Warning: Un-aliving and death
Chapter 23: Day 16 Part 3 — A Very Long Day
Earlier, at Samundra…
Once Reynolds was out in the water, he got on his radio. "Scratch going to the red beach. We're headed back to the resort."
*fuzz* Reynolds! Reynolds! If you're out collecting Jessica, I swear to God I'll quit right now! *fuzz*
Reynolds sighed. "No, I'm not bringing Jessica in. We'll talk on the docks."
Twenty minutes later, the three boats pulled in and Conner was waiting.
The security started to get off the boats as Conner pushed past them.
"Reynolds what the hell?! You went after Jessica, didn't you?"
"Jessica will be safe the rest of the game," he said panting. "Vegeta… he was very persuasive on the matter."
"What did he do?" Conner asked, noticing how pale he was.
"Did you feel that earthquake?"
"Yeah, news said it was a 4.5— wait, you're saying Vegeta caused it?!"
"He did… and he threatened a fucking tsunami if we touched Jessica or Sam," Reynolds leaned over and put his hands on his legs, "Holy God… he was really going to kill me…"
Conner took a deep breath. "Sam's tests came back while you were gone."
"Yeah… Yeah…" Reynolds stood straight, "Let's go deal with Sam…"
The two headed into the resort and saw Nick's father being led away with Nick curled up on the floor sobbing surrounded by scattered papers. Staff were kneeling over him to see if he was alright.
Conner tapped the shoulder of one of the remaining guards. "What happened?"
He turned around, "Seems Nick's father only agreed to come on to humiliate him publicly by delivering lawsuit papers. The family had lost track of him."
"Come on," Reynolds put his hand on Conner's shoulder, "Man's already ruined. Whatever few million is on that toilet paper is nothing compared to the contract fine."
They entered the medical floors.
"Room 9. Room 9." Conner mumbled as he passed through the hall. He sees two nurses come from the bathroom carrying bedpans. "Excuse me, can you tell the doctors Reynolds is back."
"Yes, sir," he said. The two returned to the room.
"There," Conner said.
The two sit down across from the room next to Sam's.
Reynolds leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees.
Conner matched his poster. "So…" he anxiously rubbed his hands together. "What happened?"
Reynolds glanced at him, "With Vegeta?"
Conner nodded.
Reynolds looked down.
"I… had just radioed the blue leader to hold Jessica at the camp and I would be there in 10 minutes. Vegeta was there for some reason. The blue leader said Vegeta had a message. It was to think about… I forget the name now and Boxer Day had in common…"
"The Boxing Day Tsunami…"
"Exactly. That name and tsunami didn't have anything. But that name and earthquake brought up the Superman movies from way back in the 1970s. Where the plot was the villain stealing nukes to trigger the San Andreas fault and drop California into the ocean."
"So the innuendo is a threat to trigger the fault to cause a tsunami. That would kill millions of people."
"Yeah…" Reynolds half nodded. "I wasn't going to risk it. I gave into most of his demands…"
"What did you promise him?"
"Jessica and Sam will go unpunished. He wanted Sam to go to the blue team, but they refused unless Jessica was sent to Michael's group as a trade. That's when Vegeta stomped his foot like a fucking toddler… and…"
"The earthquake?"
"He didn't even lift his knee that much. It looked completely normal, but the power in it…"
"Vegeta fought at the Cell Games. Thinking of him like that and not one of the people who nearly killed me in East City is how I deal with it."
Reynolds' jaw dropped.
Conner nodded before looking at the ground. "I've also met him a couple times. He was always so awkward and quiet you'd never guess he had a violent bone in his body."
"You're kidding me?" Reynolds said, shocked.
"Nope. He's really completely helpless without his wife there."
"His— Oh my God!" Reynolds stood up suddenly. "He was bluffing! The little fucktard was bluffing! His family's here." He began to throw a toddler-like fit, "Grrrrr. Fucking God!"
"Before you cause an earthquake yourself, it was honestly best you gave in."
Reynolds removed his fingers from his hair. "Why?!"
"Sam's memory is full of holes. But he does remember Vegeta turning violent last night. Minus his PTSD kicking in, it was his first time, correct?"
"Yeah, I saw the footage already. He knocked them out with a single punch. I don't get why he shaved their heads though."
"Because it's psychologically scarring. That's my point. He's escalating," Conner said. "The more out of hand things get, the more comfortable he becomes with violence. Even if it was a bluff, he would have never made that threat at the start of this game, would he?"
"No… No, he wouldn't…" Reynolds said, sitting back down.
Conner leans in. "You're a fixer, Reynolds."
Reynolds looked at him surprised.
"You're used to being able to bury things. Make things go away. You use the law to destroy people just like Nick down there. That's why you showed absolutely no emotion. That is what you do for a living. But you can't intimidate into silence a man like Vegeta. I doubt he came up with the tsunami idea off the top of his head in the heat of the moment. Lay off of him. Let his family's expectations continue to be the brake on his behavior and he will fall into line."
"What line?!" Reynolds said frustrated. He stood again and faced Conner. "A line he draws himself?"
Conner takes out his phone. "Here," he handed it to him. "Since you obviously didn't check your email yesterday."
Reynolds took it.
"I also emailed this and CC'd the executive board."
"What?!"
"It's a list of all the prior instances of other players doing what Vegeta has done in the past. The only thing that's never happened before is someone making a solo camp, probably because it be social suicide. But befriending the other teams, secretly allying with the other team against your own for merge advantage, trading goods, combining knowledge to make items. Everything has multiple precedents and none have had any intervention in the past by producers."
"But Vegeta—"
"Is breaking new ground by fermenting a rebellion. Honestly, we deserve it. But also against Michael and the rest of the red team. There is no way in hell Bobby meant for things to go this far, but this is the real-life heroes vs villains. With all the hidden footage we have of what happened to Sugar Petal and now Sam, the blue team is practically irrelevant narrative wise except as allies to Vegeta."
In his room, Sam's door appeared completely shut, but the bolt had not slipped into the hole.
Sam also appeared completely asleep.
"We can't have an alien as centerstage Conner!"
"We can just edit around him talking about it."
"He's literally a cannibal space Viking raider on the run for war crimes for killing for alien Hitler."
"If you're going down that road, then he's also literally the alien Stauffenberg. He even got resurrected."
"That just means both sides still want him dead!"
"I did not get the moniker The Dark Prince for spending time in a tanning bed. Is that why you won't come over? You afraid to be seen with a professional? Retired or otherwise? … Organizations like the PTO need more than just the boss and thugs like me who enjoy every second of the dirty work…" He remembered his smirk from the challenge. "Get on your knees and beg!"
"Christ save us," Sam thought. "No wonder Ichiro is freaking out… But if he said he knew the cop involved… Does he know someone that high in the government? But shouldn't something like this be completely classified? Why is Ichiro only worried about the producers' punishment?"
Sam broke his meditative state and put his hand on his head as pain ripped through his skull.
"I'm thinking too hard… I just need to rest my brain…"
He lowered his arm.
Sam glanced towards the door, and for the first time he realized his foot was splinted and elevated.
"Oh Jesus save me! Becky and Michael—?! … Becky… and… Michael… are the reason I'm here. Vegeta wouldn't have hurt me… He hasn't hurt anyone. There was Michael but… They said it was because Sugar Petal screamed…" He thought about the shouting still going on outside. "Would someone like him really get PTSD over something like that? It's not like he heard a back-firing car… It wasn't about him in that moment…"
Witnessing him kill the goat with his bare hands and snapping the machete passed through his increasingly addled mind.
"He's capable of so much, but…" He thought about what he remembered of the night before.
Sam gripped the sides of his head. "I wanna think. I need to think."
Sam's scream of agony echoed through the floor sending every nurse and doctor scrambling to his room.
It was all Conner and Reynolds could do to squeeze themselves tight against the wall to prevent themselves from becoming roadkill on the tile floor.
"No. No, stop touching your head. Sam. Sam." "Get his arms down." "Where's the syringe? When was his last dose?"
"Sam. Sam. My name is Dr. Ramirez. You're been in an accident and you're in a hospital right now. But you're going to be fin—"
"No. Not an accident…" the two heard Sam weep. "Becky… and Michael… They… They…"
"Injecting now."
"Don't worry. You're completely safe. Just calm down, you're going to be fine. But you need to relax… That beeping you hear is your pulse monitor, can you try and make it go slower for me? Ok? Ok…? Ok, turn his oxygen up to get him to relax."
"Done."
….
"Ok, there it goes… All right, Sam. My name is Dr. Ramirez… You are in the hospital… You are going to be fine, but you do have a bad concussion and a twisted ankle. I need you to rest. Your next CT scan is scheduled in about 40 minutes. So, I need you to Relax. Rest. And try not to think too hard. You'll be given a concussion cognitive test afterwards and we need you at your sharpest, ok?"
"…Yes, sir…"
"All, right. We're going to be leaving now, but here's you call button. There will be a nurse waiting right outside your door."
"…Ok…"
"Ok, we're leaving now, alright?"
"Yes, sir…"
The staff filed out of the room. Then the doctor saw the two. He pointed at them, then down the hall.
They entered a room on the complete opposite side of the wing.
"So, I see you've returned, Mr. Reynolds. Are you ready for the briefing you skipped out on?"
"Yes," he said.
The doctor took his laptop and connected it to a larger screen with a cable.
First, he pulled up several x-rays.
"As you can see here," he circled two areas. "Sam has three hairline skull fractures radiating from the most severe of the two impacts. However, the bones have not shifted to the point of needing surgical intervention."
He pulled up CT scans next.
"The initial scans showed bruising internally at the severe impact sight. Subsequent scans showed swelling decreasing again preventing the need for immediate surgery, but it is still severe and could reverse at any time."
He pulled up other test result paperwork.
"However, he is showing a steep decline in cognitive testing, slurred and incoherent speech, general weakness but more severe on the left side, and his vision has remained darkened and blurred."
The doctor pulled his laptop aside so he could look directly at Reynolds and Conner. "This all points to a traumatic brain injury, with specialized damage to the visual cortex in the back of the skull where the fractures are located. X-ray and CT scans are not detailed enough to give the clarity needed to see the specifics of this injury. He desperately needs an MRI but we do not have one on site. He would need to be taken to a real hospital which would mean medical discharge from the game. If he does not get this treatment, he is in immediate danger of aneurysm or stroke leading to death, permanent vision loss, loss of fine motor skills and decreased mental soundness and capacity.
"Also…" he continued, "Although his memories are fractured, he has been very clear these injuries came from a very violent assault by teammates. Returning to the game…"
"That is not your judgment to make," Reynolds said sternly and full of rage. "Only to report immediate injuries. Now. Is that all you have?"
"No," the doctor said, pulling his laptop in front of him.
"These are images of his right leg. He shows no fracture but does have a severe tissue injury. It does not require surgery at the moment but does require a stiff brace and crutches for two months to avoid permanent damage that would require corrective surgery at a later date."
"Anything else?" Reynolds said.
"No, those are all of his discovered injuries."
"Then leave us to discuss," he ordered.
The doctor closed his laptop and left the room with it.
"Let me guess," Conner glared at him. "You're going to return him to the game?"
"Nothing he said requires immediate intervention, and the contract clearly protects us from any injury or death lawsuits."
"And the optics of this? Returning Sam to the people who almost killed him?"
"Who ever said that would get past editing? We have footage of him unconscious at Vegeta's camp. That's all that's needed."
"I hope hell is even greater than anything we think it is," Conner stood, "Because I'll tell you right now, heaven was." He left the room.
Reynolds sighed and put his head in his hands.
Then, his phone vibrated.
He pulled it out. It was a message from the secret app.
"Taken care of Monday," was all it read with an eight second timer. After it counted down, everything was deleted.
Reynolds sighed again putting his phone away.
"Come on, Bill," Conner said exiting the elevator on his phone, "Throw me a bone here. You can't be seriously wanting Sam to be fed to Michael and Becky on a silver platter like this? The doctor said he's at high risk of dying from a stroke in the next few days."
"I'm sorry Conner, but my hands are tied right now. Alcibiades Souvlaki at WorldNet has taken personal interest in the show. A decision to override the rules will have to go through him. But if you can get his medical records and the statement from his doctors about the seriousness of his injuries, I'll argue your case."
Conner sighed, "Fine… I'll go back and uh…."
He suddenly saw Trunks running through the atrium carrying a vending machine above his head followed by Bulma.
"Trunks put that down!"
"No!"
"Put that down right now!"
"No! I want candy!"
"You are not having candy before dinner!"
"No!"
"Don't make me get your father!"
"Daddy's gone! You can't make me!"
"Trunks!"
"NO!"
"Conner? Conner? Are you still there?"
"Yeah… I think… I just saw a toddler run by while carrying a vending machine…"
"What?"
"Vegeta's son… just stole an entire vending machine… and is running off with it…" The phone slipped from his fingers and landed on the carpet at his feet.
"… I… Just… Just get me the medical records… The Briefs can sort themselves out." The call ended.
"… Ok."
Upstairs, Reynolds' exited the elevator and walked to his private suite. He took his suit jacket off, undid his tie, and unbuttoned the first few buttons on his shirt. He plopped down on his bed.
"So, Conner will be gone in five days." He looked over at the alarm clock, then back at the ceiling. "Only 1:33? God this day feels so much longer…" he said out loud to no one. He looked back at the clock, and the landline next to it. "I guess I could order lunch in my room…"
A couple hours later…
"Seriously?! Bill? Come on."
"Conner. Trust me, you need to drop this. He reminded me about the deal to fire everyone and completely absorb GBS. Men as powerful as him do not REMIND people."
"Sam is going to die!"
"So are you if you keep this up, damn it!"
Conner heard him gasp that he said the unspoken out loud.
He smiled melancholically. "Don't worry, Bill. I figured that out a while ago. Marines don't retire. We just deploy back on the home front. Goodbye Bill."
"Wait!—"
Conner hung up.
Instantly Bill Terrance tried to call back.
Conner blocked the number after he had rejected his calls four times.
Conner had put his phone back in his pocket when it suddenly rang again. He saw the ID as BC#6FP.
"Blue Crew #6 Field Producer," he thought.
"This is Conner. What's happening with Samundra that can't be said over the radio?"
"We've been trying to call Reynolds for over an hour. His phone is not working or something. I keep getting sent to voicemail."
"So what's happening that Reynolds wouldn't want me to know about?"
"Casey, the alien conspiracy nut on Samundra. She finally went over the edge and went to Vegeta's camp. It was completely deserted and she's had the run of the place. We're only supposed to film unless we get specific instructions otherwise from him. But it's too late now. She says she has proof about Vegeta and is skipping back down the track singing with a basket of stuff she stole like the freaking Easter Bunny."
"What?!"
"I told them to go ahead with her while I kept calling. I got photos of the damage. It's completely thrashed. Only reason you can tell it wasn't Berapi is that it's not on fire."
Conner looked at his watch. "It's only 3:18. What is he doing?"
"Ok, send me the pictures. I'm going to hunt him down."
He put his phone in his pocket and pulled out his radio. "Hey, has anyone seen Reynolds? I was just told his equipment isn't responding."
*fuzz* I delivered a late lunch to his suite shortly before two. I don't know if the tray has been returned yet. I'm close to the kitchens. Their staff doesn't have radios because they work for the resort and not us. *fuzz*
"Thank you. I will check his room in the meantime." Conner put the radio back in the holder and darted to the elevator.
Conner came out on the fourth floor, and ran to Reynolds room. He began loudly bagging on the door. "Reynolds! Reynolds! Are you there?! We need you!"
After a couple minutes of screaming, Reynolds opened the door, and promptly got hit in the face.
"The fucking hell, Conner!" Reynolds said with both his hands over his nose.
Conner noticed Reynolds was not wearing his tie, had his belt undone and zipper down, and was not wearing shoes.
"Have you been taking a nap this whole time?!"
"What do you want? Don't tell me Vegeta did something stupid again so soon and you can't handle it?"
"It's not Vegeta it's—"
*fuzz* This is Blue 2. I need Reynolds or Conner. *fuzz*
Conner grabbed his radio as Reynolds went back in the room to get his. "This is Conner. What is it?"
*fuzz* We have footage and witnesses to Casey entering Vegeta's camp and stealing items. *fuzz*
"You can prove this?" Reynolds said.
*fuzz* Yes, she says she's discovered evidence Vegeta is an alien in his personal belongings. *fuzz*
"What?!" Reynolds screamed. "Stop her!"
*fuzz* They are already talking and showing off her stolen goods. *fuzz*
"I'm getting the security ready!" Reynolds screamed. "She's done! She's fucking done!"
"I agree fully," Conner said into his radio. "Sabotaging and stealing from the other team's camp is an expellable offense."
Conner walked into the door and saw Reynolds slip his leather shoes on while throwing a tie around his neck. "Why the hell did no one call me?"
"Casey's field producer told me they tried to call you for over an hour before they gave up and called me," Conner said.
He grabbed his phone off of the wireless charger. No matter what he did, the screen stayed black.
"Why the hell is my phone broken?!"
"Did the adapter come loose from the nightstand?"
Reynolds looked behind the nightstand, and saw the cable had fallen out of the built-in outlet strip. He plugged it back in and put it back down on the charger. The orange logo appeared and an empty battery symbol.
"God damn it," he said, trying to tie his tie. He pushed past Conner and ran down the hall.
Conner caught up to him quickly.
"Tell me what I need to know," he ordered.
"Your fly is still down for one."
Twenty minutes later…
Casey was dragged to shore. She was still squirming and fighting, but one some point in the boat ride someone's sock was shoved in her mouth and was held in place by multiple zip ties around her head. She was taken to the eighth floor, northern spire, which was the bedrooms for the security personnel. She was tossed hard onto the floor of a room that had been stripped bare to the walls. They tased her twice more before they put something around her neck and riveted it tight. Then they cut the zip ties in her moments of paralysis.
"Don't bother screaming, that's a dog barking collar set remotely to the strongest setting. You couldn't mess with it if you wanted. But if you're a masochist, this floor and the one below are nothing but armed security and the three rooms above are empty. But here," the man went over to the sliding glass doors to the balcony. "The balcony is now unlocked. Maybe someone could hear you now?" the man laughed followed by the other security guards.
They left, locking the door behind them. Shortly afterwards the door cracked open. Someone tossed in a student lunch size carton of milk, a bottle of orange juice, and two peanut butter and grape jelly sandwiches wrapped in paper towels.
Casey slowly got to her feet. It was immediate to her that there was nothing in this room that was useful. She went to the bathroom. It had been stripped. The folding doors and shelves in the linen closet were gone. The doors on the vanity were gone. The top of the toilet was gone. The lid of the toilet bowl was missing but the seat was there. The glass doors of the shower were gone too, along with many of the luxury shower heads, only leaving the ones embedded in the wall or the bare pipes cut flush.
"Nothing that could be used as a weapon," she thought. "They even took the cardboard tube out of the toilet paper."
Casey then went out to the balcony. Although close, there were hastily erected walls on the neighboring room's balconies.
"Even if I did jump, this entire floor is armed guards."
She looked at the balcony below and also saw a barrier. Above, she found no way to climb from the design of the building itself.
Casey returned to the main room and ate her meal.
Meanwhile, with Berapi…
*fuzz* Jason! Get everyone ready! Conner and I are coming ashore. *fuzz*
Jason grabbed his radio. "What's going on?"
*fuzz* We will be going over what just happened on Samundra. *fuzz* he heard Conner.
"10-4." Jason said, putting his radio away.
"Everyone!" he shouted. "Reynolds and Conner are coming ashore! Head to the landing zone!"
The three contestants were scattered on the beach. Michael and Ichiro looked up from where they were languishing and slowly got to their feet. Becky only flipped over on her stolen rug.
Jason jogged over to Becky.
"Get up. This is serious," he growled. "Members of the blue team sacked Vegeta's camp and destroyed what they couldn't steal. People only have to glance at the three of you to know you tried that too, so get up. The producers are not playing games anymore."
"Whatever…" Becky said completely disinterested, but she did get to her feet.
Just as she did, the boat embedded itself in the sand. Reynolds and two of the riding security guards picked themselves off the floor of the boat as Conner jumped off.
"Everyone! In front of me right now!" Conner shouted. "Cameras! Get it in gear and get into position!"
The sight of the previously easy-going Conner barking like a drill sergeant startled them and they scrambled. One crew's cameraman tripped in the sand and the camera face planted on the lens.
"Forget that one, change the lens out later! Other cameras, in position!"
"I wonder what's happening?" Ichiro whispered to Michael.
"There are too few guards for dragging Becky off," Michael whispered back. "So at least we know Sam is alive."
"Everyone ready?!" Conner shouted.
Reynolds and the guards were standing with him at this point.
"Ready when you are," Reynolds said, straightening his tie.
The camera crews each gave affirmations.
Conner walked forward several feet and scratched a line in the sand before returning to his position.
"Michael! Ichiro! Becky! Stand in front of me."
The three walked to the line.
"Less than an hour ago. Casey of Samundra was evicted from the game for stealing and thrashing Vegeta's camp. Knowing of your own previous attempts of the same, we are here to have you affirm your understanding of the rules and pledge to not to attempt it again.
"Becky! You are a vile Homo Sapiens; I will never call you Human. In any sane situation, you would already be in an orange jumpsuit, and if God doesn't intervene, you may still do."
Michael turned and glared at her.
Becky was completely unmoved and disinterested.
"Do you understand that entering another team's camp and especially their shelter to steal or sabotage is an expellable offense? Yes or no?"
"Yeah," she said dismissively.
Conner got in her face. "YES or NO," he barked.
Becky mockingly yawned, putting her hand to her mouth before drawing her hand back and looking at her fingernails. "I said YeeEeesss," she stretched out the word. She looked Conner in the eyes and smiled.
Reynolds clamped his hand on Conner's shoulder. "Move on. She's not worth it," he said.
Becky tilted her head and smiled cheekily at Reynolds before turning around and walking back towards the rug.
Conner turned to Ichiro. "Ichiro. Do you understand that entering another team's camp and especially their shelter to steal or sabotage is an expellable offense? Yes or no?"
"Yes," he said strongly.
Conner turned to Michael. "Michael. Do you understand that entering another team's camp and especially their shelter to steal or sabotage is an expellable offense? Yes or no?"
"Yes. I understand that entering another team's camp and especially their shelter to steal or sabotage is an expellable offense," Michael parroted back.
"You will be held to this oath. If you break it, you will be expelled exactly like Casey. You are dismissed." Conner turned around and walked back towards the boat.
Before they left, Jason walked up to Reynolds. Reynolds held up his hand. "I know what you are going to ask. Just keep your team quiet until Monday. Things will go back to normal after that," he said softly.
Jason nodded and Reynolds caught up to the boat.
It raced off.
"Good God…" Michael said. "And I thought our group was completely out of control…"
"You mean out of your control!" Becky shouted from laying on the rug again.
Michael and Ichiro glanced at her before returning to each other.
"With everything Vegeta has done for them, that makes no logical sense," Michael said, scratching his head. "Why? And in broad daylight? Deliberately getting caught? What the hell?! That's suicide!"
"Maybe she thought he was an alien?!" Becky shouted again.
"That…" Ichiro paused, measuring his words, "makes too much sense."
Michael smiled as he sighed relieved, "Yes… Yes, that makes perfect sense. She was a nutjob. Their loose cannon. Removed, their team will remain stable. Predictable."
"We've lost Sam though," Ichiro said. "It's just the two of us now."
"Still 3-3 voting with Becky, but yeah. For all practical purposes, just us." He scowled at Becky. "That bitch has ruined us."
"No," Ichiro said.
Michael jerked his head back to him, shocked.
"It was Vegeta. Vegeta and Vegeta alone."
"Ichiro," Michael said firmly. "Now is the time to take a step back and reassess our situation." He slapped the back of his right hand into the palm of his left, "You can't magically will what you want into existence by pure anger. Rein it in. We have hard choices to make going forward and emotions can blind us and leave us vulnerable in unexpected ways."
Vegeta and company came out of the grass into the second camp. They discovered Sugar Petal being filmed. Randy was holding his cellphone horizontally in front of her.
Conner's voice came from the phone. "Sugar Petal. Do you understand that entering another team's camp and especially their shelter to steal or sabotage is an expellable offense? Yes or no?"
She bowed politely, "Yes I understand."
"Thank you, Sugar Petal. We can always count on you."
"I am not worthy of such praise," she answered.
"Don't sell yourself short. Good luck. Your teammates should be arriving shortly."
"Thank you."
"I'm ending the video call. Thank you, Randy."
"You're welcome, Conner," Randy said as he held the phone normally again.
The call ended and he put the phone back in his pocket.
"We're back!" Vegeta called out before he walked out of the grass.
*bark* *bark* *bark* *bark*
"Yes I know you hate my ass," Vegeta said walking up.
"Hey there, Mark. Are you a good puppy?"
*Yip* *Yip* Mark ran over to Hassim.
Hassim knelt down and the puppy jumped in his arms.
"Ok. You guys settle in. I'm going to see what Casey did then be right back up." Vegeta turned to leave with his basket.
"Did Casey really destroy our home?" Sugar Petal asked.
"Well, she didn't set it on fire," Vegeta said. "Probably a huge fucking mess though." He patted the basket. "Stuff in here was from multiple baskets."
"The food was stored in your house," she said.
"I'm aware," he said as he hurried out of sight down the hill.
Nathan's crew followed on his heels.
"Well," Hassim said, "Everyone find a seat."
Jerry sat on the main shelter. They heard a crunch and sank. "Woah…" He stood, "This one is a little wobbly huh?"
"That's… my fault," Jessica said sheepishly, "I'm sorry."
"The other side is perfectly fine," Sugar Petal said.
Jerry walked around and sat. "Oh, this is much better. So how did you even break this if the other side was this strong?"
"Umm, remember when you said no bueno?"
"Ah…" he said, getting it, "Forget I asked."
"Here, you can use my stool, Jessica." She picked it up and moved it to the other side of the trough next to the broken dent in the shelter. Sugar Petal then sat next to Randy in the other shelter.
Hassim sat down on a stool near Sugar Petal.
"So… probably going to be a quiet time since we can't talk about anything really," Jerry said, kicking his feet up and leaning against one of the posts.
"May I ask why Casey stole from us?" Sugar Petal said, turning around.
"You can ask Vegeta himself later tonight," Randy answered.
"I see," she said. She turned back around and hung her head.
"Don't look so gloomy Sugar Petal," Jerry said. "That look doesn't fit your pretty face."
She blushed but did not look up.
"You look really good with your hair down," he continued, "You look more mature. Easily adds a few years. You look like you're in your 20s."
"Mr. Vegeta and Hassim said the same thing. Thank you very much."
"How much are extensions? If I'm going to braid your hair, I don't want to accidentally pull any loose."
"I don't have any."
"Really? That's all your hair down to your knees? Wow, I'm jealous. Mine barely reaches my ass."
"Language," Randy said.
"Ok. Mine barely reaches my tooshie," Jerry said. "Tooshie. Tooshie. Tooshie. Tooshie. Tooshie. Tooshie. Tooshie. Tooshie. Tooshie…"
Sugar Petal giggled.
The crews try to ignore the situation, but fail one by one.
"Tooshie. Tooshie. Tooshie. Tooshie. Tooshie…"
"Jerry!" Jessica said, clenching her eyes shut and her hand over her mouth. "You got her to laugh."
"Not you yet!" he responded. "Tooshie. Tooshie. Tooshie…"
Jessica finally broke. "Ok, you win. Stop."
"Still one left," he said. "Tooshie. Tooshie Tooshie…"
Hassim looked at him flat faced. "You will get Vegeta to laugh before me."
Jerry pouted, "You must be a joy at parties."
*fuzz* Randy, Vegeta wants to know if Jessica and Jerry are allowed snacks. *fuzz*
"No," Randy answered. "And he knows better."
*fuzz* He wants to know if he can invite them into the main camp. *fuzz*
"No," Randy said. "Vegeta, are you trying to get help cleaning up?"
*fuzz*He's trying to get help chasing, Hey!— Kentucky Colonel get your goddess damn ass down here. Sugar, stay up there. *fuzz*
Hassim looked up and moaned. Then he stood.
"I'll be back," he sighed as he stood up. He disappeared down the path.
Hassim arrived at camp.
"Did Casey knock down part of the wall?!"
"I know! And both the upper and lower gates were wide open! That bitch did this on purpose. Gah! When this mess is over, I'm finding something with massive thorns all over it. Help me get this panel back up."
"So, you want to get your hair started?" Jerry asked.
"Umm, actually Vegeta wanted me to have how his mother braided her hair for the jewelry he was making… But Casey probably destroyed everything."
"Yeah… Casey dumped a bunch of bead work in the sand," Jerry said. "I wonder how he even met the Briefs? I know what he said about himself, and he definitely knows his way about living like this."
"They met at Namek. She was on a humanitarian mission and his owner was there personally to rob and kill everyone. He had already been outed for treason so he was slinking around as an assassin. Her guards ended up helping because it was the only way to get out alive. Afterwards, Bulma called him cute and invited him home."
"Damn."
"You forgot the part where she saved her own life by tricking the soldiers who captured her that the treasure Lord Frieza was after was in a cave she knew was a mother's animal den. Bulma may not be a very fast runner, but she only needed to be faster than everyone else."
Vegeta's smiling face came into view as he came up.
"Double damn."
Vegeta shrugged his shoulders, "What can I say. My beautiful wife has a sexy sexy body count. That wasn't even her first time. Her stories of past missions gone wrong are quite numerous."
"You would find a body count sexy," Jessica said.
"Well like my mother-in-law said, when you fall in love with what a person secretly hates about themselves, everything else becomes easy."
"So you secretly hate being a good person?" Sugar Petal asked sorrowfully.
"What?!" Vegeta said, panicking. "No that's not it!"
"Then you hate the fact you like being a good person?" Jessica asked.
"I'm not lazy!"
"You think being a good person is lazy?" Jerry chuckled.
Vegeta stormed over to him.
"Woah, woah, dude chill."
Vegeta flicked him in the forehead before turning around and leaving.
"Are you ok?!" Randy shouted.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Didn't even hurt. Guess he was just messing with— huh? Oh. Oooooooh. I know why he did that."
"Then why?" Randy asked.
"Never mind!" Jerry said. He hit his right fist down on his left palm. "I know the perfect braid for you. Vegeta will definitely approve."
"Umm… shouldn't we wait for Mr. Vegeta?"
"I've seen the pictures," Randy said. "No way it can be cleaned and still have time for this before sundown."
"Oh ok," she turned back to Jerry. "But if Mr. Vegeta isn't happy with what you did, you're in trouble!" she stuck out her tongue.
"Don't worry. He will definitely approve."
"Vegeta put a picture in his head," Freddy whispered to Ted.
"Yeah, But I wonder how much of that conversation was staged?"
"You mean Bulma being a killer herself?"
"No, that makes perfect sense," Ted said. "I mean him thinking good people are lazy."
"I don't want to really think about what goes on inside his head too closely."
Sugar Petal moved her stool next to Jerry and gave him several strands of banana fiber string to tie her hair with.
He began.
He divided her hair into three and made one long braid in the middle just like his.
Then he had her tilt her head and carefully made two braids that did not pull at the glue and added them to the main brain as an accent.
Then he had her turn around and tilted her head the other way to make it easier to braid many small braids on her good side.
Next, he threaded every single one through the top braid so all her hair fell across her cut. He began braiding the braids together.
Jessica could tell by his face he was struggling and came around to look.
"Are you making a Macrame out of her hair?" she said, surprised.
"Is that what you call this?" Jerry asked. "Wanna help?" he asked, not waiting for an answer.
"Yeah, move over." Jessica sat next to him.
"Point out what Vegeta put in your head," she whispered in his ear.
"Wish he flicked your forehead instead of mine," he whispered back.
Sun was edging low when Vegeta came back up.
"Oh, hey Vegeta!" Jerry raised his arm. "We were just leaving."
Vegeta wasn't paying attention. He had blanched white, staring at Sugar Petal.
"Are you ok, dude?"
Jessica and Sugar Petal, who were saying their goodbyes, turned around.
"Perfect!" he blurted out. Then immediately turned around and ran.
Sugar Petal hung her head.
"Sugar? You ok, girl?" Jerry asked.
"I think I look like his mother… It's the only reason I can think of why he would care about someone like me."
"Hey, don't be like that," Jerry said. "Everyone cares about you because you're awesome!"
"But do you love Sugar Petal or do you love me?" she said. "No one loves me."
"Ok, what's your real name?" Jessica asked. "We can call you that."
"I'm not allowed to break character, ever."
"Ah, one of those dumb ass managers," he scratched his head. "Yeah, when I started out, one manager wanted me to test positive on a drug test because it was good publicity. When the rest of my original band went along with it, I quit. They've all died now, even that dumb manager has ODed." Jerry shrugged, "I still get hassled for it by my bandmates for being too tight laced."
Jerry put his hand on her shoulder, "Oh, I know! Let's do a joint tour! Wanna be my opening act?"
"I'm sorry. My future has been decided. Maybe if Vegeta manages to kill God, then we can talk."
"What do you mean by kill God?"
"Whatever god rules, only what he wills exists underneath him. It doesn't matter what religion. Fate is fate. All predestined. All destiny. Bad things happen to you because of bad karma from past lives no matter how good you try to be, or because you disrupt the harmony of the world by disobeying the men the divine order put above you. Or the elect and the chaff to be burned on the fire. The elect are good and can do no wrong so all good comes from them and to them. An elect could do what on the surface looks like the most evil acts in the world but none of that will matter because the will of God is unknowable to all but those chosen by God. It only proves you are destined to hell by not recognizing the righteousness of their actions."
"Wait!" Jessica dropped everything and grabbed her shoulders when she tried to turn to walk away. "That sounds way too familiar. What church are you?"
"The Nahm's are my owners."
"Owners?" Jerry said not liking the sound of that.
She looked at Jerry. "Yes. They own boarding schools, the talent schools, the finishing schools, the marriage agency, the record labels, and a lot of other things. They have owned me since I was 9 years old."
"Marriage agency?"
"Yes, any man working for the Nahms must apply to the marriage agency to find a wife. Any girl owned by the Nahm's have until a certain age to prove to their guardians that they are holy enough to serve their purpose as a woman. If they fail by that age or their guardian dismisses them at any point, then they serve no purpose in this world or the next."
Jerry," Jessica warned, taking her right hand off Sugar Petal's shoulder and putting it on his chest.
She turned her head back to Sugar Petal, "Thank you for explaining things to Jerry. May God open all roads to you."
Sugar Petal gasped as she smiled ear to ear. "Yes! May God open all roads to you, too."
She turned and left down the hill.
"Get after her," Randy ordered. "I'll be right down."
Freddy and Ted went down.
"Ok Miss Hindu nun, what was that about?" Jerry demanded.
Jessica put both her hands on his shoulders and shook him. "Jerry, the Nahms are worldwide evangelical royalty with the political power to match. King Arthur Furry only won his second, third and fourth elections by a couple dozen individual votes each time because they turned on him. After that they courted his son and got him into politics."
"Ah yeah, I remember the scandals about King Arthur actively campaigning against his own son. But how do you know all of this?"
"The Nahms are the last bloodline of the Grahams. One of the sons 80 years ago married a Graham daughter. Then after she gave birth to a boy, the entire family died in a private jet crash on the way to Korea to visit, making her the sole heir to 20 private Christian colleges plus several dozen religious charter schools and homeschool programs."
"You're parents?"
"Yeah, I was homeschooled until high school then I went to religious school and got a full scholarship to their affiliated college…" Jessica started to cry.
Jerry hugged her.
Meanwhile, at Berapi…
The three were eating coconut around the fire as the sun began to go down when a new boat full of security came to shore. They then tossed a limp body on the sand and left.
"What the hell is that?" Becky asked dismissively.
"Sam?!" Ichiro yelled. He jumped to his feet and ran.
Michael stood and grabbed Becky's arm. "You're coming too. Can't have you steal our food while we're gone."
The three arrive and see Sam limp on his stomach, his lower legs in the water. There is a folded piece of paper sticking out of his back pocket. Michael grabbed it while Ichiro rolled him over.
"Sam?! Sam?!"
"Hey…" Sam answered weakly, "I'm not dead."
"Thank Kami for that," Ichiro said.
He looked him up and down and spotted his leg. He looked up at Michael, "Michael, help me with him."
"Yeah," Michael said, quickly refolding the paper and shoving it in his pants waist.
Ichiro propped him up and he and Michael threw an arm over their shoulders and dragged him back.
"Sam, can you help us with your other leg?" Michael asked.
"No, not really…"
Ok, I need a break. Let's stick him up by the trees."
"Don't worry Sam, we're halfway there," Ichiro said.
They carefully laid him down on the ground.
"Guys," Michael said softly, nodding his head away.
Michael led them almost down to the water's edge. He pulled the paper out, unfolded it, and showed it to them.
"Sam's medical report." He turned it around so he could read it.
"Fractured skull," he glared and leaned his face at Becky before standing straight and continued reading. "Bleeding in the brain. Shaded vision. Loss of motor control and sensation on the left side. Chance of stroke and death 83% tonight, dropping to 65% if he survives the next week."
"Are they going to let us eat him or something?"
"Becky!" the men shouted at the same time.
"Ok. It was a joke," Becky took a step back.
The men returned to the paper.
"Whiplashed neck. Mangled right ankle. Severe sprain, no bone fractures." Michael looked up from it, "That's it. No care instructions or anything." He looked back down at the paper shaking in his hands, "Are they really just planning to film us finding him dead in the morning? What the hell!"
"That must mean Sugar Petal actually almost died," Ichiro said looking up from the sand, "It wasn't just for the cameras." Then he shook his head, "No. No. No way in hell that man would save anyone." He then grabbed the paper, crushing it in his hand.
"Hey," Michael said angrily and surprised.
"This is all fake just to make us panic," he finished crushing it into a ball with both his hands and chucked it into the ocean. "The most Sam has is a nasty concussion. I've lost sensation in one side after two different line drives to my head. It cleared up in two days. Only thing we need to worry about is his damn leg."
"Are you positive?" Michael pointed at him. "Are you positive about this?"
"Absolutely," Ichiro said confidently.
"Then you're in charge of Sam. Since you've had these really bad concussions before."
"Then let's leave him where he is overnight," Ichiro said, crossing his arms. "Teach him a lesson for going along with the producers' bullshit."
"And you are completely sure this is bullshit?"
"Michael," Ichiro said forcefully, almost screaming. "This is fake. Everything is fake! Sugar-chan was in no danger and neither is Sam."
Michael put his hands up, "Ok. Ok. Ok. Sam is your responsibility. No matter what."
He grabbed Becky's arm and dragged her back towards the fire.
Ichiro went back up to Sam.
Sam thought something was very wrong as Ichiro lorded over him. He would have expected that look from Becky.
"You ok… buddy?"
"Don't buddy me," Ichiro said. "I know you're faking."
"Faking? …Wah… Why?"
"That piece of paper in your back pocket said you had an 80% chance of dying from a stroke in the next couple days. There is no way in hell that's real. You would have been medevacked for that. They just want to film us panicking."
"But… Becky…"
"Fucked you up just like Sugar Petal. They lied about her. They are lying about you. So, drop whatever script the producers have you playing along with."
"Why… Sugar…?"
Ichiro knelt down, "Because that man would never save a life."
"Ichiro," several crew members said at once.
Ichiro glanced up at them not caring then returned to glaring at Sam. "That's all the proof I need."
"I overheard… the producers… I know… who he is…"
Ichiro stood. "And you're STILL siding with him?"
"I'm… not—"
Ichiro took two steps back, then wound up and kicked his head like a field goal.
Sam's head jerked so hard his shoulder lifted off the sand.
While both his and Sam's crews screamed and dropped everything to help him, Ichiro limped back to the fire.
"What happened?!" Michael stood and called out.
Ichiro waved his hand dismissively. "Kicked that bastard in the ribs. He's fine," Ichiro lied. "Think I broke a toe, though."
Michael sat back down. He looked at Becky, "Congratulations, you've been downgraded from 1st degree murder to assault."
The sun was just a sliver on the horizon, and all the ATVs were packed and ready to go.
"Everyone go on ahead," Jason ordered. "I need to have one last talk with the players."
The crews all left, leaving just Jason and his ATV at the beginning of the track. He turned around and began walking back towards the camp.
Ichiro noticed first. "Hey Michael, Jason is coming back."
Oh?" Michael stuck his head out of the shelter. "Ah… looks like he's talking to the baked potato first."
Jason walked up to Becky. "Becky, quick talk."
"Yeah, what do you want?" she said not rolling over to look at him.
"Don't give me that, Bobby told me you are on the secret payroll just like me."
"Oh? I thought you were assigned to Vegeta when we started?"
"That was last minute after Ichiro told us what we can't tell you."
"So, what do you want?"
"Reynolds told me privately to keep you under control for a week, then everything will go back to normal."
"That producer is in on it?"
"I don't know who you spoke with," Jason smiled, "But that guy was the one who personally handed me the check. That he came here after Bobby was tossed on his ass wasn't an accident."
"While I'm sure 200 million zeni is a life changing amount for a lowly cameraman like yourself, my family makes double that off just one of our hotels in a season. I'm here just to have fun. Haven't bullied a girl to death since boarding school. I can't wait to feel the rush seeing her in open casket. I haven't felt ecstasy like that since, no matter how much drugged up sex I've had."
"Yeah, I saw your file. You're pretty sick."
"That coming from the man who beat someone unconscious screaming I am God is hilarious."
"Yeah, you and my two ex-wives…" Jason said. "But I highly doubt you will be allowed to see her corpse."
"Why?" she rolled over and smiled. "They agreed to my only condition for doing this almost instantly." Her smile turned to a snarl, "Now if I could only see HIS corpse, that would be beautiful."
"Well, like I said. Keep it down for a week. I'll tell you guys when it is safe to continue."
Jason walked away and Becky turned back around. He did not even glance at Sam as he walked past.
"Michael, Ichiro, come with me. Now," he ordered when he arrived at the fire.
Ichiro stood and Michael crawled out of the shelter to follow him. Jason walked around camp and over to the cliff face.
"Alright," Jason said, turning around. "As I just told Becky, I spoke to Reynolds after that speech. He said to not let you guys pull anything like that again for a week while things calm down. So keep Becky under control and no more malicious sojourns at night unless given the go ahead by the producers. Got it?"
"Yes," Ichiro said instantly.
Michael nodded, "Absolutely."
"Good," Jason said, turning around. "I need to catch up with the others."
Meanwhile, at Vegeta's camp…
Vegeta dropped down after going missing for over an hour.
"You skip out on the work then show up for dinner huh?" Hassim glares at him.
"I'll finish everything overnight. You can just go to bed."
Vegeta took a deep breath when he spotted Sugar Petal.
She noticed.
Sugar Petal walked up to him and bowed. "I'm sorry my resemblance to your mother was so disturbing you ran away. I'm ready to try another hair style."
Hassim turned around from cooking shocked.
Vegeta became noticeably awkward. "It's not my mother you resemble. She… she had a very close friend who after my father murdered her, she wore her hair like that in protest." He struggled to bring his eyes to look at her, "She wasn't a Saiyan, and her species had naturally pink hair."
"So the only reason you've been doing everything for me is—"
"Don't even finish that sentence," Vegeta growled. He looked at her. "My brain did not connect that dot until I saw you just then. The thought had never occurred to me before. I care about you because you are you. Touch the necklace around your neck if you ever doubt me."
Sugar Petal touched her necklace, then nodded.
"Good. Hey Hassim! How's dinner coming over there?!"
Meanwhile, at the resort…
The sun had set, but there was still some red left on the horizon. After searching the suite, she had tested the volume of the taser strapped to her neck. She was surprised at how loud the illuminati was allowing her to be, but concluded it was so her interrogators did not need to remove the collar when they came for her.
With nothing better to do, Casey juggled the empty milk carton, OJ bottle and the balled-up paper towels from dinner.
Suddenly a large falling object plunged past her balcony and she heard fabric snap taut. She looked and saw bedsheets tied like a rope past her balcony. She opened the door and looked down.
Nick was dangling from the end.
Tied around his neck.
"Nick?!" she shouted only to be thrown to the ground electrocuted. Her screams kept her flailing for nearly a minute. She shakily got back up and began to pull him up.
"Wait," she thought as she looked up. The sheets reached past the balcony above her to two rooms above.
"If there's nothing in the room above me, this is the perfect time to escape! I've wasted too much time as it is!"
"Your death will be a noble sacrifice for the saving of humanity," she said softly, dropping him back down and snapping it tight again, then hurriedly climbed over the railing putting her weight on the sheet rope.
Casey began to climb.
She got four handholds up before it gave way.
Trunks was in the elevator with his grandparents heading down for dinner. Trunks suddenly stopped talking and looked at the wall.
"Trunks, what is it?"
"Two people goed away, but they really close," he said confused. He looked back up at them, "They didn't goed away like Papa. He goed away after I can't see him."
The door opened at the fourth floor and Trunks ran out.
"Trunks! God damn it," Dr. Brief pushed through the crowd. The door shut on Panchy before she could get out.
"You're not allowed on this floor."
Dr. Brief turned around and saw Mr. Reynolds and three assistants.
He sighed seeing the last person he wanted. "Trunks ran out the elevator door on this floor. Said something about people going away really close…"
"What does that even mean?" Reynolds asked.
"I don't know," Dr. Brief threw his arms up in the air. "I've been searching for over 15 minutes.
"Grandpa!"
Everyone turned around and saw Trunks at the very end of the hall.
"I found them! They goed away while sleeping!" Trunks said pointing into a room. He went inside.
The group entered the conference room and found Trunks standing on a chair looking out the large windows.
"Boy!" Reynolds shouted from the door, "Get your butt out of this room right now!"
Dr. Brief was surprised Trunks did not scream and cry like two nights ago. He just looked at him then stared blankly out the window.
"They don't look very comfy."
"Is someone on the roof?" an aide went to the window next to Trunks.
He screamed and practically jumped on the table.
The others entered and went to the windows.
Dr. Brief instantly grabbed his grandson and ran from the room.
"Let's catch up to Nana, Trunks. Momma is probably wondering where we are."
Trunks began to whimper, "Is going away while sleeping bad?"
"Oh, God damn it. You're psychic now, aren't you? Umm, no. It's not bad at all! Just being on the roof is bad. They are in really bad trouble, that's all. They are perfectly fine otherwise. Perfectly fine."
The door on the elevator opened, and Conner and a security guard walked off with Panchy and Bulma.
"Momma!" Trunks said gleefully.
"Hold the door!" Dr. Brief shouted as he ran as fast as his old legs could.
He practically tossed Trunks into his mother's arms. "Inside now. Let's go to dinner."
"Momma! There's two people sleeping on the roof!"
Conner looked into Trunks' face, "There's two people sleeping on the roof?" He then looked at Dr. Brief, who was shaking his head, mouthing "Not that type of sleep."
"Grandpa said they're not allowed to sleep there, that's way everyone who sees them is crying because of how bad they are."
"Oh Mary," Conner said, ushering them into the elevator. "Now that the boy is found, go head to dinner, we will be there shortly."
The door shut.
As it went down, Dr. Brief leaned against the wall and looked at the ceiling.
He was white as a ghost.
"Grampa want to cry too?" Trunks asked.
"Yes, Grandpa wants to cry…" he admitted.
Panchy walked over and hugged him.
Those three floors felt like an eternity until they opened to the safety of the lobby. They entered the dining room with the other family visitors and the guards closed all the doors to the room the second they entered.
"Last of the guests have entered," the guard said into his radio. "It's safe to proceed."
*fuzz* Make sure they don't sit near anyone and don't let that brat brag about people sleeping on the roof. *fuzz*