Nature's Predators

[Deamon]

G048 - Cameron Herrig: Start

There was a pattern in the wood of the ceiling, like a spiral. Spirals were interesting to Cameron, they didn't really end and they didn't really begin. They just were. They just existed.

Which was very similar to her current state of being at that moment.

She hadn't moved since she'd woken up, not because the gas had paralyzed her. Her shaking body disproved that theory. Shell-shock was the closest concept Cameron could think up that described herself. Staring up at the wooden ceiling, taking in its every detail. It helped.

She blinked the tears out of her eyes. Just when everything was starting to sort itself out this had to happen. It wasn't fair.

Feeling the bile start to come up in her throat Cameron rolled sideways and vomited over the side of the bed.

"Fuck."

She vomited again. Heaving Cameron coughed the last remnants of spit from her mouth onto the wood floor.

"God...fuck."

The taste of vomit jolted Cameron into action she sat up and tore her bag open, not even stopping to look at its contents until she found a bottle of water. Greedily she took some of it in her mouth, swished it around and spat it out onto the floor. Repeating the process until the acidic taste was gone.

"Ok...now what?"

[Iceblock†]

((G053: Melanie Beckett starts))

"Gross."

Any other time, any other situation, Mel probably would have cracked wise. Made a better joke, at least.

Instead, her voice was stretched thin, the amusement in it forced. She could feel a tightening knot in her chest, a red, orange, white-hot pit of anger slowly growing within her.

The terrorists had shown them that film, about how far their old friendships would get them - that was, shot in the back, because Survival of the Fittest would put divisions between all of them and shatter their faith in each other until there was nothing to do but fight and die.

But right now, there was only one division she was willing to accept. Only two groups that existed.

Her class, and the terrorists.

The terrorists wanted them to believe otherwise. They wanted to see a repeat of every single time this had happened before. They wanted to pound their mantra into every one of her classmates' heads until it was part of their thoughts, part of her thoughts, until it was something that even she'd just blindly accept and obey. Friend against friend, kill or be killed.

Fuck that.

For her part, Mel hadn't vomited when she'd woken up a few rooms away, but then again, she'd been trying as hard as she could not to think about what had happened to Mr. Graham. Trying not to remember a life extinguished before her just like that. She'd hauled herself out, pushed open a couple doors, and here she was, half-in the doorway. She hesitated a moment before stepping fully in.

"Hey, Cameron," she said, raising a hand in halfhearted greeting. "Bad time to drop in?"

[Deamon]

Cameron's head shot around to see Melanie Beckett standing in the doorway. She gave a forced grin, it probably didn't reach her eyes.

"Been better times." Cameron took another drink and swallowed it, returning the wave. Cameron knew a little about Melanie from school, she was into art, was pretty chill as a person. All in all there were worse people to meet after just waking up. She didn't want to meet Coleen or Vanessa yet, not before she had her wits about her. Not before she had her brain under control. Right now she wasn't much use to them, she probably would have been more a hindrance.

As Cameron looked at Melanie she spotted the pickaxe that was set down next to her on the bed. It must have been her weapon. Cameron stared at it for a moment before snapping her attention back to Melanie. She knew what the terrorists wanted her to do. They would have loved for her to pick up the pickaxe and drive it through Melanie's skull. She wasn't going to give them that though, not unless Melanie attacked her. Then...well...that would be dealt with if it happened.

"Assuming you've had a better morning?"

[Iceblock†]

"Definitely," Mel said. "What's not to love?"

She sighed.

"The cabin's not too bad, though."

It was about as normal as a conversation in the school halls. Like they were exchanging greetings in art class. Like the pickaxe wasn't just sitting there innocently, planted by the terrorists to hint at what could change, what could happen in an instant of paranoia.

She bounced on the balls of her feet, restless energy getting the best of her, all too aware of the duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She'd been so pissed she hadn't even bothered to check for a weapon, supplies, a map, anything. Had just hitched it right up and gone looking for someone else.

"Need some help getting up? We oughta get you out of this room full of sick, at least."

[Deamon]

Cameron tilted her head from side-to-side, considering what Mel had said. The cabin wasn't the worst place in the world to wake up, she had even had the pleasure of waking up on a bed. Granted it was old and smelled of moss and mold, but it was still a bed. She waved off Mel's offer.

"No I'll get myself up." She said as she swung her legs over the side, taking particular care to ensure she didn't put her sneakers in the pile of sick she had made. "Thanks for the offer." Cameron took another sip from her water once she was on her feet before closing the bottle and tossing it back into her pack. G048 was stenciled onto the side. Cameron pulled a face at the idea of being made a number. It was another way the terrorists tried to convince to take part in their game. Give them numbers.

Slinging the bag over her shoulder, Cameron took the pickaxe in her right hand. As she did so she noticed her tattoo, it was still new, so the colours appeared vibrant, almost alive. There was pang of remorse as she realised that she would never get to be on stage again, never get a chance to perform or paint herself. It also reminded her of the one good part of the situation. B.B. and Brady were still alive, they hadn't been going the same day the rest of them had been. They were safe. She smiled.

The pickaxe was heavier than expected but it wasn't unwieldy, it was almost reassuring for Cameron to know that she had the potential to use her weapon. She wasn't completely helpless.

"Alright." She said with a small sigh, her smile sliding off her face as she turned her attention back to Mel and their current situation. "Let's get out of here."

[Iceblock†]

Mel frowned slightly when Cameron grabbed the pickaxe. She wasn't sure why, at first. It wasn't like she could fault her for making sure she brought her things along.

No, it was that it was a necessary thing, that it felt necessary to bring a weapon along to use in self-defense. Even if Cameron trusted her enough to shoot the breeze with for a few minutes, the thought unspoken was that there were possible adversaries out there, somewhere.

It made sense to defend yourself, she thought. Plenty of situations could call for it, like a mugging or a home invasion. Feeling like you had to defend yourself at any moment, though, from people you actually knew - that was the terrorists' doing, the situation they had created.

She resisted the urge to pick at the collar around her neck.

"We're getting 'out of here' out of here, not 'right out of the cabin' out of here, right?"

Mel left the room first anyway, finding herself back in the hallway. This time, she walked to the end, stopping at the top of a staircase. The ground floor stretched out beneath her, and she paused for a moment to take it in, before resting her bag on the ground.

"I suppose it'd be too much to ask if they'd left my mom's camera," she muttered. She raised her voice a bit for Cameron's benefit. "Gimme a moment to look through my bag?"

[Deamon]

Cameron nodded, as much to herself as to Mel's question. "Yeah out of the room." There was no point leaving the cabin, as far as they knew it was completely safe. If anyone else was with them inside they had kept quiet or hadn't heard them. Cameron wasn't sure of the likelihood of either of those scenarios but they were something she would have to keep in mind. Everything was different now, she had to chance her primary concerns. Reassess how she thought about things.

Following Mel out of the room, Cameron scanned the extent of the cabin. It was big that was for sure, in any other context she would have loved to stay. The open plan of it allowed easy views of everything, although the tiger skin rug was a tacky touch. Mel wanted to look through her bag. Cameron was almost surprised that she hadn't already done so, but it wasn't her business what the other girl had been doing while she had been heaving up her guts.

She lent forwards onto the wooden railing of the second floor, resting her forearms on it.

"Go for it."

The cabin itself seemed to be in good condition. So far the worst thing she had experienced had been the bed, her own vomit and the idea of being alone.

"So, what do you reckon...we stick together and then..." It dawned on Cameron that she hadn't given any thought to what she was going to do. Instead her question drifted out of her mouth and off into the ether, leaving an uneasy silence in it's wake.

[Iceblock†]

The silence was broken by Mel's chuckling.

"Here," she said, "catch," and tossed Elmo at Cameron's arms.

She hadn't known what she had expected when she opened up the bag. A weapon, probably. Even something unorthodox, like Cameron's pickaxe. Not this.

You know, this was okay.

The past few minutes, she'd been obsessing over the terrorists and what their intentions were, trying not to play into their hands. Sure, this joke of a weapon was a gift from them. But she found herself not really caring to look into what it might mean, like if it was meant to manipulate her into feeling some way or another.

It felt good to laugh, and that was good enough. Maybe ignoring the terrorists was a small victory all its own.

Grinning, she zipped up her bag and turned to face Cameron, with the map of the island in one hand and the strap of her bag in the other.

"Sure," Mel said. "We stick together, we go find the others. After that... I've got some thoughts about all of this, but..." Now it was her turn to trail off and shrug, grin fading, before poking at the map. "Any ideas?"

[Deamon]

The pickaxe clattered to the floor as Cameron caught Elmo.

"Oh huh." Mel had not had the best of luck with her 'weapon', even calling it a weapon was being generous. "That's unlucky." Cameron started laughing a little along with Mel. It felt good to have something lighthearted happen. Doom was overrated. For a few moments they were back home, laughing at a stupid joke, escapism at it's purest. Sadly though they had come back to reality. Tucking Elmo under her arm Cameron bent down and retrieved her pickaxe from where it lay on the floor.

Shuffling over next to Mel, Cameron had a look at the map. It took her a moment to figure out where they were in relation to everything else on the map. "I'm down for sticking together." She said as much to herself as to Mel. She put her index and middle fingers on the map one over each housing block.

"These two are closest, so I'd say we check them out first. What you reckon?"

[Iceblock†]

Mel nodded. "You think we'll be able to get everyone together?"

She wasn't really sure where that had come from. She had said they'd find others, but the implication probably had been that they were finding others they actually cared about. It wasn't as if she didn't care about the rest of her classmates - Cameron in particular had gone up a few notches in her book of decent people to hang out with in the last few minutes, for example - but it wasn't as if she was equally fond of all of them. Give her the company of Sandy or Astrid any day over someone she just greeted in the hall.

Was that what she wanted, anyway? Everyone together, taking a stand against the terrorists so that they would all be murdered directly instead of indirectly? The two groupings of people she'd imagined, but in physical form?

There was still something missing. She drew her attention back to the map.

"I'm thinking we go to the A block," she continued. "Then maybe we follow the shoreline, cross the bridge... I dunno."

She gave Cameron a small, sheepish smile, sure of only one thing that she definitely wanted. "I'd kinda like to see the ocean."

[Deamon]

Cameron shrugged at Mel's question. She didn't even know what the other girl...her partner, meant by getting everyone together. If she meant everyone of their classmates than Cameron didn't think it could be done. There were too many people, and therefore too many moving parts. They could get a smallish group together sure, anything above say five or six? That would be pushing things a little too much. She kept that part to herself however, it didn't make sense to start raining on Mel's parade as it was still preparing to start.

"Yeah sure, sounds like a plan."

The other thing she had to think about was finding Vanessa and Coleen. She knew she wanted to do that. No matter what, she needed to do that; before it was too late.

She had to smile at Mel wanting to see the ocean, it was wistful. She hadn't even thought about seeing the ocean. She had never seen it before.

"That's a good point. We have to see the ocean."

Cameron started heading down the stairs, looking around the cabin as she did so. She didn't even realise her left foot was going to miss the step until she felt her balance go, she tried to regain it but all she felt was her foot get jammed between the stairs themselves. Then she was hitting the wood. She registered the pain and heard Elmo hit the ground, eventually she stopped at the bottom, she could already feel the bruises forming on her arms and legs.

Shakily Cameron tried to push herself up onto her feet, as soon as she tried to put any weight on her left ankle however an intense burning sensation greeted her and she collapsed back onto the floor.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

[Iceblock†]

Mel stared. For a moment, she felt as if she was in freeze-frame, posing to be painted with map still held out in front of her, watching it all happen.

Then she was in motion, taking the stairs down two at a time, not even really thinking about how outright stupid that was after Cameron had just tumbled down herself.

"Are you okay?" Also stupid. "No, no you're not. Shit. Okay." She bit her lip. Glanced to the side for a moment. "Okay, just... just hold on."

She tossed Elmo and her map into her bag without a second thought, earlier amusement long past, and after only a moment of hesitation, picked up Cameron's pickaxe with her left hand. Only temporarily, she told herself.

"Here. You're taller than me." She bent down, offering her free arm. "Grab my arm, and, uh, use my shoulder."

[Deamon]

"No I'm-" Cameron cut herself off. Instead of pretending she was fine she just pushed herself around to make it easier for Mel to help. Reaching out Cameron took Mel's arm and managed to work herself back up to her feet, most of her weight resting on Mel's shoulder. She was angry with herself for being so stupid as to fall down a set of stairs, of all the things she could have done it was something as simple as walking down the stairs that messed her up. Cameron didn't know if she had just sprained her ankle or if it was broken, either way it was a major injury considering the situation.

"God fuck." Cameron buried her face in the pit of her arm. The pain was still constant, a throb that emanated from her ankle and worked it's way up her leg. She had it raised off the floor to avoid putting any more weight on it than she needed to.

"I'm sorry about this."

[Iceblock†]

Mel grit her teeth for a moment as Cameron brought herself upright. Cameron wasn't heavy, and they still had three feet between them to balance some of the weight - this wasn't like the times where Logan had decided the best way to greet her when she returned home from middle school was leaping onto her, never mind that he was in some kid phase that involved excessive hugging - but she wasn't exactly light as a feather, either.

"It's fine. I've got you," Mel said, with as much pep as she could muster. "We'll get you some ice, and... I'm not just gonna leave you here, anyway."

If this had been the science trip they'd expected, she'd have gone to find a teacher, but that was no longer an option. She forced the image of Mr. Graham's bloodied body out of her mind as soon as it reappeared. This was no time to go back to thinking about abstractions and intentions, to get angry all over again. She had to be reliable.

Cameron was, on some real physical level, depending on her now, and that scared her more than she cared to admit.

Mel moved both of them towards the door, determined to at least try to find something. Find people. Find help for Cameron's leg. Find the direction she was looking for.

"Tell me when you need to rest, okay?"

She could do this.

((Melanie Beckett and Cameron Herrig continued in Call Me Maybe))