Author's Notes: It's been a while since I've updated this, and I really don't want it to die. Busy would be and understatement and being a new writer, how to keep this going has escaped me. I'm probably going to cut down on chapter size, hopefully making it easier for me to find an stopping place for one and not feel so overwhelmed by this.
I hope someone or some people still care about this story, or maybe with this bump back to the top of the list, someone is starting the story new. Either way, enjoy it.
Chapter XI- Safety Off
An experienced shooter would have made the kill clean, a shoot into central body mass that incapacitated the target; Sam Stokes (Girl #16) had no experience at all. The shot was low and it entered the hipbone, crushing part of it. Laura dropped Miss Cooper as she sprawled to the ground. Knocked at an odd angle from the hip shot, Laura lay twisted, crying as blood leaked from her side.
"Amanda! Help me!" She screamed in agony. "Please help me!" Tears streamed down her red face, she clawed at the air for aid, letting her forehead fall to the ground.
Amanda was in the bushes, staring in horror of one of her best friends laying in a gathering pool of blood. These seconds seemed like days to her. She watched her best friend's hand clench a cluster of fallen leaves with a shaking hand as she brought her head up from the ground. Her eyes told a story of pain and terror, but Amanda couldn't go back out there, she'd be shot.
The small Sam approached her downed classmate. She knew both Amanda and Laura well enough, from classes together and from sitting not far from Amanda in band. But here on the island, she cared little for the lives of others. She needed to see home again, she needed to be with her mother and father. She needed to read a book in bead until she feel asleep, she needed to be kissed on the brow by her father, no matter how many times she told him she was too old for something like that. Raising the large pistol once more, she squinted her eyes, not wanting to see the outcome, but wanting the results so desperately. Amanda started to cry as well, unable to move due to the overwhelming situation at hand. Laura couldn't understand why her friend just sat there. She bit her lip then cried out,
"Save me! Plea-" A bullet cut her short. The 45 caliber round tore into her back, dropping her for good. Sam stood behind her, looking almost as terrified of her actions as Amanda. She knew that she needed to finish what she started, this was playing to win.
Pointing the gun now at Amanda, she would be one step closer to going home. Had Amanda been more observant of the GPS, she would have noticed a blip moving in at full speed towards the trio of girls still alive. As Amanda crouched, paralyzed, Sam pulled the trigger as Dylan bolted into her bellowing in anger.
"Shes mine!" He screamed as he wrestled with the downed girl.
He'd managed to pin her with his body, their hands and arms entangled and fought as they tried to gain control of the pistol. Something about seeing the crazed boy jolted Amanda, he'd saved her life- though not for the reasons Amanda thought he had. Knowing that staying to thank him would only be a risk, she scrambled forwards to Miss Cooper and, with a new purpose and intensity, dragged her alone from the clearing into the undergrowth. If she had noticed she had left the GPS on the ground beside her, she may have stopped to stoop it up, but she failed to realize in the heat of the situation and pressed on, trying to pull her former educator through the tangle of low-lying plants.
Back at the clearing, the struggle for control of the pistol was stuck in a deadlock, neither party able to wrest utter control and take charge of the situation. Dylan had the strength and leverage, Sam fought like a cornered animal, desperately for her life. Thinking away from the pistol, Sam kicked out, kneeing Dylan in the groin. Letting out a strained growl of pain, Dylan brought a new weapon to bear, his teeth. He bit down on Sam's fingers. Screaming out, Sam managed to hold onto the gun. Spitting up into Dylan's eyes, she managed to make him take a hand off the gun to wipe his eyes clear of the disgusting attack. She twisted to break free of his other hand, but Dylan slid his remaining hand down to her wrist and held. The sharp stop of momentum sent the pistol from her hand and onto the ground. The pair stopped their struggle as they both eyed the firearm. Dylan dove for it, but Sam pushed him farther than he needed to go. Scrambling on all fours, she went to grab the gun from under him.
Seeing his obvious disadvantage, Dylan rushed to his feet, kicked out at the gun, which went through Sam's legs and landed behind her, and ran towards the direction of his pack that he'd left safe. Turning around to grab her gun, Sam gripped it tightly and fired two shots at the retreating intervener, both going wide at the rapidly moving target. Another fleeing target, Sam had messed up again. She clung to her gun and sat beside her only victim, she would take a quick rest. Emotionally and Physically she was drained, more so than from the normal stress involved with being in the situation at hand. She would have to get her kills in a much more efficient way, she thought.
Michael thumbed the safety off again. He'd been playing with the gun almost since he pulled it out. Safety on, safety off. How the hell was he supposed to fire this thing? He'd decided against wandering around the island, a bit too risky he thought. Ha, too risky? Like somewhere on an island full of kids trying to kill each other wasn't a risk. Still, he figured the little rock cave he'd found on the coast to be safe enough. After seeing Caitlin's corpse, he definitely didn't want to be out there with some of the others. The cave was simple enough, one way in, and hidden from view from anyone walking above the shore on the main pathways. He wasn't sure exactly how he'd do this. He could just sit there, starring outside and waiting for someone to show up, shoot them or let them join. But what if no one came? What if the time ran out? Sitting in one place wouldn't fix the situation, but killing wasn't too appealing to a good natured guy like Michael. He'd toyed with the idea of suicide. He had a pistol, a quick, easy way out. No one would have to kill him, he wouldn't kill anyone else. Perhaps ending his own life on that note would spare him from making any stupid decisions later. Safety on.
He liked his cave the more he sat there. The waves looked beautiful, it would have been a great place to spend some vacation time. Taking his black rimmed glasses off and resting his head against the cave wall, he closed his eyes and just listened to the water. It was almost hard to imagine that somewhere beyond the noise of the sea where the noises of classmates screaming, shooting and dying. The thought alone choked Michael up, he felt like crying until he had no more tears left in his eyes. Drain it all out. There was no way he could take part in anything like that. He'd never liked any sort of conflict. Competitive attitude was something he lacked and he was glad. Some of the sport jerks were a bit too much for Michael, he often wondered when they stopped being like that and grew up. Then he wondered if they did. His dad was still a bit like that, a little less upfront about it, a little more restrained- but still a jock at heart. Michael never let it really get to him, but his dad's disappointment with his son's lack of interest in any sort of physical activity was a blow to his self-esteem. When he'd hit high school, his dad had hoped he might try out for the football team, the rugby team, the lacrosse team, anything. But nothing. Michael was happy just joining the production class and filming for the school's TV. No one really watched the few TVs in the main halls, but he got some enjoyment out of the filming. He'd thought about pursuing that after high school. Film school would be interesting. Maybe he could direct some of the short plays or films he'd written in his spare time. His dad wasn't too big on the idea, not the most stable career and it could be an awful waste of money. Michael's mother was a little more supportive, she smiled when he told her and told him anything would make her happy.
Michael never thought he'd miss the pressure from his parents about what to do. He'd always thought that would be the biggest issue to deal with. This new situation was just too big for him to even try to wrap his mind around it. They want us to kill each other. He thought to himself. He repeated it in his head again, then again.
"They want us to kill each other." He said aloud. His voiced vibrated loudly in the small cave. Out loud it was more ridiculous than in his head. He started to laugh at the extremity of the situation. Safety off. Other's had killed, he'd seen Caitlin with his own eyes. He'd puked and he'd felt like throwing something. How could anyone do what he saw?
He placed the barrel in his mouth. The taste was a metallic type, not pleasant at all. He looked up at where the sky would be had he not been enclosed. Safety on. He started to cry. What could he do other than this? What would possibly work out for the better? Safety off. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he decided for good. He put the gun down beside him, safety on.