"This really sucks…"
Peter Juntz (Boy #9) mumbled these words under his breath as he swat at the low branches with the machete. The night was like walking through a sweltering cloud, and if the boy stood still, he felt certain that the gnats swarming through the hot forest would eat the skin off his bone. Still, trying to concentrate on the task at hand, the boy sliced another branch so the AMC Gremlin could get through.
All in all, things had definitely gone downhill in the last several hours. Motivated by the concept of rebellion, both he and Logan had launched themselves into their revolution without even thinking it through. Armed only with a map, a car, and a machete, they'd driven off into the woods with high hopes to show everyone that their exodus from hell was just around the corner. Instead, they'd simply created even more problems for themselves.
When Logan had gone over the details of her venture from the junkyard to their campsite, she'd left out a few crucial pieces of information. Due to the fact that her arm looked like a wet, bloody rag more than anything else, she'd used one hand to steer herself gently around the island. Slow transportation was a good decision if you simply needed to get somewhere, but upon actually driving the car at its full-speed, Peter became aware that the AMC Gremlin was impossible to drive. Along with braking every so often for no reason, it repeatedly ended up being dented against the trees. The fact that they weren't conversant with their surroundings made it even worse. He tried to be an optimist, he tried to keep himself determined, but without any other way to put it, it really did suck.
Wiping sweat from his brows, Peter sighed and trudged back to the car waiting just behind him with the machete swaying at his side. For a second he fumbled with the car handle, too exhausted to even think of how a device like it worked, but he forced his way in and fell into the driver's seat. God, this turning into a suicide mission for everyone, isn't it?
Glancing over, he looked at his traveling companion. Barely fitting in the passenger seat, the eyes of Logan Spruce (Girl #18) were studying the map laid out on her lap. He knew he should have been worried due to the fact that she admittedly had failed an exam on topographic maps, but considering how willing she seemed to do anything, he decided to put his faith in her.
"How's it going?" Logan asked.
"Could be better", Peter said as he pulled a water bottle out of his backpack. "You?"
"I think I have an idea where we are but we might have to backtrack. I'm trying to find a good route to some of the bigger buildings where people might be hiding. The lighthouse is on the northern shore over there and I think there's a sheriff's office nearby". She paused. "Do you know we're terrorists right now?"
Peter stared. "What?"
"We're terrorists. Anyone who attempts to disrupt the activity within a Battle Royale is a terrorist. At least that's what they say".
"I'm not a terrorist", Peter said.
"According to them, you are", Logan replied. "There's all of those terrorist organizations out there these days. The Banshees. Nine Lives. Wild Seven. They're all trying to make a point but all they're doing is hurting the world even more without even realizing it". She paused. "I think I had a cousin once. Ben. I don't remember him much but I remember exactly what happened to him. He was a really smart guy. He was always talking about all of these different colleges that he was applying to".
Peter raised an eyebrow. "What happened to him?"
"He had to write a final essay in his senior year about how the government keeps the country going in an orderly fashion".
"Did he get a good grade?" Peter said with a small smile. The idea that the country was forcing their opinions onto the youth in such a ridiculous way made him feel a little bit better
"No. Just the opposite actually. He took out a pen and wrote, "MY GOVERNMENT LIES", in big, red letters across the paper and turned it in. The moment he got home from school that day, he burned every brochure for every college that he applied to in the fire pit behind his house. Around the same time, his English teacher turned his essay into the police. They came to his house in the middle of the night and drafted him into the military. For all I know, he could have be one of the soldiers behind the computers in the school right now. We could end up blowing him up".
At the mention of the kamikaze, Peter felt humiliated at the fact that he was feeling uneasy about the whole thing. Talking about death like it was commonplace all day; the fact that he had planned his own suicide was dawning on him. After all, what reason was there for him dying other than making a point to himself? The idea that he could end up standing on the dirt mound, covered in explosives, and change his mind was like a nightmare running through his mind.
"That sucks about your cousin", Peter said as he took a swig from his water bottle. "I read a survey that said one in four kids in America these days either have a relative that was drafted into the military or died in the program".
"I've been thinking of the real reason behind all of this", she replied. "And it's not population control or keeping youth rebellion low. They're just trying to scare us".
"If they wanted to scare us", Peter said. "They would just exterminate us all in electric chairs. They wouldn't make us fight to the death like gladiators".
"They're trying to reinforce everything they're saying", Logan replied. "About life being a game and everyone needing to separate from each other to fight for survival. They're trying to keep everyone away from each other. It's sick".
"Yeah but-OH SHIT!"
It all happened so fast. Leaning over to far to reach for the map, he'd accidentally knocked the balanced water bottle off the glove compartment. Hitting the side of the steering wheel, the lightly screwed cap broke off and let all of the water drown the map on his lap. For a few seconds, he could only stare at the wet rag that had once been there only hope for survival. He picked it up from his lap slowly, peeling it up like a wet napkin. For a second he thought that it was a joke, almost God over Cuna Cielo playing a practical joke on them, but reality caught up really quickly when he noticed the worst part.
"The Danger Zones!" Peter cried.
All of the coordinates and zones that he had been careful to copy were nothing more than runny ink on the paper. He tried to read them, but it was hopeless. The entire map had been drenched.
"Fuck..." Peter moaned as he slammed his head into the steering wheel. "Fuck!"
"It's okay", Logan said awkwardly. "We're okay".
Peter's eyes filled with rage. "How can you say that! How can you keep saying we're okay when we're getting closer to death every second? How can you possibly find anything happy in something like this! We're not okay! Admit it!" He felt tears falling down his face. Not willing to make eye contact with the girl, he sighed and stared down at the steering wheel. "Everyone always looks up to me to come up with a plan. I always have to be the one that has to get everyone out of trouble just because they think I know what I'm doing. The more I think about it, the only reason I'm so willing to die is so they'll have some other reason to like me besides being the cross-dresser who knows how to make explosives. They'll remember me as a person and not some kind of hero figure. I really, really don't want to be the revolutionary, Logan. I just want to save the people I care about and make a point in this fucked up world. Why the hell does everyone have to over-analyze everyone?"
He half-expected Logan to yell furiously at him, but instead, she wasn't even making eye contact with him anymore. She was staring at the steering wheel. Not just the steering wheel, but the device that could be activated by pressing in on the center of it.
"Peter, I respect everything that you just said", Logan said. To his surprise she was smiling. "And I think the real heroes are made by people who are like us who are just trying to make a little bit of a difference. But I have an idea".
Almost instantly, Peter realized what the fat girl was thinking of. Covering the steering wheel's horn with his arms, he glanced in panic at her.
"That's suicide!" he cried. "We'll send everyone on the island that's playing the game over here!"
"Or", Logan replied. "We could get help".
"It's just a death wish! We're going to end up getting ourselves killed! The only people who might be willing to come are the twins, and there's no way I'm risking their lives because we made a stupid mistake!"
"Peter, we're stranded in the middle of nowhere without a map", she continued. "For all we know, one step into the wrong sector could blow both of our heads off. If we don't get ourselves out of here, nobody's going to end up escaping. Calling for help is the only shot we've got. We're okay. Don't forget that. Even if you think we aren't, we are"
Peter paused. Feeling the world on his shoulders, he glanced around. At the branches they were unable to cut through. At the ruined, watery map. At Logan's confident eyes that looked terrified at the same time. It was a risk. On the other hand, it was the risk that was the only choice they had. A call for rebellion only needed a voice to be spoken. And then there was that sickly chance of them ending up on the next announcement.
But still…
"Peter?"
"Do it", the boy ordered.
Closing her eyes, Logan slammed a mighty hand into the center of the steering wheel and honked the horn. The sound blared across the entire island, alerting everyone of their presence. Even when an eerie dead silence followed, she didn't stop honking.
Luke Graystone (Boy #5) was relatively certain he was going to die.
He was having a hard time accepting it but the facts had been evident from the beginning. With a scrawny figure that looked like a good gust of wind would knock him over and a permanently frightened look on his face, he knew he should have been easy picking in the Battle Royale from the very beginning. It's going to happen any minute. Why aren't I dead already?
If there was one thing that was wrong with the boy, it was his inability to think for himself. In the face of chaos, he simply went with the side that kept him alive longer. It wasn't a question of morals. It was a question of life or death. If something was guaranteed to kill him, he stayed away. If something was guaranteed to save his life, he sided with it in an instant. Admittedly, he was a coward.
Laying on the cot in the hut and staring at the ceiling, he had half-listened for the last several hours to Mitch and Terry talking. As far as they were aware he was sleeping and as far as he was aware, they were both becoming the one-way ticket to his downfall. All through the day, the boy had had aspirations. One had been bashing in Mitch's head with a frying pan when they in the hut earlier. The other had been shooting Terry in the back when they were walking in the meadow.
But he didn't. If there was one thing Luke had learned to value in his complicated life, it was human nature. Even if the paths people took didn't make any sense, they were still human. People did awful things to each other. They betrayed each other. They lied to each other. In his case, they even condoned each other to death. But they were still human.
"I'm not a murderer", the boy thought stiffly.
Luke's entrance into the harsh world of Battle Royale had actually begun roughly four months prior to everyone else. Every so often, he would still have nightmares about walking through the parking lot with the slip with his name on it in hand. The empty sign-up bucket had been sitting on the counter of the grocery store. Walking in, the boy had dropped in his name and taken one of the forms. It hadn't been an emotional moment. In fact, there had been no depth to it whatsoever. He'd signed up and left. Great. Just like the doctor said.
He'd considered not coming to school on that fateful morning four months later. He really had. Tossing and turning in his bed the night before, he'd thought of documentaries on television about the program. When students on the final roster were absent, an all-out manhunt began that almost always resulted in the soldiers kidnapping or occasionally executing any runaway students. Terrified out of his mind, Luke had showed up.
And then he had been rendered comatose with a sleeping agent and become Boy #5
The next few hours had moved in a series of macabre snap shots. Smashing a Bible into Mitch's face and failing to rob him of his weapon. Dashing around the island and hearing gunshots that all seemed to be targeting him. Risa's corpse smiling that evil smile in the hut. Three nameless dead girls in the barn. The confession in the meadow…
The meadow…
That was when a few lies had slipped in. He hadn't meant to lie. He had just wanted to earn enough sympathy for them to stop Mitch from tearing at his throat for signing them up whenever he got the chance. His father hadn't harbored cocaine. In truth, the family business crab fishing business had gone bankrupt and his father had left both his family and the island due to his inability to make ends meet. Luke had always pictured his father as a spitting image of him: a coward who ran from his troubles. His mother had eventually pulled together enough money for them to relocate to
Mitch refused to trust anyone while Terry blindly put faith in everyone. Both paths, as the form they had given him had said, would lead to death. Not only their deaths, but his death as well. He pictured them like an anchor, dragging him farther and farther down until he wouldn't be able to get back up. It was true that they deserved to live, but after all, the survival instinct. Luke didn't just regret signing up. If he had the chance, he would have gone back the day he walked across that parking lot and shot himself in the head right there. At least that way he wouldn't have to deal with the guilt.
"They're going to end up killing me", he thought. "They don't have the first clue of what to do out here. Then again, look at yourself"
And that was when Luke, along with practically every competitor on the island, heard the car horn.
It honked loud and clear, startling everyone in the hut and nearly making them all jump out of their skins. It didn't stop there either. Over and over, the sound blared across the island frantically. This wasn't an accident of someone accidentally running into a car either. As it honked over and over again and didn't stop, it only became clear that it was an attempt to rally everyone together. It was the beginning of a riot.
"It's a call for rebellion", Terry said in awe. "They're trying to get everyone together".
"It's not just any call for rebellion either", Mitch said as he hopped off the counter with Risa's pistol. "It's Peter".
"You sure? It could just be some maniac with a car".
"A maniac wouldn't have the common sense to keep honking the horn to get everyone together. If they really needed to kill everyone, they would go out and do it". He paused. "And there's only one person on this entire island who's either brave or stupid enough to do something like this".
"Peter?" Terry asked.
"Well, I'm not going to wait around for the next three days wondering if we all could have gotten away or not".
Shaking his hair, the boy made sure the pistol was loaded and began to walk hurriedly to the door that opened to the porch. He gave what looked like a cross between a grimace and a nod at Luke before turning away. To Luke, he looked like he was fully aware of how much of a risk they were taking.
Packing up her bag on the counter, Terry gave a sigh and swung it over her shoulders. She stood there for a second, contemplating how much of a chance they had of the call for rebellion really being what they thought it was. Then, biting her lip, she followed suit with Mitch and began to walk toward the front door. Halfway there though, she stopped and glanced at the boy laying on the cot.
"Coming Luke?" she asked with a forced smile.
Luke stared at the frizzy-haired girl with his life rolling behind him like dark wave. It was like being offered a death wish. They're going to kill me. They're going to end up doing something stupid that will get me killed. Humans are still humans. Even if the things they do are awful they're still human. Why do I have to die just because I made a stupid mistake? God, I have to do something. I'm going to have to.
"Sure", he responded. "I'll be right there".
Trudging through the forest in the night, Jude Mercedes (Boy #11) clearly heard the call for rebellion sent by Logan Spruce (Girl #18) and Peter Juntz (Boy #9). However, considering his very contrasting opinions about what the game stood for compared to the occupants of the AMC Gremlin, he chose to ignore it. Besides, he was entertaining himself.
Interesting.
That was all the boy could think as he flipped through the pages of charred files he'd found earlier. From medical to police records, every single meaningless fact about every other competitor seemed to be etched out on the paper before him. At first he'd viewed all of his classmates as similar, all working behind the curtain like mindless cogs to grow up into society, but he'd been wrong. Adrienne suffered from paranoid schizophrenia and delusions. Mae had been a child prodigy already looking into colleges. Terry was under what seemed like a bucketful of different medications. Mare had been sent to juvenile hall for involvement in a crime that he couldn't quite put together.
As his father would say, the papers were, "fuel". Fuel for his mind to wreck havoc on everyone else in the game. Jude preferred not to think about his father very often, seeing as he hated him just as much as he was a role model, but all in all, he was truly a mysterious person. In fact, he wasn't even his biological father. Jude's mother had been pregnant with triplets and alone in the world when she had fallen in love with a wealthy, respected psychologist. The man had been perfect for her. Handsome and charismatic, he seemed to know just the right thing to say to convince her to invite him into her broken life. That should have been her first clue.
The moment Jude, Prudence, and Sadie were born, the man had elevated Jude's mother's spirits even more by being an ideal father figure. Feeling like an angel had sent the man both her and her children, she was oblivious to the fact that things were far from perfect. She was unaware of the man's true intentions and the fact that a perfect family was the last thing on his mind.
As Jude grew older, the man became a more prominent and vocal figure in his life. He was a political loudmouth, always talking about whatever he felt wrong in the country. A young boy, Jude absorbed it all and never considered where the information was coming from. However, sometimes the man's opinions were almost frightening. He talked about how the country was killing itself and the end of the world was approaching. When Jude wanted to go outside, his father would put an icy hand on his shoulder and tell him that there was no time to play. He needed to learn.
The lessons began.
Jude's father hadn't wanted a family. For a reason he would never know, the man had simply wanted to warp the mind of a child. Taking him into his bedroom every day after school, he taught him about the inner workings of the human mind. How to manipulate others to your liking. How to see an entire life story just on a person's face. How people were becoming more and more wasteful every day. Jude grew out of childhood quickly because of those tutoring sessions. Learning everything there was to know about anything, he'd prided himself on knowing he could control anyone he wanted too.
"It's like chess", his father had said. "It's all a game. If you want to get what you want, you have to strategize. Take out the pawns".
Mae and Demi. They had both been pawns. Viewing them like fresh meat instead of people, he'd forced himself into not feeling guilty when he finished off both of them. Guilt would just slow him down. Considering how Demi's name had not been in an announcement, he prided himself on the fact that she was probably suffering. He pictured the girl in the pile of her bloody intestines, growing paler and paler at every second. Both of these girls, in his eyes, had most likely never played chess.
Shuffling through the packet of secrets as he walked, he was thankfully able to stop thinking about his life when he realized that he had a file too. Rummaging through the packet of burned paper, he scanned the faces of the boring people and quickly flipped to his. A red-haired boy with hollow eyes staring into a camera lens. Ignoring the things he didn't want to read, the boy picked out random information. Jude Randall Mercedes. Boy #11. Born on November 10th. Directly related to competitors Girl #8 and Girl #9. So this is all there is? No signs of being withdrawn? No medical reports? No signs of the incident? You hurt me bad, Dad. That thing with the cashier this summer. You got yourself into prison and left me to pick up the piece-
Walking through the wet mud, Jude's inner monologue was halted abruptly when he slipped.
He struggled to balance himself, but with his hands flailing in the air, he tumbled down the wet slope in front of him. Smelling the stench of insects, mud, and acidic moss, he noted the fact that he was now in the center a bog. Feeling the world had turn-upside down and listening to the crickets, the boy couldn't help but feel humiliated. Playing the game all day, it was embarrassing that his first mistake had been tripping and falling on his face. No more mistakes. You can't be like the rest of them.
Glancing up, Jude was only dimly aware of the shadowy figure that was now glancing down on him. At one point it had been Eddie Dunnerman (Boy #4), but now, it looked like a train wreck. Along with the fact that his nose was off center and his face was soaked in blood, his shirt had been stripped off and he was shivering in the cold. The look in his eyes was more of pity than authority.
"I'm sorry, man", Eddie whimpered. "but you're going to have to come with me..".
Sniffling, Eddie grasped Jude's leg with a powerful arm and began to drag him through the mud. The sharp rocks and bark sliced his arm, ripping his left sleeve cleanly from his shirt. Feeling the rocks becoming sparse, he realized he was being dragged into an open clearing. A dense knoll populated by wet, sunken-in land and morass trees, it looked like the one part of the island that time had forgot. As Eddie pulled him into the bog sobbing, Jude instantly took notice of the figure standing at the forest's edge. He held a sniper rifle carefully on Eddie, apparently sentient to the fact that the boy would run away at any chance he got.
"Who'd you bring?" Chris Barrister (Boy #2) barked. He was now aiming the sniper rifle directly at his lackey's head, but seeing how undaunted he looked, Jude guessed that this was something he was something he had grown accustomed to.
"Look yourself", Eddie said dully.
Pushing his friend out of the way, Chris peered down at his new captive. At the same time, Jude surveyed him right back. Piecing together both memories from school and his file, he put together what he knew. He plays varsity because his dad is the coach. Thinks he's a ladies man. Probably get's pressure into doing well at home.
"You're the Mercedes kid!" Chris concluded. "The freak!'
"Everyone's a bit of a freak around these parts", Jude said. "but to go by your terms, I suppose I am".
Clearly not expecting this sort of answer, Chris glared and pushed the rifle directly down onto Jude's head. Knowing showing any reaction would only satisfy the boy, Jude merely kept staring.
"Everyone's got a smart mouth around here", Chris snapped. "Everyone thinks they can take control just because they feel like it. You see that pothead lying over there? He had a smart mouth. Look what happened to him".
Glancing over in the mud, Jude became aware that the foul smell of the bog was not only coming from the acidic water. The corpse of Rory North (Boy #13) was lying beside one of the morass trees, the wetness from the quagmire eating away at his eggshell of a face. Along with the departed competitor, he also took notice that there were other captives in the body. All circled around the body and tied down with what looked like duct tape and ripped clothing were Zane Barrens (Boy #1), Roxy Patterson (Girl #12), and Preston Tracy (Boy #18). They were all staring at him. Not remembering anything interesting enough from their files to care, Jude turned his focus back to Chris.
"You murdered him? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"
"Damn right I murdered him!" Chris roared. "And I'll do the same to you if you don't learn to shut your mouth!"
"How did murder make you feel though?" Jude said with wide eyes. "My experiences were rather disappointing to say the least. I expected more of a feeling from it. I didn't feel any guilt afterwards. No pride. No emotion. All I saw was that I was staring at blood".
"Chris, maybe you should just stop", Eddie said worriedly. "You shouldn't be messing around with someone like him. I think we should just let him go and let him mind his own business".
"You think you know what you're talking about", Chris snapped. "You suddenly think just because someone told you that what you've been doing is wrong that you should run away. All of that good-natured philosophical bullshit? You don't need to swallow any of it, Eddie. What's the reason we were brought here today?"
"To kill eachother, Chris…"
"And in the name of our fathers who fought for our American freedom, we're going to do just that. Tie him up, Eddie. One more slip-up and you're going to be keeping the stoner company". Looking up at the linebacker's face, he grinned. "Your nose isn't looking too good".
Muttering something unintelligible under his breath, Eddie grabbed Jude's leg again and began to drag him toward the others near the sunken-in tree. Although he could only see the back of the boy's bloody head, Jude made sure to keep notes in his mind. Linebacker on the football team. Not that bright. He wants to get out of here as soon as possible.
"I'm really sorry", Eddie said with a whimper. "but I just don't want to get hurt…"
Reaching the tree beside the others, he let Jude fall to the ground. Not seeming to care that the boy wasn't resisting at all, he tore hard at Jude's left sleeve still clinging to his shirt. Wrapping it in a tight knot around the boy's chest, binding him to the tree and almost choking him, Eddie limped away still sobbing like there was no tomorrow.
"Things are going to get very interesting around here", Jude thought placidly.
He was fully aware of the other captives still staring at him and whispering, but at that point, he was in no position to care. Glancing around, he took notice of all of them. Not just the people, but the life stories that could be told from their faces. The faces that very soon would tear each other apart.
Chris expression showing his fear of losing control at any second
Preston's eyes telling years of unrealized anger boiling inside him
Eddie's bloody ghost of a face showing how desperate he was to survive.
Zane slowly coming to the realization that anger wasn't going to get him anywhere
Roxy's blank grimace letting him know that she didn't know what to believe in anymore
And the boy that had been shrouded in the bushes for hours, fidgeting with the pistol in his hands and ready to strike at any moment…
Jude looked around, thanked his father, and set his mind to work.
Sadie Mercedes (Girl #9) wanted to believe in the call for rebellion. In fact, if it weren't for the two persistent factors that were holding her captive in the diner, she would have ran to whoever was brave enough to make the call with open arms. In spite of this, she knew that no matter how hard she could try to deceive herself, the two factors would restrain her from leaving.
The first factor was Prudence. Spending the majority of the day becoming a paranoid mess, she'd gone over lists of classmates that, "they should be watching out for". It didn't seem to have occurred to her to the girl that she'd named nearly everyone else in the entire class. The idea of her accepting an unanimous call that could be anything was almost laughable.
And then there was the second factor…
Glancing quickly at the sleeping body of Lea Passington (Girl #11) on the kitchen floor, Sadie shuddered and turned away. It was intimidating enough being in a room with a murderer, but the fact that Lea mumbled in her sleep made it even worse. Some of the sentences she'd said hadn't made sense, some had been frightening, and most of them had just been strange. Doing the best she could to ignore their hostage, Sadie glanced out the window of the diner wistfully. There were hunters in the trees. That she was sure of. People that she had once considered her friends at that very moment were watching each other bleed to death. The fact that everything had become so accepted made the girl feel even worse. You have to stop trying to convince yourself girl. Things aren't ever going to go back.
Aside from the horn though, not much had changed in the diner in the last several hours aside from the fact that it was now booming with rock music from the jukebox. In an attempt to raise Sadie's spirits, Prudence had returned after rummaging through the cellar with a dusty Billy Joel album. As her sister returned to the cellar to take a nap, Sadie had slid in the record and, "Only The Good Die Young", had started playing. Realizing the horrible irony of the song, Sadie had been devastated when she realized that she didn't know how to turn off the ancient jukebox. Billy Joel has stayed.
"So come on Virginia show me a sign", the record screeched. "Send up a signal I'll throw you the line".
"I have to get out of here", Sadie thought. "All we're doing here is sitting duck and waiting to think of a good idea. People are waiting for us out there. C'mon Pru. You were always the one with ideas. Then again, look at Nicole. She was a thinker too".
Glancing back at the girl on the floor, Sadie's heart skipped a beat when she realized she was stirring. Opening her eyes, Lea glanced around for a moment like she had no clue what was going on. With recognition returning, she sat up from the floor groaning as she rubbed her head.
"Billy Joel?" the girl in a groggy voice.
"Yeah…", Sadie responded. "It was the only music we found down in the cellar that was almost from this century".
She refused to let herself make eye contact with the girl. Part of it was that she was still soaked in dried blood and grime, clearly showing what she'd been up to all day, but the other part was the truth
"You don't want to talk to me", Lea noted.
Sadie raised an eyebrow. "You've killed two people. Maybe more. I think not wanting to speak to a murderer is pretty damned justified".
"When two people are in a room", the girl responded. "It's human nature that they'll want to talk to each other. I don't think anything about their backgrounds or morals should come into question. It's healthy to socialize". She paused. "Where's the other one?'
"Prudence is sleeping downstairs is in the cellar", Sadie said. "Not calling her by her name doesn't make you seem high and mighty, you know".
"So let me get this straight", Lea said with a grin. "Your sister left you alone in the kitchen here with the, "maniacal psychopath", just so she could get herself a cat nap?"
Sadie couldn't help but smile back. "Look at your wrists".
Instant humiliation hit the girl's eyes when she glanced down at her arms. Tied around the handle of a cupboard, they were wrapped tightly together with what appeared to be plastic strippings from the end of a rake. And in the freshman class of Spanish Rivers High, there was only one girl who was strong enough to tear apart a rake.
"Your sister ties a good knot", Lea complimented as she tugged at her bindings. She could move her hands freely, but her palms had definitely lost blood flow from the tightness. "It's a Palomar if I'm not mistaken. Very powerful. Good for fishing hooks".
"I thought I said that I wasn't going to talk to you, Lea", Sadie snapped.
"Why is that, Sadie? Is it because you find my motives confusing? Is it because you can't stand looking into the eyes of someone who knows what they're doing?"
"No, it's actually because I think you're a complete sociopath. And if you knew what you were doing, I don't think you'd be held captive here".
Lea laughed. "I can leave any time I want. I'm enjoying myself here to be honest". She tugged at her bindings again. "Your sister seems to care a lot about you".
"What's your point?"
"Nothing. I'm just trying to grasp how it feels to know that someone is completely willing to take a bullet for you when all you're willing to do is walk over to a toilet and vomit your dinner out".
Sadie glared. "Are you questioning if I love my sister or not?"
"No. I just don't think you'd be able to die for her like she would for you. If she was bleeding on the ground and asking you to finish her off, I think you would run to save your own hide". She smiled brightly. "But that's just my personal prerogative".
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?" Sadie snapped.
"Well, in case you haven't noticed", Lea replied. "I actually wasn't much of a social butterfly back at our high school. I spent most of my time reading. It's great fun. No matter how many times I read the words, all of the characters added up the same. There's so much you can learn from books, Sadie. Our government doesn't like us reading books because they give us ideas. But I read about it all. Society. Culture. I even read about religion sometimes to give myself a good laugh".
With a sigh, Sadie let her head rest beside the window. Along with having a thumping migraine in her head to add to her list of problems, she wasn't in the mood to listen to Lea. Her constant nit-picking at everything known to man was bad enough, but what aggravated her most about the girl was that her philosophies almost made sense. Before she had fallen asleep, she'd let her mind out about their government, Sadie's anorexia, their education system, and most disturbingly, their school and classmates. It was enough to make her head spin.
"Could you get me a glass of water, Sadie?" Lea asked.
"They gave us all water bottles".
"Well, I would still have mine if your sister didn't confiscate everything I worked for in this game. I'm asking for a glass of water. It's not much".
"If I give it to you will you shut up?"
Lea smirked. "Gladly".
Glancing into the girl's eyes, Sadie surveyed her. Her request was casual. There wasn't any deep meaning behind it. She just wanted a glass of water. Getting up from her perch and shaking her sleeping legs she walked, she hopped down from the counter.
Lea's words weren't what was making her feel hopeless. If anything, it was the entire situation dawning on her at once. Being a Mercedes had always been people judging you. Instead of being a ditzy blonde girl who starved herself at high school, what was stopping her from being one of the revolutionaries that made a difference in the game. What was stopping her from being somebody who went out into the battlefield and stitched wounds instead of fleeing to save her own hide? Sadie didn't want to die. That was assured. She didn't want to be a hero either. If anything, she wanted to make it clear that the government had taken too much. They'd censored their music, burned their books, and even begun to kill their friends. Nicole had always said that people really defined themselves when their friend's lives were on the line instead of their own. Full of thoughts in her aching head when she reached the sink, Sadie considered telling Prudence about the car horn again. Then her mind laughed at her.
"People take advantage of you", Lea said as she almost read her mind.
Rummaging through the cabinet above the sink, Sadie rolled her eyes. "You don't know the half of it".
"Actually", Lea said. "I have a pretty good idea".
It all happened so fast. The moment Sadie turned on the cold faucet, Lea kicked out her feet hard into the side of her legs. Toppling over, the frail girl made a surprisingly loud thud as she hit the kitchen floor on her knees. In a daze, she wasn't even able to comprehend what had happened before Lea struck again. Swinging back her forehead, she bashed it hard into Sadie's face. Instantly seeing what looked like bright headlights flash in front of her face, she felt warm and wet blood drip from her nose. You just had to listen to her, didn't you girl?
Bawled over on the floor and struggling to process what had just happened, Sadie was hardly aware of what had had happened when she fell. Swinging out her hands to balance herself, she'd banged herself hard into the counter and sent a vibration throughout the whole kitchen. With that the handsaw they had put out of Lea's reach had clattered noisily to the floor. The girl's face was delighted at this, clearly showing that it had been exactly what she wanted. Fumbling to pick up the handsaw in her tied hands, she started cutting.
Sadie's mind screamed at her to fight back, but despite the anger she felt, she couldn't. Even with adrenaline coursing through her, it was like invisible hands were on her shoulder. In Battle Royale, revolutionaries became conformists, thugs became peace-makers, but girls who spent their Friday nights vomiting out their dinner didn't become fighters. Nicole was wrong. It wasn't that she didn't want to take up the gauntlet against someone who had attacked her, but in a situation where she knew she would lose, she just couldn't force herself to do it. As customarily, Sadie took the pain.
"PRUDENCE!"
Howling out her sister's name, Sadie quickly mopped the warm blood off her face and dashed through the kitchen's doorway. In the corner of her eye, Lea was sawing away at her bindings. Weaving through the booths and tables, past the neon lights proclaiming, "Maury's Diner", and listening to the jukebox mock her, she sprinted toward the door that led to the cellar. Praying the knot her sister had tied with the plastic would prove tight enough, she practically through herself into the wooden door. Almost forgetting how something as simple as door knobs could work in the panic, she slammed her fists on the door.
"PRUDENCE! SHE'S OUT! SHE GOT OU-
With the sound of swishing air followed by a dull thud, she glanced up to see a handsaw embedded in the wooden door. Spinning around, she stared at horror at the diminutive figure of Lea Passington (Girl #11) standing in the kitchen doorway. Looking practically infernal with dried blood and grime covering her sweater and her assigned golf club in her hands, the girl looked with eyes that seemed to melt through her. There was circlet of plastic still around her wrist, but in the end, that didn't matter. Sawing through the handsaw with her manacled hands had obviously not been a big problem. She was out.
"You", Lea said. "Blame yourself for your own problems and hold yourself back from doing everything. You want people to feel bad for you, but in the end, all you're doing is hurting yourself by vomiting out your stomach into a toilet". She pointed an accusing golf club at her. "You, my dear classmate, are a weed".
Shaking with vehemence, the girl charged forward as she swung back the golf club. Suddenly finding everything in her body working perfectly, Sadie grabbed the door knob and swung the door to the cellar open. Running down the dark staircase, she didn't have time to slam the door before Lea whirled her golf club like a baseball bat. The blow narrowly missed her head as she threw herself down to the cold floor.
The cellar was musty and stacked with boxes of packaged food and junk. Rows and rows of sandbags lined the walls, bolted with wooden bars. It was clear that whoever had owned the diner had been a pack rat. Feeling lost in the dark room, Sadie's eyes found her sister. She was lying on a makeshift cot of sandbags in the corner. Perry's shotgun was curled up next to her like a dream catcher warding off bad spirits.
"PRUDENCE!"
The girl awoke instantly. Opening her eyes, she looked around with the same uncertainty that Lea had arisen. The drowsiness instantly wore off when her eyes took a good look around.
"SADIE, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?" she screamed.
"I LET HER OUT!" Sadie shrieked. "I'M SORRY! I'M SO SORRY!"
Prudence's eyes widened "SADIE, LOOK OUT!"
Before she even processed that her sister had spoke, a golf club smashing into the side of her head sent her collapsing to the floor of the cellar. Feeling her right ear ringing in agony and knowing she would probably be deaf, she miraculously dodged Lea's second blow by rolling to her side in pain. She bubbled out blood from her mouth. In the midst of the chaos, all she could see was brief snap-shots of what was probably going on. Everything on the right side of her face turning red. Lea preparing to grind her head into the floor. Billy Joel blaring out of the jukebox upstairs.
"This is really it", the girl thought placidly. "This is my time".
Suddenly, the sound of rapid gunfire entered the small room followed by Lea howling in pain. Prudence was standing up from the cot, firing away at the small girl with a look of fierce determination. Although one of the bullets had grazed her face rather badly, Lea had somehow emerged unscathed from the gunfire. If there was one thing that the shotgun had proved useful for though, it was a free opportunity: Lea's golf club had clattered to the floor when the bullet hit her face.
Reaching out her trembling fingers, Sadie grabbed the golf club and hugged it close to her. She knew she was immobile to do anything other than pray, but the least she could do was keep Lea from injuring her even more. With Lea sputtering out blood from her bleeding face, Sadie watched as her sister took the chance and rushed over to her with the shotgun. Angling the barrel with her head, Lea's face didn't change at all as Prudence prepared to pull the trigger.
"Shoot me", she hissed through the blood. "Go ahead".
Rolling forward, the girl ended up saving herself the new line of bullets by letting them graze down her back. The pain looked unbearable and the girl's face looked beyond agony, but this seemed like just what she had planned. Rolling under Prudence's legs, she dug her fingers hard into the muscular girl's stomach and sent her tumbling backwards into the wall. Sitting there for a second, the girl looked oblivious to what had just happened. For a second, Sadie didn't understand either. And then it all came together.
"You put up a good fight", Lea's cold voice said.
Forcing her bleeding body up from the ground, Lea reached a shaking hand up and pulled the board from the row of sandbags. With all of the heavy sacks crushing to the floor, Prudence was instantly buried under all of the weight. One bag hit the back of her neck hard, pushing her head forward and causing her to vanish completely under the beige sacks. Unable to tell if her sister could breathe or if she was even still alive, Sadie cursed herself for even considering fetching Lea a glass of water.
"Get up, Prudence", she whispered softly. "C'mon…'
The bags didn't move. Either unconscious or dead, the girl lay buried under the heavy sacks and cemented to the cold floor. It was a strange feeling. In different parts of the world, people were laughing. Other people were talking cheerfully to each other. How could they all be unaware of what was happening?
"I'd like to congratulate your sister", Lea said. "She put up a good fight. You on the other hand, are a different story. You'd be a good example to sets for the others. In fact, I have an idea".
Grabbing the bleeding girl by the loop of her jeans, she turned her attention toward the staircase and started dragging her. Surprisingly strong for a girl of her size, Lea dragged Sadie up the steps like a rag doll. Her head thudded the rungs, knocking her mind senselessly. Feeling memories bounce back and forth, she saw brief snippets of her life. Elementary school birthday parties. Family gatherings. Rock concerts. One-hit wonders she'd heard on the radio. Dad in jail. Battle Royale. Nicole. Dirt. Blood. Sandbags.
As Lea reached the final step, Sadie had a sudden realization. She didn't have to die. She didn't feel like dying. So why did she have to? What was stopping her from saving her own hide? Was it repressed memories? Was it Nicole's peaceful philosophies being buried alive along with her? Whatever any philosophy said, this was life or death. Struggling to see through the blood, a hard bump on her spine told her that they'd reached the final floor of the steps.
"Hey bitch", Sadie spat.
Not knowing if Lea turned to look at her, Sadie dug her fingernails into the floor. The pain was immense and one nail even cleanly tore off from her finger, but she was able to pull herself across the waxy floor. Clinging her hand onto one of the booth's legs for dear life, she managed to shake herself from Lea's grasp. Fightherfightherfighther…
If their former captive was angry about her prey escaping, she didn't show it. Lea swung the golf club in a full arc, taking out half of the lights in the neon sign over the counter that proclaimed, "Maury's Diner". With electricity and metal shrapnel flying in every direction, Sadie ducked for her life from both the golf club and exploding sign. Taking her chance in the chaos (and praying Lea was as disoriented as she was) she turned around on the floor and began crawling down the aisle of tables. Feeling like she was running to light at the end of the tunnel, the girl ended up on her knees. Then one foot. Limping out of the diner with every pore of her body screaming in pain, she ended up on both legs by the time she reached the front door. Unaware of where Lea was, Sadie did her best not to scream and limped out into the night.
"Get to the forest", she thought. "Ignore the hunters. Just get out of here. Fight for yourself"
In truth, Sadie made it roughly ten feet away from the woods before she felt something fiery slice itself into her back. At first she thought she had been shot, but when she finally made out the feeling of the shape imbedded in her back, she felt like fainting. A handsaw that had been sent through the air like a javelin all the way from the diner's doorway. It had imbedded itself through her skin.
Howling in despair, the ground met Sadie faster than she could breathe. With no more than three soft footsteps stomping through the mud, Lea's shadow rushed over to her. The girl was smiling. There was no way she could see her with her face buried in the earth, but she knew she was smiling. Reaching down with her brittle hands, she removed the handsaw with a delicate slicing sound that rang down Sadie's spine. Then the club's shadow rose into the air.
"It's over", she thought in a daze. "You tried, but it's over".
Lea swayed the golf club into the air, ready to angle down on Sadie's head in a bone-shattering crunch. Closing her eyes, she prepared herself for the blow that would end her life. It didn't happen.
The front doors of the diner crashed open.
Charging out into the night with a shotgun and a face soaked in blood, Prudence Mercedes (Girl #8) looked like a macabre war veteran. With her signature bandanna tied around her stringy, bloody hair, it looked like traces of her former self were trying to show through. Snarling like a wild animal, the girl fired the weapon so rapidly that it was unclear who or what was getting hit.
Seeing the bullets fire in every direction, Lea didn't take to claim her third victim. Muttering something under her breath that Sadie couldn't understand, she took off into the woods with the golf club slung over her back and the handsaw swinging in her hand. Vanishing into the forest like the trees had engulfed her, she was gone. Gone to play the game. Gone to claim more victims. And it was all Sadie's fault.
Sighing into the mud, the girl realized part of her actually wanted to get up. Turning her head, she realized that Prudence was no longer standing in the doorway. She had vanished back into their hideaway. Forcing herself up onto her knees, she took inventory. Her right ear was ringing. Slapping her head against it, she got nothing. Deaf in one ear. Bringing up her fingers to her mouth, she withdrew several white stones. Missing a few teeth. Not willing to check the rest of the causality list, especially the newly acquired handsaw wound in her back, the frail girl somehow forced herself to get up. She was alive, that was assured, but in the end, she really didn't feel anything like she did before.
Limping back into the diner, the first thing she noticed was that the neon sign was flickering out on itself. With flailing plugs and electricity in every second, it looked like it would go out at any minute. She found Prudence right away. Sitting in one of the front booths, she was pressing her bandanna against her head in an effort to cushion the bleeding. The sandbags had done a great deal of damage to her head. As Sadie sat down next to her, she didn't even try to make eye contact. She just stared out into space.
"You can start the whole speech about not trusting anyone now", Sadie said softly.
Glancing up at her sister, Prudence looked at her like she'd just seen a ghost. She didn't respond.
"Someone was calling everyone together earlier", Sadie continued. "I decided it was best not to wake you up. I think I saw some kind of first-aid kit in the kitchen when I was rummaging through the drawers. We-
"Sadie", Prudence said. "I think I can say for sure now that every last one of us is going to die".
An awkward silence followed Prudence's revelation. Half-expecting Lea to barge back in and hack them to bits, the two girls of the Mercedes clan found themselves oddly comforted. Even with the distressing news they had just revealed to themselves, the idea that both of them had survived their first true battle in the game was a good feeling. A strange feeling that questioned what the Battle Royale was really about, but a good feeling nonetheless.
"What time is it?" Sadie asked softly.
Prudence checked her watch. "Almost midnight. One day down, two to go".
As the final neon light went out in a spark of fire, plunging the sisters into darkness, they could only listen to the less than comforting voice of Billy Joel carry them into the second day of the Battle Royale.
"For things that you may have done…
Well, only the good die young…"
No Students Eliminated
29 Students Remaining