Battle Royale, Maine---Chapter 14
By Technomad
Queen's Move
Chris Hargensen
After a few minutes, Chris found herself following Dale and Jeanne out of the woods, into an open area. Chris was nervous; she knew that Dale's MAC-10 was not necessarily the only submachine gun out there, and for all she knew to the contrary---she was by no means an avid follower of the Program, a fact she now bitterly regretted---someone or other had been issued with something long-ranged. Out in the open, she felt naked. She wondered if that would go away once she had won and was back in Chamberlain. Or will I always be antsy when I'm out away from cover?
Jeanne noticed how twitchy she was. The other girl reached out and patted Chris' shoulder. "Hey, don't worry. It's cool. Look---" she held out the collar detector---"there's nobody near but us." Chris could see the three of them, clustered together in the center of the little screen, and no others anywhere close by. She relaxed slightly. Even so, she found herself reflexively scanning their surroundings---she wasn't 100% sure that the scanner worked perfectly. It would be just like the sadistic bastards to gimmick that gadget so that someone who put too much faith in it would end up dead at the hands of the one person whose collar doesn't show up on it! It was something that she'd have thought was hilariously funny---before she got sucked into the Program. Even now, the thought of the expression on the face of someone like Carrie White or Irma Swope if they were counting on the collar detector, only to find that Chris' collar didn't register, brought a twisted smile to her face.
I'm a pitcher in these things, never a catcher! She managed to control her expression just as Dale turned toward her. "Come on, Chris," he said, oblivious to her thoughts. "There's a bunch of us holed up at the church. We got together and decided to team up right after we were let out."
Curious, Chris followed in his wake. She hadn't known there was a church on Matinicus; the place seemed to be too small for one. Sure enough, as they turned a corner, there was a large white frame church. Dale stopped and held up his hand. "Hey, it's us! We're back---and we brought someone with us!" Chris approved completely---if she'd forted up with a bunch of her "friends," and gone outside, she'd definitely want to make sure they knew she was friendly when she came back.
As Chris, Jeanne and Dale walked toward the church, Chris wondered how long this cozy little arrangement could or would last. Even if they avoided a player---which they hadn't, she thought gleefully---sooner or later, the iron logic of the Program would force them to turn on each other. Only one could survive, and she fully intended that "one" to be her, Christine Hargensen. After all, I deserve it! I'm the prettiest girl in my class, all the boys want me and even grown men drool over me! Why should some lesser person get to live on when I die?
Dale opened the front door and they stepped into the sanctuary. Chris looked around curiously. Rachel Spies was apparently the person on guard at the door; she was holding what Chris recognized as a Japanese katana. She made a mental note. When she got the chance, she planned to appropriate that sword. While she had been well-served by her firearms, she was aware that a blade, unlike a gun, did not run out of ammunition or direct its vengeance a country mile away from the enemy.
Jessica Upshaw was sitting by a window, watching outside for enemies. Chris saw a pistol stuck through her waistband. At another window, Josie Vreck watched in another direction. He didn't appear to be armed, but Chris knew better than to take that at face value. By this time, checking for weapons was a reflex, just like being nervous when out in the open.
Chris heard sounds from above, and barely refrained from yanking out her revolver as Norma Watson came in. She had apparently been up on the belfry, and had a pair of binoculars slung around her neck. Chris figured that the binoculars might have been a "surprise," unless Norma had appropriated them somewhere along the way.
Don Farnham came up from the lower level, where he had apparently been looking around. His eyes widened when he saw Chris. "Hi, Chris! Glad to see you're still alive!"
At this, the others noticed Chris' entrance for the first time. She noted that the others' reaction wasn't precisely welcoming. "Uh---hi, everybody. I ran into Dale here, and he said I could come along. Is that all right?" She didn't miss the glances people exchanged.
Norma Watson finally spoke. "Only if you're over being a spherical bitch, Christine." Her voice was hard and cold. "And I mean that."
"A 'spherical bitch?'" Chris didn't understand what her classmate was driving at.
"A 'spherical bitch' is a bitch any way you look at her, Christine. Ever since I've known you, you've been a nasty piece of work. Matter of fact, I'm surprised that you aren't playing. I'd have thought you'd be well up on the scoreboard by now."
Norma had hit the nail on the head, but Chris had years of experience conning people. "Norma! How can you say such a thing? I thought we were friends!" She teared up, and put a hitch into her voice. "First I wake up to find myself in this awful nightmare, and then I find that people hate me…" She sniffled and lowered her face, covering it with one hand. "Guys try to rape me or kill me, and even other girls---I can't trust anybody!" She let out an anguished-sounding howl, and burst out sobbing.
As she'd expected, her act fooled the guys---Dale came over and awkwardly patted her shoulder, and Don led her over to a pew, where she sat, shaking with simulated sobs. When she looked up, she noticed that the girls still looked skeptical, but their postures and expressions showed that they had softened their stance slightly. "Don't cry, Chris," Dale pleaded. "Look---we're all in an awful mess, but if we stay cool, trust each other and work together, I'm sure we can find a way out of this!"
Chris couldn't believe that anybody could be so naïve. The Program had been in place longer than she, or her parents, had been alive, and in all that time, nobody had ever escaped. She would much rather have never been in that situation, but she had coldly accepted that the only way off Matinicus Island lay over the dead bodies of her classmates. However, she was quite willing to play along---she'd played "good little girl" all her life for her parents and the other adult authorities; this was just a new role.
"You're right, Dale," Chris sniffled, "we've got to work together. There are actually people out there playing!" She put on a horrified expression. "Can you believe it? Can you believe that there are people in our class who'd kill their classmates?" She shuddered theatrically, making sure that her breasts jiggled---nothing like that to distract male attention, after all. "I thought I knew these people!"
Rachel cleared her throat. "You know---I wouldn't be a bit surprised to find that Carrie White's a player. If she got issued something good---most of us didn't---she could carve quite a swathe." Rachel's voice went grim. "And she's got some damn good reasons to hate all of us, doesn't she?"
"Really?" Dale looked slightly incredulous. "I know she's not the most popular kid in the school, but hate us? Isn't that a little extreme?"
Wiping her face, Chris decided that Dale was going to be her first target when she made her move. Not just for that lovely, lovely MAC-10, but because in her view, he was much too stupid to live. Removing him from the breeding pool would only improve it.
Jessica sighed. "You don't understand, Dale. You weren't there for a lot of the worst of it. Also, you're guys, and guys do things differently---I should know, I have three brothers." She squared her shoulders, as though she was about to do a heavy job of work. "Guys might tease her a little, but they had their own things to do, and guys usually---I emphasize usually---observe some unwritten limits, if only because they know that going too far can get them their asses kicked." She smiled bitterly. "Girls are a lot nastier in a lot of ways---and Chris, here, would know all about that, wouldn't you, dear?" All of a sudden Jessica's pistol was in her hands, aimed right between Chris' startled eyes. "You were the ringleader in a lot of nastiness, weren't you?"
Chris' mind reeled with shock. She wasn't stupid, though, and knew how she could fight back effectively. "Oh? You're not exactly innocent yourself, are you, Jessica Upshaw? I remember a lot of the stuff you've done!" As the others stared, wide-eyed, Chris continued: "Like the time you set Henry Stampel up! You said you'd go out on a date with him, but when he showed up at your place, you told him that he had to be an idiot to think he had a chance with you, and then you had your brothers run him off!"
Jessica stepped back, shock in her face, as both of the boys started giving her very hard looks. "Is this true?" asked Dale, his hand on the butt of his MAC-10. "Did you do that?"
Jessica turned pale. "Yes---yes, I did. I'm not claiming that my hands are clean. But Chris here was always in on the worst stuff!"
"Look," Chris spoke up. "None of us here are angels. I'm sure there are people who hate every one of us. But we don't deserve this, damn it!" As she spoke, she felt a little shocked to find that she meant every word of it. "I'll admit I did some rotten things! I did things I shouldn't have! But I don't deserve to die for it!" She looked around the room challengingly. "Who here has absolutely clean hands? Who can claim they never did anything they're not really proud of?" Silence met her challenge, as she had known it would. If anybody had tried to claim innocence, she knew more than enough about them to deflate them in a hurry. Dale and Don had both been involved in a wave of vandalism, and had joy-ridden several cars without their owners' consent, or licenses. As for the girls---none of them had refrained from tormenting Carrie, and Norma, at least, had always been right behind Chris, encouraging her to go farther and farther humiliating one of the people that she and her friends called "Mortimer Snerds."
Rachel finally broke the silence. "Okay. You have a point. Right now, the thing we have to do is to keep our cool. What happened at home doesn't matter. You can stay, Chris."
Chris covered her face with her hands and wept aloud. Behind her hands, her face twisted into an evil smile. Come into our parlor, Madame Spider, said the flies…