Rory now knew what hell was like.
It was dark, it was in a shed filled with medicine, it was hot, and most of all, Roxy Patterson (Girl #12) was the Queen. She had completely buried herself in hope for his survival, determined to pop him pills until he either died or turned into a vegetable. It wasn't that she was a selfish person; she was just so confidant on saving him that she wasn't respecting his own wishes. It was just a girl that wanted to prove she was worth something before she died. He sympathized with her, he even couldn't bring himself to hate her, but still, he needed to get out.
Now.
The whole competition itself was just a trivial thing. Fifteen thousand schools. Forty-two two students. One survivor. They were all just easily replaceable things. America, once publicized as the country of love and harmony, had become emotionally dellusioned without even realizing it. Love was gone and replaced with books and books of new marriage laws. For the people who knew Rory North (and they didn't even know him well to begin with) they would have never guessed that he considered himself a pacifist as well as an outsider.
If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was people who just pretended everything was fine. It wasn't. That was one of the core reasons he had joined Zane's gang in the first place. He had always had a dissatisfaction with the country, even before the Republic of Greater East Asia had taken their movie. Almost before any of his classmates did, the Battle Royale had become common knowledge to him. It had started in Japan, shortly after their victory in World War Two, and spread like a cancer. After enlisting Britain with the law and probably finishing off thousands of schoolboys, it had traveled to Brazil, Australia, and finally, the biggest step of all: the U.S.A.
He had seen it coming from a mile away, but then again, he decided it was best to not stand in the way of a wave when it was coming. Isolating himself even more, he just continued to walk through life dissatisfied. He would smoke, he would inject, he would snort, and aside from the drugs and the disease that they had given him, he would even vandalize with Zane's group. Then again, when he took part in their games, it was always a call for peace. It was never violence; Rory didn't do violence.
Between his HIV, the country, and his own emotions, high school had been rough. His classmates quickly learned not to approach him, seeing he was better off on his own. After all, he had seen the fall of the country alone, he had gotten that damn disease from those needles alone, so he might as well die alone too. He didn't need any of them; not even his own friends. It was just best to die alone in dignity then die by association. It wasn't that he didn't care about the others on the island. Truth to be told, he would pray for them before it was his time to be finished off. He just didn't mix well with anyone else, and that was final.
Rory put one foot off the sweaty cot.
It hurt, but even though he would go down, he wouldn't suffer in a sweltering room with a drama club freak popping pills and spooning him like a baby. He would go out in dignity. Whether it was an exploding collar or a gunshot to the heart, he would make sure his death would be quick, painless, and going out with a bang. Shaking another foot off, he steadied himself off, feeling his head shift like a jug of burning water in his head.
Stumbling, and feeling like he was walking inside an oven, Rory took a few steps. His feet felt feather-light, throwing him off-balance, but he still managed to keep himself steady. To the side, Roxy's head was buried in the medicine cabinet, searching for some type of aspirin and humming some Broadway hit to herself. Cringing and feeling like a hammer was being jammed into his skull, Rory continued to walk. One more step and he would be at the door.
"I'll walk into a Danger Zone", Rory's mind raced. "Or off a building. Or run into the water. I just half to get the hell out of here".
It was all just part of a pattern that would be fulfilled when he died. Rory wasn't religious; he'd basically been too scared to really believe in anything. Living life as an outsider, knowing your time was ticking away, the only suitable option in the program was to become a red shirt that nobody would remember. That was the one part of dying that frightened him, because in the end, Rory honestly enjoyed life. It was over too fast, so in the end, you might as well make the most of it while you're still around. Even if his life sucked, it was life. You couldn't waste something like that. He wondered if he'd used his time wisely.
"Rory? What are you doing?"
He felt his arm thud like a drumbeat. Roxy had emerged from the medicine cabinet, and in shock, dropped two vials of what appeared to be painkillers. The pills clattered on the floor like a broken gumballs, the worst song that Rory's ears could have heard. Roxy's normally spaced-out expression, only changing when she was performing in a play, now looked like she had just seen a ghost.
"Are…Are you trying to leave me?"
"Leave me alone!"
He tried to walk faster, but in an instant, she had grabbed his arm. Her eyes looked hurt, but past that, they were almost menacing. It was almost like she was threatening him not to leave.
"Please Rory!" she protested. "Don't leave! I need to take care of you!"
"Y-Y-You don't care about me at a-a-all", Rory choked out. "You j-j-j-just want to feel b-b-b-better about yourself".
With his body feeling like it had been submerged in burning acid, Rory shoved Roxy to the ground and somehow worked up the strength to start running. In just a few moments, she was hot on his tail.
Lea Passington (Girl #11) didn't consider being kidnapped by the Mercedes girls a disadvantage. At first she had been raging in fury as they apprehended her, desperate to escape, but as they carried her away, her anger had melted into mild dissatisfaction. The way she figured it, it was just an inconvenience that would quickly fade away.
"Lea, could I ask you a few questions?"
Lea growled as she glanced up. Prudence was sitting in the chair across from her backwards, her arms folded on the top as she looked at her. Sadie was leaning against the kitchen counter, drumming her fingers as she looked at the scene in front of her with an anxious face. Lea's weapons, the handsaw, the scissors, and most fondly, the golf club were lying in the corner in a heap of metal.
After wandering in circles for what seemed like forever, Prudence had finally settled on a rectangular building several feet out of the woods. Holding her in a headlock as they walked inside, Lea had been surprised to see that they had stumbled into perhaps the only restaurant, or place to eat out for that matter, in Cuna Cielo. It had the appearance of a 50's diner, even complete with an old-fashioned jukebox that looked like it had been bought at an antique show. The flickering neon sign outside the restaurant had said, "Maurey's Diner".
Now, bemused and sitting on a stool in the kitchen, Lea glared at Prudence. "Shoot".
In the next room, the jukebox was playing the soft and somewhat depressing tune by the Beatles, "While My Guitar Gently Weeps". Sadie drummed her fingers on the counter to the slow beat. Lea guessed she wasn't too happy about having a deranged killer several feet away from her.
"After you kill all of these people", Prudence sighed. "How do you just keep going on with yourself? You realize you ruined somebody's life right? In fact, if we didn't stop you, you probably would have ruined even more!"
"I look at the world and notice its turnin'", Lea sang softly. "Well, what's wrong with killing, Prudence? Everyone has their reasons".
"I take it that you're not going to tell us your reasons?"
Lea shrugged. "My reasons are simple. There's so many different religions. They're all so different and they invest people into doing different things. I've tried to believe something, but none of it makes sense. The only thing that they all had in common was the idea of people making things up about death because they were scared of it. Heaven isn't real. The afterlife isn't real. There's nothing waiting there but a dark room where you'll never have another thought. I don't want to believe that. Along with all that, it all boils down to the same thing as everyone else: I'd prefer not to die.
"So you're a religious killer? How more cliché can you get?"
"No. I'm the opposite. I'm killing to find a religion".
Prudence growled. "You're a bitch. That's all you are. How does any of this give you a reason to kill people?"
"I told you. I'm just trying to find something that makes sense. Everybody here has a reason that they shouldn't live. They all died, or are going to die, for a reason. You Prudence, for example, take our your anger on other people because you're insecure and don't know how to care about other people. You Sadie, try to impress people too much and just blame yourself when it backfires. You're all horrible, horrible people. You've all done horrible, horrible things to me and everyone else you saw below you. I don't know what my religion is, or even if I should believe in it, but whatever it is, according to it, I would make it so both of you would rot in Hell".
Sadie stared from the counter. "So is that where Meyerhold and Enrique are? Hell".
"No. They're in the dark room. They're never going to get out either".
"Lea" Prudence snarled. "Do you realize what you're saying makes no goddamned sense at all?"
Lea bit her lip. It was apparent she was in deep thought. Living life as an outsider had given her a strong sense of self-justice, making it so she was only right, but those views didn't last long in the real world. They were always put down by the people that thought they were better; the people who, in around forty-two hours, would all be dead.
"I don't know, Prudence", Lea sighed. "All I know is that I'm not leaving this island in a body bag. I'm not giving up anything I believe in just because you say so. What I say is right and that's the end of it. You've all let the world brainwash you; you're all dead on the inside. You're just weeds that have to be replanted. I'm sticking to that".
"That's only because you're too scared to believe in anything else!" Prudence roared.
"I hate to say it", Sadie sighed. "But she's not bad at figuring people out".
"Thanks", Lea said awkwardly. It was the first time she'd ever received a compliment from anyone, nonetheless somebody from her class. It could've have been an accomplishment if it wasn't so pathetic.
"I just have one question though", Prudence said suddenly. "If I gave you this gun, would you kill us?"
Lea stared at the M16, once belonging to a girl that was now dangling from a barn's rafters, in Prudence's hand. It was gripped tightly, but if she was quick enough, it would be an easy grab that would massacre both of the Mercedes girls. Then again, Prudence, staring at her like a vulture, probably expected this a mile away. She had asked a question and, unfortunately, Lea was inclined to answer. Never relating well with the other kids, or other people in general, she frowned and wondered what animal preyed on vultures.
"You're a dyke, you know that Prudence? That's what everyone says about you at school".
"You'd probably cry if I told you what everyone says about you", Prudence said with a grin "Now, answer the question".
Lea grinned back. "Of course. I'd kill you both with my bare hands".
With neither Sadie or Prudence surprised, Lea closed her eyes, reminded herself that , and continued the jukebox song with her small and grim voice:
"I look at you all. Still my guitar gently weeps. Oh…Oh…Ohhh…"
Every neighborhood had its legendary place that nobody dared to venture to. It may be because it was haunted, maybe because it was rumored to be the sight of a mass murder, or probably just because being in the place gave you the creeps. Every town in the world had a place like this, and for Spanish Rivers, Oklahoma, it only went by one name:
"Albi's Den," Skylar spoke aloud to the video camera in his head. "Off the backroads from the highway, a mile up the Pequeno Mountains, and finally, a plummet straight to the bottom of the darkest layer of hell. Will we escape?"
"Would you stop that?" Jesse snapped. "This is freekin' weird enough as it is".
Skylar nudged his girlfriend playfully in the backseat of J.C's grandmother's beaten-up and still durable Acura Legend. Being a fan of the 80's, nobody had been able to convince the elderly woman to get rid of the damn car when she became ridden to her wheelchair. Being the kind of person who she was, her granddaughter had nabbed it without a second thought. Nobody seemed to care that J.C didn't even have a license, and if she did, it probably would have been confiscated during her first ride.
Due to the cramped nature of the car, Jesse and Skylar had piled into the incredibly small backseat, giving J.C the wheel and Zane the passenger seat. Not wanting her grandma to find that her entire car smelled like cigarettes or god knows what else he would bring on the ride, they had only come up with one suitable solution for where to put Rory.
"How are you holding up back there, man?" Zane laughed.
Rory struggled to say something from the trunk, but his voice was muffled by the aged seats. J.C had explained that the trunk was safe, although she hadn't told them it would occasionally pop open during the ride until they were out on the highway. Still, although he had protested quite a bit, Rory had been a good sport about it.
"No cops were on the road", Jesse said bemused. "Do you think they were on to us or something?"
"No way", Skylar said, "No cop would come to Albi's if his career depended on it. The entire thing is chained up like a zoo. I don't think they'd even find a legal way of getting in there".
"Good thing we brought rope then".
Albi's Den, often simply called Albi's by the teenagers of Spanish Rivers, was true to Skylar's words at being, "a plummet straight to the darkest layer of hell". The entire complex itself was an abandoned neighborhood in the mountains, covered in graffiti and barbwire. It had once been highly inhabitable, but for an unknown reason, people had just decided to clear out one day. With the population gone, the neighborhood had fell apart, becoming a frequent sight of teenage vandalism. However, that wasn't half the reason Zane's gang had decided to drive up there that Friday night. Rumors had spread of flesh-eating tribes of albinos that lived in the area, feeding on hikers or bikers that passed through at unlucky. They made their own laws and lived their own lives, and almost never left their cozy little huts. There was supposed to be a whole colony of them out there, just living their lives oblivious to society.
And with the mention of possible danger, the five deliquents had jumped at the chance of visiting the place.
"We're almost there", J.C pointed out. "Two more minutes top".
Her face was sheepish and worried, and any minute, Zane knew a regular stream of complaints were going to come out of her whiny little mouth. Deciding to put out the fire before it started, he forced a smile.
"Are you scared, J.C?"
"This is too weird, Zane. We've done stuff like this before, but going to Albi's is different. There's something that's not right about this place. I'm scared. What if they come outside and chase us?"
Smirking, he placed his arm around his girlfriend's shoulder. "Would I let them eat you?"
She giggled, and even though she was still driving, she nuzzled her head against her boyfriend. It was a weird relationship from any onlookers, the school criminal and the spoiled ad equally tough brat, but they were strangely suited for eachother. Zane acted as somewhat of J.C's protector while she, aside from acting as another one of his lackeys, was also one of the only people, although he would never admit it, cared for. Even if she was manipulative and roped him into doing things for her, he was nontheless, her best friend. Skylar and Jesse meanwhile, were almost like the same body and mind. The fact that they had been voted best couple in their middle school yearbook only reinforced this.
After merely half a minute, the winding mountain road gave way to a bridged tunnel covered in age-old graffiti. Various gang symbols covered the entire thing, but the most prominent one, standing out in blood red paint, was the word, "Albi's", with an arrow pointing under the tunnel.
"What are you waiting for?" Zane snapped. "Park it".
"Wait, we're getting out of the car?" J.C said in alarm.
"Hell yeah we're getting out of the car", Zane said. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he kicked the door roughly with his feet, jamming it open with a soft hiss. "Why do you think we brought the rope? We're getting in there and blowing this place sky high".
He hopped out of the slowly moving vehicle, landing on his feet like a cat. Out of everyone there, Zane was afraid of the cops coming the least. Beside the fact that his father was the police chief of the entire county, usually able to bail him out of whatever he did, he just loved being in the face of danger. Growing up in a house where the government and authority was almost always right, it was great having a chance for freedom like this. Looking back at the car, Skylar and Jesse piled out of the backseat as J.C, hugging herself, walked up from the driver's side.
"Any of you ever watch a slasher movie?" Jesse asked, hooked around Skylar's waist.
"What?"
"You know, the movies where a bunch of gullible teenagers get hacked to bits one by one by the chainsaw-wielding killer, but the lead girl gets away covered in blood?"
"That's disgusting", J.C snapped. " Why would you even mention something like that?"
"Well, this looks like the place for one of them to happen. I mean, check it out".
The four stared out through the tunnel. Run-down cottages loomed down at them from the side of the dirt road, hidden by thorny trees or broken and tattered porches. There was more than enough graffiti to paint L.A. Zane frowned. He wondered if there would be any spots left for him to tag.
However, in front of the entire place and at the end of the tunnel was a rusted metal fence that circled the entire lot. "Danger", and, "Keep Out: Trespassers Will be Shot", signs covered the entire area, just begging them to attempt to break in even more than they already wanted to. With the rope that they had brought, and careful climbing, getting over the fence would be a breeze.
"This is creepy as hell", J.C sighed. "Why did you guys drag me up here?"
"Because you're an idiot", Skylar replied calmly. "The pretty, stupid ones always die first. And you have a car".
She frowned. "Do you watch these movies too?"
"You should stop by Jesse's house sometime. She had a whole glass cabinet with all of them alphabetized. It's like a gore library or something. We stayed up for two days straight watching all of them once. They're all kind of the same when you think about it. Horror movies are really just all from the idea that people are scared of things they don't have control of".
"Screw movies", Zane said. "Let's get this thing going".
"Yeah, let's start getting stuff out of the trunk the cannibals find us", Jesse said grinning. "You kept all of the beer in the cooler, right Zan—AUGGHH!"
The moment she opened the trunk, Rory swung out like he'd been trapped underwater. His normally pale face was red and exhausted, and it looked like he had breathed up all of the air he could find in the trunk. They all started laughing, and Jesse, having no other choice and still clutching her heart, was forced to join in.
"Sorry man", Zane laughed. "We almost forgot about you".
Rolling his eyes, Rory didn't say anything as he hopped out of the trunk with a cooler of beer clutched in his hands. Jesse quickly pulled out a bundle of thorny rope, a box of fireworks, several cans of spray paint, and finally, the one thing that guaranteed breaking into Albi's a simple task.
Skylar's eyes opened wide. "Way to go. Looks like we won't need the rope after all".
"I stole it from my dad's workshop", Jesse said grinning. " I wanted it to be a surprise".
"Toss it over here", Zane called. "I'm doing the honors"
With Skylar instantly pressing the record button on his camera, and Zane ripping the red Morrison chainsaw from Jesse's hands, the four of them watched their leader scream a war cry as he dashed toward the tunnel. Although it was obviously heavy, the desire to have a good time had seemed to have taken over him. The moment he reached halfway down the tunnel, he pulled the cord, spewing the motor to life as the saw screeched into the night. He threw it roughly into the rusted fence with all of his might, sending sparks and scrap metal flying into the air. However, he didn't stop there. Within seconds, he had cut a clear pathway through the fence for them to get to Albi's.
"Remember when I said, "chainsaw-wielding killers?" Skylar called out.
Flipping his friend the middle finger, he watched as all four of the others quickly hurry in with the spray paint, cooler filled with beer, box of fireworks, and the now useless rope. Zane Barrens. Leader. Criminal. Chainsaw-wielding killer. He hated to say that he liked it.
And as he walked in, swaying the chainsaw in his hand, the next three hours were history.
As Skylar, refusing to drink due to his role on the basketball team, walked around and taped the cottages with his video camera, the others had gathered around a fire pit off the center of the dirt road and had begun to drink. After polishing down half of their supply, J.C had seemed to have forgotten about the place they were in and now seemed to be too intoxicated to get up. She was laughing hysterically on the ground, almost talking to herself. Rory kept to himself, smoking as he stared at the sky. Jesse, wanting to set an example for the others and an image for her boyfriend, had only had one beer and claimed it was enough.
Spraying a tree with the initials ZB, Zane colored it in with an even blue shade. It was a great night; one of the best nights of his life. He would intend to keep it that way. There was a strange sense of power knowing you could boss around your friends, decide where to go and what to do, and it had given him all of the independence and strength he needed.
As Zane began to outline it in a crisp and charred black, Skylar came rushing over with the video camera.
"I got some great shots of the cottages", Skylar said. "It's spooky around here. You almost think you're being watched or something. I didn't see any cannibals or anything though. I'm pretty sure its just an urban legend or something". He glanced over at the campfire. "J.C got drunk?"
"I'd be surprised if she could stand up. Want to light them off now?"
He didn't even need to say yes. Without an opinion from the others, Zane rushed over and emptied the box of fireworks like a toddler opening Christmas presents. Quickly snatching the box of matches that they had hidden inside, he grabbed the Dynamite-branded firework; it was shaped like a rubber duck with a fuse attached to its tail. It was bright, loud, and most of all, terrifying. Perfect.
Putting the match at the end of the striker, he scratched it roughly and stared at the fire at the end of the small stick. Then, laughing like a hyena, he lit the duck and tossed it into the air.
"COME OUT ALBINOS!"
THUD!
"Jesus, Zane!'
The sound was like a gun silencer in the sky. His eardrums felt like they had been pummeled as the lights flashed in the sky, burning his eyes. The blue sparks fizzled and blew in the sky for several seconds before simmering and beginning to drop.
The moment the sparks vanished, everybody in the group began laughing and cheering. It could have been from the hype of what was going on or intoxicating beverages, but it was more for just the hell of it. They were friends. They had broken into Albi's Den and lit the entire sky up with fireworks. If they didn't deserve gold medals for their endeavors, they at least enjoyed a laugh.
"Want to say something to the camera, Jesse?" Skylar asked smiling, raising his camcorder toward his girlfriend.
Jesse giggled. "I-
"Who are you people?" a voice roared. "What are you doing here?"
Every laugh was immeadidly cut. Zane swore he felt himself jump out of his skin as he saw the man with a baseball bat rush out of the cottage. He was wearing what appeared to be rags, though the fact that he was wearing a fancy fedora, the kind a mobster would wear, made it even more unsettling. As he neared them, Zane could see that his skin was also surprisingly pale and his hair was stark white; a perfect description of the supposed tribe of albinos that supposedly lived in their mountains.
"He's going to eat us!" J.C slurred. "E-E-E-Eat us up! Hahahaha!"
Jesse had backed herself up behind Skylar who was holding his shaking camcorder at the man, cowering in fear. Rory eyed the man without any interest and just continued to keep smoking his cigarette like he hadn't just broken into a fenced trespassing sight, defaced an entire abandoned village, and then discover that the residents were very much alive.
The man's white face was almost expressionless. If it wasn't his pasty skin, the one shocking detail about him was the rag he was wearing. Somehow, with either charcoal or pastel, somebody had completely painted a mural of the tunnel they had all walked through on the man's shirt. It was almost like wearing a Michaelangelo painting as a shirt; even the graffiti that said Albi's Den was there. Although it really didn't make any sense, Zane quickly named the man Albi to make the situation a little better. It didn't help.
"We-
"You've defaced our trees", Albi said. "We've been watching your friend trespassing on our homes, recording it for amusement. You've polluted our air. You've sent light into our skies. You've even tore down our fence with that awful machine". He glanced in disgust at J.C. "And you've let your woman make a pig of herself and pollute her body on our land".
Zane glanced down at his girlfriend. She was still laughing hysterically, rolled over against the log with the can of beer held loosely in her hand. What had started out as a night to simply be a teenager had turned into what was slowly becoming the most hellish time of his life. For once, somebody who considered himself a natural born leader was completely powerless to do anything. Damn, really, where the hell had he put that chainsaw?
"You people come up here with no consideration for anyone else but yourself", Albi continued. "All you care about is building and building and taking away things that are rightfully ours. We don't harass you. Why do you continue to harass us?"
"I…I…don't know", Zane stammered.
Seeing their leader was powerless, everyone turned to Jesse, the speaker and plan-maker of the group. Her face was terrified, but behind that, her mind appeared to be working. Slowly, she began to walk out from behind Skylar, gaining confidence in herself. From behind them, Rory was still staring at the sky like they weren't being threatened.
"We thought this place was abandoned", Jesse began. "We just came here to have a good time. Please, we're just children. Really! We don't want to harm you or anyone else that might live here. We just came here to have a good time".
"Your idea of having a good time is horrible", Albi said. "And you're not children. You and the drunken pig on the ground are almost full-grown woman. The three others are almost men".
Skylar gulped. "We-
"Shut off that camera, boy".
"Are you going to eat us or not?" Rory said suddenly.
Everybody was suddenly silent. Zane stared at the completely factual sketch of the tunnel on Albi's shirt; the place that he would probably never exit through again. All of their criminal partying and vandalism had always been something they had just done because they knew they wouldn't have gotten caught. Now, it was more than just getting caught. Staring at a mentally disturbed mountain man with a baseball bat, there was a good chance they would be killed.
"We don't feed on flesh", Albi answered with a sigh. "When people are different, rumors spread. We just live out here and wouldn't like to be disturbed. Unfortunately, your kind doesn't heed our warnings".
Rory didn't break his glance. "What are you going to do to us?"
"According to our law, I should kill you. Because you're just brainless and spoiled urban children, I'll let you leave. I want you to turn over all evidence that you were here though". He eyed Skylar coldly. "To make myself clearer, I want that machine you used to record our village".
"But I worked at the supermarket for three years to afford this! I didn't stack all of those crates in the back for nothing. If you want, I can just delete the vid-
"Skylar, just give him the god damn video camera!" Zane screamed.
The moment he had his hands on Skylar's, "machine", he threw it roughly against a rock around the fire pit, shattering it to pieces with a spark of electricity. Skylar whimpered softly, but now that he realized they were leaving, he had enough common sense to shut up. As Albi stared at the ruins of the video camera, never looking at them from under his fedora, he whispered softly:
"You can leave now".
Not wasting a second, the four took off toward the bridge, Jesse and Skylar both holding J.C who was still giggling and probably had no clue where they really were. Rory walked quietly behind them, throwing his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it. Nobody dared to go back and retrieve the cooler and chainsaw, and most of all, look back at Albi.
"Thanks Rory", Jesse said. "If you didn't say anything, we probably would still be there".
"Are you kidding, Jesse?" Skylar laughed. "You're the one that gave him that whole speech. If you weren't so good at talking to people, he'd probably be eating us all on a shish kabob. We owe it all to you".
"Rory was so straight to the point though", Jesse admitted. "He just kept asking questions until we got out of there. He probably saved our lives".
Rory, immeadidly lighting another cigarette and trying to hold back a cough, merely smiled before staring back at the ground. They were nearing the tunneled bridge covered in graffiti and outside, the familiar headlights of J.C's grandma's car was greeting them.
"God am I glad to see those lights", Zane sighed.
Skylar stared. "J.C didn't leave the lights on when she got out of the car".
"Freeze!"
Before they could do anything, a swarm of police officers had dashed down the tunnel and surrounded them. Due to the alcohol only slightly wearing off, Zane wasn't aware of very much that happened after that. Apparently, they were being taken into custody for, "vandalism", "trespassing", "illegal use and possession of firearms", and (after the police officer sniffed the air), "underage drinking and smoking". Zane considered telling them about Albi, but considering how he felt about intruders and how they had trespassed to begin with, it really wasn't worth it.
"I'm J.C Br-r-rooke" she choked in a slurred and drunk laugh as they were handcuffing her. "My grandma…my grandma is gonna' be so mad. She…She'll sue all a' ya'! Where…Where's my car? Z-Z-Zane?"
As they were all loaded into the police car one after another, all piled into the backseat, no one was really upset that they had all been arrested. On the other hand, they were just thankful to be alive. It was halfway onto the highway though when Skylar began laughing.
Nobody knew exactly what he was laughing about or even if they wanted to join in, but in the end, they just ended up all cracking up together. It wasn't because it was funny, and it wasn't hysterical either. It was just a laugh of triumph. Who else could say they broke into Albi's Den, lit off a firework, met a disturbed local, and were arrested the moment they left with their friends? And friends. Zane didn't like the word, refusing to admit outloud that any of them were his friends, but in the back of his mind, he knew it was reason they were all laughing.
They had never known who or what was really up there. They probably never would either. But they had all run to the car together…all of them…all five of them laughing…together…
Zane Barrens (Boy #1) woke up panting in his prison of duct tape. He barely registered that his entire mouth was almost a cesspool of diseases and blood, and he was also vaguely aware that he had to vomit, but the nightmare would stay there forever. They had all been there. J.C. Skylar. Jesse. Rory. Two of them had died due to his own carelessness as a friend and somebody who had let all of their hope fall down. Their good times together, the few good times they had, were something to cherish. He would bring all of those memories to his death, but he knew thinking about any of them would make him sick. Maybe even sicker than he felt right there.
"Rise and shine, Zane. You overslept".
Zane moaned as he squinted at Chris kneeling above him. A sniper rifle, truthfully Zane's rifle, was clutched in his hands making him look like a general. Eddie was off in the distance of the campsite, drumming on his knees as he sat on a log, while Preston was strangely absent. He was probably off gathering more firewood or keeping lookout; he was probably terrified out of his mind too. Zane couldn't deny that he deserved elimination more than anyone. It was a grim reminder in his head that Chris, a brutal and sadistic leader, Eddie, a mindless follower, and Preston, a wimp who couldn't fight for himself, were all probably going to survive Day One.
"You were rocking around in your sleep and coughing", Chris said. "It was disgusting to look at. I was considering shooting you to end it all, but you're not worth a bullet. I hate to say it boy, but you got a good gun. You could probably shoot through an oak tree with this thing with enough pumps".
"Did you guys kidnap and torture anyone else?"
"No, we didn't. Do you know what my weapon is, Zane? I got a first-aid kit! Can you believe that? If Eddie gets shot in this competition, I'm not kneeling down, stitching his wounds, and kissing him to make him feel better. I'm bashing him in the head with my kit and putting a bullet in his skull. That goes even more for Preston; I hate that kid".
Zane groaned. "You hate everyone".
"Not necessarily", Chris explained. "You wouldn't believe it, Zane, but I can actually be pretty courteous. Did you know I waited for not just Eddie, but also Preston outside the school? If that doesn't show friendship, I don't know what does. Even if Eddie's a dumbass and Preston's a pussy, I still risked my life to wait for them".
"That's only because you're going to kill them when it comes down to the three of-
He let his speech stop abruptly. In the corner of Zane's eye, two people were running along the forest bed.
"What were you saying, Zane?'
"Nothing".
"Good. Keep it that way".
Zane bit his lip as he glanced at the two figures. One, A BOY, was almost limping, using all of his might to force himself forward. The one behind him, a girl by the looks of it, almost seemed to be chasing him, but she already seemed out of breath and was huffing like an elephant. Who was unathletic that had gotten on the bus? The girl was far too skinny to be Logan, Mae was dead, and Demi, well, Winston would follow her to the moon if he had to. The girl didn't seem to want to do any harm to the boy though; she almost seemed to be reaching out to him in a cry for help that he was flat-out refusing to give ehr.
"Don't run here", Zane's mind yelled. "Make sure Chris doesn't see you guys! Please!"
"What's wrong, Zane? See a raccoon or a cat or something? I've been wanting to test out this rifle and everyone here is a waste of ammo and space".
"No. I just sort of remembered something".
They had a close chance of being seen and a close chance of escaping this fate and being resigned to another, probably much more sane and dignified than the one they would get if Chris Barrister kidnapped them. They were just on the border of the forest, and all it would take was one more sprint to vanish from view. Although he had no clue why the girl was chasing the boy, he knew for certain that they were better off just getting the hell out of here.
And with that, the most unpleasant voice screeched into the air:
"Chris!" Eddie shrieked, pointing his stubby finger. "People! People!"
Not wasting a second, Chris rolled over like an army maneuver with the sniper rifle. His eyes searching like an eagle, they locked instantly on the running pair, who at the sound of a rifle being cocked, instantly stopped dead in their tracks. Now that they had rounded the corner around the bog and gotten closer, Zane noticed the girl had a pageboy haircut. It was the worst kind, at least in his opinion, a girl could get. The boy, meanwhile, had greasy hair hidden under a skater beanie.
"Identify yourselves!" Chris barked.
The girl squealed and began to back away, but the boy remained completely motionless. He answered in a voice that seemed like it took all of his energy to talk.
"Rory North and Roxy Patterson", he answered curtly. "Don't hesitate to shoot us, Chris".
For a second, Chris seemed slightly taken aback. Eddie, standing next to him, had almost dissolved into a hysteric laughing fit. From how screechy and unpleasant his voice was, Zane couldn't tell if he was in pain or pleasure.
"It's a girl, Chris!" Eddie yelled. "Hot damn, we got a girl!"
Chris rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Eddie!"
Just like he had repeatedly smacked Preston, Eddie received a heavy blow to the head that still didn't break his widespread smile. He merely staggered backwards onto the dirt, still giggling softly to himself. Chris brandished his fists defensively as he glared down at his, "friend". Zane remembered how he had often done the same thing to Skylar; his stomach started to feel even worse.
"If any girl comes here", Chris barked. "I'm getting first dibs. Now, where were we? Roxy? Hmm? You're that drama club chick right? Well, looking at the kind of clothes you wear, the way you cut your hair, and the fact that you're in the drama club, I'd bet you're a virgin. Is that right, Roxy? Are you a virgin?"
Roxy whimpered again. She didn't have any other choice but to nod, not knowing which answer would give her a better future. Rory, meanwhile, was regarding the situation without any interest, just like he did with almost everything. Zane remembered how he had identified Roxy and himself; he had never seen Rory say a sentence that long in his entire life.
"A virgin, huh? Well, I can't say that I'm happy. There's so many other girls that could have wandered in here, but we had to get you. Oh well. You have to make do with what you got, I guess. For now, I'm satisfied". He glanced at Rory with perhaps even less interest than the stoner himself. "Eddie, do we have any tape left?"
"No. We used it all up on Zane".
"Damn it. Well-
"I'm staying here", Rory said suddenly. "You don't have to chain me up, put up a fence, or anything else. I want to be here".
Everybody in the entire bog was silent. Even Eddie's vicious laugh was cut at Rory's words. At the most, Zane had considered Rory a tagalong. While he was an admitted member of their group, he had always been a reluctant outsider than had just seemed to latch onto the group because he didn't have anybody else. Just being around other people seemed to upset him; he was a loner with dignity. Whenever Zane would get into his violent arguments with Skylar, and occasionally J.C or Jesse, Rory would simply stand on the sideline, bemused at the carnage that was going on. He didn't seem to care about anything, even himself for that matter. Now, aside from looking dreadfully sick and pale, Rory had finally shown a sign of something working in his head beside a craving for smoking or injecting himself in his room. For once, Rory may have been thinking.
"I'm not giving up", Rory continued. "I'm giving in. There's a difference".
Cringing slightly, and with nobody trying to stop him, he began a slow and painful limp toward Zane. Crouching his stomach, but still forcing a short smile, let himself collapse into the dirt. Now that he was up close to him, Zane noticed that a trickle of blood was dripping from the corner of his mouth, almost like he had coughed it up. He was also shivering uncontrollably.
"Kill me any time you want, Chris. Some people just aren't cut out for killing people or even surviving. I don't know what made you do the things you're doing, and I don't know what made Preston and Eddie follow you, but I'm never going to be like you. I'm not cut out for this game; I'm dying whether you want to put a bullet through my skull or not".
Chris stared. "Um, okay…"
His face was red and embarrassed, and clearly, he hadn't expected one of his captives to actually want to be captive. The sniper rifle was held loosely at his side, making him look almost less powerful. Eddie, uncomfortable seeing his leader like this, directed his attention back toward their prize catch.
"Chris, the girl!"
Chris grinned. "Oh yeah! The little actress that wandered into our campsite! Hey Roxy!"
As Chris and Eddie quickly apprehended Roxy, pummeling her to the ground as she protested and screamed all the way ("I was just trying to help! Stop!") Zane managed to turn the throbbing sack of flesh that had once been his head and stare at Rory. Staring at the stars as he hugged his knees, it was strange, but the only word Zane could think of to describe him was, "impressive". It was weird and didn't fit the situation at al, but it was the only way to describe somebody who could simply sit down calmly when there was a rifle pointed openly at their head.
"Rory?'
Rory didn't smile. "Hello Zane".
"Do you think Chris and Eddie are really going to…"
"I think they just wanted to scare her so she'd be too shocked to run away. The odds are Chris is probably a virgin, too. He might beat the crap out of her, he might even kill her, but there's no way he would do that. He's not brave enough; all three of them are cowards".
Zane stared. "You're pretty casual with me now for somebody that thinks I'm a mass-murderer".
"What?'
"I killed Jesse and Skylar, remember?'
"J.C ran, so I ran too. I was thinking since the competition started; I just needed some time to think alone and get away from everyone else. I would ask what happened to you too, but considering that your entire face looks like someone put it in a blender, I'm not going to ask. Chris got you?" Zane nodded bitterly. "Well, that's okay. When they kill me, maybe it will give you enough time to escape".
"What?"
"Oh, didn't I mention?" Rory said. "I'm planning to let them kill me. That's what I've been thinking about".
"You're nuts!"
Rory frowned. "Let me-
"No! You're nuts!" Zane realized he was almost screaming, but he didn't care. After losing several of his teeth, probably catching several diseases from his wounds being overexposed, and generally being caught in a living hell since the game started, he knew he was a person qualified to be angry. "We spent our whole lives talking about how much we hated the government! After all of that, you're just going to give up and call it quits! What the hell is wrong with you? If you die, the only ones left are J.C and me!"
"Well, then the only ones left are going to be J.C and you. Get used to it. I'm dying whether you like it or not". Rory paused. " While I'm here, I might as well tell you some information that's traveled around. Roxy told me that that Lea girl's playing the game. Watch out for her; Mae's death was early enough to be a freak accident or something, Skylar and Jesse offed themselves, but I think Lea must have caught Enrique. For everyone who died after that, like Risa or somebody, I think Lea definitely caught one of them. Whatever's going through her head, it's not good".
"I'll watch out".
"Good".
"But excuse me for saying so, but I'm still not too thrilled about having to watch one of my friends get their brains blown out!"
"Just close your eyes when it happens. Chris will do it eventually. All the power will go to his head, he'll see the need to make a point, and then bam! I'm gone".
"Is that what you want to die as? Just a point to make for Chris?"
"It's better than dying and not being remembered at all".
Zane stiffened. He looked over at Rory's face again, which now, even with a face that looked like a pumpkin left outside far past Halloween, still looked impressive. Zane wanted to touch his own face, wondering how bad it really was, but seeing how his arms were wrapped in a coat of duct tape, any efforts would be useless.
"Rory, I want you to know that no matter how bad I treated you, or J.C, or Skylar, or Jesse, you were all my friends. Maybe not my friends, but you were the closest thing I had to them. I just had to look impressive in front of somebody; I don't think it ever had a chance of working past the fact that you guys tried to not hate me. I mean, after all of the horrible things I did to all of you, how could you not hate me?'
Rory grinned. "It's like you said. None of us had anybody else".
It was the closest thing anyone from Zane's gang had ever given him close to a compliment. It was pathetic, suitable for Zane who felt like a sap from the sentimental speech he had just given, but it was pathetic in a good way. On a field trip to the capitol a long time ago, they (when all five had still been alive) had taken a firework and blown the head off a statue. It was their own underground and low way of getting back at the country, and for some reason, out of all the times he could've, Zane was remembering it now.
"Escape this place. Blow it to pieces. Find J.C. Stay together. If you have to die, go out the way you want to".
For the first time in his life, Zane had virtually no comeback. Several feet away, Roxy was sobbing into the dirt, clawing and biting as Eddie as he attempted to take off her shirt. Several feet away from there, Chris was holding his sniper rifle, trying his best to look intimidating. Several more feet away from there, Preston was in the forest, gathering firewood as he massaged the shallow slaps on his face.
And in the bushes, not too far off from where Zane and Rory had talked, a boy carrying a pistol had arrived fifteen minutes before. Although by medical terms he was, "mentally retarded", whatever that meant, he was smart enough to know that Chris was the worst of the lot out there. He wouldn't stand a chance against him, but it didn't matter. He was confused. When you were confused, you just yelled and screamed until the problem went away. If it didn't, you blew it to pieces.
Darren Warner (Boy #20), his gun still stained with the blood from Mare's gums, decided to sit down and wait. The game was just beginning, and when they turned their backs later in the night, it would be a perfect chance to make sure they all got, "died".
Because, perhaps more than anyone else, he simply wanted to go home.
Terry Klingerman (Girl #6) didn't consider herself a leader.
She related her life to those trivial and repetitive high school sitcoms she would watch on TV. There were the main characters, the highly paid actors, and in the background, there were extras that they just found off the street. They were the students who would just walk down the hallway, never becoming part of a scenario at all. Just faces, really.
That was what she wanted to be; something that nobody would look at and give a second thought.
It didn't matter what her classmates said her. She could have been a freak, a secluded basketcase, a self-mutilator, and even, as J.C had said, "a nutcase". She was all of those things, admittedly proud of it too, but she definitely wasn't a leader. It just wasn't something that a background extra like her was willing to do.
Still, as much as she hated to admit it, she had become the driving force of their trio.
Slouching against the counter of the small cottage, she stared at herself in the glass. After the massacre at the barn, Luke's confession, and wandering aimlessly for several hours, the three didn't have much of another place to spend the night other than the place that had been the final resting-place of their class president. Slouched beside the kitchen counter, Risa's corpse had began to loose its color from being motionless inside, and the once pretty complexion she had was drained from her face. Although Terry didn't want to look at it, half of her skin was gone too.
Terry stared into the window. Past the acne that she had gotten in the past several years and the knotted hair she hadn't bothered to comb, she wasn't a bad-looking girl: decent bone structure, pretty smile, nice eyes. However, beauty only blossomed if you took care of it and tamed it. In the past several years, Terry had completely let her life drop like a weight. It didn't matter. In the end, she had her reasons for letting herself become a mess of a life more than anybody.
"How many does that make?" Mitch asked.
Sitting against the counter, he was cringing as he treated the skin on his hand with ice. She had almost forgotten that a portion of the skin had been cut open by Risa's bullet, but considering how shallow it was, he was probably able to put up with it.
Terry paused for a second, calculating the question in her mind before she answered. "Twelve dead. Thirty to go".
"This is going slower than I thought. Luke fell asleep on the bed over there".
Terry nodded. After staring into space for awhile, thoughts probably running through his head, Luke had settled with the only suitable option of simply going to sleep to solve his problems. The worst part was that his sleep almost looked peaceful. It was almost sickening to watch.
Seeing the chance she had been waiting for, Terry shot Mitch a question when he was unprepared. "What's your favorite movie?"
Mitch groaned. "We did this before, remember?'
"Yeah, but you just made something up so you could get away with not telling me the truth. It's not that hard. Just pick out your favorite movie and tell me. I don't care what it is".
"Fine…I like war films I guess…I don't like the cliches though. I like the ones that have a point to prove in the end. Ever see Dr.Strangelove?'
"Bits and pieces". Terry said. "All I really know is that it's the movie where the guy is riding the missile into the ground". She glanced over at Luke sprawled on the bed, his face hidden as he curled up against the wall. She trusted him, just like she had forced herself to trust everyone else, but in general, he was a dead weight. She could respect him, kick her ass to feel sorry for him, even trust him, but there was no way she could build up any emotion toward him.
"Well", Mitch sighed. "I always walk out of movies like that feeling like I have to go out and do something important to help the world. I don't really think much past that, because soon, I just forget about the message and get wrapped up in something else. I like movies a lot though. Were you serious when you said the Shawshank Redemption earlier, or were you bullshitting?"
"I was honest", Terry replied. "I told you, I like stories about people escaping. It's just something I always wanted to do".
There was an awkward silence, only replaced by the occasional scream or unknown sound that echoed and faded outside. The night was on, and in the next six hours, the list of competitors would be reduced to practically half of its size. The numbers were steadily declining.
"I'm going to the bathroom, okay?"
Standing up, leaving Mitch to let his hand swell under the handmade ice pack, Terry walked past the snoring body of Luke Graystone and somehow managed to force her way into the incredibly cramped and low-leveled room that was supposedly the bathroom. Barely fitting inside, she managed to shut the door behind her.
Aside from a metal toilet, wooden walls, and a sink with a dirty mirror, the bathroom of their hideaway cottage seemed more like a prison. Glaring at her acne in the mirror, Terry started to stare herself down.
"Look at yourself, girl", she thought. "You're trying to pilot a ship that doesn't have an engine".
She thought of the way she had united Mitch and Luke to a common and vague goal of, "not fighting". Besides bullying that centered around her, Terry had never been able to unite anybody to do anything. In fact, until the program, she had hardly spoken a word to any of her classmates. After all, she was a background character after all. She refused to be involved with their problems, even though they were so involved in hers.
It had all started when her parents had stopped paying attention to her. It was hard to explain, but one day, they seemed to have simply decided to give up on life. Shortly before middle school started, her mother, who already had treated Terry like a speck of dust instead of a daughter, left. There wasn't any real reason; she just simply packed up her things and left without a trace or explanation. Terry had still had the pink balloon from the birthday incident where her mother hadn't picked her up, and after that, it was the only real piece of memorabilia she had left when her home had been somewhat of a whole. After that, it had just been her and the rest: her drop-out half brothers Dwayne and Ray, her college-bound and head-up-his-ass brother Brian, her baby brother Scott and the twins, and finally, her father who would rather sit on the couch laughing at racist comedians then support a family. The Klingerman household had, for no apparent reason, become a mess.
Staring at the mirror, Terry wouldn't back down. As much as she refused to admit it, she had created the person that she was staring at. She could lie to herself all the way through, but in the end, it was entirely her fault.
Five days later, the pink balloon had popped. Ten days after that, school had begun, and dellusioned and isolated from society, Terry had let herself go. She hadn't bothered with make-up. She hadn't combed her hair. She hadn't even showered. After all, if she let herself become a mess just like the world she was in, maybe somebody would actually talk to her instead of just ignore her. Instead, she had been dubbed a, "nutcase".
It had started with rubber bands snapping on her wrists. Then she had started burning her arm with a lighter. However, when the stress came, the only real way to get rid of it was to cut…and cut…and cut…
Not being able to look at herself in the mirror anymore, Terry dug her fingernails into her wrist in a shallow slit, giving her yet another self-inflicted scar on her arm. Satisfied, and quickly rolling up her sleeve, she walked back outside and closed the door behind her. All in all, she definitely wasn't a leader.
No Students Eliminated
30 Students Remaining