However long and hard the road,

[Dr Adjective]

[Evie McKown carries on in spite of terror.]

Sleep hadn’t come easy, waking up came easier than the slumberer would’ve liked.

Evie McKown, high school senior, killer of four, awoke with a start. The announcement hadn’t started, it wasn’t light, nobody was breaking in, yet something had startled her awake. She sat up, threw off the emergency blanket, fumbled for the nearest gun… and soon realised that she was still alone. Completely alone.

So Evie rose, and readied herself for the day. She checked her ammunition, she forced a comb through her lank, greasy hair, and by the time she got to massaging the cold and stiffness out of her limbs, the expected wake-up call sounded. After yesterday, after nearly blundering right into Kitty and her grenade launcher? This time Evie was paying attention.

Teddie was first on the list. Had it not been ten days in, Evie might’ve taken it worse. Her confidante, the boy who’d had the good heart to accept her, to keep her secret, to share his advice without hard feelings. A good person as well as a good friend. Now his ferret was an orphan. Somehow that part seemed to make her feel worse than the news that the boy was dead.

Next, her own limelight. Rather faint praise, which had Evie wondering why part of her had been hoping for more. At least she got the reference, she’d played Super Smash Bros. Next Trinity Ashmore joined the killer roster, Karin Han’s luck ran out, so did Victor Grail’s. Another kill at Julia Guercio’s hand, not someone Evie intended to stop winning against any time soon. Sure she had an award for her efforts, but Evie still had twice the count. Speaking of count, why was Shu Hawthorne being described as a real contender? He’d killed his girlfriend a week ago and then gone quiet, only to commit suicide? Oh well, not worth worrying about. Nor were the three who’d died of cold one way or another.

Next up came Kitty’s ninth life, and finally, Salem being a significantly better shot than Lily had been. That’s where the real competition lay, active, well-armed, ruthless. People to be avoided, unless she could get the drop on them. Speaking of danger, finally the matter of danger zones. Half the research station, apparently. She’d have to move.

And that was it for the day. Except for the matter of the award… which of course wasn’t her. No, Trinity Ashmore impressed by smacking someone over the head, the little femme dork must’ve really put on a show. More disappointed than actually angry, Evie turned and kicked over the infirmary cot she’d been sleeping on with a grunt. Not like anyone would be using it again, she would be the building’s final inhabitant.

“Fuck do I have to do to impress you people, huh?” she asked nobody in particular. It occurred to her then that she’d been procrastinating on the matter of offering an explanation to her family, if they were even watching, as to her unprovoked killing of Dani. It didn’t spur her to start talking right away however. She had to leave.

So. Evie left.

On her way out, she pondered her next move: the research station still had safe spots, but by-and-large it was a dead area. Anyone still there would be leaving soon enough. It stood to reason that the safe areas would gradually retract to form a final arena, not like the runners of a so-called game would split up the competition on purpose as the endgame approached. Where better than the town?

But Evie didn’t head for town. She’d been there before, and there was one last spot on the lap she hadn’t tried in her fruitless quest to rendezvous with Kelsey Brewer: the campground in the north. So as the grey half-light slowly brightened with the first fingers of dawn, Evie put the sunrise to her right and headed north.

[Evie McKown’s world changes again.]