Battle Royale-Maine
Chapter 01-Matinicus Island
May 1, 1975
Tommy Ross groaned. He hadn't felt this bad since the time he and some of his friends had copped themselves a gallon of Thunderbird and finished it off, down in the family rec room when his folks had been gone for the night. What the hell happened? Where am I? Reluctantly, his eyes opened.
He was seated in a folding chair, the kind with a desk attached to it. His head had been resting on the desk. Around him, he could see and hear his classmates, moaning and retching as consciousness returned.
"Hey-what the hell?"
"Where are we?"
"What's going on?"
He felt something itching on his neck, and automatically brought up his hand to scratch it. To his surprise, he found that he was wearing a strange metal collar around his neck. He looked to left and right, and saw that all of his classmates were wearing the same sort of collars.
"Good morning, all!" The voice was familiar, and he looked up to the front of the room. Standing there, flanked by a couple of Maine State Police troopers with CAR-15 carbines, was Miss Desjardin, the perky girl's phys-ed teacher. Tommy and his friends had always privately considered her one of the hottest older babes they'd ever seen, but at the moment, he could not see her as an attractive woman. All he felt was a sickening fear. He had a terrible suspicion about the situation that he and his classmates were in.
"I do hope you're all feeling bright-eyed and bushy-tailed!" carolled Miss Desjardin. "We've got a very exciting few days planned for you, and it'd be best to wipe the cobwebs out of your heads!"
That reminded Tommy-how did they get there in the first place? The last thing he remembered was some sort of state-sponsored inoculation program; the whole school had been getting shots. He had gone on into the nurse's office, after waiting in line-and the last thing he remembered was the needle going in. Had that been how-?
People were definitely recovering, Tommy saw. Everybody was awake, and staring at Miss Desjardin like she was a ghost. He sat back and waited for developments, and sure enough, the reigning Queen Bee (which, in Tommy's mind, stood appropriately enough, for "bitch,") Chris Hargensen, stood up and shouted: "What is this and why are we here?"
Miss Desjardin gave Chris a warm smile. "Why, darling, I thought that you could figure it out for yourselves! You lucky children have been selected for the Program this year!"
The Program. Tommy felt like ice had been put down his back. Every year, every state randomly selected one class of ninth-grade students, put them in some isolated location, and they were forced to fight each other until only one survivor remained. The name of the Program had cut through the murmuring, and now everybody was sitting there in terrified silence.
Chris Hargensen was the first to recover. She stood up and screamed: "You can't do this to me! You can't! My father's a lawyer, and…" She started toward Miss Desjardin, and the troopers raised their carbines and pointed them at her.
"If you don't shut the fuck up and sit down, you spoiled, snotty little whore, you won't have to-these men will shoot you right down where you stand!" Miss Desjardin' voice was filled with gloating anticipation. "I might just have them do it anyway. God knows, you have it coming if anybody does!"
Chris was spoiled and cruel and unpleasant, but she was far from stupid. She sat down quickly, blanching as though she was seasick. Someone-Tommy couldn't tell who-was crying quietly. Miss Desjardin went on, as though it were an ordinary day at school: "For your information, we are on Matinicus Island. The whole island's been evacuated; the local people were happy to loan their homes for the use of the Program. We have a training video for you to watch, so watch it carefully. Watch it as though your lives depend on this information." She smiled happily. "Because they do!"
A screen was lowered by one of the troopers, and the lights went off. A light hit the screen, and then resolved into a picture of a perky girl wearing a sort of military uniform. "Hello!" chirped the girl. "So good to see you all here! Shall I explain the situation?" Not waiting to receive approval, the girl turned to an animated map. "This is the island you are on. It is called Matinicus Island, and is about twenty-five kilometers off the Maine coast. It's much too far to swim, and the water's very cold this time of year. So don't try anything stupid!" She gave them all a gleaming smile.
Tommy Ross knew where Matinicus Island was. He knew that it was a good long way from the mainland. Regretfully, he abandoned his half-formed plan to swim for it.
"In any case," the girl went on, "the waters around here are patrolled, and those collars you're wearing can be tracked. If we catch you in the water-BOOM!" She giggled. "Oh, did I forget to mention it? The collars are rigged with plastique explosive. If someone unauthorized-like, say, one of you-tries to remove the collar, it goes off! It has other uses, too!" All of a sudden, she was replaced by a map of the island, divided into squares by lines. "The whole island's been divided into zones, ranging from A-1, up in the northwesternmost corner, down to H-6, down in the southeast. Every morning, noon, evening and midnight, we'll be randomly selecting 'danger zones.' Anybody in one of those zones has five minutes after the announcement to evacuate the zone. Afterwards-BOOM!" The map disappeared, and the girl was back. "Won't that be fun?"
"Fun-as in funeral." Tommy couldn't see who had said it, but he'd have bet it was George Dawson. George had always been kind of the class clown.
On the screen, the girl had produced a sports bag. "Every one of you will be issued a bag, just like this one. The bags contain a supply of food, and water-the water mains have been shut off, as have the electrical supplies, for the duration of the Program. You will also find something else. Most of you will get a weapon-some of you will get a surprise. As for who gets what-that's up to random chance. Let's see what's in this bag!" She reached in, like Jack Horner with a pie, and pulled out a pistol. "The weapons range from guns, like this one, to knives, to other things. As for the surprises-those could be anything!"
Tommy felt sick to his stomach. Like everybody else, he knew all about the Program; it was one of the most popular television shows on the air. However, it had always been something far away-something that happened to other people. Finding himself, and his friends, in it was every nightmare he had ever had come to life, times ten.
On the screen, the girl was winding up her instructions. "If nobody is killed in twenty-four hours, everybody's collar gets set off at once! That would make me very sad. You wouldn't want to make me sad, would you?" She twisted her mouth down in a satiric moue for a second, before returning to her perky, cheerful style. Tommy found that he was quite able to control his sympathy for her. If you're so damn enthusiastic about this filthy game, bitch, put on a collar, come out, and play! he thought savagely.
The film was winding up. "We'll be announcing the danger zones, and who's been killed, every morning at nine, noon, evening at five, and midnight. Keep alert, and good luck to all of you!" With that, the film came to an end, and the lights came back on.
Miss Desjardin looked around. "Oh, dear, it looks like a couple of our contestants didn't want to play! They sneaked out during the film! I guess they thought they might be able to get away!" A sharp crack sounded, then, a few seconds later, another one. "I guess they were wrong!"
Several Maine State Police troopers hauled a couple of bleeding, slumped bodies into the room, dumping them unceremoniously on the floor in front of everybody. Tommy felt his stomach turn over. Miss Desjardin cooed: "Oh, look, it's Billy deLois and Henry Trennant! I guess they've cut class for the last time ever! Oh, well-no big loss!" She smiled warmly. "That does mean that the odds between boys and girls are even now! I should mention, boys, that girls can and do win this game, so don't discount your female classmates." Suddenly, there was a grim undertone in her voice. "This game is all about equality. Anybody can win. Anybody-no matter who their father is, no matter who they are-can be picked to play."
She picked up a bag. "So-that's about it. We're in the town hall here, and after the last of you leave, we'll be leaving too-we're going to be monitoring you, but from offshore. You can use any of the buildings, but don't get too comfortable there-you might miss a danger zone warning, and that would be just too bad, now wouldn't it? You'll leave at two-minute intervals. Good luck—and do enjoy yourselves!"
(Author's Note: Fans of Battle Royale and Carrie will note that I am taking liberties with both source texts. The relationships between characters as presented here are based on the book, which is set a few years after the year in which this story is set. I know that the relationship picture would have changed, but I am going with the ones I found in the book. Miss Desjardin was also in her first year of teaching in the 1978-1979 school year, but I thought it would be a cool idea to bring her in early, since she does play a pivotal role in the original book. As for Battle Royale-I am working from the book, movie and manga, depending on what works best.)