((Aliya Kimia Nemati continued from Moss and Bones))
They had kept moving and Tony hadn't keeled over in that time, which was good. But they hadn't encountered anyone or found anything useful to stop Tony's inevitable decline. The traveling hadn't been tough for her physically but mentally it had been. Half of her time was spent scanning their surroundings in case someone was waiting to ambush them while the other half was spent keeping an eye on Tony and his condition. When you added in that every day she got updates on how all the people she had grown up with dying and it started to weigh on her. Sometimes when she took a watch there was nothing to do but be trapped with her thoughts. Thoughts of how there were friends and family she was never going to see again no matter what happened. How Mercy was poisoned and she had yet to do anything about that. How others were dying all the time and there was nothing she could do about any of it.
Bert was dead so she had been carrying around her packs for no reason. Even after the announcement had confirmed her demise Aliya still spent the rest of the day hauling all of the bags around, up until that evening when she had consolidated back down to two, throwing out anything that had no use. It felt wrong abandoning the personal effects of someone else, but there was nothing she could do for Bert, she had become another name among many. Another name to go onto a memorial somewhere and eventually be joined by Tony because there was nothing she could do for him either.
Meanwhile, Justin had killed again. Aliya knew that in a way assigning that murder to herself in someway was selfish. There was little she could have done, but in the back of her mind, she considered it something of her responsibility. She had failed to keep Justin under control and he killed Mackenzie, an innocent person. Another failure, along with her failure to Tony. Who was still soldiering on despite what Aliya assumed was a mortal wound she couldn't fix. There had been no sign of Justin since he had run. Aliya didn't know what would happen if she saw him. She didn't know how she'd react to him or him to her.
That was a hypothetical scenario. Just like the images she sometimes had of Quinn creeping out from the treeline or Erika shooting at them from afar. Two scenarios that played in her mind again and again, featuring both idealized and realistic results. Her knees were still jacked up. She had wrapped them both up tightly with some of the bandages from one of the first aid kits, hoping that they could act as a makeshift compression sleeve. The extra support really helped as they climbed up the island's slopes.
Eventually, the trees thinned out and they reached a clearing on the edge of a cliff. There were some benches and some kind of weird wooden platform that stretched out over the cliff face.
"We can rest here I guess." She said as she collapsed onto one of the benches and stretched her legs out, wincing at the aches that greeted her. "At least we'll have a nice view." She said, putting on a small smile as she looked over at Tony.
Code of Honor
Open
Code of Honor
V8
Aracelis Fuentes
California “Cali” Fox
Darryl Smith Jr.
Jessica Romero
Roberta “Robbie” Woodvine
Aracelis Fuentes
California “Cali” Fox
Darryl Smith Jr.
Jessica Romero
Roberta “Robbie” Woodvine
(Tony Acardi continued from Moss and Bones)
Somehow, a couple of days later, Tony was still alive.
Nothing about their journey had been easy on him, though. The first couple of times that he ate or drank, he was worried that somehow, whatever he swallowed would end up squirting back out through his chest-hole. Thankfully, that didn't happen, and he wasn't especially short of breath, either. As far as he could tell, he wound up getting ridiculously lucky in terms of places in the torso where he could be stabbed all the way through, since no major organs appeared to be pierced or especially damaged. But even if he wasn't actively dying on the ground, he still had a big hole in his chest that hadn't been treated for a couple of days.
But even though he was still standing, there was one major problem that lingered: His stamina. Tony was getting tired quickly, and he regularly had to ask Aliya to slow down so that he could have a moment to rest. He had thought that he could power through it like any other injury, and that things would get easier over time, but this time the opposite was true. The more time passed, the harder everything got. He was slower and weaker, and he was trying really damn hard not to let it show.
The announcements were hard to keep up with, largely because he was more focused on enjoying the brief respite that they took in order to listen to them than actually listening to them, but he was keeping track well enough to remember the names of people who killed, as well as people who were killed. He couldn't bring them up at will, but when they were mentioned, he remembered them.
When Aliya directed him to the benches, Tony thought that he could hear a choir of angels singing from the heavens. An actual, legitimate place to sit after spending the last couple of days either sitting on the ground, or on rocks or stumps or whatever else worked well enough. The bench looked glorious to him, and he ambled over to it with a single-minded determination to have a proper rest. He gingerly lowered himself into the seat, and felt very satisfied as he sat down.
"Yeah, that's the good shit." He said, following a satisfied sigh. "This right here, I needed one of these."
Somehow, a couple of days later, Tony was still alive.
Nothing about their journey had been easy on him, though. The first couple of times that he ate or drank, he was worried that somehow, whatever he swallowed would end up squirting back out through his chest-hole. Thankfully, that didn't happen, and he wasn't especially short of breath, either. As far as he could tell, he wound up getting ridiculously lucky in terms of places in the torso where he could be stabbed all the way through, since no major organs appeared to be pierced or especially damaged. But even if he wasn't actively dying on the ground, he still had a big hole in his chest that hadn't been treated for a couple of days.
But even though he was still standing, there was one major problem that lingered: His stamina. Tony was getting tired quickly, and he regularly had to ask Aliya to slow down so that he could have a moment to rest. He had thought that he could power through it like any other injury, and that things would get easier over time, but this time the opposite was true. The more time passed, the harder everything got. He was slower and weaker, and he was trying really damn hard not to let it show.
The announcements were hard to keep up with, largely because he was more focused on enjoying the brief respite that they took in order to listen to them than actually listening to them, but he was keeping track well enough to remember the names of people who killed, as well as people who were killed. He couldn't bring them up at will, but when they were mentioned, he remembered them.
When Aliya directed him to the benches, Tony thought that he could hear a choir of angels singing from the heavens. An actual, legitimate place to sit after spending the last couple of days either sitting on the ground, or on rocks or stumps or whatever else worked well enough. The bench looked glorious to him, and he ambled over to it with a single-minded determination to have a proper rest. He gingerly lowered himself into the seat, and felt very satisfied as he sat down.
"Yeah, that's the good shit." He said, following a satisfied sigh. "This right here, I needed one of these."
"It's good right?" Aliya said with a wistful smile, before turning back to look out at the view. Her smile slowly fading away as her thoughts returned with a vengeance. They had no real plan. They had just been wandering around for the entirety of their time on the island. It had gotten them nothing except injuries. It wasn't a sustainable plan and worse it didn't help anyone. Aliya had been thinking about that a lot. The chances of anyone escaping was low. Escapes weren't really a thing as far as she knew. Besides, that one big military-style assault that had happened and the chances of that event recurring went down each day.
No, they were on their own. The end result of whatever was to come would be one of their class winning and going home. Just like the two events that had happened previously. She was under no illusions about her ability to prevent that conclusion. Escape also wasn't an option that was on the table, there hadn't been a successful one in the last two and she knew she wasn't smart enough to pull anything like people had previously. But people like Quinn and Erika were still around and they were still preying on others. That was something she could potentially impact.
She didn't know how, that was a level of planning she hadn't possessed since waking up, but it was something. Something was better than nothing. She just felt an urge and a need to do something, anything even. She didn't want to spend her time dwelling on her mistakes and failings and reacting to others taking advantage of the situation. She wanted to be proactive, to try and achieve something of value. The issue with all of that thinking, as admirable as it may have been was that it wasn't realistic for her current situation. She had two bum knees and Tony wasn't in any condition to be put through anything like the moving around that would be required.
Her teeth ground against each other as she thought. One hand went up and gently rubbed at the dulled, nearly vanished scar where she'd cut her forehead open.
"How're you feeling?" She eventually asked.
No, they were on their own. The end result of whatever was to come would be one of their class winning and going home. Just like the two events that had happened previously. She was under no illusions about her ability to prevent that conclusion. Escape also wasn't an option that was on the table, there hadn't been a successful one in the last two and she knew she wasn't smart enough to pull anything like people had previously. But people like Quinn and Erika were still around and they were still preying on others. That was something she could potentially impact.
She didn't know how, that was a level of planning she hadn't possessed since waking up, but it was something. Something was better than nothing. She just felt an urge and a need to do something, anything even. She didn't want to spend her time dwelling on her mistakes and failings and reacting to others taking advantage of the situation. She wanted to be proactive, to try and achieve something of value. The issue with all of that thinking, as admirable as it may have been was that it wasn't realistic for her current situation. She had two bum knees and Tony wasn't in any condition to be put through anything like the moving around that would be required.
Her teeth ground against each other as she thought. One hand went up and gently rubbed at the dulled, nearly vanished scar where she'd cut her forehead open.
"How're you feeling?" She eventually asked.
"You want the honest answer, or sugarcoated?" Tony replied, laughing a little to try to lift the spirits, but he gave up on that moments after he had done it. "Eh, never mind. I feel like shit. Hurts to do pretty much anything now. Thought this shit would finally start healing by now. It's been what, two days?"
He groaned in frustration. Sure, he felt all right when he was sitting on the bench, but sooner or later they would have to get up again. Maybe someone else would show up and they'd have to bail, or maybe the assholes in charge would drop a danger zone on them and they'd have to book it out of there. Either way, they'd have to get back on the move, and no matter the situation, it was going to suck, because trying to do anything sucked now. And that in itself sucked.
Tony didn't have much of a plan going forward. He didn't have a plan before he got stabbed either, but now he especially didn't have a plan. The only real goal that he had was not dying, and now that had gotten a hell of a lot harder. He flicked at the tip of his hair hanging between his eyes wistfully. Sometimes he would do this when he was thinking, but now he wasn't sure what he should be thinking about. His train of thought was aimless, but it still felt like something was holding it up. So lacking a clear idea of his own, he fell back on the old reliability of asking someone else.
"So what now?" He asked, turning to Aliya again. "You gotta have, I dunno, something in mind, right?"
He groaned in frustration. Sure, he felt all right when he was sitting on the bench, but sooner or later they would have to get up again. Maybe someone else would show up and they'd have to bail, or maybe the assholes in charge would drop a danger zone on them and they'd have to book it out of there. Either way, they'd have to get back on the move, and no matter the situation, it was going to suck, because trying to do anything sucked now. And that in itself sucked.
Tony didn't have much of a plan going forward. He didn't have a plan before he got stabbed either, but now he especially didn't have a plan. The only real goal that he had was not dying, and now that had gotten a hell of a lot harder. He flicked at the tip of his hair hanging between his eyes wistfully. Sometimes he would do this when he was thinking, but now he wasn't sure what he should be thinking about. His train of thought was aimless, but it still felt like something was holding it up. So lacking a clear idea of his own, he fell back on the old reliability of asking someone else.
"So what now?" He asked, turning to Aliya again. "You gotta have, I dunno, something in mind, right?"
(Daria Bhatia continued from The Tower)
How certain she had felt, scant days before. How fast that certainty receded, beneath the weigh of hunger, and dirt, and fear.
She wandered, ate a little (hunger pangs in her stomach), drank a little (and tried not to think of the performance a girl with the runs gave any watching cameras). She started plucking at her appearance in mirrors and reflections, trying to curtail a little of the slow wasting of days spent in madness and desperate survival. She ached, down to her heart.
And she hid, and couldn't help herself.
She wanted to be big, bad, and fearless. She wanted to do what she'd sworn to do, to walk unafraid of death and spread her message. Stop killing. Stop fighting. Let the bombs blow, if their captors had the fucking balls. Lay the burden squarely at their feet, and make them face it.
But everytime she heard people in the distance, the gun rang in her ear again, and she started to shake.
She went back to the beach, to try to find her courage. She went back to the tree and its shoes. But each time she tried to steel herself, the fear came back, thick enough to choke her.
Her wanderings finally took her to the lookout, to try and see the whole island, to try and make sense of it, to try and find her courage again. To see the 1s, to break the binary, to be bigger, to be better. She stayed there until night fell, and slept beneath a bench.
And awoke to the sound of crunching footsteps in the distance.
She moved so fast she hated herself, upright with her bag across her shoulder, dashing in a darting zigzag towards a thicker clump of trees, not even stopping to look over her shoulder to see if her unseen assailants had her in their sights. She skidded to a stop in the underbrush, flung herself down and clamped hands over her mouth as though she was trying to smother herself, waiting for the intruders to reveal themselves.
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting some more. God, they were slow. They advanced unsteadily towards the benches.
"We can rest here I guess," said one figure, collapsing into the bench Daria had just fled. "At least we'll have a nice view."
"Yeah," sighed the other, after sinking down. "That's the good shit."
Daria vaguely recognized both voices. Aliya and Tony, she thought. She didn't know either of them particularly well, and there was pain in Tony's voice. He was hurt (he said as much, something about trouble healing).
"So what now?" He asked, turning to Aliya again. "You gotta have, I dunno, something in mind, right?"
Neither of them were threats. One of them was hurt. Now was her moment. Stride in, Daria, big and bold. Tell'em your plan. Tell'em how you're gonna put the screws to the people responsible for all of this. Just walk out there, fearless and bold and unafraid, where anyone can shoot you down.
Daria didn't move.
How certain she had felt, scant days before. How fast that certainty receded, beneath the weigh of hunger, and dirt, and fear.
She wandered, ate a little (hunger pangs in her stomach), drank a little (and tried not to think of the performance a girl with the runs gave any watching cameras). She started plucking at her appearance in mirrors and reflections, trying to curtail a little of the slow wasting of days spent in madness and desperate survival. She ached, down to her heart.
And she hid, and couldn't help herself.
She wanted to be big, bad, and fearless. She wanted to do what she'd sworn to do, to walk unafraid of death and spread her message. Stop killing. Stop fighting. Let the bombs blow, if their captors had the fucking balls. Lay the burden squarely at their feet, and make them face it.
But everytime she heard people in the distance, the gun rang in her ear again, and she started to shake.
She went back to the beach, to try to find her courage. She went back to the tree and its shoes. But each time she tried to steel herself, the fear came back, thick enough to choke her.
Her wanderings finally took her to the lookout, to try and see the whole island, to try and make sense of it, to try and find her courage again. To see the 1s, to break the binary, to be bigger, to be better. She stayed there until night fell, and slept beneath a bench.
And awoke to the sound of crunching footsteps in the distance.
She moved so fast she hated herself, upright with her bag across her shoulder, dashing in a darting zigzag towards a thicker clump of trees, not even stopping to look over her shoulder to see if her unseen assailants had her in their sights. She skidded to a stop in the underbrush, flung herself down and clamped hands over her mouth as though she was trying to smother herself, waiting for the intruders to reveal themselves.
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting some more. God, they were slow. They advanced unsteadily towards the benches.
"We can rest here I guess," said one figure, collapsing into the bench Daria had just fled. "At least we'll have a nice view."
"Yeah," sighed the other, after sinking down. "That's the good shit."
Daria vaguely recognized both voices. Aliya and Tony, she thought. She didn't know either of them particularly well, and there was pain in Tony's voice. He was hurt (he said as much, something about trouble healing).
"So what now?" He asked, turning to Aliya again. "You gotta have, I dunno, something in mind, right?"
Neither of them were threats. One of them was hurt. Now was her moment. Stride in, Daria, big and bold. Tell'em your plan. Tell'em how you're gonna put the screws to the people responsible for all of this. Just walk out there, fearless and bold and unafraid, where anyone can shoot you down.
Daria didn't move.
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
The response was to be expected. Obviously, she had known he wasn’t doing well. But she needed an update on how he felt in that moment or how he was doing overall.
“Something like that.” She said in response to his first question. Unlike Tony she had no illusions about his wound healing. There was a good chance it was already infected. Just another thing to reduce the time he had left that she couldn’t prevent. That familiar feeling of powerlessness she had been left with for days. A constant companion along with Tony.
Then Tony asked the big question. The one she had been expecting. He asked if she had a plan. He asked in more words than that. But that was the heart of what he was saying. And the truth was that she didn’t have anything concrete. She didn’t know how she could, not with Tony how he was, any plan she came up with had to work around his condition. She felt guilty thinking it but unfortunately it was true.
She looked up at the sun, watching it hover impassively in the air. After a moment of thought she retrieved her compass from her bag. With a weary sigh she stood up and grabbed a nearby stick off the ground.
“I dunno,” She said as she consulted the compass and began scratching lines into the earth. “I want to help people, but I don’t know how I can.”
“Something like that.” She said in response to his first question. Unlike Tony she had no illusions about his wound healing. There was a good chance it was already infected. Just another thing to reduce the time he had left that she couldn’t prevent. That familiar feeling of powerlessness she had been left with for days. A constant companion along with Tony.
Then Tony asked the big question. The one she had been expecting. He asked if she had a plan. He asked in more words than that. But that was the heart of what he was saying. And the truth was that she didn’t have anything concrete. She didn’t know how she could, not with Tony how he was, any plan she came up with had to work around his condition. She felt guilty thinking it but unfortunately it was true.
She looked up at the sun, watching it hover impassively in the air. After a moment of thought she retrieved her compass from her bag. With a weary sigh she stood up and grabbed a nearby stick off the ground.
“I dunno,” She said as she consulted the compass and began scratching lines into the earth. “I want to help people, but I don’t know how I can.”
Tony would have scoffed, but he wasn't sure if that would have made him cough up a lung. He didn't even know if that was possible, but he head heard the expression enough that he wasn't willing to risk it.
"Help people? Shit, I don't think you need much planning for that." He said breezily, tilting his head to look back at her. "I mean, you're smarter than me, and better at thinking shit through. And as of a couple of days ago, you're stronger and faster than me too." He held up a finger. "Patient, too. You'd have to be that for sure to drag my ass around for the past few days."
He laughed. He didn't even know if he was being honest or funny, but he laughed anyway.
"So we're gonna help people. That's step one, I guess."
"Help people? Shit, I don't think you need much planning for that." He said breezily, tilting his head to look back at her. "I mean, you're smarter than me, and better at thinking shit through. And as of a couple of days ago, you're stronger and faster than me too." He held up a finger. "Patient, too. You'd have to be that for sure to drag my ass around for the past few days."
He laughed. He didn't even know if he was being honest or funny, but he laughed anyway.
"So we're gonna help people. That's step one, I guess."
The terror is different now, seductive and insidious. It isn't paralyzing her so much as it's soothing her, quieting her urge to act, like a warm blanket on a cold day. You could wake up, but you could sleep instead. Just sleep Daria. Just rest. Aren't you tired of trying?
“Something like that.”
Another voice, echoing her own thoughts. Tired. Yeah, she was tired. Quinn was still killing. Caroline was dead. More deaths before this was all over, unless she missed her mark. And Daria wanted to add more to the pile. Daria wanted to add them all to the pile. Better to stay here, hidden in the underbrush, scratched and hungry and caked in dirt, small and afraid.
“I want to help people, but I don’t know how I can.”
Preaching to the choir there. Daria had one terrible, horrible, awful plan, but that plan had given her courage, that plan had given her guts, and now she found that that plan was paralyzing her, lead in her veins so heavy that she could not bring herself to move. It was the thunder of the gun, playing over and over in her head. How much would that gun have to move, before its bullets found her? Shredded flesh and bone and brain so the meat that had once been Daria Bathia lay smashed and splayed on this desolate island, with even her mad dreams no more than dead echoes for their captors to laugh at?
She had resolved herself to dying. But dying pointlessly...being a zero, and not a one...that still rankled.
"Help people? Shit, I don't think you need much planning for that."
Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong, how could anyone not see that? You needed a plan. If you didn't have a plan, what did you have? Improvisation?
Guesswork?
She tensed in the underbrush. Why had she left Christina if not to risk things boldly? Was she risking anything now? Hiding in a bush while two other souls, lost just like her, wondered what they were supposed to do?
"So we're gonna help people. That's step one, I guess."
Step one. Take a step. Jump into the cold water. Make the leap of faith. Sing at the top of your god damn lungs. Stop hiding in a fucking bush and do something. Are you a one, or a zero?
"Um!" she managed, in a quavering voice, and swallowed against her fear. "Hey! Sorry, don't mean to...bother you."
Jesus Christ she sounded lame.
“Something like that.”
Another voice, echoing her own thoughts. Tired. Yeah, she was tired. Quinn was still killing. Caroline was dead. More deaths before this was all over, unless she missed her mark. And Daria wanted to add more to the pile. Daria wanted to add them all to the pile. Better to stay here, hidden in the underbrush, scratched and hungry and caked in dirt, small and afraid.
“I want to help people, but I don’t know how I can.”
Preaching to the choir there. Daria had one terrible, horrible, awful plan, but that plan had given her courage, that plan had given her guts, and now she found that that plan was paralyzing her, lead in her veins so heavy that she could not bring herself to move. It was the thunder of the gun, playing over and over in her head. How much would that gun have to move, before its bullets found her? Shredded flesh and bone and brain so the meat that had once been Daria Bathia lay smashed and splayed on this desolate island, with even her mad dreams no more than dead echoes for their captors to laugh at?
She had resolved herself to dying. But dying pointlessly...being a zero, and not a one...that still rankled.
"Help people? Shit, I don't think you need much planning for that."
Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong, how could anyone not see that? You needed a plan. If you didn't have a plan, what did you have? Improvisation?
Guesswork?
She tensed in the underbrush. Why had she left Christina if not to risk things boldly? Was she risking anything now? Hiding in a bush while two other souls, lost just like her, wondered what they were supposed to do?
"So we're gonna help people. That's step one, I guess."
Step one. Take a step. Jump into the cold water. Make the leap of faith. Sing at the top of your god damn lungs. Stop hiding in a fucking bush and do something. Are you a one, or a zero?
"Um!" she managed, in a quavering voice, and swallowed against her fear. "Hey! Sorry, don't mean to...bother you."
Jesus Christ she sounded lame.
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Tony made it sound so simple. At the same time though maybe his condition was offering him a bit more clarity when it came to their situation. It was that or less, but he was still with it. As he spoke Aliya continued to consult the compass at scratch lines into the earth in a circle, twelve in all. Once she had finished she stabbed the stick into the middle of the circle and watched its shadow before consulting the compass again. She had been taught how to do this once by her brother. She'd been going camping for some reason or other so he had shown her how to find Mecca without any technology in case she needed it. Turned out she'd been fine, but the skill had lodged itself into her brain. It probably helped that she had taught Maliheh and Meshia, passing the knowledge down.
“Yeah I guess so.” She said in response to Tony, as she looked up at the sun, eyes shielded by her free hand.
She was going to say more but was interrupted by an unexpected voice from the treeline. Aliya spun round, immediately alert to any potential danger. She had no weapon available but took some comfort in the fact that if it had been someone who wanted to kill them, they'd have already shot her. She kicked herself for not noticing though, the new arrival could have been watching them for any length of time.
Her body straightened up and she relaxed a little as she registered the uncertainty in the voice. All in all it could have been worse, she supposed. She took a look at her makeshift sundial before answering.
“No, s’all good.” She said, eyes scanning the trees. “We’ve got time.”
“Yeah I guess so.” She said in response to Tony, as she looked up at the sun, eyes shielded by her free hand.
She was going to say more but was interrupted by an unexpected voice from the treeline. Aliya spun round, immediately alert to any potential danger. She had no weapon available but took some comfort in the fact that if it had been someone who wanted to kill them, they'd have already shot her. She kicked herself for not noticing though, the new arrival could have been watching them for any length of time.
Her body straightened up and she relaxed a little as she registered the uncertainty in the voice. All in all it could have been worse, she supposed. She took a look at her makeshift sundial before answering.
“No, s’all good.” She said, eyes scanning the trees. “We’ve got time.”
Tony leaned over to get a better look at what Aliya was drawing. It looked like... maybe some kind of map? Or a chart? Whatever it was, Tony couldn't read it or figure out what it meant. He assumed that Aliya had a much better idea of what she was doing than he did, so he didn't make any comments on anything that he didn't know anything about.
The new voice coming up behind them made him raise an eyebrow, and he turned around to the best of his ability. He couldn't turn all the way around, but he could do enough to get sight of the new girl. She didn't seem too dangerous or intimidating. Pretty far in the opposite direction, actually. Tony thought that she might just about pass out from panic from the way she was acting. He didn't want to scare her too much, although he doubted that he actually could in the first place, so he tried to act casually, resting his arm on the back of the bench and waving.
"Yo. How you doing?"
Admittedly, that was probably a little too casual, but in his defense, he was under a lot of stress. Also, that was probably better than coming off too intense, considering the girl's obvious nerves, so he stood by that approach.
The new voice coming up behind them made him raise an eyebrow, and he turned around to the best of his ability. He couldn't turn all the way around, but he could do enough to get sight of the new girl. She didn't seem too dangerous or intimidating. Pretty far in the opposite direction, actually. Tony thought that she might just about pass out from panic from the way she was acting. He didn't want to scare her too much, although he doubted that he actually could in the first place, so he tried to act casually, resting his arm on the back of the bench and waving.
"Yo. How you doing?"
Admittedly, that was probably a little too casual, but in his defense, he was under a lot of stress. Also, that was probably better than coming off too intense, considering the girl's obvious nerves, so he stood by that approach.
"Not...you know, great."
She shifted self-consciously, trying to make as much noise as possible, trying to sell the act of the scared girl who didn't want to get shot
(act what act are you lying to yourself really Daria really)
She emerged from cover, scratched and scruffy-looking. She could feel her face doing whatever it wanted, and hated it for a moment. She preferred to be in control of her own expressions. She preferred...
"I...heard you guys coming, so I..." She waved vaguely to the brush behind her. "Almost been shot a couple times, so..." She glanced sheepishly at Tony. "Doesn't, uh...doesn't look like I have to warn you, though."
Gods, listen to yourself, Daria! Where is the girl who riddled with Quinn's nightmare sphinx? Where is the girl who faced Caroline's madness without fear? Who the fuck are you supposed to be, Daria? Why are you running so scared?
"Heard you talking, too," Daria said. "About...helping. I've, uh...I've got a really stupid idea about that." She tried and failed to smile.
She shifted self-consciously, trying to make as much noise as possible, trying to sell the act of the scared girl who didn't want to get shot
(act what act are you lying to yourself really Daria really)
She emerged from cover, scratched and scruffy-looking. She could feel her face doing whatever it wanted, and hated it for a moment. She preferred to be in control of her own expressions. She preferred...
"I...heard you guys coming, so I..." She waved vaguely to the brush behind her. "Almost been shot a couple times, so..." She glanced sheepishly at Tony. "Doesn't, uh...doesn't look like I have to warn you, though."
Gods, listen to yourself, Daria! Where is the girl who riddled with Quinn's nightmare sphinx? Where is the girl who faced Caroline's madness without fear? Who the fuck are you supposed to be, Daria? Why are you running so scared?
"Heard you talking, too," Daria said. "About...helping. I've, uh...I've got a really stupid idea about that." She tried and failed to smile.
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
It was a girl. It took Aliya a moment to put a name with the face but she got there. Daria was the girls' name. She did dance or YouTube and some other stuff maybe, Aliya couldn't say for sure. It was something like that though. Regardless of what she had done back at George Hunter she was spending her time surviving like everyone else. Her name hadn't come up in any of the announcements as far as Aliya remembered so that was a good sign. It didn't mean she hadn't been trying or anything, but it was a point in her favor.
Tony led with possibly the worst question to ask someone after six days on a death island. But it was what it was she supposed. As Daria approached them she gave a short explanation of how her time had been going. Much like Tony and herself it hadn't gone great. That came with the territory. It was a typical meeting or as close to typical as they could get. But then Daria mentioned listening in on their conversation. Aliya felt a pang of annoyance at that. It was a stupid thing to get annoyed about, she knew that. Someone listening in to a private conversation shouldn't have been a concern realistically. There were cameras on them the entire time after all. The self-doubt that she had conveyed to Tony was already going to be broadcast around the world for anyone and everyone to see. It didn't make sense to get defensive about someone from her class hearing them but it still stung.
She bottled that down though. That was her ego and her emotions talking. It didn't matter if Daria had heard them. She was offering something that could help with their goal, and Aliya wasn't going to turn that away.
"Go for it." She said with a small nod towards Daria. "Not like I have anything better."
Tony led with possibly the worst question to ask someone after six days on a death island. But it was what it was she supposed. As Daria approached them she gave a short explanation of how her time had been going. Much like Tony and herself it hadn't gone great. That came with the territory. It was a typical meeting or as close to typical as they could get. But then Daria mentioned listening in on their conversation. Aliya felt a pang of annoyance at that. It was a stupid thing to get annoyed about, she knew that. Someone listening in to a private conversation shouldn't have been a concern realistically. There were cameras on them the entire time after all. The self-doubt that she had conveyed to Tony was already going to be broadcast around the world for anyone and everyone to see. It didn't make sense to get defensive about someone from her class hearing them but it still stung.
She bottled that down though. That was her ego and her emotions talking. It didn't matter if Daria had heard them. She was offering something that could help with their goal, and Aliya wasn't going to turn that away.
"Go for it." She said with a small nod towards Daria. "Not like I have anything better."
Tony wasn't what he would call a social expert, but it was really obvious that Daria was super uncomfortable as she approached them. And you know what? He totally understood. Hell, if he hadn't lucked out and found Aliya so early, he figured he would be in the same boat, wandering around not knowing who the fuck he could get close to without catching a knife to the back. She mentioned his wound... not like she would notice anything else about him first, but whatever. He could roll with it.
"Nah, I didn't get shot. It was a spear or something. Crazy shit, right?"
Dark humor? Definitely. Too soon? He was the one with the hole in his chest, so he got to decide how soon was too soon. Didn't seem to pick up a huge reaction though, so he was going to drop it, pretend he didn't say it, and move on.
"But for real, what do you got?"
"Nah, I didn't get shot. It was a spear or something. Crazy shit, right?"
Dark humor? Definitely. Too soon? He was the one with the hole in his chest, so he got to decide how soon was too soon. Didn't seem to pick up a huge reaction though, so he was going to drop it, pretend he didn't say it, and move on.
"But for real, what do you got?"
"Nah," Tony said. "I didn't get shot. It was a spear or something. Crazy shit, right?"
"A spear?" Daria repeated. "That's some Lord of the Rings shit. I'm...sorry?" She laughed--a short, sharp, bemused sound. "Sorry you got stabbed, ha! That's...how the fuck is this real? How are we in this..."
Daria fell silent for a moment. Her hand rose up to her neck, and her fingers traced the length of her collar--the gun pointed at her head. The gun pointed at all of their heads.
They asked for her pitch. She felt a surge of gratitude towards them. She tried to smile. She might have managed one."
"It's about...these," she said, her fingers hooking on the collar without quite pulling on it. "These, they're...gonna kill us. All of us." She unhooked her fingers, but did not move them from her collar: instead, her fingers started to beat a slow, steady, delicate rhythm on its exterior. It was just like diving into the ocean after Quinn. It felt dangerous. It felt deadly. It felt exposed. It felt alive.
Beat by beat, a little thrill ran up her spine. Beat by beat, her fear changed into something else.
"How many of us were there?" she asked, as the change took hold, and changed her words . "200? How many now? And people are shooting at me, shooting at our friends, stabbing you-" She waved vaguely at Tony. "For what? For the chance one of us gets to live? And only if we kill each other?" She shook her head. Her fingers stopped their drumming, and hooked around the collar again. "Fuck that."
Still afraid, but it was the high-wire fear, performance fear, make it happen show must go on can't stop won't stop fear, because she was alive and moving again, there was a performance again, guesswork again, and a reminder. The gun pointed at her head, the death she'd already accepted, and thoughts of Carrie and the thunder of guns were just seasoning and texture and if she was gonna die she was gonna die doing something worth it.
"We're all gonna die," Daria said. "That's what these are." Another tap to the collar. "And they're making us play a game, making us tear each other apart, for a chance at living, and I'm not playing that game." She lowered her hand, and faced them squarely, and the girl facing Tony and Aliya still looked scared, a little shaky, but her face was set. "I wanna stop our friends from killing each other. I wanna call their fucking bluff."
"A spear?" Daria repeated. "That's some Lord of the Rings shit. I'm...sorry?" She laughed--a short, sharp, bemused sound. "Sorry you got stabbed, ha! That's...how the fuck is this real? How are we in this..."
Daria fell silent for a moment. Her hand rose up to her neck, and her fingers traced the length of her collar--the gun pointed at her head. The gun pointed at all of their heads.
They asked for her pitch. She felt a surge of gratitude towards them. She tried to smile. She might have managed one."
"It's about...these," she said, her fingers hooking on the collar without quite pulling on it. "These, they're...gonna kill us. All of us." She unhooked her fingers, but did not move them from her collar: instead, her fingers started to beat a slow, steady, delicate rhythm on its exterior. It was just like diving into the ocean after Quinn. It felt dangerous. It felt deadly. It felt exposed. It felt alive.
Beat by beat, a little thrill ran up her spine. Beat by beat, her fear changed into something else.
"How many of us were there?" she asked, as the change took hold, and changed her words . "200? How many now? And people are shooting at me, shooting at our friends, stabbing you-" She waved vaguely at Tony. "For what? For the chance one of us gets to live? And only if we kill each other?" She shook her head. Her fingers stopped their drumming, and hooked around the collar again. "Fuck that."
Still afraid, but it was the high-wire fear, performance fear, make it happen show must go on can't stop won't stop fear, because she was alive and moving again, there was a performance again, guesswork again, and a reminder. The gun pointed at her head, the death she'd already accepted, and thoughts of Carrie and the thunder of guns were just seasoning and texture and if she was gonna die she was gonna die doing something worth it.
"We're all gonna die," Daria said. "That's what these are." Another tap to the collar. "And they're making us play a game, making us tear each other apart, for a chance at living, and I'm not playing that game." She lowered her hand, and faced them squarely, and the girl facing Tony and Aliya still looked scared, a little shaky, but her face was set. "I wanna stop our friends from killing each other. I wanna call their fucking bluff."
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
After Tony broke the tension with a joke at his own expense Daria went into her pitch. As it turned out calling it a plan may have been too generous because Daria also wasn't working off much. She reminded Aliya of the collar around her neck, of what it meant. The threat they carried with them at all times. No matter what they did they would always be at the mercy of the terrorists. Always just a button press away from being added to the body count. They had no say in the matter. If that's what was decided they couldn't stop it.
Her plan, as much as you could say she had one, was not to take part. It was an admirable idea, Aliya couldn't deny that. In the time she had been traveling with Tony she'd thought about many different plans and convincing everyone to stop playing the game had been one of them. Morally it was probably the best thing they could do, a staunch refusal to take part no matter what. Daria said it was a bluff on the terrorists part, that they wouldn't actually blow the collars if everyone refused. There was a chance she could have been right, but at the point they were at it didn't matter. People had made up their minds and some of them were too far gone to stop. How could they? Some of their classmates were on the wrong side of five kills and making their way towards double-digits. Aliya doubted that they would stop of their own accord. She also doubted that they would stop if they were asked nicely. So, in the end, it put them back where they started. Violence was going to be needed at some point. It didn't matter if it was lethal or non-lethal, it would still be necessary. That wasn't even going into the fact that they'd need to convince people not to lose their nerve.
Aliya looked towards Tony before turning her gaze back to Daria, a resigned sigh escaping from between her lips.
"Sorry but I don't see how it'll work, how would you stop them?"
Her plan, as much as you could say she had one, was not to take part. It was an admirable idea, Aliya couldn't deny that. In the time she had been traveling with Tony she'd thought about many different plans and convincing everyone to stop playing the game had been one of them. Morally it was probably the best thing they could do, a staunch refusal to take part no matter what. Daria said it was a bluff on the terrorists part, that they wouldn't actually blow the collars if everyone refused. There was a chance she could have been right, but at the point they were at it didn't matter. People had made up their minds and some of them were too far gone to stop. How could they? Some of their classmates were on the wrong side of five kills and making their way towards double-digits. Aliya doubted that they would stop of their own accord. She also doubted that they would stop if they were asked nicely. So, in the end, it put them back where they started. Violence was going to be needed at some point. It didn't matter if it was lethal or non-lethal, it would still be necessary. That wasn't even going into the fact that they'd need to convince people not to lose their nerve.
Aliya looked towards Tony before turning her gaze back to Daria, a resigned sigh escaping from between her lips.
"Sorry but I don't see how it'll work, how would you stop them?"