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Note: For anyone who might be wondering (for example, one of my reviewers) Battle Royale began as a novel. It has since been made into a live-action movie and a manga. The novel and manga are the only versions commercially available in the US.
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6 Students Dead - 34 Students Remaining
After the excruciating extraction of the shrapnel from Harry's arm came the equally painful disinfecting. The cold liquor somehow managed to burn just slightly more than a dragon's fire when poured on open wounds. Still, if it kept the wound from going septic, it was worth the pain. Finally, Hermione turned a few of the cleaner looking bar towels into makeshift bandages and bound the wounds.
"I think we should head for the clinic," she said, pointing out the spot on her map. "We need to stitch these up and put proper bandages on them or they'll only get worse."
Harry nodded absently. Part of him wondered if he would survive long enough to die from an infected cut. They had heard someone fire a machine gun nearby while Hermione was treating him. So Goyle wasn't the only one who had decided to play. The game was still in progress. No telling who would be the next to fall.
"Have you got a weapon?" Hermione asked, "Something better than a stake I mean."
Harry realized then that he had yet to check the contents of his duffle bag. What with nearly being blown up, running for his life, and undergoing impromptu surgery, he hadn't had a chance. He pulled open the black nylon bag, pushed aside the standard supplies, and took out his weapon. It was a small, black plastic box. It was shaped a little like Uncle Vernon's electric razor, but instead of blades, two metal prongs stuck out of the top. Harry pressed the button on the handle and blue sparks of electricity arced between the prongs, accompanied by an angry snapping sound.
"It's a taser!" Hermione said. "Mum's got one just like it."
Harry examined the taser for a moment. As far as weapons went he could have done a lot worse. It was small enough to conceal and draw quickly, and it was incapacitating, not fatal. He could defend himself and Hermione without having to kill.
"Come on," Hermione said. "We need to find that clinic."
"Wait," Harry stopped her. "I don't think we should go yet."
"Why not?"
"Well I've been thinking about it. We know there are people playing the game and some of them are nearby. If we move at night we're less visible but so are they. We could walk right into an ambush and never know it."
"But there can't be that many people going along with this, can there?"
"Maybe not but it would only take one to kill us. I think for now we have to assume that anyone we come across is hostile unless we know otherwise." God, I sound like Moody. Constant vigilance! "Anyway, it's only a few hours until sunup, I think we'll be better off waiting until then to move."
"But..."
"And during the day, we can look farther ahead; that'll make it easier to move between hiding spots."
Hermione seemed to consider that for a minute, then she nodded.
"Well that makes sense at least. I'm just worried about your arm."
"It won't get infected in a few hours will it?"
"Well...not bandaged up like that I guess," Hermione allowed. "All right, we stay until morning."
Harry nodded. "The owner has a flat upstairs. Go get some sleep, I'll keep watch down here."
"No way," Hermione replied. "You're hurt, Harry. You need sleep more than I do. You go; I'll watch."
Harry sighed. "Look, it's...what, four hours until dawn? We'll take shifts. You sleep two hours, then I will."
"All right," Hermione said, heading for the stairs. "Two hours. And you'd better wake me up, got it?"
34 Students Remaining
The clinic was close now. According to his tracker, Ron was right on top of it, any second now he should be able to see it through the woods. The gunshot sound with which he was quickly becoming all too familiar, had sounded nearby a few minutes ago, six or seven times in rapid succession. And another dot had winked out seconds later. One more friend dead. He wondered who it was.
Ron stopped suddenly when a red dot moved onto the screen. He'd had it zoomed in so close that only his own dot in the center had showed. Now someone else was close, to the north and heading toward Ron quickly. Ron didn't have time to hide himself before a figure in school robes stepped onto the road. In the moonlight, Ron saw all too well who it was. The pale face, the blond hair...it was Malfoy.
"Who...who's there?" Malfoy called out. He sounded terrified. "Who are you?"
"Put you're hands where I can see them, Malfoy," Ron replied.
"Weasley? Is that you? I can't see you back there. Come out into the light."
"Hands. Air. Now!" Ron said harshly.
"Please...please don't hurt me," Malfoy begged, throwing his hands above his head.
"What's your weapon, Malfoy?"
"What?" Malfoy blubbered, almost on the verge of tears.
"Your weapon! What is it?"
"An axe!" Malfoy cried. "Just a little axe!"
"Well I got one of those gun things, just like Phalanx's. So don't try anything funny. Very slowly, take your axe and lay it on the ground."
"What? But it's all I have!" Malfoy cried.
"You want me to shoot you right now?" Ron yelled.
"All right! All right, just...just please don't kill me."
"I don't intend to, but I'm not keen on getting stabbed in the back either," Ron said. To tell the truth, he wasn't sure he could trust Malfoy even unarmed. But even if he'd had a gun, he doubted he could have simply killed him. Few people hated Draco Malfoy more than Ron did, but murder wasn't something he was ready to consider just yet.
Reluctantly, Malfoy reached into the bag hanging from his shoulder and pulled out a small hatchet. He slowly placed the hatchet on the ground and pushed it away with his foot.
"Now look," Ron said. "I don't want to kill anyone. Not even you. I think if we just work together and trust each other, we can all get out of here. We don't have to play their game."
"How..."
"I don't know," Ron said. "Right now we need to gather as many people as we can. We can come up with a plan once we're all together. The important part is to get them to stop fighting before anyone else gets killed."
"All right..." Malfoy said, still sounding scared. It was strange to see him like this, completely devoid of his usual arrogance. It made sense though; Ron had always known Malfoy was a coward at heart. Now he was showing his true colors; the thought that he might die here had him nearly incoherent with fright. Ron might have taken some satisfaction in that, had he not been aware that his own chances of dying sometime in the coming three days were was just as good as Malfoy's. He picked up the hatchet and tucked it under his belt.
"Hey!"
"Sorry, Malfoy," Ron said. "It's not that I don't trust you; it's just...well, okay let's not kid ourselves; it is that I don't trust you. Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I was lying about the gun. See." He held up the tracking unit. Malfoy smiled. Suddenly he looked very relieved. Well that made sense, didn't it?
"What's it do?" Malfoy asked.
"Lets you see where everyone is. And it's a better map than the one in the bags."
"Very nice," Malfoy said, reaching into his bag. "I think I'll take it." He whipped out something dark and metallic. It was much larger than the ones Professor Phalanx and Goyle had used, but there could be no doubt that it was a gun. Gripping the tracker tightly, Ron swung his bag with the other hand, catching Malfoy in the arm and knocking his aim off just as he pulled the trigger. The gun fired multiple shots into the dirt, making the same rapid sound Ron had heard earlier. He turned and sprinted into the woods, shoving the tracking unit back into his bag as he went. He heard Malfoy's gun go off behind him again. A horrible, burning pain erupted in his right leg, just below the calf. Less than a second later, another spike of pain went off in his right shoulder. His legs went limp beneath him and he fell. Worse yet, he was on a slope. As the pain of the gunshot wounds increased, he felt himself tumbling down the steep incline before his midsection slammed into a thick tree, stopping his descent but also knocking the breath out of him. The pain of the fall only lasted a second however, before the agony of the gunshots eclipsed it. Was this how Eloise felt when she died?
He thought of his parents. His mother, waving goodbye as he boarded the Hogwarts Express, had it really only been a few hours ago? Ginny; she must have noticed by now that he was gone. Would she be told what had happened to him? He thought of Harry and Hermione, somewhere on the island. How would they feel at six o'clock, when they heard he was dead? He thought how unfair it was that he would never get to see them again, especially Hermione. And I was going to tell her how I felt. Now I'll never get to. It was amazing how much ran through his mind in such a short time. And of all the lousy, cheap ways to die! Shot in the back by Malfoy!
He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he should get up. But the rest of him knew better. He had nowhere to go. No one would come to help him. In fact, they would probably all head away from the gunfire. And he would just lie here until he bled to death. He could already feel it coming; a kind of warm calm that settled over him. Even the pain was fading. Somewhere far off, he heard hurried footsteps approaching; that'd be Malfoy, come to finish him off and collect the tracker, the better to hunt down others. If he'd had the strength, he would have flung the damn thing into the woods where Malfoy would never find it. But as things were, he had only enough energy to hope that he would be unconscious when those killing shots came.
34 Students Remaining
Kevin Entwhistle (Male Student 4, Ravenclaw) took refuge in a small farmhouse near the eastern tip of the island. Shots had been ringing out since the start of the game. And at least two students were dead (not counting Justin, who had died in the classroom) Goyle and Sally-Ann. It looked like they had been blown up. His classmates were apparently quite willing to kill one another. But Kevin would have no part of it. He intended to stay right here and wait it out. There were ninety zones in the game and, given the times Professor Phalanx had said, thirty-three of them would become forbidden in the course of the game. So there was a better than even chance that he could hide out here the entire time. And if this zone was selected, then he would find another hiding place. Let the rest of them kill each other if they wanted. He would wait until they wiped each other out, then he could go home with a clean conscience. He wouldn't have to kill anyone.
Kevin jumped when he heard a window downstairs shatter. Someone was breaking in. He tore open the duffle bag at his feet and took out his weapon. The bag contained a gas mask and six grenades marked "mustard gas". He hadn't thought he would need them. He had hoped to wait out the game, after all. But somehow, someone knew he was up here. They were coming to kill him. Just because he didn't want to kill, didn't mean he wouldn't do so to defend himself. He pulled on the mask, making sure it sealed, and grabbed a grenade.
Now there were footsteps on the stairs. Kevin quietly pulled out the grenade's pin, holding the clip on. The footsteps were on the second floor landing now, coming down the hallway toward him. As the door in front of him swung open, Kevin tossed the grenade at the feet of his would-be killer. Just as the gas began to billow out of the canister, the door opened fully to reveal Susanna Bradley (Female Student 5, Ravenclaw). Kevin wished he could take back the grenade but it was too late, and Susanna seemed to realize this too. Reflexively, she raised her own weapon (it looked to Kevin like some kind of revolver) and fired at her murderer. The shots tore through Kevin like he was made of paper. The last thing he ever saw was Susanna dropping her gun and falling to the floor, gasping in vain for air and coughing up blood as the deadly gas burned out her throat and melted her lungs. In seconds, both of them were dead.
32 Students Remaining
As night slowly crept into dawn, the surviving students spread out across the battleground. In the pub, Harry Potter stood watch while Hermione slept upstairs. Neville Longbottom moved cautiously through the woods, looking for an empty building to hide in. Draco Malfoy stalked another part of the same forest, looking for more victims. And at the bottom of a steep embankment, Padma Patil found Ron Weasley hovering at the edge of death. Common sense said to leave him, but she couldn't, not while he still drew those labored breaths. As carefully as possible, surprised by how heavy he was, she wrapped his good arm around her shoulders and began the slow, laborious process of dragging him uphill to the clinic. Elsewhere, some students hid out while others stayed mobile. Alliances were few and far between; most encounters ended in mutual retreat. There was an almost physical sense of paranoia in the air, the feeling that even your closest friend could no longer be trusted.
Battle Royale had begun.
32 Students Remaining
To Be Continued...