Survival Of The Fittest

(Chester Folk, continued from Isolation)

They finally made it to the camp. Thank goodness. Chester had done enough walking for a while. It would be nice to go inside the cabin and catch his breath. But, he kept in the front of his mind why they came to the camp. To find some supplies for a fire.

Chester turned to Perante, to make sure he was still following.

“We made it,” Chester said taking a deep breath, “Think we should look in the cabin first?”

(Perante Losoa continued from Seclusion)

"Weeeellllllll... Hmm."

Perante found himself walking slightly behind Chester during the trip, so when the question was asked he waked up right beside the other boy and started looking around.

Not like it was that long of a search, everything else seemed rather insignificant in comparison. The cabin itself looked worn down and unsightly too but if they were to find anything it'd be inside of there.

"That's like, our best chance I'd say. Someone could be in there though, I'm gonna go ahead and knock first. Better safe than sorry, dontcha think?" He thought out loud as he inched forward.

He took off the brass knuckles before knocking, not wanting to seem like a threat if the door opened. Murphy's Law sat on his shoulder like a devil and told him to reconsider and put them back on. All it took was one mistake before... Well you know.

"Hey, anyone inside?" His voice soft like he was just checking up on someone after a bad episode. He stepped back and to the side afterwards.

"I'm friendly, ya know." He added as an afterthought. "Just wanna make that clear."

He held his breath and waited for any sort of response.

S043: DONOVAN LAUER — CONTINUED FROM "Until Dawn"

Donovan jolted awake in an instant. Half-light, fight-or-flight. His right hand darted to the pistol's handle and held it tight—a death grip. His left hand wiped the rheum out of his eyes. He muttered a curse under his breath, only a solitary thought in his head:

"Fuck's that noise?"

His eyes darted to the door, fists flying on the other side. Then, a voice. It was vaguely familiar; not a friend, or even close, but someone he knew. The name was beyond him at the moment—fuck, he'd remember it later. Whatever. It said it was friendly. Did he believe it?

He wasn't sure yet.

Donovan scrambled to his feet, then pulled himself up. For a moment, the table was nothing more than leverage. His right hand swept across the surface as he made an uncertain stand, the list of names—which, in his wisdom, he'd never read—reduced to a smear of soot. He barely noticed.

A glance at Jenny—was she still asleep? Donovan couldn't tell. If so, she wouldn't be for much longer. His right hand went to his pocket. In a flash, he drew the gun, both hands clasping the grip, eyes aiming down the sights at the door.

"Who's there?" he shouted, more a demand than a question. "We're armed to the teeth—don't try anything. Back the fuck up, answer the question, and tell us what you want." There was nothing wrong with a little bit of exaggeration. They didn't need to know that only one had a gun.

If push came to shove, he could pull the trigger fast enough to ensure they wouldn't ever learn.

Jenny had only just woken up from the loud noise Donovan was making. She rubbed her head and glanced over with blurry eyes at the direction of the door.

"Don? What's going on...?"

Slowly, she got up, and when she saw Donovan point the gun at the door, she grabbed the Voulge from her bag and ran towards the opposite side of Donovan. Her footsteps were probably loud enough to be heard as she was so panicked. But she didn't hear what the people outside said.

She had to find out what happened.

"Don, what's happening? Are they trying to hurt us!?" she whispershouted towards him, her hands gripped tightly on her weapon, her heartbeat skyrocketing, and even though she was calm before, she could feel sweat trickling down her forehead. Fight or flight senses kicking in, but she couldn't give in to both. Not yet. She remembered how to breathe, and tried to think of it like she was in a sports game and not a life-and-death situation involving her friends.

Whether or not Donovan or the other people explain, she'll be ready for the worst, she hoped...

“Good thinking,” said Chester.

Chester followed Perante to the door of the cabin. Chester gave him the thumbs up as Perante was about to knock on the door.

“Who’s there? We’re armed to the teeth—don't try anything. Back the fuck up, answer the question, and tell us what you want."

Whoever was inside wasn’t in a friendly mood, that’s for sure.

“We’re not here to hurt you,” said Chester, trying to back up Perante, “Like he said, we’re friendly.”

Chester thought about what he could say next, that way whoever was inside didn’t come out with whatever weapon they had, ready to cause damage.

“We just wanna take a look around. Let’s talk, okay?”

That's certainly a cue to keep a bit of distance. Perante could feel his heart rate rising as the thought that others were here was confirmed. Good thinking on his part. Unfortunate news for him that they could be rather hostile- The voice said "us", Perante could only guess as to how many people were in there. He swore he could hear something inside but that didn't exactly translate exactly as to how many were inside.

"It's me. It's Perante." He said, each word being individually assessed in his brain as he focused on just getting the words out. He could almost vividly imagine the words in his mind, being read through like a script. It was just a couple of lines but everyone knows even if you only have a small part, it's not something you want to mess up.

He glanced over for a moment to see Chester joining in. "Oh, Chester is here with me." He said, only after the other kid started speaking.

He stayed quiet as he let him finish his lines before he nodded his head. "That's right. We don't want to be trouble."

Just to make sure, he took another couple of steps back away from the cabin. These two did not have anything good in terms of weapons and if the ones inside are truly in fact armed to the teeth (who was he to believe otherwise?) then he wanted some space in case something did start going wrong.

"I'm backing up." He said, just to make it obvious.

Donovan had been ready for this to escalate. For the people outside to try and bust down the door or something. If they had, he would've shot them all up like Space Invaders before they took a single step through the door. They'd look like swiss cheese, holes punched in like paper, half a clip in their corpses.

He thought he'd need to use his weapon. In the end, he jumped the gun.

Donovan thought they'd go hard and play to win. But these people did what he asked—gave him their names and reasons and backed off. Derek hadn't done that. Bill had spat insults at him. These people, though, whose faces he couldn't even see? They gave in. That was something he hadn't ever expected.

Maybe it was because of his guilty conscience—his dirty hands, covered in blood and soot—that he'd expected the worst. Because if he could do it, then so could everyone else. He was a liar and a cheat and a thief and a robber, and he'd profited at every step in that process. So, if it worked for him, why wouldn't everybody do that?

Or maybe it was because, in the end, this was a game. And Donovan always played hard. In something like basketball, he'd always thought that the people who should win were those who deserved it—that if you put in the work, give it your all, and wanted it badly enough, you'd get somewhere eventually.

You'd put your foot on the pedestal and step into the big leagues. They'd put you in the Hall of Fame. You'd be a legend, and everyone would know your name. Go down in history. But real life didn't work like that, no matter how hard he wished it to be. His athletic scholarships—or rather, that he didn't have a single one—showed that.

"Okay, okay, okay," Donovan repeated like a broken record. It was time to backpedal: "Sorry—just that you guys woke us up. This island, it's scary shit, you know? Gotta stay on our toes." Maybe they'd even believe it. "Anyway, it's Donovan here. Jenny's with me."

Jenny breathed a sigh of relief. At least people were talking. That was a first. Well, not really. Donovan talked with her too, and if he wasn't here, those two may have rushed into the cabin without any warning. Jenny gave a small nod to Donovan as she gripped the door handle.

"Okay. I'm opening the door! No sudden movements!"

She didn't like this feeling in her chest. Threatening people, giving demands, but if she pretended like she was just leading a team, like a captain, maybe she could feel less guilty about it. She was just glad these people were willing to talk.

Would she have killed them if it had come down to it? Jenny didn't want to think about that, because she truly didn't know the answer.

Slowly, she opened the door.

The cabin door opened, and thankfully wasn't followed by the sound of gunfire. Donovan and Jenny, two basketball players, had taken shelter. Donovan told them they had been sleeping, and Chester and Perante had just woke them up.

"Sorry about that," said Chester, "I'd be pretty irritated if someone woke me up like that. Heh."

Awkward pause.

"Anyway, yeah," Chester continued, "This island is dangerous. We were hoping to find a way to send a signal for help. I figured this place would have something useful. Like firewood."

The first thing that caught his attention were the weapons on display. One of them had a spear looking thing and as expected, there was a gun. It just served as another reminder to him that the two of them were really fucked if anything went wrong. The image of what a confrontation with these two would've looked like came quickly, struck him with some fear, and left as soon as it appeared. Like someone getting hit by a car.

The second thing that came to mind were the names of the two people in front of him now.

"Jenny and Donovan." He repeated, a smile was tacked onto his face as the door opened. "Hello there." Names helped to bring up he thought. Makes things more personal, if only unconsciously. Just another reminder that these weren't strangers, these were classmates on this island. As much as he can, he had to give that reminder.

In the back of his mind, he was glad that Chester was willing to speak as well. Just so he didn't have to say anything inane, he simply had to nod and go along with it.

The door opened—light flowed into the dark cabin. Immediately, Donovan's eyes shot towards one place in particular: their hands. He wanted to see all the cards on the table. Perante had some brass knuckles, nothing special. In poker terms, one pair. But Chester didn't seem to have anything; his cards were close to his chest.

"He's hiding something," was the first thought on his mind. "I'll keep an eye on him."

Donovan didn't trust anything he couldn't see. And, right now, he couldn't see Chester's weapon. It made him antsy. So, though he lowered the gun, he kept it in his hands. Just in case, you know? If this motherfucker pulled a knife or whatever he had, then Jenny—or, worse, him—could end up like Spike. And he didn't want that.

He'd seen enough stab wounds for a lifetime.

"You don't have to say that twice," he said. Oh, the island's dangerous? Thanks, Captain Obvious. "But, yeah, take a look around. We'll grab our stuff and step out a second." His voice had warm overtones but a stern implication in his words. "We're not gonna leave our bags with you, no offense—hope you don't mind."

Donovan walked towards the table, one eye on the new arrivals, one eye on Jenny. Then, he knelt, reached his left hand under it, and grabbed it by the strap. He pulled, lifted it, swung it around his shoulder, and stood back up. Then, Donovan nodded at Jenny as if to tell her to do the same. The saying "monkey see, monkey do" was applicable.

He looked back at them. "All yours," he said as he invited them in.

As Jenny watched the two of them enter, she shot a glance over at Donovan. She knew him enough to know that he was on guard, and considering what he'd been through, Jenny could understand. Maybe she should also be on guard too. Jenny had been lucky to stay alive in the first day, maybe she wouldn't be so lucky on the second.

"Hey," Jenny replied. She could at least offer a reply. She kept her spear close to her side, ready in case of anything, or at least as ready as a girl her age with her experience with a spear could be. When they entered, she closed the door. "Where have you guys been? Seen anyone else?"

She figured they'd either be lying or telling the truth, and she needed to test what they knew. Both Donovan and Jenny ran into people as she got here, and while she didn't quite know how many students were on the island, she could hazard a guess that her entire group had been taken, and that's a lot of kids. Surely the terrorists would've dropped them in groups, right? If not so that they could survive the first day together, so that they could... well, start shooting each other with guns, she supposes.

At the very least there was no blood on them, which was a good sign. Unless they cleaned after themselves.

No, don't be paranoid. Be on guard, not paranoid.

She turned towards them and awaited an answer.

“Thanks,” Chester said to Donovan as he entered the cabin.

He waved to Jenny when she greeted him. Chester figured he should really do his best to stay on her good side, considering she had a spear with her.

“We were held up at the mine foreman’s office for the first day with Amos and Aion,” Chester said, “But we haven’t seen anyone else since then.”

"No- Yeah, no, I get it." The lack of trust on Donovan's side made total sense to him, not like he had those same thoughts back. Not like it did much to help his nerves, but it was the truth so what could he do about it? He started fiddling with the brass knuckles again before he realized and stopped.

"Right yeah, Amos and Aion. Though like, they met a couple of others before us so we've heard of some of the others at least. But like..." He didn't let himself finish that sentence. Just following up with a shrug as if that was good enough to complete the thought.

"Well what about you two?" He said. "Maybe you've seen more of our classmates here than us."

He wasn't sure why he tried to deflect, he guess a couple of seconds later that it was just to figure out what these two were doing this entire time. There are whole stories that he might never cross paths with after all, days of hell in which so much happens that he'll be blissfully (in a certain sense) ignorant of.

As for what he could find in this cabin, the main idea on his mind was how the whole thing was made out of wood. Theoretically he could just suggest the idea of setting this whole building ablaze instead. Would save time. Gets pretty much the same effect.

Trust was a luxury.

And, as far as Donovan was concerned, there wasn't much room for luxury on this island. There had never been room for it when he was home, even at the best times, so why would now be the right time? Donovan may have qualified for a free lunch, but he didn't plan to give one to these people—especially when it was on his bill.

"We haven't exactly lucked out, sorry to say," he murmured. He wasn't sure he wanted to show his hand so early, but he didn't plan to keep playing around for long. His finger was on the eject button. "We've only met killers and thieves so far. Not the company I like to keep, but if you wanna go looking, knock yourself out."

Donovan paused again and looked at Jenny. Then, back to them. A pang of sympathy in his eyes. "I was there when Spike got knifed. And, uh, watch out for Crystal—she's turned criminal, robbing folks. Took Jenny's stuff." He didn't look away from them. It was the least he could do. "That's the gist, I think."

Donovan frowned. Two for two, as far as pieces of information go. As far as he was concerned, that was a fair trade. They were square. Then again, when, in this game, had he cared about playing fair? He was letting his guard down too much. Better to leave now, before he started to re-develop his conscience.

He seized Jenny's hand and pulled her close. He took one, two, then three steps away from the cabin. Then, he whispered to her. "We should go. I don't wanna be a sitting duck." At the very least, this gave him an excuse to keep moving. His legs were desperate for some movement, and he agreed with them.

Donovan started to run. In one hand was the gun—in the other, Jenny's hand. He wasn't sure where he wanted to go, but he was sure of this: they needed to keep pace. They couldn't just sit in a bunker and hunker down all day—sooner or later, they'd need to act. And, from that point of view, anywhere was better than here.

S043: DONOVAN LAUER — CONTINUED IN "Zone Defense"