Restraining Order: Part One

[Nealosi†]

Blake staggered across the sidewalk of the residential district. He had started the game here, running around trying to salvage supplies to survive his long stay on the island, and now he was back. The storm had resided, but its effects were still evident.

Windows had been smashed, shingles torn off, wood siding battered and ripped. Mother Nature had been wrathful to the quaint abandoned houses. On top of all that a lone corpse now lay, pale and clean from the purifying rains, most of the blood had been undoubtedly drained from him and into the sewers, in the middle of the asphalt road.

He looked almost angelic, unscarred in death, drained of all life, with a convincing smile on his face. Blake didn't know the boy, but he was glad he was now free of this hell. Blake felt his hand instinctively rub over his collar. If he were to die today, he would die a tormented man, unfulfilled and unjustified. He hated himself for what he had done, but that was reason enough to live.

I have to get out of here.

~

I was becoming increasingly difficult to care. As the announcements prattled on with the latest deceased, An Linh Tuan sat slumped in the corner of a run-down house. A bottle of Captain Morgan's spiced rum lay at her feet, half empty now, as she picked away at the brownish wallpaper and shuffled through her pack for the island map. She waited through the list of the deceased and wrote down the new danger zones.

Having not eaten anything the previous day, the spiced rum was hitting her pretty hard. She giggled and muttered off obscenities as she re-called people from her class. Now dead, and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Edgar Judah," An Linh flicked a bit of wallpaper across the floor. "I remember him from home room. Shae? He was always a weird little fucker anyway. Andrew Swainson... he was a good kid..."

An Linh took another large swig straight from the bottle. It was unlike her to do something like this, even under a situation of extreme pressure, but she couldn't deal with it anymore. She was tired of putting on the strong face and secluding herself from all the troubles around her. She just wanted to get away from it for once. The rum was helping.

She'd salvaged it earlier, thinking it might come in handy to clean out wounds, or start a fire, or even barter with, as far a stretch as that might seem, but now she could only think of one use for it.

"I see a red door and I want it painted black..."

She pulled herself up and kicked at the floor, she stumbled over towards the kitchen and propped herself against the kitchen and put her brass knuckles on as she heard someone entering through the front door. She peered over at him as he wandered in looking concerned and oddly confident.

~

He heard the muttering coming from inside the house and wandered in carefully. The Bible was still duct taped across his chest as makeshift body armour and Gregory Moyer's baby doll still lay idly in his bag, his improvised weapons were getting increasingly obsolete as the competition heated up, but that was the last thing on his mind. He wanted a way out, and he was pretty sure this girl, whoever she was, wasn't going to stand in his way.

"I'm not looking for any trouble," he held up his hands and walked into the room slowly. "I'm just looking for a few supplies and then I'll be out of your way."

~

An Linh glared at the boy as he wandered into the room. She was a quick judge of character, and she could tell he wasn't lying, even in her slightly inebriated state. She didn't really care anyway, she'd had enough fighting for a while and honestly, she just wanted to get the fuck out of here and forget all of this.

She sighed and huffed at the young man.

"Fine, do whatever the fuck you want to," she slumped into the corner of the kitchen. "It's not like it matters anyway..."

She took another swig from the bottle.

Blake looked over sympathetically; he could tell the two of them were a lot alike. They both just wanted to get out of here and under any normal circumstances he could probably relate to the young girl. Getting drunk right now wasn't even a particularly bad idea as far as Blake was concerned; at least it would be a momentary reprieve from this hellhole.

Blake strode over and helped the young girl to her feet again. It was the least he could do. She pushed him away after getting up to her feet. She fell down again.

"Leave me alone," she muttered. "I don't need your help."

"Fine," he shrugged. "Whatever you want."

Blake rooted through the cupboards mindlessly as An Linh found her footing. He found a pair of pliers and tried working them under the collar to little effect. He huffed and threw them to the side. He tried working the collar away with a screwdriver, but nothing worked, he threw household tool after household tool to the side in frustration as An Linh watched and laughed in between sips of spiced rum.

"You aren't going to get it off you know," An Linh grinned as Blake removed his heavy jacket, sweating after trying for so long to remove the collar.

"I'll find a way."

"They've probably thought of everything already."

"Well, they might have missed something."

"Why don't you just chill out and have a drink?" An Linh nearly tripped over her own feet.

"Because I'm trying to get this damn collar off."

"You know, I used to be thinking about this just like you," there was a slight delay in her words, not a slur, but a drunken slowness to them. "I figured there was some way out, but after more and more people died I said 'hey, fuck it' and I've decided to live a little in these last few moments of my life."

"No, there's a way to get these off, and I'm going to find it."

Blake continued to root through the drawers; he sighed in frustration and fell to the floor. He had exhausted nearly every noticeable tool in the house. An Linh looked over at him, suddenly feeling sorry for discouraging him.

"Hey, I'm sorry," she sighed. "It's just... I don't know... fuck this game. I'm sick of playing and trying to get out of it..."

An awkward silence filled the room as Blake lay sprawled on the floor, recovering his energy with An Linh standing above him.

"I hope you find a way out... what was your name anyway?" An Linh dropped to the ground, sitting next to him.

He really didn't think revealing himself as a murderer was a good choice at this point.

"Hal, my name is Hal," he held out his hand.

"I'm An Linh... I hope you find a way out, Hal..."

There was another awkward pause as An Linh rose to her feet, stumbling only slightly, and helping the exhausted Blake to his.

"If I do find a way out, I'm coming back to let you know, okay?"

"Yeah... thanks..." her eyes fell to the ground.

Blake wandered out the front door of the house after another awkward pause. An Linh stared out the door; he was a lot like her, only he maintained different facade, a different defence against the world.

"Wait," An Linh stumbled out after him. "I'm coming with you."

((Continued in Restraining Order: Part Two. Coming soon!))