My Body Is Ready

[Sh4dE]

[[Benedict Murray continued from The Fart Exhibition]]

Benny had lit his third-uh-seventh cigarette. It was between his teeth, smoking. His head hurt, but that was fine. Smoking was helping to ease it and he got used to the pain. It's not like he was going to drop dead all of the sudden. Even though Bert and Michael had not been taking him serious and thought his plan to escape the game was the by product of a concussion. Only Bert came with him and she was not believing him being fine, even though he told everyone back at the Art Exhibition. So what? He was bleeding, yeah? That's what the bandage was for. There was more important stuff to deal with. Meanwhile Bert asked him dumb stuff. Held up her fingers to make sure he could see straight, inquired about if his head still hurt and how bad. He told her that it did not hurt at all anymore simply to change the topic.

They had talked about the escape plan, or rather, the waiting out plan. The plan which would make the Horned Owls stand out from all other schools that were chosen for this terrorist attack. The Owls would stick together. That would be the strategy that would make them stand out from the rest. Bert gritted her teeth and went along with the Plan, though Benny was not sure if she stood behind it as much as him.

While walking through the Paddies he saw a person from the distance that made his pulse go up by a lot.

"Bert...uh, can you wait here, please?"

He had not talked with her since Prom.

[Cicada]

His was one face among many she'd prefer to never have to see again.

((Camila Cañizares continued from Domire))

It could have been twenty, thirty minutes prior that she'd quietly hoped they'd meet. The moon hadn't budged much in the sky- not since she'd left Dante to fallow. Benny had been one of those few names- a small list sparsely populated by big font names she could trust. He'd earned her trust in one of her most vulnerable, weak moments- she'd been ready to miss him, when they'd all move on and put school halls and classrooms in their distant past.

That had been back then.

The night was humid enough that the dampness staining Camila's shirt in streaky patches had yet to dry. Her hair started to clump, waves turning to wild briar curls. Regina, still looped around her belt, watched in all directions possible.

Camila had no energy to be self-conscious, never had. Her body language, all the same, was defensive as Benny approached. She instinctively rolled herself up, sitting down as she was her broken arm was thus sheltered.

There was a wrapped corpse a few steps up the terrace, behind Camila and closer the way she'd came. Presently out of sight. She'd already pointedly ignored it on her way down- she would continue to do so. She could spare Benny that much existential nightmare- it seemed he'd already encountered his own share of troubles.

"Do you need help?"

Bloody bandages- a head wound. Camila repressed the shudder, the sympathy, with only some success as the chill settled thick in her stomach. She could help, but she could not stay.

[Sh4dE]

Camila looked like a mess. She looked sadder the closer he got to her. Benny tried to smile at her, hoping for it to get caught on Cam's face as well, but Benny's smile did not seem genuine anymore. This was awkward.

"I'm fine. What about you, Cam?"

Benny used his fingers to comb his hair. Made him feel cooler.

[Cicada]

She didn't question him, but she silently assumed he had a mask in the form of a brave face. Maybe even for her own sake- heaven forbid. She watched him preen, slow to react, then not reacting much at all. A slightly vacant stare.

"I'm also fine," she lied.

A moment of silence.

"Do you want to sit? What about her?"

If they wanted to stay, then she wanted to go.

"Who did that to you? Benny?"

[Sh4dE]

Benny took a deep drag from the cigarette. His stomach was revolting. Why was that? Blood loss, probably. He should take a sip from a bottle, his lips were dry.

Maybe it was not because of the headache, maybe it was because of her. Benny thought about Prom when he felt lonely and sad. He was not often lonely and sad, but days like that also stumbled into Benny's life occasionally. Now he felt sad and lonely. He was scared of Cam, about her reaction.

"Justin. But, don't worry, it was an accident. He p-panicked a bit after waking up, but I'm fine and he's fine as well."

He looked back at Bert, then back at Cam, feeling to dizzy and nervous to maintain eye contact. He sat down on the dirtied ground.

"I want to-to talk with you privately. To get closure."

After that, he could talk with her about the Plan.

"But, but first, what happened to you?"

[Cicada]

It sounded naive, and Camila wasn't going to disguise that.

"Accident. Or him failing to off you, claiming otherwise." She didn't expect him to listen, but it'd possibly make a difference. Camila had already been prey- Benny didn't need to be too.

He was bringing it up, funnily enough. It seemed like the least important topic ever.

"What's there to get closure for?" She shrugged. Tried to smile. There might have been a tic. This close, she breathed in the smoke of his cigarette without flinching. It reminded her of a more innocent time.

"Blaise- if you know them- is killing people now. I had to see the aftermath." She watched for his reaction as she said that, all while her own face remained stubbornly still, statue like.

[Sh4dE]

"You know Justin- he would never do such a thing. He's, you know, Justin. He's a friendly pal."

Benny rubbed his head, uncomfortable to talk about the closure. Maybe he should shrug it off as well. It is not really like he loved her or anything. They were friends, they had a silly teenage plan for Prom, it did not work out. Whatever. It was not like he had feelings for Cam, even though he had.

"I'm sorry," he said as a response to Blaise killing people. That sounded terrible. That was a problem for his plan. The Plan. Benny tried to regain confidence to talk with her about his idea.

"We need to stop them. Not only Ble-blaise, uhm, but also everyone else tryna kill. We can save time for ourselves by reducing the kills. Missing busses are not something usual in the year of 2018 and, you know, we get rescued. We just need to-"

Benny breathed heavily. His mind was not into the plan. It was into Cam.

"just need to work this out together. As a class."

His voice slowed down. His voice was not into the plan anymore.

"You know what? Forget it...Prom. So, uhm, was it because of me?"

Did he do anything bad that night? What did he do wrong?

[Cicada]

"I don't know him." Camila didn't intend to sound short- the burst of irritation had come without warning. Without a source, except the frustration, the general drag of helplessness casually slung around her neck like an anchor.

His plan... merit, perhaps. Camila could understand it purely with that front most part of her head. It was utilitarian. She could tell herself that, and not believe it, when some deeper aspect of herself lurked, continued to consider that the mere act of inflicting death was sin and blasphemy. No matter the logic behind it- it was something that fundamentally could not be thought about in logical terms.

Least, she had no right to do such.

"You didn't sound very convinced."

She shrugged, then looked him straight in the eye. Straight through- she could have blown his brains out just with her gaze alone.

"No. I told you that already, Benny. It's not your fault I can't want to have sex like a normal girl. And if you somehow feel lesser because of that- still? You're an idiot."

Her idiot, she wanted to finish. But that was just emphasizing the part she wanted to forget. She was only forcing herself to keep her tone even keel.

[Sh4dE]

It was not on him, he had no reason to be self-conscious about himself. That aside, it did not make sense why he cared at all, he usually did not care what people think of him. It's not like he was in love with Cam. Okay, maybe a bit. But that was probably the result of the adrenaline. That made people fall in love, it's only a chemical reaction. Don't be bothered, Benny, everything is okay.

"Alright, alright. Gotcha."

There. Closure, topic's done once for all.

Cam didn't know Justin apparently, which was fair because the student body was pretty large and she sounded pretty exhausted, so Benny thought of a way to bemuse her, make her happy again make all of them happy again. Joke, joke, joke, he couldn't think of one, he tried his hardest to think but the pain

"So, about the plan. It really is."

He thought of a way to formulate it. People thought the plan was crazy. They might think he was. But he couldn't speak anymore.

Then, he dropped to the ground.

B38 - Benedict Murray - Deceased

[MethodicalSlacker]

.

Oh he dead.

He fuckin' dead.

.

Aneurysm?

[Liberty "Bert" Wren continued from More like FART EXHIBITION.]

At least, that's what it looked like from where Bert was standing, because after she caught up with him in the woods and talked and made double triple sure that he was fine and that his concussion could be dealt with just by being careful and not getting hit again and checking his eyes and whatever and sure she wasn't no medical student but she had taken concussion courses for ice skating before and she thought she knew a thing or two about the whole deal, making Benedict's sudden collapse and expiry all the more startling. It probably shouldn't have surprised her, given that she didn't actually know first aid, that she was wrong, but it was still enough for her to blankly stare ahead, mouth slightly agape, in surprise.

Bert had just acquiesced earlier to his 'owl' rhetoric, his escape plan, all of it for the sake of making sure that he was fine, that everything was okay, if it'd let her stick around longer, and he did seem like he was getting better over time once they got a bandage on the head wound and such. When he had gone to speak to Camila, Bert had stayed behind just as asked—she remembered hearing that they went to prom together—heard because she wasn't there to have seen it—and watched the two talk from a distance, barely picking up the edges and corners of words. More prom drama, unresolved, entitled 'nice guy' wanting to have his way, his closure, faint memory of an Amy Schumer skit someone on her team had shown her rising to the surface, and he got to talking about the rationing people's lives, and then up and fucking volunteered for it.

"Fuck," Bert said, "shit, fuck, fucking shit."

Still bewildered, she ran over to where the two were talking just a few moments before, the faint faded outline in the air of his silhouette still lingering in the breeze, swearing under her breath all the while, hands pressed to her temples in distress, and knelt down over the body in the wet grass for about two seconds before she realized that for all she was broken up about this loose acquaintance dying she wasn't quite sad enough to get her knees all soaked.

But, still.

"What the fuck happened?"

Confused and distraught, Bert looked up at Camila.

"I—he wasn't okay, but he didn't look like he was gonna die, right?!" she asked. Something stray and sniveling crossed her mind, and she realized that she wanted to cry.

"Please tell me this isn't my fault."

[Cicada]

"Does it matter, whose fault it is."

To sum up, Camila had observed Benny fall as something of a third person observer. Her own stunned silence still echoed in the distance- somewhere far away, Camila was half cradling the freshly dead body of her friend. Camila could see herself continuing through the repetitions. She confirmed to herself, with a sort of humdrum and routine desperation, that each spot where his pulse could have been was hallow and empty. Still eerily warm, and cooler every time she swiped a bit of the heat that had once been his life force away.

Once more, with feeling. Her two good fingers to his neck, to his wrist, over his heart. Nothing. His lungs, inert. His eyes, already slowly drying back into the shelter of his deep skull. They were without purpose, merely spots of color on his flesh-covered skeleton.

He had slumped partially over her, his legs flopping into the water, the bulky mass that had once served a purpose as his shoulder now pinning her bad arm to her thigh in a way that could have made her cry grossly. If she had any tears left to cry.

An odd sensation, feeling so empty. Camila, anyways, assumed she was by default forgiven for having absolutely no time for another girl's self-righteous selfishness.

"It's already too late. Unless you happen to be Jesus."

Camila wanted all the damn memories flooding her mind to get out already- she already knew she'd loved Benny, that he'd been one of her best and only friends. She didn't need the reminder that he'd deserved better- she breathed it. It was all that kept her going, all of a sudden.

She still sort of expected him to get up and keep defying her cynical expectations. He'd been good at that, once upon a time.

[BlizzardeyeWonder]

There were so many stars. It was overwhelming.

It still wasn't enough light to read the fucking map.

[Camilla Bell continued from Signal to Noise]

So instead, she had stumbled across a body wrapped in a curtain in these rice paddies to discover it was Abel, the guy who bought a spider plant for his mom's birthday. She quickly covered his mud-and-blood-covered face as best as she could- but hesitated at one point. She almost wanted to ask him if his mom liked the gift, if the spiderettes made it more than a month. Maybe his mom still had it now. No, that was a selfish train of thought. She fully covered his face up again.

She kept wading through the rice paddies. What else was she supposed to do, lie down and sleep there? It wasn't that the last shred of self respect she had was preventing her from doing so, but it just seemed like more trouble than it was worth.

In the distance, she saw silhouettes. Her tiredness kept her walking in their direction, some form of sleep-deprived inertia, but in slow motion. All that was running through her mind were Henry's words- plans, people, keep an eye out, something something.

Now she could make out their faces, as she slowly blinked, each second of shut-eye a relief. Her eyes were finally adjusting to the late-night darkness- helped by them widening in surprise, against her tired mind's will.

She certainly wasn't expecting to see the other Cam here. And she wasn't expecting to see her carrying some guy, and standing with that short redhead who got her high that one time.

"I... it's you?" was all she could say, to Camila's face. "And you?" she half-greeted as she turned to Bert. "Wha- is he-"

She looked down at the slumped over body. Did she even need to ask that question?

Three dead people in a day. The universe hated her, didn't it? She simply stood there, silently, her hands dropping to her sides. She wanted to fall to her knees, really. But why should she?

[MethodicalSlacker]

"Yes!" Bert cried, "Yes, it does matter, because if it's my fault, and everyone knows it's my fault tomorrow, then I'm fucked! I'm absolutely fucked! It shouldn't be my fault that he got hit by Sudden Benedict Death Syndrome and keeled over, but it might be god fucking damnit!"

Then, behind her, she heard the approach of someone else. Someone without the full story, someone who didn't know if what happened right here was Bert's fault or the world's fault or Justin's or Benedict's or Camila's or anybody. Bert turned and looked at her with tears in her eyes. The other Camilla, tall, drill-bonking-on-the-head very much not an option.

Camilla, who she kind of just left at the party. Camilla, still kinda hot.

Bert gulped and put on her best I-wasn't-just-crying-what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about face, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of the arm that was still clutching the power drill.

"Hi," she said, "long time no see."

[Cicada]

He didn't get up. Slowly his weight started to impress heavy finality onto her trapped arm.

She held him with her one good hand cradling his chest. He'd always been light- he'd impressed that onto her in a very physical sense, once. She freed her arm. A moments consideration. Let go. Never trust. He'd once been an extension of herself, and now he was just inert coal.

She was still reluctant when she let the rest of him roll off her and splash pathetically into the pool at her feet.

The other two were adequately distracting each other now. Camilla, bless her heart, was another person born of memories and lost happiness. One who'd best be served if Camila was as far away from them as possible. Else, God would probably gladly reward Camila's ignorance with another beloved turned to corpse at her feet.

Camila didn't have the energy to leave. Stepping over Benny's log of a body at her feet would have been too much an ask. Suddenly she felt hydrated again, despite having not downed a drop of water in hours. Plenty more to suddenly cry out. She dug into her eyes with her hand. Until she could feel the imprint of her nails on the soft bits of her eyeballs- she would not cry, not here, not in front of them.

She stayed silent.

[BlizzardeyeWonder]

Camilla heard Bert say something, but her words seemed to fade out of her mind. It was as if the air their voices traveled through was as muddy and opaque as the water in this swamp. Even the sounds of Camila's crying were silenced. Or was she doing that herself?

She really wished she had the mental fortitude that Camila had in this moment- meanwhile the other Camilla was standing there, looking at her clawing at her own eyes in slow motion, feeling a tear in her own eye. She quickly wiped it away, a motion that could easily be mistaken for rubbing her tired eyes. She hoped.

Once upon a time, Camilla considered herself mentally strong- and responsible, and mature. All of those were lies, weren't they? The island had exposed her for the liar she was. For a brief moment, she hoped that the others would find someone else- imagine if one of the gardening club found her like this. She never tried to micromanage them but she always set herself up as "the mature one" didn't she? That was its own sin, of pride. Now she hoped they'd find someone who really was strong. Not her.

...but the thought of never meeting her friends again tugged at her heart, made her insides fidget uncomfortably. At this point, it was just a selfish wish. At the beginning she may have deluded herself into thinking she wanted to find them and keep them safe. She did want them to be safe. But it was clear she wouldn't be the one who protect them.

Another tear formed in her eye. Nobody else was really crying, so she wiped that away too.

"I..."

She fell silent. What could she even say?

"I'm sorry..."

That was such a stupid thing to say. She wasn't even entirely saying it to them- "For your loss, I-"

That didn't fix it. She shook her head, and fell silent.

Only Camilla had to know who her apology was really for.