Kevin Entwhistle (Boy 5, Ravenclaw) wished that he had a mint of some kind to get the foul taste of gasoline out of his mouth. After carefully searching through the garages in the residential section for a container of gas, he came to the realization that the only way to get the needed gasoline was to siphon it out of a car. He glared at Stephen Cornfoot (Boy 3, Ravenclaw), who was chuckling softly at him.
Kevin shrugged, and crossed 'gasoline' off of his list. His plan was rather desperate, and perhaps not very carefully thought out, but if it worked, they would all be home free. He had thought that finding rope long enough would be a problem, but he had found some stashed away in one of the garages rather early on. Now they had all the things they needed.
He picked up the canister of gasoline he had just filled, and set it down with the other items he had gathered earlier. Stephen continued to watch him, staying silent.
Kevin's Aunt Lorelei had belonged to an anti-government resistance group years ago. Before she died, she had imparted as much knowledge as she could to her young nephew, just in case he might need it. Amongst that knowledge were a few good recipes.
He wasn't a fool, though. He knew that there were probably ways for Montgomery and his goons to listen in on what they were saying. Government agents often had a tendency to intrude upon people's privacy like that.
He turned to Stephen and gave him the thumbs up.
He opened the laptop he had found in one of the houses. If it weren't for the fact that the phone lines were down, he might have hacked into the school's computer system and uploaded a particularly nasty virus. But as it were, the laptop was still good for communicating silently.
His fingers glided over the keyboard. Stephen walked over to see what Kevin had written.
'It's time. Let's bake us a cake.'
17 students remaining
September 3 -- 12:04 a.m.
Vincent Crabbe (Boy 4, Slytherin) finished marking down the forbidden zones that had just been announced. He was safe for now.
Despite the fact that he was sick and tired of hiding out in the damn forest, he had to admit that it was safer there than inside one of the buildings. Those that were playing would likely scour the buildings for people hiding out. He knew he would, if he were playing. Fish in a barrel.
He had carefully chosen his hiding spot to be as close to the school as possible, while staying just out of the forbidden zone. It was rather difficult to calibrate his exact position in relation to the zone, but he was pretty satisfied that nobody would bother him where he was. The others would likely be staying as far away from the forbidden zones as possible. Which meant that so long as he was careful, the chances of him encountering anyone were slim to none.
Granted, camping so close to a forbidden zone meant that he had fewer paths of escape to choose from in case he did encounter someone, but that also meant that no one could sneak up behind him so long as he kept his back to the school.
"Karma..." he whispered.
He had never really given much thought to the metaphysical, or to what it meant to die. He wondered if there was an afterlife, where the lost would be reunited with one another, and all would be well. What sort of afterlife would await him?
He glanced down at the gun he held in his hand. He wasn't so sure that he wanted to live anymore, if it meant he had to kill someone in order to do so. It would just be pointless. All of the bloodshed had been pointless.
He wondered. If he hadn't parted ways with Ron, might he still be alive? When his name had been announced as one of the dead, it had taken him by surprise. Even though they had always been adversaries back at school, he couldn't help but feel saddened.
"How well do any of us really know each other?"
17 students remaining
September 2 -- 12:45 a.m.
Blaise Zabini (Boy 20, Slytherin) glanced at his watch nervously. He really didn't want to wake up Hermione Granger (Girl 8, Gryffindor), but they had to move. The zone they were in, H-4, would be forbidden in 15 minutes. As it was, they were already cutting it far too close to his liking.
Taking a breath to gather forth his resolve, he walked into the store, crossing over to Hermione, who still held her friend's lifeless body. Blaise wondered for a moment what the Ministry did with the dead, but quickly shook such thoughts out of his head.
He placed a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her awake. "Hey..."
She stirred, then turned to face him. "What is it?"
Blaise pointed to his watch. "Zone turns forbidden in 15."
Hermione sighed and slowly stood up, gently laying her friend on the floor. "Has Harry come yet?"
Blaise shook his head. "He hasn't been announced, though."
Hermione's eyes widened. "How will we find him? I don't..." Fresh tears formed in her eyes. "I don't want to find him like--"
Blaise put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't work yourself up again. You'll make yourself sick again. We'll think of something."
She nodded, trying to hold back her tears.
Blaise led her outside, and they went back into the forest, neither of them saying anything.
17 students remaining
September 3 -- 1:12 a.m.
He probably could have arrived as his destination a lot sooner, but Neville Longbottom (Boy 11, Gryffindor) had chosen to take the long way around the island. He had hoped that he might run into someone hiding out in the forest, and possibly even part of the trio that had eluded him earlier. But that was not to be, apparently. He'd find them later, though.
He had to be careful in the residential section. It would do no good for him to stumble into the forbidden H-6 (which was where the bulk of the houses were located). He decided to start checking the houses in H-7 first, and then work his way around to the rest. It was a pity that the tracker was gone, but there was no point of dwelling on things beyond his control.
He had no fear of being shot at, as he opened the door to one of the houses and went inside. He had already been shot in the gut, but the bulletproof vest he wore saved his life. He probably shouldn't rely upon it so much, as if he were shot somewhere the vest didn't cover, then he might very well die.
He frowned. The house appeared to be empty. He should have paid more attention to the locations of hiding students when the tracker still worked. He carefully checked from room to room, making certain that the house was indeed empty.
Coming to that conclusion, he left the house, and moved on to the next. Once again, that house was empty.
After checking all of the houses in H-7, he frowned and moved north, to check the houses there. Just as the houses before had been empty, so too were the ones he checked. And as he explored the rest of the houses in G-6, he found that those too were empty.
Rather frustrating, really, but he couldn't blame them for not sticking around. Staying in one place for too long was dangerous. Particularly since he had been rather noisy in his attack a few hours ago.
He grimaced. Nothing more he could do except for move on, and hope that he got lucky.
17 students remaining
September 3 -- 1:39 a.m.
"I wonder what happens to the winner," Hermione said softly as they walked onwards. Blaise turned to her. She looked at him. "Do you know?"
Blaise paused, then took out a cigarette. "From what I've heard about previous winners, they usually end up repeating a year. Sometimes they're transferred. Depends on how messed up they are at the end." He lit the cigarette, and let out a puff of smoke.
Hermione paused briefly. "Messed up?"
He nodded slowly. "Let's say for instance that you won. You think you wouldn't be messed up by that? Most winners end up missing most of the year because they're stuck in a mental ward somewhere recovering."
Hermione nodded, and they fell silent for about a minute. "I wonder... Why do you think Neville is doing all these horrible things?"
Blaise shrugged. "Fear, most likely. Probably lost himself to the game or something." He exhaled some smoke, then looked at her. "Hey. Don't dwell. You'll have all the time to do that once you get out of here."
Hermione laughed bitterly. "I doubt that I will. I just... I don't think I could..." She shook her head and stared off into the distance.
Blaise stopped in his tracks. "Hey. Enough of that. You'll live."
Hermione stopped and turned around to him. "How can you be so sure? And even if..." She looked to the ground, trying to hold back the tears that were forming once again. "Even if... It wouldn't be the same." She looked back up to him. "What would be the point if I just lost everyone I cared about?"
Blaise said nothing. There wasn't really anything he could say.
Hermione leaned against a tree for support. "I always thought..." She tried to hold back the tears that were building up. "That when... when we left school... We'd have one big wild party. I'd disapprove as the boys got a little too rowdy and drunk, but decide that just for one night, I might as well join in... Later, when we all had jobs, we'd hang around together, complaining about all the crap we had to deal with at work." She looked back to him, tears falling. "But even if I live, that won't happen, will it? Because only one can survive, right?"
Blaise looked at the ground. After a brief pause, he looked back up. "There are... flaws in the system." He studied her face. "You're smart, right? I'm sure you can even think of what those flaws might be."
She looked at him, confused. That had absolutely nothing to do with what she had just said. A few seconds passed, then Blaise pointed to his collar, not saying anything. Comprehension dawned on Hermione's face. There was something to the collars. Before she could say anything, though, Blaise put his finger in front of his lips, signaling her to keep silent. She nodded.
He smiled slightly. "Me, I always wanted to work with dragons. Doubt there are any on this island, though." He took out a piece of paper from his pack, along with a pencil. The moonlight reflected off of the paper, and Hermione realized it was the 'I will kill' list. Before she could say anything, Blaise wrote something on the paper.
"Why dragons, though?" she asked as he was writing. She had a feeling that there was some sort of code in what he had said.
Blaise handed her the paper. "I've just always found them to be rather fascinating, I guess. That's why I took Care of Magical Creatures."
It was hard to see what he wrote, but she could just barely make it out. 'The Dragons are a resistance group at the reservation in Romania. A number of past survivors there. They know lots of useful stuff. Don't speak of it out loud, though.'
Hermione nodded and handed him the paper back. "And here I thought it was because it was an 'easy' class."
Blaise shrugged as he took a drag of his cigarette. "That too." He put the paper back into his pack. "So... Shall we try to find Harry?"
Hermione blinked at the abrupt change of subject, then nodded. "How? Just wander blindly around the island?"
He shook his head. "No. We call out to him."
She looked at him in disbelief. "But if we call out to him, someone else might come! It would be suicide!"
He chuckled and shook his head. "If we speak, yes. Can you caw like a crow? Or hoot like an owl?"
Hermione tilted her head. "Not realistically..."
He just smiled mysteriously. "Even better."
17 students remaining
September 3 -- 1:58 a.m.
Stephen watched as his friend surveyed the area. He wished that he could be of more help, but knew that he would just be in the way if he tried. He had very little experience with the muggle world, and was rather confused by Kevin's reference to 'baking a cake'. When he had given a questioning look, the other boy explained via the laptop that it meant they were building a bomb. Stephen had heard of bombs, and had a general idea of what they did, but never seen one, and had no idea how exactly they worked. So all he could do was watch.
They were currently gathered near the edge of F-7. Due to the fact that there was nothing of any real elevation around the school, they had to tie one end of the rope to the lowest point possible at one end, and the highest point possible at the other. Stephen still had no idea how Kevin's plan was going to work, but he would go along with it anyway. They had nothing to lose, really, and everything to gain.
Since there were tall trees in F-5 that the high point could be tied to, they chose this section for the base. Getting the rope over the school might be rather difficult, but since Kevin believed that they would manage, Stephen had no real reason to doubt him.
"Holy crap!" Kevin exclaimed.
Stephen -- who had been holding the laptop -- started. He hadn't expected the other boy to speak. He sat the laptop on the ground and walked over to the well where his friend was, and looked down to where the other boy was shining his flashlight. His eyes widened. "Is that a girl down there?!"
Kevin nodded. "It looks that way. Damn..."
Stephen shivered. "People are playing..." he whispered to himself.
Kevin looked at him. "I thought you knew that. More deaths are announced with every announcement."
"Yeah, but this is the first time I really saw a dead body. Unless you count what happened back at the school."
Kevin nodded, then turned away from the well. "Moving on." He walked to the tree where he had set up base, and tied one end of the rope to the base of the tree.
Stephen followed him, picking up the laptop. "Now what?" He covered his mouth as he realized he said that out loud. He had forgotten that they weren't supposed to speak.
Kevin shrugged, then took the laptop. 'Now we implement Phase Two.'
17 students remaining
September 3 -- 2:22 a.m.
Vincent Crabbe decided that it was time to move. As he had been keeping his vigil, he saw a trail of what appeared to be balloons rise in the air just a little bit south of the school. There was someone close by, and he didn't want to be loitering around when they appeared. A pity, really. He had gotten rather comfortable.
He slowly stood up, holding onto a tree as he did so to keep his balance. He had no idea where he was going to go, but somewhere far away sounded good. Maybe the northwest corner of B-4. He doubted that very many people would want to be out in the open like that. He doubted that he really wanted to, as a matter of fact, but it was better than being found by someone whose intentions were thus far unknown.
Collecting his things, he set off for his journey, making sure to keep as quiet as possible. If there were people lurking about -- particularly Neville, the shooter -- he wanted to avoid them. Of those classmates who were left, he wasn't sure if he trusted any of them.
That was a thought that nearly froze him in his tracks. All this time, he had tried to keep his wits about him, not giving in to fear, and now he was starting to grow paranoid. Was everyone else paranoid, too? Maybe that's why there was so much death and bloodshed. People turned on one another, too scared to think about anything but their mistrust and paranoia.
He shook his head as he walked on, trying to get such thoughts out of his head. He wouldn't allow himself to give in. He was scared, yes, but he couldn't give in to that fear. If he did, he would panic, and end up losing. Whether he would lose his life, or just lose himself to the game, he wasn't sure. He just knew he couldn't lose.
"I won't give up," he whispered to himself as he walked onwards.
17 students remaining
September 3 -- 2:30 a.m.
For what must have been the hundredth time since she had started her shift, Sally-Anne Perks (Girl 18, Hufflepuff) looked at her watch. In three hours and thirty minutes exactly the new batch of forbidden zones would be announced, along with any death notices. That thought made her shudder slightly, but she knew that she was safe. They all were. Looking back to her watch, she realized that her shift would be ending in half an hour. But if the others were still tending to their patient inside, then she might have to stay out a little bit longer.
She sighed, both out of frustration and feelings of utter uselessness. If only she had some basic medical knowledge, she might be indoors with the others, and one of them would be stuck out here, holding the Uzi.
She hated guns. They scared her. But as the Uzi was the best weapon they had, whoever was on the guard shift had no choice but to hold onto it, and possibly even use it if need be. No matter what happened, or who came by, she didn't want to kill anyone. Not even hurt anyone. She told the others that, but they hadn't relented. Everyone had to take their turn as a guard. That, and they told her that it was doubtful that she would have to use it on anyone anyway.
She hoped that was true. She couldn't even begin to imagine how horrible she would feel if she had to use it. It was hard enough to stay calm without adding such a feeling to the mix.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was working herself up all over again. She turned around to face the door as it opened. "Sadie..."
Sadie Roper (Girl 19, Slytherin) looked at her as she walked over. "We were worried. You didn't look too good earlier."
Sally-Anne shook her head. "I'm fine. How's our patient?"
Sadie sighed and leaned against the doorframe. "Not well. Severe injuries are never good. I'm not liking the chance of survival there."
Sally-Anne nodded. "You guys are good nurses, though. Don't give up."
Sadie smiled slightly. "Always the optimist, eh?" She looked up at the moon shining overhead. "Only time will tell, though."
They stood there silently for a few minutes, then Sally-Anne turned to look at the other girl. "If our patient wakes up... I mean when... Uh... Should we tell... About... Uh..." She let her voice trail off, not sure on how to phrase her question.
Sadie paused, then shook her head. "Not my call, but I would recommend against anything that would upset someone who's been hurt that badly. But as I said, it's not my call. If one of the others decides to say something, that's their call, not mine."
Sally-Anne nodded. "It's too bad, though..."
"Yeah..." Sadie stood up straight and opened the door. "I'm going back in. Do you want me to bring you anything?"
Sally-Anne shook her head. "I'm fine, thanks."
The door silently closed, and Sally-Anne went back to her guard duty, watching out for anything that moved. She recognized on some level that the gun she held should make her feel safe, but instead it just made her feel cold and empty inside. How much longer were they going to have to live like this? How much longer were any of them going to live, period?
"Only time will tell," she whispered, letting the wind carry away her voice over the sea.
17 students remaining