Nanahara tried to shift his shoulder so it rested into a deeper grove of the bark but gave up when he realized he had not enough strength to lift his arm slightly let alone lift himself the few inches to the right. He had heard Kitano's announcement—it wouldn't have been an exaggeration to say he felt weight lifted off his shoulders when the announcement ended without either Motobuchi or Satomi among the dead.

The next danger zone would include the area he was in right now. He guessed another 45….no, 40…at times like this he wished he could turn his wrist a little to at least have the dignity of knowing when his death would be so he'd be prepared for it. But even the Gods couldn't grant him that wish. But when the time came, Mimura and the others would probably hit him over the head yelling at him for being late, as always.

He laughed at the scene that came together within his mind—him and the others playing basketball in heaven. He wondered if he'd have wings and they'd be floating across the clouds, bouncing a basketball made of white cloud. He wondered if everyone would have the same faces or if faces even existed. Damn, he knew he should have watched that one show about life after death that Nobu had been obsessed with. When he had asked why Nobu found it so appealing, his reply was, "you never know what might happen so might as well know what happens when it happens" He had laughed it off then because Nobu's explanation made no sense at all, something about too many "happen"s.

Wiping the trailing blood from the side of his mouth, he adjusted himself the best he could from sliding from the clumsy sitting position he was in. His walking stick had fallen to the side, but close enough to reach. It would have to be his weapon. He preferred a knife or a gun but it would have to serve its purpose.

Each cough set his lungs on fire. It felt as if a needle edged fist held an iron grip around the organs. As the minutes passed, slowly as it did, he caught himself drifting off several times, always bringing himself back by biting the sensitive skin inside his mouth. He spit the blood that flowed from the raw flesh. Trying to concentrate on staying conscious, he focused on his hand, slowly folding it into a fist, then back again into an open hand. Repeating this exercise, he lifted his arm. Shaking, unstable, but he kept his focus, closing his fingers over the rough bark of his walking stick.

Gripping the wood firmly, with everything he had, he swung the weapon behind him. It came into contact with flesh, and eventually bone. The unexpected hit had been fatal. He recognized the sound of wood snapping as bone cracking from the time he had broken his leg during a soccer match. A spray of bullets went overhead him, which were probably very likely aimed at him and would have hit their target had it not been for his unexpected move.

The hit came to him as a surprise. He hadn't sensed anyone behind him, but perhaps this was the sign for him to get a move on. He wasn't sure how much time there was left until his and his attacker's collars would detonate from being in a danger zone, but there probably wasn't much left. If he could hang on, keep the attacker busy until the collars did their job, it would give Motobuchi and Satomi a better chance of surviving. He couldn't just lie here and wait for death to come, he had to do something.

He swung the stick so strongly, after hitting the attacker it spun a few feet away from him. Dragging his weight, he reached. Almost there….an injured foot blocked his path to the wood, and the other foot came down on his wrist, the sole grinding down. He winced. He could feel the bones giving away, they were going to break. With his free hand, he grabbed as much dirt as he could and flung it upwards, a spray of soil and grass hitting the student's eyes. Once he felt the sole slightly letting out its pressure, he pulled his wrist back. Taking the extra feet he needed to reach the stick, he grabbed it and aimed for the attacker's injured leg.

The student fell back, the hand gun clattering to the side. Nanahara kicked it further into the woods. He couldn't murder a person, he couldn't hold a gun to the person's head and release the trigger. So all he could do was keep the deadly weapon as far away as he could, and keep the person down until the time came. The attacker came at him with force, wrapping his thin fingers around his neck. Tightening his hold, he brought the stick up to the other person's stomach, digging the object in. As the student fell back, Nanahara coughed, the blood from his lungs dripping.

The attacker rose to his feet, and dragging his broken leg behind him, he made an attempt to head in the direction of the fallen gun. Nanahara reached out and grabbed the attacker's injured leg, making him fall to the ground. A beeping sound, like an alarm clock going off, began. Was this it? Was this the collar about to detonate? His grip tightened around the attacker's leg, closing his eyes, concentrating. The student beat down on Nanahara's head heavily with his other leg, trying to free himself, trying to stay alive, but his arms would not come loose. As the pace of the beeping accelerated, he held on, even though he could feel the effects of the assault to his head coming on.

Motobuchi, Satomi, hang in there.

The beeping became louder, louder…louder…

Boy #23 Nanahara Dead

Boy #14 Kawada Dead

3 more to go.

"He's dead."
Satomi looked up at him. "What? I couldn't hear you."

"Nothing."

Motobuchi slid the GPS location to their current part of the island. He had been observing the locations of those farther off and had noticed the two blinking dots were now gone. They were located in the very part of the island he and Satomi had left Nanahara. There was no way Nanahara could have moved out of the section. But he couldn't tell this to Satomi. They needed to keep their focus to the end goal, and the end goal only. There was time for regret later, but not now. Not when there was only one person left that they had to go against. The end of the game, and being able to go back to society was so near, but it would be another four hours. Four hours.

He glanced up at the sky. The gathering clouds and the darkening didn't feel like much of a good sign. It would rain soon.

He had seen the helicopters that had transported the students onto the islands leave the island forty-five minutes earlier. They must have left from the other side of the island, because when he had seen the small black dots in the sky, he had first mistaken the flying objects as birds. But he quickly dismissed the thought when he saw they were moving in a straight line, not like birds who swayed back and forth to keep in sync with the wind.

With the hope of somehow getting control of one of the helicopters and leaving the place gone, he had begun to consider the possibility of boats because it was obvious that their teacher was still on the island, as was others accompanying him. He hadn't seen any boats tied to the shore on the other side of the island, perhaps they had their boats hidden underneath the cliff, out of sight.

He gripped the rocks of the edge and leaned in as far as he could to try to catch a glimpse of the underside of the cliff. But the angle was too sharp, he couldn't see farther than a few meters, not enough to see if there really were boats hidden at the base, or if there was nothing except the crashing of waves against the curved rocks.

Motobuchi turned to Satomi. "I'm going to try to climb down the cliff to see if there are any boats. Can you keep watch and come down if I find any?"

He handed her the GPS which was concentrated on their area. It was clear for the time being of the third person's presence. If he walked a bit farther down along the cliff then he'll probably be able to find a dent in the cliff which he could climb down to, and somehow make his way to where he suspected the boats might be. Satomi would be all right, she had the GPS, and the bullet proof vest.

He pointed to the two blinking dots on the screen. "We're here. If you see another red dot coming into the screen any time while I'm gone, run. Run in the opposite direction he's heading. Leave me here, I'll be down by the cliffs and he won't be able to see me. Don't stay here and wait for me like the first time, got it?"

Satomi nodded uneasily.

"Satomi, this is important. I'll be fine. But you won't be unless you RUN."

Motobuchi could see her hands which held the GPS turn white. He understood her fear but she had to know waiting for someone who would be safely hidden from the attacker would be of no use. He received her reply a few seconds later with a more confident nod.

"Okay. Remember—"

"Keep an eye on the GPS and run if I have to." Satomi finished his sentence for him.

He grinned and gave her the thumbs up sign.

He started walking along the edge of the cliff, trying to find a place where it wasn't steep enough that he could step down. Finding a good place about 10 meters from where Satomi was, he glanced back at her. She had the GPS in her hand, observing it carefully, but upon noticing him looking her way, she waved to let him know she was on task.

Step by step. The cliff was much higher than he had expected. And it was taking him much longer to make his way past even the first few meters. He had to look below to make sure each footing was stable before slowly lowering himself further. The rocks were sharp, but not as sharp as they could be, because the waves had eroded some of the rock's edges.

With each move he made, he glanced over to his right to see if he could see the outline of a boat, a shadow, anything to indicate there was something more than waves and rock. He was sweating profusely, because of the strain of having to keep himself from falling by holding onto slippery rocks and because of the knowledge that they had a limited amount of time left. If there was nothing down there, they would have to start from ground one and they would need all the time they could get.

Holding onto two sections of dented rock, he leaned back further, craning his neck to try to spot the boats.

His hands slipped.