January 16th 13:27

Leo Davison (Boy #4) lay spread-eagled on the double bed gazing up at the ceiling, taking deep breaths as he began to sob quietly, without fear of being overheard. After he had attacked Belle Orbison (Girl #11) and left her body lying face down in the mud, he'd abandoned his plan to coerce Anne-Marie Hunt (Girl #6) and Sebastian Hall (Boy #7) into giving him a gun, and fled the scene, taking refuge in the main residential area of the island, where around three dozen houses had been built at fairly irregular intervals. The fear of being killed wasn't completely eating away at him, as it was other 'contestants', but he was frightened enough to be making stupid rash decisions, and not thinking them through. The house which he had broken into was part of a street, and he'd chosen it completely at random, since there was no point guessing which houses were likely to be occupied. Not that he bothered to try and investigate before he barged in. In fact, staying here for too long could well be fatal, and it hadn't really been wise of Leo to enter at all. Aside from the fact that he'd had to force the back door open (leaving one of the hinges broken and hence Leo hadn't been able to fully close it, thereby making entry obvious to anyone who had a mind to enter), Leo would hardly be able to 'pretend no-one was home'. His fingerprints were literally all over this (the house). Plus, after two murders- it didn't matter how many euphemisms he thought of, that was what they were- Leo still only had Jonathan Cray (Boy #3)'s carving knife, so going against someone with a gun would prove somewhat redundant, but right now Leo didn't care about that.

I didn't mean to kill her.

He sat up sharply, and curled himself up, covering the bed's duvet with mud and…blood. He was filthy. His entire body, head to toe, was plastered with gunk which he hadn't yet bothered to wash off. His hair, usually a dark blonde, was now closer to black, and it was only just beginning to peel unstuck from his head, having been so wet.

He had cursed himself a dozen times. How could he possibly have fallen asleep? In the pouring rain, for fuck's sake? Of course, the real reason was that he had spent the entire night before last (was it really only two nights ago?) playing World of Warcraft. This was a fairly common occurrence on weekends, and in recent months, he'd started regularly logging in for the sole purpose of helping a young girl advance her character, a level 18 paladin. She had explained to Leo that she was attempting to conquer her addiction to sleeping pills, which meant that she would often stay up late into the night, until her body no longer depended on them…at least that was the theory. That's right, it was Belle, and now she was…

Why did I have to fall asleep?! It's not fair…

For all he knew, Belle could have been his saviour. She had woken him up, and Leo had repaid her by stabbing her in the back. Literally and metaphorically. She had made the mistake of shaking Leo in order to rouse him, but Leo just couldn't stand being physically touched, unless he initiated it. He had completely panicked, and if he'd stopped to think, he would have realised then that Belle meant him no harm. The truth was, however, that even if Leo hadn't been slightly confused, the girl would probably have ended up dead by his hand anyway, sooner or later. Earlier on in the game, Leo had been totally unable to handle Jonathan Cray's presence, yet he'd contradicted himself by being angry when Jonathan had tried to abandon him. Hell, this wasn't Jonathan's fault, since he'd tried to convince Leo to come with him, and join up with Steven Wilkinson (Boy #21). Jonathan and Belle. They were two innocent people who had been betrayed while showing Leo nothing but could be expected of them.

Shit! Why?! Why me, why?!

Leo, it had to be said, wasn't as concerned for his victims as he should have been. He'd never had a strong sense of empathy, but this could have made him highly suitable for this game. Unfortunately, if he was ever going to survive – escape was not an option- then he'd probably not be able to do it on sheer luck. His poor social skills meant that he'd find it hard to win over anyone's trust before he finished them off: Belle and Jonathan had been, putting it harshly, simply in the wrong place, next to the wrong person. Jonathan Cray may have been a bit of a loser, but what Leo didn't realise was that his classmates appreciated that Jonathan may not have been anything special, but that had never mattered to most of them; he'd been a reluctant class clown. If anyone found out that Leo had killed a more-or-less good person, a friend, no less, then they'd come down on him like a ton of bricks. This went double for Belle Orbison, who as well as being quite sweet and quirky, also happened to have been a pretty young girl. One of the only girls who spoke to Leo.

Leo Davison was constantly unaware of how different he was. Most of the time, he never attempted to talk to any of his classmates, let alone get to know them. His only real friends in the class were Samuel Rothschild (Boy #17), Bryan Smith (Boy #18), Belle via WoW, and Jonathan, sometimes. Leo had an odd obsession with sci-fi, and politics, and often had repeated, one-sided conversations with Sam and Brian, thinking that they were totally happy with not getting a word in edgeways. He opposed the Party line religiously, and had disturbed several members of the class when, during a history class, he had stood up and randomly sworn his allegiance to Winston Churchill, which could well have landed him in prison if he was older. People like Steven Wilkinson (Boy #21) acted like that, so Leo didn't see anything wrong. He often had trouble realising when a person was being sarcastic or ironic. One thing he prided himself on, though, was the fact that whatever others said about him, he truly didn't care, as opposed to Jonathan Cray. This was the basic flaw in their 'friendship'.

Leo wasn't crying anymore. It finally occurred to him that he wasn't safe here, in this state, and so stood up and made his way down the landing to the bathroom, to clean himself up, after which he planned to leave the area altogether. Actually, he rarely displayed strong emotion at all, and he was surprised to find that crying seemed to have washed away his troubles slightly. He'd make his plans momentarily.

In the small, tiled bathroom, the sink and bath were still in place, and the owner apparently kept a variety of shampoos, conditioners, and body lotions all stacked up on the side of the bath. Leo regarded himself in the mirror above the chipped enamel sink, and recoiled in shock, seeing that his fringe was parted to the left. He quickly corrected it, sighing in relief.

Now then, here's a sound I've missed: good old-fashioned running…

No water came out of the cold tap. Leo turned it as far as it would go, but there was nothing. He tried the hot tap, and the ones on the bath. No luck. Irrationally, he began to get agitated. Rushing downstairs, he tried the kitchen sink. It was official: the house was dry.

Now what?

He bolted back upstairs, taking the steps three at a time. Foolishly, he'd left his daypack in the bedroom, and so would have been left at best mapless and compassless, with no food if he'd been forced to flee. He'd have to use some of his supplied water, and sparingly. Fortunately, he'd been lugging Jonathan's bottles around with him, but still…and he'd not thought of taking Belle's. At the time, he'd rooted through her bag quickly, looking for her weapon before realising that the umbrella she carried must have been it. He'd not thought he might need the water.

There's still another possibility.

Yes, Leo really didn't want to waste fresh, spring water washing his face, but it seemed to be the only option. He couldn't just walk about the island covered in blood; he'd be sniffed out if nothing else. Suddenly, he realised that there may just be another source of the liquid he was beginning to crave. The toilet could be his saviour. He wandered back into the bathroom and looked down at the chipped, green toilet. Pulling up the lid (he hadn't used it yet) he saw that it was bone dry.

Oh well.

But then there was the cistern. It hadn't occurred to him to check until he'd turned to go, but as he lifted the lid, he saw that there was a glimmering pool of water, just waiting to be used. Leo didn't give a damn why it hadn't been flushed away, or care about how long it had been standing. With a heavy heart, he rollerd up his sleeves, and plunged his hands in, for the entire world a child, forced to take a bath. He didn't immediately begin to wipe away the grime, having captured movement out the corner of his eye. The bathroom window faced out onto the street and was, unsurprisingly, constructed from frosted glass, so he couldn't make out the figure who had startled him. Whoever it was had to be an idiot, walking around in full view like that, and from the slight glimpse he'd had, Leo would have hazarded a guess that it had been a boy. He hadn't left any lights on, and it was the middle of the day anyway, but he ducked down instinctively, praying that he hadn't been noticed, and panting in an exhilarated manner.

That's all I need right now, more blood on my hands. Then again, he thought, taking a glance at the already mucky hallway, and the sink, this could actually be convenient.

01:35

After parting from Olivia Thompson (Girl #17), Rachel Underwood (Girl #18) and Zoe Wakefield (Girl #19) started to head south, towards the source of the flames. Rachel trudged weakly alongside Zoe, semi-regretting the decision that she had made. The more she thought it over, the more likely it seemed to her that she was falling into a trap. She stole a look to her right, seeing the determined, impassioned, stroppy face of the cheerleader-esque girl whose judgement she had trusted over that of the smartest girl in the class…well, Rachel thought Olivia was the cleverest; but some others may just be lazier students. Nicole Nicholson (Girl #10) - hide it though she might- certainly had a higher I.Q., and Rachel just hoped that Olivia managed to avoid that bitch. Actually, the divide in the group wasn't just causing Rachel to feel slightly conflicted; it was tearing her apart.

'Zoe? She'll be alright, won't she?' Rachel stopped walking, to catch her breath if nothing else. Being terrified really took the energy from her, and she had broken into a cold sweat, even though it was the middle of winter. Plus, the two girls had been pacing through the dense forest only for a few minutes, but the area was quite hilly. The fire was, evidently, a greater distance away than it had appeared, but it was further east, where the fields were more low-lying. Zoe took the chance to zip open her bag, and aggressively snap open a bottle of Evian's finest, despite the fact that she'd already opened one. She took a long swig before she replied. Rachel looked at her imploringly, as though Zoe could somehow answer her question.

'Look,' Zoe took an impatient breath, 'she said that she'd come and join us when we sent a smoke signal. Besides, she's like a genius, so she'll be okay…anyway, she didn't want to come with us.'

Rachel paused before responding. Eventually, she said: 'You don't believe her, do you? About coming and finding us, I mean.' Her dark face turned solemn and sorrowful. Zoe began to get annoyed.

'Look, Rachel, I'm pissed off with her. You saw the look on her face when she 'agreed' to that deal. She was lying, and she's out for herself. Don't look at me like that; I'm the victim here, not her.' Zoe now looked on the verge of tears. 'I'm scared, Rachel, and she's abandoned me!'

'But I haven't.'

Rachel's soft, caring statement was so unexpected that Zoe actually opened her mouth in surprise. She had automatically assumed that she was the leader here, not Rachel. Zoe was the defendant, the mother figure. Rachel needed to be taken care of…didn't she? Maybe this was true, but it was in that moment that a wave of appreciation suddenly swept over Zoe. She smiled warmly. 'Thanks. I know; we're in this together aren't we? I'm sorry. Again.'

Rachel fought back the girly tears of emotion and the desire to grab Zoe and grip her tightly for comfort, and lifted her hatchet. She looked at it in a mixture of loathing and thoughtfulness. 'I should have given her this, though. We've got the gun, and she has that spade.'

Zoe felt slightly guilty. The thought of trading weapons had crossed her mind, too. However, she'd just been so annoyed that she hadn't cared about Olivia's safety at the time. She tried to dispel Rachel's obvious upset, and smiled sympathetically. 'She'll be fine! Trust me! Now, let's get going: aren't you excited to know who's calling to us?!'

Rachel found Zoe's mood swing a little puzzling, but did her best to beam at her. In answer to Zoe's rhetorical question, the answer was yes, actually. Rachel had to admit that she'd been thinking obsessively about who it would be.

Someone confident and popular, probably. They'd have to be, to trust their classmates so much. Unless, of course, it's someone else…

Thoughts of Peter Mortimer setting fire to a building, dancing around it, and firing at anyone who came close came vividly to mind. But…somehow, she didn't care anymore. As she gazed up at the rising smoke, which was, ominously, becoming darker and thicker, a sense of hopelessness filled her up. She guessed that she was never returning home. It had, in fact, become clear to her several years ago that she would never see her family again. Prior to this game, she probably would have said, in a blasé manner, that that wouldn't have bothered her. Her mother, she knew, though the world of her, but she had been happier when it had just been the two of them at home (Rachel never knew her father). After her mother's re-marriage, she'd gained a stepfather, who she liked, but resented strongly. Father figures were so overrated. Her mother could have done better than a man with three kids, anyway. So the atmosphere in the home was thick, to say the least, at times. Rachel used to dread going home from school to find her mum in tears after an argument with her stepchildren; consoling her was particularly difficult, knowing that money would go missing, and binge drinking would occur again and again. Not from Rachel, though. In her own eyes, she'd always been half-proud of the fact that she was such a doormat. She realised that, unlike in school, she was the most worthy child. It gave her a slight fuzzy feeling to think of all attention in the household being diverted to her, even though it would be for the wrong reasons.

Zoe raised an eyebrow, for beneath her misery, a satisfied smirk had appeared on Rachel's lips. She'd been quite carried away by her thoughts, and several seconds had gone by with no words between the two girls. Though her smile disappeared as soon as she noticed Zoe's offended glare.

'What are you smiling at, you idiot?' The tone was only half-joking. A sense of shame engulfed Rachel, as an image of her mother hysterically screaming for her came to mind, ten times as vivid and terrible of the vision she'd just had of Peter.

'Nothing,' she abruptly responded, 'I just…' She couldn't think of anything convincing to put at the end of here sentence, so she shrugged and hastened to change the subject. 'So…d'you want to head on? It looks like rain.'

Zoe cast her eyes at the sky. It was fairly grey, but no more than it had been. She nodded her head in response to Rachel, and stood up from the overgrown oak root which she had been sitting on, her feet crunching on the frosty remains of the leaves that had fallen from the braches some time ago. In habit, she raised her lupara and took a furtive glance around her. Inclining her head in the direction of the rising smoke, she started striding across the wood. Rachel automatically followed her, and kept quiet.

They walked for a few minutes before the woodland began to get thicker. Ahead of them the main road that ran around the southern half of the island came into view, and it forked off into a narrower lane, which presumably serviced the northern, mountainous region. Of course, no vehicles were currently using it. The girls reached the borderline and in the absence of trees, could get a clearer idea of their location. Being out in the open was dangerous, but at least they could retreat into the woods if attacked.

'Okay…' Zoe passed over the lupara to a shocked-looking Rachel, who took it nonetheless. This was in order to fumble around in her pack. 'Keep sharp, Rachel!' she hissed, as the taller girl held the gun as a dozy, awkward fashion. Zoe pulled out the map. She scanned it, pointing to various areas, and mumbling to herself. Then she spoke aloud: 'There's a little section of houses down there,' she announced, pointing left in the direction of the smoke. 'That must be where the fire's coming from.'

So someone set fire to a house?

That didn't sound particularly encouraging. Nonetheless, Rachel shrugged, and quickly handed the sawn-off back to Zoe. 'Must only be less than half a mile away.'

'So…here we go.'

'Yeah, I think I just saw a flicker of orange.' The land was flatter here, and it must surely only be over the next couple of mounds before they reached their destination. The two broke into a jog.

'Hey, Rachel, are there any boys in out class who you like?' Zoe said it so suddenly, and it was such an unexpected question that Rachel stopped dead in her tracks, as Zoe slowed down to a gentle stop a few metres from her. 'I just wanted to ask you, in case…I don't know…you want to find him and tell him you like him, or something.' Zoe now looked slightly embarrassed, as though she regretted asking the question. Rachel smiled sadly; perhaps Zoe was being a bit crass, but she was touched that her friend obviously cared so much about her.

'Nah, there's nobody. Most of the lads in our class are really annoying.' Rachel paused before asking a question which she didn't really want to. 'Do you like anyone?'

Zoe Wakefield had a…it wasn't exactly a reputation, but she'd been out with several guys in their class alone. Joshua Johnson (Boy # 11, a complete dick), Carl Mitchell (Boy #14, who was actually really nice; Zoe could have done a lot worse) and Callum Harrison (Boy #8, fit- and doesn't he know it- oh wait…he's dead now.) had all been linked to her at some point. Zoe's 'feller troubles' could be tiring to say the least, and Rachel didn't particularly want to traipse about the island like some idiot.

'Well,' Zoe replied, 'I think I'd go out with Carl again, if we weren't here….' She paused, and without warning, suddenly burst into tears. She covered her face in her hands, and sobbed into her palms (she'd dropped the gun). As her shoulders began shaking, Rachel leaned closer to her and put an arm around Zoe's shoulder.

'Oh, shit, I-I'm just…so fucking s-scared!'

'I know; just cry as much as you want.' Rachel's voice was comforting and kind, but inside, she privately cursed Zoe for waiting until now to break down. After a few minutes went by and Zoe continued to sob violently, Rachel began to check around cautiously. If they stuck around here and Zoe continued to make so much noise, surely they'd be discovered. In fact, Rachel noticed, the two girls were currently standing what seemed to be an oversized ditch, bordered on all sides by gorse bushes which rose up from the ground to the peak of the mounds. There was enough plant life to provide a hiding spot for anyone who could be spying on them.

Rachel immediately felt a cold chill of fear run down her spine. She realised that beads of sweat had collected about her neck and had uncomfortably collected in the tiny gaps between her neck and her silver collar, which reminded Rachel that she was completely at its mercy. It may as well have had a large chain attached to it; she felt so much like a death row inmate. Zoe was no longer any support at all, and she was quickly losing her head. Who knew what she would do if the pressure got to her? The two of them needed to get out of here, and fast. While whispering and shushing her into submission, Rachel slowly began guiding Zoe until she was facing in the direction they had been heading.

'O-okay, Rachel. I'm fine now.' Zoe wiped her wet face, and bent down to retrieve her gun. 'God, I'm so stupid,' she laughed humourlessly. 'Anyone could have…' But the gun wasn't there. She'd left it lying on the ground in a puddle, so where was…?

'I've got the gun. Don't worry.' Zoe whirled around, and saw that, of course, Rachel was holding the lupara, and was standing only a few feet away.

I'm losing it…I'm going crazy!

Zoe giggled unnervingly. She'd been panicking for nothing, and now she moved forward with her arms outstretched. 'Thanks, I- Rachel, are you okay?' Zoe saw that Rachel was analysing the gun in some kind of horrified, yet intrigued manner. Her dark face had become unusually severe. 'Rachel, g-give me the gun. What are you-?'

'I think maybe I should hold onto it.' Rachel interrupted. 'I mean, I've just been thinking…maybe we're being watched.' She cast a panicked glance around her, as though someone would suddenly reveal themselves. This move was copied by Zoe, whose freckled face had become a degree more anxious. She didn't understand what was going on. Rachel had held the gun earlier, yet she'd let go of it as though it were scalding her. A part of Zoe knew, at that point, that she wasn't ever going to get her weapon back. It could possibly have been intuition.

'Rachel, stop messing about!' she sounded slightly hysterical. 'You saw me with the gun earlier and I know how to-'

'What do you think happens when you die?' Rachel seemed to be begging Zoe for something, but it was impossible to tell what. If Zoe's earlier question concerning boys was surprising, then God only knows the adjective to describe this one. Rachel rested her finger on the trigger, but she made no attempt to threaten Zoe, who was forcing herself to try to keep calm. She failed, and her blood ran cold.

'What?! Don't kill me! I swear Rachel, I'll do anything-'

'I'm not going to kill you! Just answer me! I have to know…' tears were streaming down her face and her mouth was hanging open as she gasped for breath. 'I just need to know that you don't think that…it's the end…' she trailed off and collapsed to her knees, soaking her trousers in the process. She raised her right arm and tossed the lupara away, as though disgusted with it. She then proceeded to gaze around the woodland and up at the sky, as though she were transfixed. It all really was very beautiful and peaceful. She looked to her right and could hear the waves of the sea pounding onto the shore.

Will everything really just disappear?

Zoe hurried frantically across to the area where Rachel had tossed the weapon. It had landed in the middle of a thicket and Zoe scrabbled around in the dirt, as desperately as she might have done if the gun had been made of pure gold. After a few seconds she waded into the bushes, he legs being slashed until they bled but she didn't care.

I'm getting out of here! Away from this psycho!

Only very briefly did Zoe glance instinctively back, to see Rachel put her hands onto the ground in order to get to her feet. She stood up and turned in the direction of Zoe.

Fuck, she's still got the axe!

At last Zoe located the lupara. It lay suspended between two bushes, resting on the branches like a cradle Zoe certainly felt a sense of relief similar to that when a mother finds a lost child, as she reached out to reclaim it. She didn't quite get her hands on it however, as a horrific shriek echoed behind her.

'Zoe, over there!'

Rachel's cry of horror, of course, caused Zoe to first whirl around and stare, panicked, in her direction. All colour had drained from her face, which made her look quite unlike herself. Her eyes did not acknowledge Zoe, however; they were firmly glued to whatever it was that had struck her with such fear. Zoe followed Rachel's eyes to an area several feet higher then either of them were currently standing. Zoe recoiled in shock at seeing another human being, and no words came out as she first gawked at the blonde girl staring back at her, as though faintly amused. Then Zoe realised that she didn't seem to be carrying a gun.

Thank. Fucking. God

'I-if you try anything, Nicole,'- Zoe took a step towards the lupara. She tried to make her voice sound confident and unafraid- 'then…I'll blow your fucking brains out!' Zoe had no reason to believe that Nicole Nicholson (Girl #11) would intend to simply walk away. Nicole was one of the kids in the class, she knew, who were to be avoided. Rumoured to be a tough criminal, and generally not very nice, Nicole had at school taken an almost sadistic pleasure in the troubles of the other girls, and it wasn't unheard of for her to have threatened some of the particularly non-confident kids into submission whenever she needed something, or simply wanted to toy around with them. Zoe had a particular reason to detest her, which was rooted in the way Nicole sometimes called her a 'wannabe slut' or a 'future trophy wife' behind her back and sometimes to her face. Zoe once called her on it at break, pointing out that Nicole was a hypocrite, having been sleeping around probably since she was twelve.

'Well,' Nicole had said, 'that was why I said it. To piss you off. You look like a ginger beetroot when you're angry. Maybe you're on your rag?'

'You bitch!' Zoe had actually moved forward to slap her, only to be restrained by Lucy Edmonton (Girl #4).

'She's not worth it, Zoe!' Lucy had then turned to face Nicole and Janine Carter (Girl #3) who was also present. 'You two are so pathetic! Just leave her alone, okay?'

Janine was not best pleased. 'Hey, what did I do?!' she leapt up from the bench she was sitting on and faced Nicole. 'Why do you always get me involved? I don't need these twats breathing down my neck, lumping us together. I bet it's because I'm poor, isn't it?' Janine snarled and glared at Lucy and Zoe.

'Whatever!' this was both Nicole and Zoe, the latter of which had calmed down. Nicole's face had taken on a particularly satisfied expression. She gestured to her pigtailed companion. 'Come on Janine, we've got some blackmailing to do!' As the two walked away, Zoe felt a surge of anger directed towards Lucy. She resented the fact that she'd involved herself in Zoe's battles…but now she was dead.

Right now, Nicolewasn't far enough away that Zoe couldn't see the familiar cruel smile forming that her lips formed. Unfortunately, there was probably distance enough for Nicole to make a relatively clean getaway. Zoe wondered, nonetheless, how she could afford to look so smug. Maybe she'd killed already. Maybe she was just a fucking lunatic.

Never mind. I'm getting out of here, even if I have to kill the both of them! Zoe stole a glance at the area over to where Rachel was standing. The latter started shouting:

'Leave it Zoe; come on, we've got to run!'

No way! Not for you to turn on me again-!

'I can't trust you!' she faced Rachel who was crying and shaking her head violently now. Zoe's words had just cut her deep, regardless of the situation. 'You're crazy, Rachel! Talking about dying-'

'I just wanted to know what you thought! I needed you to…reassure me.' Rachel looked pleadingly at Zoe.

'You won't need to trust her.' Nicole's clear, snide voice caught the girls' attention. She appeared to be in the process of standing up, though neither Zoe nor Rachel had noticed her crouch down. Standing atop the mound like a warrior queen, she then took a few steps back, but didn't disappear from sight.

'And what the fuck does that mean?' Zoe had gotten her hands on the lupara, and was aiming it in her direction, though it was unlikely she'd be able to hit Nicole, at least from this distance.

Then she heard it. A faint rustling in the bushes just ahead of her as a small, silver, orbital object bounced through the foliage in her direction. Of course, Zoe couldn't see it, and assumed it must be some kind of animal at first. She aimed her gun at the source of the noise. 'What's tha-

But she never found out exactly what it was.

The grenade had exploded only about a metre away from Zoe, but even if Nicole hadn't been quite such a good judge of perspective, the blast would easily have killed her. From Zoe's right, an almighty banging noise erupted, and clouds of dust, dirt, and leaves rose into the air. The surrounding bushes were obliterated as thousands of pieces of white-hot shrapnel burst off in all directions. Zoe Wakefield was blown literally off her feet as the lower part of her leg tore away from her body. Luckily, for her, she didn't feel it, as the shrapnel had ripped its way into her stomach, back, and the right side of her head at the same millisecond. Parts of her body had been blown to bits, and the rest of it was burnt red, black and covered in blood. Her skin was burnt on her face, destroying any traces of prettiness that had been there. Her eyes were still intact, surprisingly, and were only half-shocked, not having had time to process what was happening.

02:02

Although the range of the grenade had certainly been large enough to affect Rachel, it hadn't quite been enough to kill her. If she hadn't been moving across to where Zoe was standing, then she may well have come out unscathed, but as it was…

The force had blown her onto the ground, and at several points down her right arm and leg, and in her stomach, she could feel a scalding pain boring into her. Perhaps she was suffering from third degree burns. Underneath her body, warm blood began to collect. Rachel attempted to move, but the pain was too great, and she'd been greatly weakened. In the moments before she died, her thoughts went back to the afterlife. It looked like there was no hope for her now: she was going to die. For a split second, she wondered whether Nicole had set the fire that had drawn them here…but that didn't matter. She should be content that Olivia was safe- for now, at least- but instead Rachel felt bitter that she hadn't trusted her. On the other hand, the prospect of eternal sleep didn't horrify her quite so much; in fact it didn't seem like such a bad thing. She could have been in too much pain to be scared. Would her life have been worth living if she had survived this game? She didn't know.

Hearing a noise behind her, Rachel realised that Nicole was clambering down the steep slope to retrieve their weapons. Of course it had been Nicole who'd caused the explosion. It hadn't made sense a few seconds earlier, but now she understood.

Nicole didn't seem to be stopping to check on Zoe. Mercifully, Rachel wasn't facing her mangled corpse, so she didn't realise that she looked completely healthy in comparison to her friend.

As she heard Nicole approach her, her footsteps squelching across the wet ground Rachel didn't bother playing dead. Nicole wasn't some kind of grizzly bear. She just hoped- and this was filling her with fear- that Nicole would be…gentle. There was no way she was getting medical treatment from her.

'I knew it,' Nicole's sighed unhappily, as though something was inconveniencing her. 'You just couldn't die quickly, could you?' Rachel didn't respond, and she wasn't sure whether Nicole even knew that she was conscious.

'Still, at least you aren't begging me for mercy. I suppose that counts for something.'

So…she's killed before!

At that point, Rachel heard a zip snap open, before Nicole bent down and Rachel could feel the blonde hair on her neck. It made her skin crawl, even now.

There was a crunching noise, as something sharp was buried into the back of Rachel's neck. Then, she was gone at last.

Nicole Nicholson got to her feet. She waited about a minute and, when she was quite sure that Rachel's breathing had stopped, she bent down and yanked the silver arrow out of her neck. The arrow had belonged to Luciano Estevez (Boy #6). Nicole had smashed the crossbow itself, but the projectiles evidently came in handy. In fact, although she'd been disappointed that none of her first three victims carried a gun, their weapons were certainly helpful enough. So far, she'd used every single one of them.

Nicole put the arrow back in her daypack after using a clean part of Rachel's jumper to wipe off the blood, then headed over towards Zoe Wakefield and more importantly, the sawn-off shotgun.

14:06: Surviving Contestants: 28