had been able to save Iris. And if Iris was alive, and if that girl had stuck around,

June was good at imagining. Too good, her therapist told her. What she would do, often, was imagine doing a thing, cursing out a classmate, for example, and following it to its logical conclusion, and sometimes an illogical aftermath. Her classmate would be mad at her, so she would shove him, punch him, knock him out, and her classmates would get videos and post it online, and everyone would hate her, and she would be kicked out of school. Something like that. Enough to send her into a bout of depression, all over something that had never even happened. It was embarrassing to even think about.

But anyways, she had always imagined that if she ever brought about her own downfall, it would be instant. Because that's how the world worked, consequences came before you even realized what you'd done to bring them about. If the terrorists had announced her name, it would've been instant. But now, it felt like a slow, slow poison creeping across her body, one which hadn't made its symptoms felt but would very soon. Nervous whispers, passed from person to person to person.

That situation with Cassie and Madeleine hadn't fully played out because she and Medea had run from it. She didn't know how they really felt about her, or if they even knew anything about it. But that was the thing, she would never really know. Iris could've told anyone about how horrible June was.

It left her on edge.

So, when a guy came up, yelled at them, June turned around and looked at him.

And she couldn't help but tug Medea a bit closer to her, in front of her, like a security blanket.

God really did curse everyone. Maybe he's laughing at all the pathetic ants that were either cowardly or weak or murderous. It's not like I wasn't a coward the other day, huh? Just because of a gun that could be fired off. But who wouldn't run away to survive? Still, I'm all alone now and I have no idea what the heck I'm supposed to do. Do I have to try to latch myself onto people to live to the end of this psychotic game..? Can I really use other people as meat shields? Without getting any blood on my hands? Even if it would be dirty and-

((Dave Dearborn continued from Casting The Runes))

Dave Dearborn had suddenly stopped his thought process.

Pausing everything as he could just barely see a group of three people. Two were closer together and the other one was a bit farther away from them. Now this would be the moment where he would make an approach, but he wanted to see what would happen first. It wasn't like they could see him anyway. He was barely visible from where he was standing and he preferred to keep it that way for the time being. He didn't want to run into a group of hostile people. He needed allies that would be friendly and naïve enough to take him in.

If he had to tell some lies here and there.... Well, he had to do whatever it would take for his own survival.

Even if he had to be completely selfish about everything.

And so, he waited to see what would happen between the three people. Waiting to see if it would be a good idea for him to stay or not.

She had been mulling over her thoughts when someone called out. She stopped in her tracks and turned in the direction of the voice. A guy stood there, collarbone length dark brown hair, whose name Medea was drawing a bit of a blank on. She thought it might be… Andrew, perhaps? Something close to that. She could feel June tugging her closer, getting placed in front of her friend and being placed between June and the newcomer. She supposed it made sense in a way. Medea knew she was much more capable navigating social situations, especially at present when things were so tense.

While it was understandable to be more cautious in Day 2 — especially with people having now been killed — Medea just couldn’t muster that same sort of caution. She understood why people did what they did, and in her heart of hearts she still thought that despite it all they could still be reasoned with. With that in mind she put on her best smile, doing her best to seem approachable and non-threatening in her body language. Everything was tense, people were on edge, and it was best not give them any reason to think this couldn’t be a normal, friendly encounter.

“Hello there!” she called out, waving a hand. “I’m Medea! Not sure if you knew that!” She then gestured to June. “And this is my friend June!”

When the girls turned to look his way, Andrew finally got a good enough look to tell who they were. Unfortunately, he didn’t know much about Medea and June beyond their names, but they didn’t seem like the sort that were prone to do anything too stupid. Then again, the way June hid herself behind Medea like some little kid at her mother’s side didn’t engender too much confidence.

“Yeah, I got the names.” Andrew called back, considering how exactly to proceed with that, before just shrugging and giving a resigned sigh.

“I’m Andrew, in case you didn’t know, and I’m just… I don’t know. Still working things out, I guess.” He explained, scratching the back of his head, not sure he could’ve made that any more suspicious sounding if he’d tried.

“Guess now that this shit is real–like, people are actually dead–I’m thinking I might wanna reconsider running around solo like a chicken with my head cut off.” Maybe there was a better way to phrase that.

“You guys got, like, a plan for this thing or something?”

A sort of self-disgust settled over June after she pulled Medea in front of her, a churning of the stomach. She'd used her friend as a human shield, she realized.

As quickly as she'd hidden behind Medea, she stepped off to the side again. The least she could do was to stand on her own.

Andrew, he said his name was, didn't seem to show much of a reaction to June's name, no matter how hard she tried to read his face. So, maybe he hadn't heard anything yet about her. That was good.

He was looking to them for guidance, for a direction, and June had nothing to offer him in terms of that. She couldn't explain what they were doing if she tried. She was just tagging along.

But she needed to contribute something at least, do more than hem and haw.

So, after a few seconds of awkward silence, she looked at him, said, "I think Medea does? She'd probably be happy to have you over but, I'll just let her explain what we're up to."

She looked to her, smiled hesitantly.

Dave realised that he needed to stop being indecisive. He had to decide if he wanted to join up with the three people or not. He needed to stop being so cowardly and to be braver.

So he made up his mind.

He started to slowly make his way over to where they were and he basically had to force his feet to move themselves. He could barely hear what they were talking about anyway.

As he was getting closer, he could see them more better and he almost called out to them. But then he realised that it would possibly scare them if he suddenly yelled. So he continued to trek closer. Hoping that he wasn't going to scare them with his silent approach.

Medea smiled nodding her head along as he spoke. It made sense that he’d want to work with others as it was just much safer that way. If anything, that just made her happy to know there were others that were willing to work together. Though whether or not Andrew had the same intentions as her was another matter.

“You guys got, like, a plan for this thing or something?”

"I think Medea does? She'd probably be happy to have you over but, I'll just let her explain what we're up to."

Medea stiffened, feeling as though she was just put on the spot. She supposed she had something of a plan in mind, though now she wasn’t all too confident now that she had to explain herself. She shifted where she stood, fidgeting with her hands as she looked around anxiously while smiling much more awkwardly.

“Well, I, uh…” She muttered, trying to think of how to explain. “I-it’s a bit complex, but, uh, it is a bit of a tinker project I had in mind. Not sure it will work, but I’m going to need a few things before I can see it through.”

She turned her attention back to the crashed plane, gesturing towards it.

“This wasn’t exactly part of the plan, but I figured we could maybe salvage something of value from it.” She explained, feeling more confident as she spoke. “I imagine the radio doesn’t work, but cannibalizing the insides might be possible for what I have in mind. Any copper wiring that is salvageable would also be quite useful, but I will settle with anything I can get my hands on.”

She paused, thinking for a moment. “Though I will also need the appropriate tools, which I no idea if I can get them. I’m sure I can work with whatever I get my hands on.”

She was about to go on when she paused again and smiled awkwardly.

“Sorry, I’m rambling, huh?”

From the corner of her eye she saw someone approach and turned her attention toward them. She shifted, moving closer to June as the newcomer approached.

“Um… Hello!” She greeted.

Turns out the human body shuts down after a certain amount of no rest.

((Adam Lader continued from I’M GOOD, I’M GOOD, I’M GREAT))

Slightly wrinkled laminated paper in his left hand, some bread crumbs in his right, Adam was slouched over in one of the four worn seats inside the plane while going in and out of sleep. The latter was stronger present currently. Wet pink strands of hair hung over his face, framing it as if he had just entered and embraced a new style. His legs were propped up on his duffle bag.

“Adam, you’re a fucking dumbass. But also smart." And lucky to not be among the announced dead. So why was he waiting for a sea creature to swallow the island whole when he stared out at the sea? Following the infinite ocean, it didn’t sound ideal. But what was?

An emergency blanket was draped over him. After he had wandered more parts of the island as planned, this plane had stood out to him. Maneuvering over the slippery and rocky parts wasn’t that easy with an injured ankle, but once he had made his way through the cabin door, he pretty muched collapsed to his knees.

And now, the white noise in his head made it difficult to register the voices outside.

Andrew pretty quickly got the sense that, whatever plan these two girls had, it wasn’t something they’d thought through or gone over all that much. Didn’t exactly lend much confidence to this whole enterprise. Still, beggars and choosers, all that.

“Alright, yeah.” Andrew nodded as he tried to think of the best way to properly respond, scratching his chin as he thought.

However, his focus was soon drawn away as another boy moved into view, saying absolutely nothing to announce himself as he approached. Medea seemed keen to welcome the new arrival, but Andrew was more skeptical, considering the manner of arrival.

“Uh, just gonna keep walking there, guy?” He asked, pointedly.

June had peered into the four-seater behind them while Medea explained her plan to Adam. In the background, she heard Medea explain the plan as a 'tinker project,' which was one way of putting to words whatever Medea had in mind. A useful euphemism to keep the terrorists off their backs, for a little while.

She glanced, and she saw a couple things. She saw copious smears of blood on the pilot's chair, for one. For two, she saw a pink-haired guy, Adam she thought his name was, slumped over in one of the seats behind.

June involuntarily took in a sharp breath, backed out. And she stepped back into her previous position, next to Medea She could feel her heart start to quicken.

Before she could begin to process what she'd just seen, someone else approached, a larger man she didn't recognize, and her thoughts felt somewhat more staticky, now that there were two things to deal with at once.

Why was he walking here so determinedly? Did he know her?

Did he know about her?

Was she just going to keep asking that question about everyone they ran into? For the rest of her life?

Medea was the one to edge closer to June this time. June decided it was her turn to be the shield. Quickly, she leaned into her friend's ear, whispered, "There's a guy in the plane behind us. Could you check on him?" And then, she swallowed the next deep breath, took a step or two forward so that, of the trio, she was the closest to the newcomer.

"Can uh- can we help you with anything?" she asked, trying to display some concern in her face, trying to stake a middle ground between Medea's hospitality and Andrew's hostility.

Dave felt himself stopping in his tracks, being a few steps away from where June was standing. She seemed to have more forward like she was a guardian angel right now. A human shield was really the word that he was looking for. Also, he really should have said something before. Damn.

"Oh, hey there." He felt like he was caught in a good cop-neutral cop-bad cop route at the moment and he glanced towards the plane briefly, not being able to see the blood on it yet. Or was it his mind just trying to block it out? "Just didn't want to scare you all if I had called out to you. Looks like that didn't really work with being quiet."

He let out an awkward laugh.

"I just came here to check out the plane." It was kind of a half-lie. "Is it okay if I go pass you guys or...?" He trailed off to see what they would say.

Even if he wanted to use his machete, which he didn't.... He couldn't as it was safely packed away in his bag.

Medea blinked, shuffling awkward in her spot. She looked from the two new guys to June to the plane. Lot of stuff happened at once and she was starting to feel a tad overwhelmed. She inhaled to steady herself. Everything was fine, she reminded herself. They were all just talking, no one was getting hurt. Things were okay.

She looked past her friend, smiling at the newcomer and slowly nodding her head.

“It is perfectly fine,” she said. “But, uh, just one moment.”

She turned her attention to the plane, opening up the door. Sure enough, June was right, there was someone there.

“Uh, hello?” She greeted. “Y-You okay?”