Jack
The grass crunched beneath his feet, the moon above lighted his way, and the town rose up to greet the Jack of all Trades.
Unlike the others, whom he assumed - no, deduced - were still around blundering around in the forest, Jack himself had already been speeding up the trail, towards what he knew was the small village named Monyet Ketua, or, Monkey's Head in Malay. It was the perfect hiding spot - supplies were bound to be abundant, it was tucked behind some hills, and as far as he knew, none of his other classmates even knew it existed.
Why would they? They were just ordinary teenagers, milling about with their parties and outings, mundane activities he participated in only to foster his social standing in class. But it took a an extremely different breed to have researched Singapore, Malaysia, and the deserted island that lay between the two countries, purely out of intellectual interest.
A breed worthy of a Jack of all Trades.
He knew he was a cut above the others - he wasn't being arrogant, it was simple fact. After all, it was he who had wisely kept silent when they had first woken up in that hellish classroom, and it was Ian who was the one who rebelled and got shot in the arm for his pains. The trick was timing. Those government pricks would have their just desserts, it just took the right timing. Vivek hadn't grasped the timing. He had whispered to him on the classroom, to meet him outside and then they would storm the classroom together - except Jack had argued vehemently with him and then Vivek had gone on in anyway. Jack had heard the rifles, and knew that Vivek was a goner. He still had a monocule of guilt, but he pushed it away. He had tried to stop Vivek, he had really tried, but in the end it was every man for himself. If Vivek wanted to get killed, it was his business.
He checked that his weapon was still firmly grasped in his hands. When he had first zipped open his bag and found the flare gun nestled inside, he had almost laughed at the stupidity of it all. The government were idiots. Total idiots. Already they had let one slip past their grip.
Although, as much as he loathed to admit it, the kill-by-midnight rule was a pretty effective scare tactic.
And after Darren had gone crazy...well, Jack thought he could estimate a fairly accurate body count. He was no stranger to human nature - he knew his classmates would be ripping each other's throats out before long. The trick was, to stay out of the way in this nice cozy village - and work on his escape plan.
Although, there was still a chance, a very slight chance, that a psycho with a gun could come barreling into here and start shooting the place up.
Jack glanced down at his weapon once again. He needed the flare gun, but there were plenty of other ways he could kill someone, and he knew he had the ability to. The question was - could he find the heart to?
Certainly, he could visualize plenty of his other classmates bearing opposite sentiments. Ian, despite nursing a broken arm, was still a overflowing pot of teenage wrath in any circumstance. And Kevin, the cold, emotionless boy who never smiled - the perfect killing machine.
You couldn't count out the class 'rejects' either - Samuel and Yusuf. Jack had always sensed a dark instability within them, a kind of desperate longing for acceptance, a deep desire that could easily be warped into killing intent.
But what had surprised him most back at the classroom was Darren. Of all people, he had never expected Darren to be the one to draw first blood. Darren, the bookworm, the mugger, the second teacher's pet after Joey, the stickler for authority - he was the last one to be going out blowing people's brains out. But now that he had, it was sure the rest would follow suit.
But anyway, the chances that anyone would turn up here was relatively small. It was an acceptable risk. And the kill-by-midnight rule? He didn't need to worry about it. By midnight, he would be long gone.
The Jack of all Trades had never met a challenge he couldn't beat. Basketball, academics, chess and reversi - he had mastered them all. This game, this battle royale was just another day in the life. Jack had seen how Mr Tan had acted in the classroom. Who that man's sickly thin lips had twisted into a smile after Ian's arm had gotten blown off. That man had thought nothing could beat him, that no one could beat the game.
Well, the Jack of all Trades had a thing or two to say about that. When evening came, he would be swimming his way free to Malaysia, his collar long gone, the island of death and destruction far behind him. He had a plan.
He wished he could see the look on that bastard's face when he found out.
