Chapter X- Two Minds, One Purpose

Allison stood, shaking in terror, she knew now what fear was. It was real, it was life, it was death, it was making her sweat. Her grip on the knife was growing slippery with sweat from her palms, she didn't want to die. Why did Chris have to show up? Why did he have to come after her? Didn't he come after her enough at school? He was always picking on her, teasing her, harassing her, and Allison just took the insults, the only problem being that she took his words to heart. Allison tried telling herself that it was just Chris being a jerk, so did Amanda, but she couldn't help but feel like she was only lying to herself and that Chris' words were filled of the truth. He called her things that wouldn't have even seemed overly mean, but they hurt Allison. He had called her plain once. Plain, not so hurtful, yet when Allison thought about it, it was true. She was so ordinary it was painful, nothing special, nothing unique, no talents, not hobbies. That hurt her deep, the fact that one of his most simplistic, and one of the least rude comments he made about her was so true. Allison was never too sure why he picked on her, why he made the effort to go out of his way to make her day, among other classmate's, days terrible. She always thought that bullies were cowards- but judging buy the blood stains on his cleaver he wasn't much of a coward after all. Allison had been with Amanda this whole time, now it was time to step up and deal with her daemon alone. He had just stood there, smiling, like this was going to be fun. She would stop his smiling. She would make him stop, do what ever it took, just make him stop.

Chris charged forward with the butcher knife raised, letting a terrifying battle cry out. Allison squeaked out in terror as she ran to her right, avoiding Chris and luring him away from Natasha. Running as the low lying bushes and branches cut and brushed against her exposed shin, Allison found herself taking the time to regret wearing shorts, even as Chris closed in on her. Catching up, Chris took a mighty swing with the thick blade, missing the intended target of Allison's back. Allison heard the quick cut of air behind her and she surged forward even faster, panicked. Chris continued behind her at an equally increasing pace, moving with a blood lust that Allison could feel in the air, shaking her to the core. He was playing this game, and he was enjoying it, that freak, that selfish jerk. He wasn't caring about the fact he was taking a life, he was playing for himself.

Chopping sideways at his fleeing prey, Chris' strike failed to make contact with Allison, rather smashing into one of the green covered trees that Allison had just ran past. The thick blade lodged itself into the wood with a thump. Looking over her shoulder, Allison saw Chris ripping the blade out from the trunk with both hands, screaming in frustration. Knowing it was do or die, Allison took her leap of faith and turned around and charged and the disadvantaged classmate. Stabbing out with the blade, Allison screamed. Chris saw the attack and quickly let go of the lodged cleaver and brought his hands back to avoid being hit. Allison continued stabbing, constant jabbing motions, Chris stumbling backwards to avoid each consecutive attack. As Allison pressed the attack, Chris tried again to move backwards, but the jungle floor had it's own trap set. Chris' foot caught on a root laid across the ground and fell to his dismay right onto his back, Allison now looming over him with a knife in hand. Allison saw panic in Chris' eyes, as much as Chris saw the same in hers. Kicking out, Chris caught Allison in the stomach. Gasping and stumbling back, Allison took a wide swipe with the switchblade, more to keep Chris, who had gotten to his feet, at bay rather than to hit him. After Allison swiped Chris charged her, tackling her off her feat, hard onto the ground. Sitting up on Allison's midsection, Chris held her arm with the knife down, while he wound up and punched her in the jaw. Allison cried out in terror and pain, tears streaming out fast. Chris punched again, and again, he thought he might break her jaw. He got off her, standing over the crumpled girl, he took the knife out of her hand and spat on the ground, getting the dirt out. Chris gave a swift kick to Allison's stomach, crying out again, she rolled over in agony, her back now facing Chris.

"Don't you turn away!" Chris yelled out.

He reached down to pull her back face up, grabbing her by the shoulder. As he turned her, Allison screamed and swung up with all the force she could muster, a rock she landed beside in hand. The rock connected with the side of Chris' head, knocking him right off Allison. Sitting upright, shaking, Allison looked at Chris, the once vicious bully now laying with a gash in the side of his head, laying still. Cupping her hands over her mouth, Allison tried to slow her ragged breathing. Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out. She sat there, repeating the controlled breathing until she stop shaking.

Allison stared at Chris, wondering if he was dead. She bit her lip, trying to decide if she should check. Allison crawled over to Chris, she hesitated, what if this plays out like a movie? She goes to check is pulse and he grabs her wrist. No, that's a movie. Allison extended her fingers forward, then gently put them on his neck. She quickly pulled them back, no movement. She reached out again, this time taking the time to check the blood flow, there was a pulse. Pulling her long hair behind her head, she brought her ear in close to listen for any breathing. He was still breathing too, it was shallow breaths but that meant there was air still flowing. So unconscious, alive, but unconscious. She retrieved the knife from Chris' hand, and walked back over to Natasha. Her jaw was killing her, nothing had broken, but it was bruised and already swelling into a nasty looking sore. Deciding she didn't want to be near when Chris woke back up, she made a move to pick Natasha up. But then how will we meet back up?

Allison was torn now between the decision to defend her own personal safety, or make sure that their group would meet back up. This wasn't fair for her, another major choice? She didn't want this responsibility. She ran the possibilities of the two choices through her mind, thinking of the pros and cons, the dangers, the risks, neither seemed to great; but no option in this situation was good. The indecision was killing her, make a choice, because no one will make it for you. There was no way she could continue her time on the island making the decisions like this, she had to meet back up with Amanda.

Walking back over to Chris, she dragged him over to a tree, brought out the knife and got to work.

Ugly girl, ugly, ugly, ugly. That's all she ever heard. That was the reason she hated her class, and herself more so, the reason she felt like a broken, abandoned piece of trash. Bethan was sick and tired of it. Sick and tired of being the outcast, the but of the jokes, the last pick, the one nobody gave a shit about. There was only one, Miranda, who ever gave her the time of day. But Bethan knew it was only because she was also looked down on, judged by appearance, that she was force to be with Bethan. Bethan knew that Miranda would have rather be with the other girls, and knew that Bethan knew it. It was the lack of real friendship that always kept them from sharing anything, from actually doing anything together apart from eating lunch together.

She sat on the edge of the cliff, contemplating just giving up. For once in her life she felt her reason for ending it, reasons for just saying goodbye were justified. The last two years she'd felt like killing herself, contemplated the ways, the note, but she always told herself to just overlook the current situation and push on, to the great unknown of the future. The only problem for her was that she knew her future. She knew the teasing, the name calling, the seclusion would all take place tomorrow, and the day after. Her parents had supported her when ever she did anything, and she loved to paint. Bethan was talented, her paintings were magnificent, her marks in art were exceptional and she felt free to express herself when she painted. Her sorrow, her pain, and her soul went into her pieces of art. Her parents loved her, their love had kept her from exiting the world. But now, in this situation, this new hell, maybe suicide was the right thing to do. She felt like painting. She felt more than ever that she could paint her feelings on the canvas. This new situation where appearance meant nothing, just how well you could stay alive, would maybe benefit her. She'd faced her daemons and she'd won. Her painting would be different from the rest. For once she felt like she was on top, that she held the advantage of being near death.

She could kill the rest of the class and go home, that would be wrong though. They'd teased her, but did that justify their deaths? Was it the right thing? Since when did the right thing really even apply to her. No one did the right thing to her. No one in this class took the time to be nice to her, why should she be the exclusive owner of the right thing? Maybe revenge was the right thing. Gandhi may have said an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, but justice is blind. Bethan would serve her justice and take an eye for the eye her classmates had taken from her. Rising from the cliff edge, Bethan took out her assigned weapon, no longer uncaring for it, as she had been at first glance. This chainsaw, a small branch cutter, but a devastating weapon none the less would be her new brush to paint destruction on the canvas of her tormentors.

Moving through the forest as fast as possible, Amanda and Laura were making good time. Sweating profusely, from the exertion and the humidity of the island. Amanda wasn't quite as in shape as Laura and through rigged breaths asked to bring the pace down to a walk for a few minutes.

"As long as we don't stop." Laura responded.

"Right," Amanda panted, "We'll keep moving."

The two walked along, still not talking to each other, even with the ample opportunity provided by the slower pace. Amanda glanced over to Laura, then to the ground.

"Laura?" Amanda asked quietly.

"Yeah?" Laura said, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead.

"Thanks," Amanda said, "Thanks for taking charge back there, I panicked."

Laura started to laugh, "You don't have to be the leader here, we're all in this together."

"Yeah, I know," Amanda began, "it's just, you kept your cool so much better than I did. I balled by eyes out."

"You just saw Natasha have her eye popped." Laura said, Amanda cringed, "It's not exactly a terrible thing to do."

"I guess you're right."

"I am, don't sweat it." Laura joked, "Especially not like we are in this damn heat."

"True, well, judging by the map, I doubt we've got much left to go." Amanda said eagerly.

"I think you're right. Let's speed it up again?" Laura asked.

"Sure." Amanda said, ready for another run towards their goal.

The two continued on, running in the heat, sweating and staying focused. The faster they found Miss Cooper, the faster they got back to Natasha and Allison. The heat was ridiculous, after the whole global warming problem, they'd had some hot summers back home, but this was something else, the humidity was getting to them, tiring them even quicker.

The finally saw the building where they'd come out of last night. It was a dull grey colour and it stuck out in the lush wilderness of green. Miss Cooper lay in front of the building, far enough out to be clear of the dangerzone that kept the starting building safe for rebels. The two girls could see she was breathing. Sneaking cautiously through the bush to get closer, the girls looked at each other; Laura motioned with her fingers for the both of them to scan the area to see if they could catch a glimpse of anyone waiting in ambush. They crouched and peered around for a solid two minutes. Amanda checked her GPS locater as well, it showed three blips in their area, herself and Laura, and their teacher just ahead. Shrugging, Amanda whispered to her companion.

"Just because we didn't see anyone on the GPS, we shouldn't assume there's no one out there, we don't know how well this works." Laura nodded in agreement. "Let's move quick and drag her body and her pack back here as fast as possible."

"3." Laura started.

"2." Amanda continued.

"1!" They both whispered loudly as they broke out into a run for their downed teacher.

Putting their hands underneath the arms of Miss Cooper, the pair started to drag her, Laura grabbing the pack with her free hand. Just as they started to drag her, Amanda noticed something flashing in her hand. The GPS was indicating a new blip moving in from the opposite direction they had headed, suddenly another one came in from their starting side. Dylan had assumed Amanda wouldn't have been looking at the GPS, as she'd neglected it for so much of her time on the island, and he'd moved in much closer.

"There's someone coming for us and someone waiting for us!" Amanda shouted as they dragged their unconscious teacher.

"Turn then!" Laura exclaimed, shifting their movement to the side, going in between the mystery others. Attracted by the shouts, the new student picked up their pace, the blip traveling fast across the screen. As the girls were about to close the distance of barren land into the bush, a shot rang out from the newcomer. The bullet lodged itself into the ground beside the teacher's legs. Letting out a shriek, Amanda dropped Miss Cooper's arm and ran the final stretch into cover. Laura continued her drag, terrified. With a steadied aim, the unknown shooter fired again, aiming straight at Laura.