Day Thirty Six; Four Days Later

Andre Harris was not in, by any means, a good mood. He, though naturally in a good mood despite some situations, could feel the source of anger surge through his veins, rapidly spreading like an infectious disease – like those airborne epidemics in zombie movies, he compared rather lamely. It had been five days since their last boat sighting and ever since, they had not seen another, and the tension of the atmosphere could be felt; he briefly wondered if he could snatch it within his palms and feel it with his fingertips. There must have been a way, albeit he knew it wasn't possible, and if he was going to be honest with himself, he was sure he and Robbie were the ones causing it the most. The two Vega sisters had been relatively normal compared to the pair of boys.

The Shapiro boy was sulking about the shore, with scrawny and sunburned shoulders slumped, a pout on his face and mass of mottled curls hanging dully about his awkwardly shaped skull, his glasses abandoned somewhere he couldn't be quite sure of. He hadn't spoken a word since the spotting, occasionally glaring in Tori's direction (a gesture in which neither he nor Trina like at all; he could see it in the eldest sister's eyes), except for the fact when he snapped at them, telling each and every one of them to leave him be, to go somewhere else, and continuously repeating that Jade and the other's had been right to leave. Andre was never one to physically harm someone, although admittedly he did lose his cool more than once, but the words "If I knew you'd all be as useless as you are now, I would have left!" made his temper snap.

His fury, every ounce that he had been bottling up, shielding Tori from, rose to the surface all at once. And with his fists clenched at his sides he arose to the challenge to try new things, and the first thing he had done was collide his fist with Robbie's jaw the moment he was in touching distance. He had never wanted to harm him, especially someone who was one of his best friends – he was never the bad guy, so why was he now? – but it seemed as if his fists developed a mind of their own. It was as if tiny brains injected themselves into his knuckles, commanding them to do the horrendous thing in which he had done. Punched his own friend? Nah, he didn't do that shit. Physical violence was everything against what he stood for.

Too bad he went against it.

Robbie did not retaliate; instead, clutching his jaw with a flabbergasted expression marring across his face he stumbled back upon his feet, investigating his crimson stained palm. "What was that for?" He asked loudly, sounding confused and bewildered – it was as if he had no idea that he deserved it at all.

"I've had it with you!" He begun. "You're pushing it, Robbie Shapiro!" Andre shouted his words angrily, shoving his scrawny friend by his shoulders, once, twice, and thus causing him to fall back. "If you want out, you can leave!"

"Andre!" Tori shouted, she and Trina both attempting to separate the arguing boys. "Stop!"

"Fine, if you want me gone, I'll go!"

"Oh, no you don't!" Trina yelled, grabbing her boyfriend by both of his arms and turning him to face her, frowning and hopeless, tears leaking from her eyes. "Don't you leave me too! You have no idea where they even are! So where would you go? Why would you want to go?" Andre, seething from beside Tori, could hardly believe what he was hearing. Trina was, if you have looked at it correctly, being very selfish with keeping him here – though in more ways than one, she wasn't being that at all. She was keeping him from doing something stupid, from him putting his own self into danger.

"But Trina –" Robbie started, his mouth still lightly leaking blood in which had been caused by the punch to the jaw, "you can come with me and we'll find them! It was better that they left! They're actually doing something to help us!"

Andre, who's attention was no longer focused upon the couple nor the scrawny figure that made up Robbie, but instead, dark chocolate brown irises caught a figure in the distance, emerging from the trees in dark, sullen clothes. She had a pale complexion, elegant curls of brunette, though messy, cascading down her slumping shoulders, and she was soaked to the bone. Behind her, not far from where she was walking however, maybe a foot or so away, were two equally drenched characters. The male was tall and lean, skin a solid olive color and his hair in need of a trim, long and ebony and in his arms was a tiny, limp female. He had absolutely no trouble recognizing the trio immediately, though missing the fourth and appearing as if their old demeanors had completely disappeared off of the face of the Earth, replaced by a persona much different and foreign. Still, a great surge of joy overtook him and he pushed Robbie and Trina out of the way. "You're back!" He shouted at the three, a smile breaking out upon his face as he laughed in relief, not taking in much else. "You made i-"

The moment he came near, stepping not even a foot in front of Jade, who as he got a closer look, had bags underneath her eyes and mire and crimson caking her clothes, the Goth collapsed into his arms, and by then, the three he had left behind joined beside him, questions flying at an absurd rate from their mouths. "What happened to Jade? What's wrong with Cat?" But Beck could not answer them, and instead, sank his knees into the soft grain blanketing the shore, carefully placing the unconscious Cat upon the ground, as if he could not hold the 90 pound girl any longer. Andre, baffled and confused, handed Jade, who was evidently still conscious, over to his best friend.

Plenty of times had he ever been confused, so many he could not properly count them on either of his hands – or his feet! – but this, he thought as he took in the bewildering scene before him, had iced the cake and smashed it into pieces. He could not help but wonder what had exactly happened during their time off of the beach, when they had ventured deep inside the wonders of the forest; he doubted that the three flanking him were not doing the same as he. Tori especially seemed concerned as she gathered Cat into her stick thin arms, hauling the dead weight, but still breathing, brunette into her lap in confusion.

"Careful Vega..!" Jade snapped weakly, her voice scratchy and hoarse, as if she hadn't drank water in days. The Latina stared over at her with furrowed brows, her lips parting as she begun to speak:

"What the hell happened out there?"

It was Beck who answered, and to further his confusion, he pulled a gun from the back of his trousers, dropping it into the sand with a huff, "we're not alone, that's what happened."

"So you found people?" Trina asked, with hope glazing her chocolate brown eyes as she pushed her way past Robbie and into the forming circle. "And where's that British dude? Is he coming back with them? Are we saved?"

"Yeah, we found people. No, he's not coming back. No, we're not fucking saved, we're doomed." Jade snarled sharply from beneath Beck's shoulder blade, looking a tad green in the cheeks. The group silenced at once, all eyes focused upon the sneering Gothic girl. "Brent's dead. Gone. He was shot by those freaks out there and so was Cat. So watch what you're doing, Vega."

"Brent's dead? Is Cat?" Robbie inquired with a gasp, the color draining from his face. It seemed to affect the rest of the trio that had stayed ashore; he saw Tori press a hand over her mouth and Andre himself felt lightheaded ever so suddenly.

"Not yet." Said Beck, with slight relief in his voice, "but-"

"Yet?"

"— she's not waking up."

*le sigh* Very short.

So before I make my decision, which will be in the next few chapters because the story is almost coming to a close (not yet though, I have a few more things planned), I'll need to know two things. If I do, not saying I will or if I'm going to, kill of main characters, would you stick to the story? If so, would you want me to add an alternate ending? The story is coming to a close soon. Please leave your thoughts so I can know, just to be sure. I already have one person that stopped reading ;-; Oh, and would you guys like more flashbacks again?

For a side note, nothing very important, but I changed something up. I changed Cat's nationality to Russian, because I heard someone speaking it the other day, and I absolutely love the language – it just kind of drew me into it. So instead of her being Italian, I changed it. Lol. That has absolutely nothing to do with anything. Awesome.

As you might be able to see, today has not been great, which is almost why this chapter is kind of…blah.

Like always, I hope you liked it anyway and review! But unfortunately, I'm going to have to ask for no flames or anything like that. So, no flames please!

Preview;

"Did you hear that, man?" Beck questioned, his fist clenching tighter around the gun at his side and his finger barely grazing the trigger. His gaze lingered upon the woodland, the one in which the three boys were watching, full of caution and curiosity – he made sure the weapon was loaded, just in case he was going to be in need of it.

"Yeah, yeah I did. Think it's one of those crazy folks you told me about?" Andre glanced over with a raised brow, hands finding his own weaponry.

All he did was nod; he needed to focus, because if anyone was out there, that meant the girls (two weak and the other two vulnerable) were in danger, and that was not okay.

He had already shot someone. In that case, he could do it again.