Mikki Swift was still trying to figure out the logistics of it all when she came across Abel's body.
When she woke up, she knew where she was, because everything was still rewinding in her head and playing over again. From Ms Garcia's head exploding, to the monster on the stage, to the movie from three years ago; even in spite of the gas still running through her body as she woke up against a tree and could see the ocean, it was still playing, as though it was everything she needed to remember in order to put forth a solid plan to FUCK THESE GUYS IN THEIR FACE.
By "these guys", obviously, she meant the goddamn terrorists who had plucked them all into the middle of an ocean somewhere and covered their necks with C4. She obviously wasn't going to kill any of her classmates because duh, but acting all goody-goody wasn't enough, she needed to back her words up with actions and save them all. Figure out a plan, a new plan, and get her classmates out of harm's way. And up until the end of that fucking presentation, she'd thought she'd had it covered - Mikki wasn't a morbid fuck but she'd thought about what she'd do if she was on SOTF, and the escape plan always involved lighting the biggest goddamn fire ever, in the same way that she held the biggest goddamn party ever - with a lot of planning and running around and exhausting herself but making it all worth it in the end because it would all come together. But then the ugly fuck had to be all "oh btw lol no fires or we kill you" and that went down the fucking drain, so now Mikki didn't have anything.
But she could find someone who had something.
That was the plan - find the smartest person she could think of, and get whoever they were to save them all. Mikki would still get the credit, of course, since she put it all together. It wasn't like anyone remembered anything about those parties she DJ'd at besides her, was it? It didn't matter; as long as it worked and as long as people got saved, it matter at all (well just as long as she got some credit, even if she died right after).
And as she sat by the tree going through her things, Mikki knew she had no reason to be scared. She'd never fired a gun before, of course, but the one in her bag gave her some sense of comfort, and when she got up with her plan she knew that if anyone tried to get the jump on her she'd have the ability to scare them off, although the idea of killing someone who'd been at one of her parties was revolting. She'd avoid it if she could, and she'd do anything in her power to make sure she didn't have to.
And eventually she began her trek, with the rice paddies highlighted on her map by the labels as the first destination. She knew from her years of urban exploration that, well, people liked big things with names on them whether they wanted to admit it or not, the urge to be a hipster overwhelmed by commonplace basic. She had a better chance of finding people in big locations, get to them before they started killing people or going crazy, and find out who had a fucking plan.
What Mikki forgot to take into account though was the fact that she'd have to ruin her sneakers. Rice paddies were wet, and shoes were very anti-wet, so much so in fact they became gloops of fabric stuck to her feet without a moment's notice. She'd let out some sort of sound stuck between a grunt and a shudder when she first stepped into the liquid and mud, and each squelch made the journey worse and worse. She'd been watching her feet and the path in front of her as she walked, careful not to trip, but it soon became apparent that she'd never see anyone if she had her face to the ground, so the walking became second nature. She checked occasionally, of course, but not enough, which became obvious when her foot got caught on something heavy and Mikki was suddenly sprawled in the wet and mud, her clothes soaked in dirty water and handfuls of wet dirt, her bag sitting tauntingly beside her. She'd need to check now whether everything inside was ruined and she'd beaten her chances to death on the paving stones before they even began, but Mikki was more concerned with getting her foot out from whatever it was caught in. She pulled, but it was caught at an awkward angle, so she twisted around to get a good look at what she was dealing with.
It turned out to be a body.
In the moments that followed Mikki was suddenly struck still, blinking rapidly as though the sight of one of her classmates laying in the mud was somehow a loose eyelash. Then, she began pulling at her foot rapidly, as though he would take her down with him. The foot was eventually released, completely soaked and ready for trench-foot, and Mikki scrambled through the mud towards the body and dug her hands underneath it in an attempt to turn it around. There was a chance they weren't as dead as the feeling in Mikki's foot right now, and she had to check. He remained uncooperative, as though the mud was his home, but with strained muscles and no air left in Mikki's lungs she freed him from the grasp of the paddies and flipped him around, only to come face to face with Abel Zelenovic, an expression of horror and pain forever etched onto his face.
Mikki's arms began shaking, and the long sound that erupted from her throat was the child of a scream and a cry, but raised by something within Mikki herself that didn't sound human, and there was no end in sight as she realized she'd failed before she'd even begun.
God Bless America [Island Remix ft. DJ TAIPAN]
open
So, this was fun. Yay, whoo. A nice way to end the trip. Her fav.
Sarcasm.
Bree had already looked through her things, and she had already decided something. She wasn’t “playing”. “Playing” was the most idiotic thing you could do, really. For one, good job becoming a murderer. For another, if the names are being announced, wouldn’t it be better to keep low, not draw attention to yourself in any way for as long as humanly possible?
She swatted a fly that had landed on her arm. At least, she hoped that was a fly. Seethe a little.
So, great. They were in SOTF. Someone was probably going to do something stupid. They always did. Bree didn’t want to be that someone. So her plan for right now was like, to find a place to hide and wait until all this shit blows over. Maybe she’d find some not-stupid people. That’d be ideal, but chances are there were going to be stupid people.
Bree had been attempting her way alongside a slightly drier area, but still bemoaning the mud that stuck to her shoe. She’d kind of peeking at her map for a moment, before hearing a wet sound followed by screaming. She lowered her map, and tucked it folded into her waistband. A quick trudge and a look, and--
Was that Mikki Swift in the middle of the rice paddy? What was she doing--
Bree froze when she noticed a shape near her feet.
“The fuck?”
The words came out of her mouth without thinking.
So much for staying low.
Sarcasm.
Bree had already looked through her things, and she had already decided something. She wasn’t “playing”. “Playing” was the most idiotic thing you could do, really. For one, good job becoming a murderer. For another, if the names are being announced, wouldn’t it be better to keep low, not draw attention to yourself in any way for as long as humanly possible?
She swatted a fly that had landed on her arm. At least, she hoped that was a fly. Seethe a little.
So, great. They were in SOTF. Someone was probably going to do something stupid. They always did. Bree didn’t want to be that someone. So her plan for right now was like, to find a place to hide and wait until all this shit blows over. Maybe she’d find some not-stupid people. That’d be ideal, but chances are there were going to be stupid people.
Bree had been attempting her way alongside a slightly drier area, but still bemoaning the mud that stuck to her shoe. She’d kind of peeking at her map for a moment, before hearing a wet sound followed by screaming. She lowered her map, and tucked it folded into her waistband. A quick trudge and a look, and--
Was that Mikki Swift in the middle of the rice paddy? What was she doing--
Bree froze when she noticed a shape near her feet.
“The fuck?”
The words came out of her mouth without thinking.
So much for staying low.
"No, no, no, please, no-"
Mikki's voice was beginning to crack, already on the verge of tears as she knelt in the mud and water at Abel's body, trying to wrap her head around it. She'd only just woken up and one of her friends was already dead, with nothing she could have done about it. His skin was cold to the touch, having been in the water for who even knew how long, and she couldn't bear to look at his face again, eyes gazing off into nowhere. She put her hand to his face, and pushed the eyelids closed, but the small act of respect she'd only ever seen on television shows didn't make her feel any better, nor did it magically bring one of her friends back to life. It couldn't have been any more than a month ago that she'd been yelling at him over Facebook about scaring the shit out of her with studying for a non-existent exam that had already happened but she was too stoned to remember it, and now here she was cold and trembling over his body, only minutes ago having been so confident she could save everyone on the island before the terrorists won.
But they'd already won and Mikki had lost, and it was entirely possible it all happened before she'd even woken up. Mikki shivered, doing her best to shelve the urge to cry yet nothing coming of the attempt. She didn't want to move, she didn't want to do anything - just sit with Abel and hope that this was somehow a prank, that everyone was going to jump out and it was all some super elaborate YouTube series she'd just fallen for, and when she got home to her house and her family and her lizards she could laugh about it in the comments while neckbeards called her a dumb whiny bitch and she shilled her channel and music in the same breath as she called them idiot virgins.
God, how the fuck could she even think of any of that now? It meant nothing, but how could it mean nothing? She'd worked her whole life to make herself who she was, to make music and friends, and it was all going away because some fucking terrorists picked her school out of a lottery bag or something. The only way out was to-
No, no fucking way, I am not.
Her own thoughts pulled her back. She couldn't go along with them, there was no choice in the matter. Whoever killed Abel, whoever ruined Mikki's life right then and there, they weren't going to get away with it whoever they were. But more importantly, Mikki wasn't going to let the people who put them in this position get away with it either. She had to, somehow, get them all out of there.
But Abel's body was still laying at her knees, and she couldn't find the strength to move. At least, until she realized she wasn't the only one in the field.
When she heard Bree's voice, she whipped around and pushed herself up so suddenly she threw herself off balance, falling backwards into the water and mud again, completely soaking her back to match with the front. She lay there, looking up at the foreign sky for the moment.
If it was another day, she would have laughed at the fool she made of herself. But all Mikki could do was let out a loud pained cry as she realized just how futile she was in the face of everything.
Mikki's voice was beginning to crack, already on the verge of tears as she knelt in the mud and water at Abel's body, trying to wrap her head around it. She'd only just woken up and one of her friends was already dead, with nothing she could have done about it. His skin was cold to the touch, having been in the water for who even knew how long, and she couldn't bear to look at his face again, eyes gazing off into nowhere. She put her hand to his face, and pushed the eyelids closed, but the small act of respect she'd only ever seen on television shows didn't make her feel any better, nor did it magically bring one of her friends back to life. It couldn't have been any more than a month ago that she'd been yelling at him over Facebook about scaring the shit out of her with studying for a non-existent exam that had already happened but she was too stoned to remember it, and now here she was cold and trembling over his body, only minutes ago having been so confident she could save everyone on the island before the terrorists won.
But they'd already won and Mikki had lost, and it was entirely possible it all happened before she'd even woken up. Mikki shivered, doing her best to shelve the urge to cry yet nothing coming of the attempt. She didn't want to move, she didn't want to do anything - just sit with Abel and hope that this was somehow a prank, that everyone was going to jump out and it was all some super elaborate YouTube series she'd just fallen for, and when she got home to her house and her family and her lizards she could laugh about it in the comments while neckbeards called her a dumb whiny bitch and she shilled her channel and music in the same breath as she called them idiot virgins.
God, how the fuck could she even think of any of that now? It meant nothing, but how could it mean nothing? She'd worked her whole life to make herself who she was, to make music and friends, and it was all going away because some fucking terrorists picked her school out of a lottery bag or something. The only way out was to-
No, no fucking way, I am not.
Her own thoughts pulled her back. She couldn't go along with them, there was no choice in the matter. Whoever killed Abel, whoever ruined Mikki's life right then and there, they weren't going to get away with it whoever they were. But more importantly, Mikki wasn't going to let the people who put them in this position get away with it either. She had to, somehow, get them all out of there.
But Abel's body was still laying at her knees, and she couldn't find the strength to move. At least, until she realized she wasn't the only one in the field.
When she heard Bree's voice, she whipped around and pushed herself up so suddenly she threw herself off balance, falling backwards into the water and mud again, completely soaking her back to match with the front. She lay there, looking up at the foreign sky for the moment.
If it was another day, she would have laughed at the fool she made of herself. But all Mikki could do was let out a loud pained cry as she realized just how futile she was in the face of everything.
He had walked for a while now, to get as far away from that house as he could. It was nothing new to him.
[ Julien Leblanc continued from pulling the wings off butterflies ]
The Converse had come off once he'd gotten a better idea of what traversing this fucking place would be like, and he'd laced up the boots that had served him faithfully through mud, rain, snow and just about every other kind of weather. It had absolutely been for the best, as these rice fields had proven to him, and he would take some measure of familiarity from wherever he could find it right about now.
Good thing you weren't wearing those at the start.
Striding over the bones of horses, poor things, as he went, there wasn't much subtle about his approach. Sneaking and water-logged mud tended to exist at cross purposes, and it wasn't as if he had anything to hide. He could see people, even, somewhat distant though they were. "Hello?!" Julien shouted as he approached, wanting to make himself heard loud and clear. "You two alright over there?!" It might spook one of them, yes, but it would be better to be seen now and receive an acknowledgement, a warning, anything instead of just approaching silently.
One of them looked to be kneeling, but that was understandable. All this mud and water made things hard even on the likes of him, so someone less capable would likely be drained even after a little while. Perhaps he'd help her through it, if she allowed him; he was good at...
that...
No. No no no, not now, not already. He had hoped the others would be better than that, to tear into each other like this so readily.
"Who... who is that?"
He couldn't see clearly through all the mud and God help him, he didn't know if he could bring himself to look. So he stared at the girl on her knees instead. Mikki, he could actually put a name to, now that he was closer and could see her in more detail. She was covered in mud as well.
[ Julien Leblanc continued from pulling the wings off butterflies ]
The Converse had come off once he'd gotten a better idea of what traversing this fucking place would be like, and he'd laced up the boots that had served him faithfully through mud, rain, snow and just about every other kind of weather. It had absolutely been for the best, as these rice fields had proven to him, and he would take some measure of familiarity from wherever he could find it right about now.
Good thing you weren't wearing those at the start.
Striding over the bones of horses, poor things, as he went, there wasn't much subtle about his approach. Sneaking and water-logged mud tended to exist at cross purposes, and it wasn't as if he had anything to hide. He could see people, even, somewhat distant though they were. "Hello?!" Julien shouted as he approached, wanting to make himself heard loud and clear. "You two alright over there?!" It might spook one of them, yes, but it would be better to be seen now and receive an acknowledgement, a warning, anything instead of just approaching silently.
One of them looked to be kneeling, but that was understandable. All this mud and water made things hard even on the likes of him, so someone less capable would likely be drained even after a little while. Perhaps he'd help her through it, if she allowed him; he was good at...
that...
No. No no no, not now, not already. He had hoped the others would be better than that, to tear into each other like this so readily.
"Who... who is that?"
He couldn't see clearly through all the mud and God help him, he didn't know if he could bring himself to look. So he stared at the girl on her knees instead. Mikki, he could actually put a name to, now that he was closer and could see her in more detail. She was covered in mud as well.
Mikki tried to get up like an infant learning to crawl, only to fall flat on her back. The body was still visible, still wet and fresh.
Bree felt her heart pound.
That was a person. A real, once-living person. She couldn’t tell who it was either, but it was definitely a person.
It wasn’t even the first time she saw a dead body. Remember Ms. Garcia? A chill ran up and down her spine. She remembered.
What the hell were you supposed to do in this situation? Bree looked around. Maybe there was a bit of undergrowth or something that she could reach towards Mikki so that she could pull herself out towards somewhere shallower and a bit more easily walkable. Maybe she should go in to help her out and see what can be done about the body. Maybe she should--
Or Julien can come by.
“How about we help Mikki out and make sure she’s okay before dealing with the dead body crap?” Bree shouted in his direction, before turning her head back towards Mikki.
Admittedly, she was more focusing on Mikki right now, because the longer she didn’t focus on the body.
Well, the longer she could at least pretend things were okay.
Bree felt her heart pound.
That was a person. A real, once-living person. She couldn’t tell who it was either, but it was definitely a person.
It wasn’t even the first time she saw a dead body. Remember Ms. Garcia? A chill ran up and down her spine. She remembered.
What the hell were you supposed to do in this situation? Bree looked around. Maybe there was a bit of undergrowth or something that she could reach towards Mikki so that she could pull herself out towards somewhere shallower and a bit more easily walkable. Maybe she should go in to help her out and see what can be done about the body. Maybe she should--
Or Julien can come by.
“How about we help Mikki out and make sure she’s okay before dealing with the dead body crap?” Bree shouted in his direction, before turning her head back towards Mikki.
Admittedly, she was more focusing on Mikki right now, because the longer she didn’t focus on the body.
Well, the longer she could at least pretend things were okay.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…
He felt like his brain was going a mile a minute. He couldn’t focus on anything. His breathing was shallow and ragged. His head felt like someone had hammered it in it was pounding so hard. He just woke up a few minutes ago and he had no fucking idea where he was. All he knew if that he was fucking soaked, and surrounded by fucking white mounds sticking out of the wet earth. He touched one and pulled at it, only to see it for what it truly was. He yelped audibly and pushed himself away from the skull.
He brought a hand up to his head only to feel that his hat was missing. He looked around him and found it nearby, floating in the water. He scooped it up and shook it off before returning it to his head. He shakily stood, and tried to get his bearings.
Jackson was not happy with this situation AT ALL.
[B36 - Jackson Sullivan Game Start]
Jackson felt himself shiver a bit now that he was out of the water. He looked around him to try and see anything resembling dry land. There was a small path nearby, and he made his way over to it. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a duffel bag, sitting right on the edge of the dry path. It was marked with a number, B36. Jackson felt another shiver run through his body, but this one wasn’t from the cold. All of a sudden his mind flooded with memories of the what happened after they all left DC. He felt the panic start to overtake him again. He reached his hand up to run his shoulder and felt it up against something smooth and cold. His breath caught in his throat as he let his hand softly run the length of the metal collar wrapped around his neck.
Fuck. This was all real, wasn’t it?
His mind returned to a conversation he’d had with Ross back before prom, and he laughed bitterly.
I guess they all should have been scared, after all. Ey, Ross?
At least he was spared from this hellhole. The lucky fuck. His mind was brought to Luca as well. Thank god she didn’t come on this trip. At least she didn’t have to die here, like the rest of them inevitably would. He only wished he’d have had the chance to tell her how he felt before all of this. No… maybe it was better this way. It would only serve to hurt her more if she knew his true feelings and he died on her here.
Jackson wasn’t stupid. He knew how slim the chance of survival was. He didn’t think he had the stomach to actually kill any of his classmates anyway, so may as well resign himself to his fate. He grabbed the bag and swung it onto his shoulder, stepping out of the water finally and onto dry land.
Then a scream pierced through the silence of the morning and he spun around in search of it’s source.
Before he knew what he was doing, Jackson began to sprint towards the direction the scream had come from, wildly looking around to try and see who it may have come from. He spotted two figures in the distance, and started towards them immediately. By the time he got closer, a third figure had joined them. He recognized all three people. Mikki Swift, of the famous Swiftball, was lying in the water of the rice paddy, behind her was Bree, a girl he knew by name and face only, and Julien was not far behind her. They all looked shaken to their cores, and as Jackson got closer, he called out.
“Is everyone alright? I heard a scream.” He shifted his eyes from one to the next, trying to get a feel for what was going on, then he spotted something in the waters of the paddy. His face contorted into disgust and horror as he realized what he was looking at.
“Oh fuck…” The game had already begun.
He felt like his brain was going a mile a minute. He couldn’t focus on anything. His breathing was shallow and ragged. His head felt like someone had hammered it in it was pounding so hard. He just woke up a few minutes ago and he had no fucking idea where he was. All he knew if that he was fucking soaked, and surrounded by fucking white mounds sticking out of the wet earth. He touched one and pulled at it, only to see it for what it truly was. He yelped audibly and pushed himself away from the skull.
He brought a hand up to his head only to feel that his hat was missing. He looked around him and found it nearby, floating in the water. He scooped it up and shook it off before returning it to his head. He shakily stood, and tried to get his bearings.
Jackson was not happy with this situation AT ALL.
[B36 - Jackson Sullivan Game Start]
Jackson felt himself shiver a bit now that he was out of the water. He looked around him to try and see anything resembling dry land. There was a small path nearby, and he made his way over to it. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a duffel bag, sitting right on the edge of the dry path. It was marked with a number, B36. Jackson felt another shiver run through his body, but this one wasn’t from the cold. All of a sudden his mind flooded with memories of the what happened after they all left DC. He felt the panic start to overtake him again. He reached his hand up to run his shoulder and felt it up against something smooth and cold. His breath caught in his throat as he let his hand softly run the length of the metal collar wrapped around his neck.
Fuck. This was all real, wasn’t it?
His mind returned to a conversation he’d had with Ross back before prom, and he laughed bitterly.
I guess they all should have been scared, after all. Ey, Ross?
At least he was spared from this hellhole. The lucky fuck. His mind was brought to Luca as well. Thank god she didn’t come on this trip. At least she didn’t have to die here, like the rest of them inevitably would. He only wished he’d have had the chance to tell her how he felt before all of this. No… maybe it was better this way. It would only serve to hurt her more if she knew his true feelings and he died on her here.
Jackson wasn’t stupid. He knew how slim the chance of survival was. He didn’t think he had the stomach to actually kill any of his classmates anyway, so may as well resign himself to his fate. He grabbed the bag and swung it onto his shoulder, stepping out of the water finally and onto dry land.
Then a scream pierced through the silence of the morning and he spun around in search of it’s source.
Before he knew what he was doing, Jackson began to sprint towards the direction the scream had come from, wildly looking around to try and see who it may have come from. He spotted two figures in the distance, and started towards them immediately. By the time he got closer, a third figure had joined them. He recognized all three people. Mikki Swift, of the famous Swiftball, was lying in the water of the rice paddy, behind her was Bree, a girl he knew by name and face only, and Julien was not far behind her. They all looked shaken to their cores, and as Jackson got closer, he called out.
“Is everyone alright? I heard a scream.” He shifted his eyes from one to the next, trying to get a feel for what was going on, then he spotted something in the waters of the paddy. His face contorted into disgust and horror as he realized what he was looking at.
“Oh fuck…” The game had already begun.
As Mikki pulled herself up again, no longer content to wallow in the shallow water, she became astutely aware of just how many people had come across her and Abel. From her knees, she looked around and saw that Bree Jones was there, her words being the ones to throw her off balance when she tried to get up in the first place. Julien Leblanc was there, someone she only really knew as Faith's friend no matter what he'd actually done. Jackson Sullivan was there, the tiny little alcoholic. They were gawking at her like she was a dead body.
And then she realized what they were actually gawking at.
None of them really knew Abel, did they? None of them were friends with him. This still wasn't really a personal thing to them, was it? To Mikki, Abel was someone who actually gave a shit about her life and she about his - he hyped Swiftball up so much he was probably responsible for half the attendees, and she'd spent most of junior year reminding him about homework. And now he was dead, and all these people could do was look shocked and act surprised.
She hated them.
Especially for their inane questions and statements. 'Who is that?' asked Julien of Mikki's dead friend. 'How about we help Mikki before dealing with the dead body crap?' said Bree like Mikki was a helpless toddler walking onto a highway and Abel was a pile of animal droppings on the lawn. 'Oh fuck' said Jackson, adding nothing because he had nothing to add. She was still trying to process one of her favourite people being gone forever and all they could do was play TV detective, like they were the important ones and Abel was nothing but a footnote in their lives, because that's all he was to them when he was alive - being murdered by someone in their class in cold blood didn't change anything.
As Mikki pulled herself to her feet, she felt like speaking to them, conveying just a little of how she felt right now in the hopes they'd get it. She'd decided that she didn't like Jackson much right now, so she turned to face the other two, voice raised.
"First of all, I'm fine. Second of all, this is Abel Zelenovic, and he was one of my best friends, so don't fucking speak about him like that."
With that done, she turned back around to Jackson.
"And yeah, 'oh fuck' is right! Glad you're fucking here!"
With that done, she trudged over to her bag, sitting in the mud where it fell, and she picked it up. It was now heavier than before, as bags that had been partially submerged in water happened to be, and she watched as the dirty water dripped from the bag before throwing it back to land, squatting down and cupping her down in her hands, resisting the urge to yell and swear again but still not fighting the urge to cry as it melted upwards from her chest. Mikki felt horrible, not only because everything she owned was now wet and probably useless, but because she felt like an idiot for even being concerned about that when one of her friends was dead beside her and all she could do was act out like the one person on E at a chill party. She was angry, she was sad, she was frustrated, she was hollow, she was grief-stricken and still trying to make sense of any of it, and worst of all she still couldn't understand why she was the only one there who seemed to be feeling any of that.
And then she realized what they were actually gawking at.
None of them really knew Abel, did they? None of them were friends with him. This still wasn't really a personal thing to them, was it? To Mikki, Abel was someone who actually gave a shit about her life and she about his - he hyped Swiftball up so much he was probably responsible for half the attendees, and she'd spent most of junior year reminding him about homework. And now he was dead, and all these people could do was look shocked and act surprised.
She hated them.
Especially for their inane questions and statements. 'Who is that?' asked Julien of Mikki's dead friend. 'How about we help Mikki before dealing with the dead body crap?' said Bree like Mikki was a helpless toddler walking onto a highway and Abel was a pile of animal droppings on the lawn. 'Oh fuck' said Jackson, adding nothing because he had nothing to add. She was still trying to process one of her favourite people being gone forever and all they could do was play TV detective, like they were the important ones and Abel was nothing but a footnote in their lives, because that's all he was to them when he was alive - being murdered by someone in their class in cold blood didn't change anything.
As Mikki pulled herself to her feet, she felt like speaking to them, conveying just a little of how she felt right now in the hopes they'd get it. She'd decided that she didn't like Jackson much right now, so she turned to face the other two, voice raised.
"First of all, I'm fine. Second of all, this is Abel Zelenovic, and he was one of my best friends, so don't fucking speak about him like that."
With that done, she turned back around to Jackson.
"And yeah, 'oh fuck' is right! Glad you're fucking here!"
With that done, she trudged over to her bag, sitting in the mud where it fell, and she picked it up. It was now heavier than before, as bags that had been partially submerged in water happened to be, and she watched as the dirty water dripped from the bag before throwing it back to land, squatting down and cupping her down in her hands, resisting the urge to yell and swear again but still not fighting the urge to cry as it melted upwards from her chest. Mikki felt horrible, not only because everything she owned was now wet and probably useless, but because she felt like an idiot for even being concerned about that when one of her friends was dead beside her and all she could do was act out like the one person on E at a chill party. She was angry, she was sad, she was frustrated, she was hollow, she was grief-stricken and still trying to make sense of any of it, and worst of all she still couldn't understand why she was the only one there who seemed to be feeling any of that.
"You smeared mud all over his face. I... I couldn't tell."
Mikki was not Ivy. This was grief, not hate, so he would let it just wash right on over him. There were more important things right now anyway, like fighting the emotion he could feel welling up in his throat. It burned like acid.
"And yeah... you actually, ah, knew him far better than I did." Talking about him like that felt wrong. But he knew he would need to face this somehow, and talking about him as if he would wake soon would only make the abject terror he'd felt in his final moments more sickening to look at.
A shirt sleeve should suffice for what he needed. Short as the one he had on was, Julien wasn't going to take a second longer for this than he absolutely had to. So he tore one off, taking it in hand as he knelt down beside him, fished a bottle of water out of his bag and saw to wiping his face as clean as he could manage. "But I kn—" He choked, forced to take a few moments to calm himself with ragged breaths, deep as he felt comfortable taking.
"I knew some things. He liked bass guitar, and he wore that fucking camo tuxedo to prom," there'd been no end of pictures of it floating around and he'd looked so alive then with the girl alongside him and she was here too, wasn't she? God... she'd only find out when that psychopathic cunt started rattling on about people they all knew and cared for like they were just meat for the grinder.
"And he... he wanted to go major league, didn't he? Headed for Knoxville." And now whoever did this had left in the dirt to rot like one of the animals that surrounded them.
When he held them up again to look, the bottle was mostly empty, the fabric strip coated in mud, and his hands wouldn't stop shaking. Julien had to assume it was done, because he couldn't bring himself to look again. He threw them aside, looking around at Mikki, Bree and Jackson. He recognised the other two now, even if it was hard to see through watery eyes.
"I'm not leaving him here. So someone help me. Please."
It was the only other thing that could be done for him, after all.
Mikki was not Ivy. This was grief, not hate, so he would let it just wash right on over him. There were more important things right now anyway, like fighting the emotion he could feel welling up in his throat. It burned like acid.
"And yeah... you actually, ah, knew him far better than I did." Talking about him like that felt wrong. But he knew he would need to face this somehow, and talking about him as if he would wake soon would only make the abject terror he'd felt in his final moments more sickening to look at.
A shirt sleeve should suffice for what he needed. Short as the one he had on was, Julien wasn't going to take a second longer for this than he absolutely had to. So he tore one off, taking it in hand as he knelt down beside him, fished a bottle of water out of his bag and saw to wiping his face as clean as he could manage. "But I kn—" He choked, forced to take a few moments to calm himself with ragged breaths, deep as he felt comfortable taking.
"I knew some things. He liked bass guitar, and he wore that fucking camo tuxedo to prom," there'd been no end of pictures of it floating around and he'd looked so alive then with the girl alongside him and she was here too, wasn't she? God... she'd only find out when that psychopathic cunt started rattling on about people they all knew and cared for like they were just meat for the grinder.
"And he... he wanted to go major league, didn't he? Headed for Knoxville." And now whoever did this had left in the dirt to rot like one of the animals that surrounded them.
When he held them up again to look, the bottle was mostly empty, the fabric strip coated in mud, and his hands wouldn't stop shaking. Julien had to assume it was done, because he couldn't bring himself to look again. He threw them aside, looking around at Mikki, Bree and Jackson. He recognised the other two now, even if it was hard to see through watery eyes.
"I'm not leaving him here. So someone help me. Please."
It was the only other thing that could be done for him, after all.
Wow, Jackson, so helpful! We truly needed you to stop by and give your input, really. It was just what was needed.
Nevermind she did the exact same thing a minute ago.
Bree clenched a fist. Okay, so we’re doing the sappy “he was my best friend and he played guitar and he wore a camo suit to prom” thing now? When the body was only just now found, when the killer could still be nearby, when Mikki could be stuck or hurt or otherwise in danger and they didn’t know yet? Actually, she said she was “fine,” but that could mean anything.
She too remembered Ms. Garcia. It was only a week ago Oppenheimer had to talk to her to figure out where Bree was staying. Roughly that time frame. Who the hell knew anymore?
Maybe it was time to pull the same authoritative tone she did with the swim team.
“Okay everyone. Let’s take a moment to breathe and think this through.”
She looked at Mikki, then at Julien. Bree rubbed her forehead for a moment, trying to keep her gaze off Abel.
Jesus Christ, Abel. What on earth happened?
“Look. I’m willing to help in any way I can. Is there a way I can help?”
Trying to keep things practical could only stave away the shake in her limbs and the occasional fleeting glances towards the body for so long. But she was going to try.
Nevermind she did the exact same thing a minute ago.
Bree clenched a fist. Okay, so we’re doing the sappy “he was my best friend and he played guitar and he wore a camo suit to prom” thing now? When the body was only just now found, when the killer could still be nearby, when Mikki could be stuck or hurt or otherwise in danger and they didn’t know yet? Actually, she said she was “fine,” but that could mean anything.
She too remembered Ms. Garcia. It was only a week ago Oppenheimer had to talk to her to figure out where Bree was staying. Roughly that time frame. Who the hell knew anymore?
Maybe it was time to pull the same authoritative tone she did with the swim team.
“Okay everyone. Let’s take a moment to breathe and think this through.”
She looked at Mikki, then at Julien. Bree rubbed her forehead for a moment, trying to keep her gaze off Abel.
Jesus Christ, Abel. What on earth happened?
“Look. I’m willing to help in any way I can. Is there a way I can help?”
Trying to keep things practical could only stave away the shake in her limbs and the occasional fleeting glances towards the body for so long. But she was going to try.
Jackson winced at Mikki’s outburst, but kept his mouth shut. He understood. She was less mad at them than she was just very overwhelmed right now. Jackson could relate. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of the body, now identified as Abel Zelenovic, since he arrived at the scene. Abel… Jackson hadn’t known him well, but he still knew him. He was one of the baseball bros, and he was pretty good. Jackson ket certain tabs on the other student athletes in his grade who looked like they had a shot at making it big. Abel was definitely in that category.
And now here he was, left dead in the murky waters.
Jackson felt a chill go up his spine. His stomach felt like it was tying itself in knots. This would be all of their fates eventually, right? That was the scariest part. Yes, someone they knew had been killed brutally, and that was awful in and of itself, but even worse was the idea that any one of them could be the next Abel. All of a sudden Jackson felt like he needed to lie down. That information was much too difficult and horrifying to try and process right now.
Julien was in the mud, cleaning off Abel’s face, and asking for help in a tone that hit Jackson in the chest. It wasn’t overt, but there was a small bit of desperation in his plea, and Jackson couldn’t bring himself to ignore it. He blinked away the bit of moisture that had built up in his eyes and tossed his bag to the side, onto the dry land on the edge of the paddie. He waded through the muddy water and over to Julien, putting a hand on the other boy’s arm and nodding at him, letting him know with his actions that he would help him with whatever he thought needed to be done.
He let his gaze fall down to Abel’s now cleaned face and he felt his breath catch in his throat. He’d never seen a dead body so close before. Only a few hours ago, Abel had still been alive, still been a person with hopes and dreams and friends and family. Now he was just another statistic of this sick game they were all trapped in.
Bree’s voice rung out and thankfully pulled his attention from the face of their dead classmate. Jackson turned to look at her, and hadn’t even realized that his vision was blurred with more wetness that decided to build up all on it’s own.
“Yeah…” He stated, his voice cracking a bit. He cleared his throat and took a breath. “We should all help. He deserves better than to be left here.” He looked at Julien and gave him a weak smile.
“What do you need me to do?”
And now here he was, left dead in the murky waters.
Jackson felt a chill go up his spine. His stomach felt like it was tying itself in knots. This would be all of their fates eventually, right? That was the scariest part. Yes, someone they knew had been killed brutally, and that was awful in and of itself, but even worse was the idea that any one of them could be the next Abel. All of a sudden Jackson felt like he needed to lie down. That information was much too difficult and horrifying to try and process right now.
Julien was in the mud, cleaning off Abel’s face, and asking for help in a tone that hit Jackson in the chest. It wasn’t overt, but there was a small bit of desperation in his plea, and Jackson couldn’t bring himself to ignore it. He blinked away the bit of moisture that had built up in his eyes and tossed his bag to the side, onto the dry land on the edge of the paddie. He waded through the muddy water and over to Julien, putting a hand on the other boy’s arm and nodding at him, letting him know with his actions that he would help him with whatever he thought needed to be done.
He let his gaze fall down to Abel’s now cleaned face and he felt his breath catch in his throat. He’d never seen a dead body so close before. Only a few hours ago, Abel had still been alive, still been a person with hopes and dreams and friends and family. Now he was just another statistic of this sick game they were all trapped in.
Bree’s voice rung out and thankfully pulled his attention from the face of their dead classmate. Jackson turned to look at her, and hadn’t even realized that his vision was blurred with more wetness that decided to build up all on it’s own.
“Yeah…” He stated, his voice cracking a bit. He cleared his throat and took a breath. “We should all help. He deserves better than to be left here.” He looked at Julien and gave him a weak smile.
“What do you need me to do?”
Mikki couldn't stay like she was forever, so when Julien started talking about Abel like he was a person and not a concept, a lot of what she was feeling began to dissolve piece by piece, especially when he began to show some basic respect by cleaning him up. She watched from her position, squat in the mud under her hands holding up her head, and she wanted to hate Julien but she couldn't anymore. It was wasted energy on something that just wasn't real. Because yes, Mikki did know that Abel was a great bass player, and she did have a huge fucking laugh at his camo tux in person, which she'd done so while waiting for Forrest and Andy to get back from what turned out to be the hospital. And Abel was major league material, and everyone knew it and all he had to do was go to college and get big, like everyone with a plan was going to do the moment they hit graduation. Julien was right in that Abel wasn't just her dirty little secret of a friend, he knew other people too, and maybe she just needed a moment to realize that rather than letting herself wade in her own emotions.
She still fell like shit, but she wasn't feeling like it towards anyone else anymore.
Because Julien was also right in that she wasn't leaving his body in the mud. She couldn't do anything for Abel being alive anymore, but she could make sure he didn't become a water-logged corpse, and that Lukas and Karen and Amy and Natalie didn't have to watch their son and brother turn into a piece of bloated mold. Mikki wasn't sure she had the strength, but right now all she could do was try and help.
Mikki pulled herself up from her position, looked at Julien, and nodded. She squelched through the mud towards her recently thrown bag, located the nearest piece of dry land, and swung her bag through the air. It landed just where she aimed, although closer to the mud than she would have liked, and as she stabilized herself from the spin she saw the outline of another bag sitting where she'd dropped her own in the first place. It was the same colour as her own, only empty, as though it had been rifled through. Mikki looked back at her friend in the mud, and pieced together the scene without needing to say anything. Still, she trudged forward to grab it from the mud, heavier than she expected it, and tossed it just like her own. A fine spray of water misted Mikki as it rotated in the air like an inebriated aerial dancer, before landing near her own.
With that done, Mikki walked over to the opposite side of Julien on Abel.
"Okay. Let's get him out of here."
She looked back around at Bree and Jackson.
"You two, we're getting him out of the mud. Come help."
She still fell like shit, but she wasn't feeling like it towards anyone else anymore.
Because Julien was also right in that she wasn't leaving his body in the mud. She couldn't do anything for Abel being alive anymore, but she could make sure he didn't become a water-logged corpse, and that Lukas and Karen and Amy and Natalie didn't have to watch their son and brother turn into a piece of bloated mold. Mikki wasn't sure she had the strength, but right now all she could do was try and help.
Mikki pulled herself up from her position, looked at Julien, and nodded. She squelched through the mud towards her recently thrown bag, located the nearest piece of dry land, and swung her bag through the air. It landed just where she aimed, although closer to the mud than she would have liked, and as she stabilized herself from the spin she saw the outline of another bag sitting where she'd dropped her own in the first place. It was the same colour as her own, only empty, as though it had been rifled through. Mikki looked back at her friend in the mud, and pieced together the scene without needing to say anything. Still, she trudged forward to grab it from the mud, heavier than she expected it, and tossed it just like her own. A fine spray of water misted Mikki as it rotated in the air like an inebriated aerial dancer, before landing near her own.
With that done, Mikki walked over to the opposite side of Julien on Abel.
"Okay. Let's get him out of here."
She looked back around at Bree and Jackson.
"You two, we're getting him out of the mud. Come help."
That made a certain amount of sense, really. Get Abel the hell out of the water. Figure out what to do next from there. Finding a good place to bury him was tricky, and actually burying him was going to be difficult.
But damn it, were they going to try.
As Bree stepped into the shallow water near her that she’d been avoiding, she shuddered as she felt mud and water touch her toes. It was a harsh reminder that wedge sandals weren’t the best shoes for this.
But she pushed past it, and waded towards them. Her feet and legs felt wet, dirty, and gross from the water, but she still did it. Bree went to Abel’s side, trying not to look at his face.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she said, then turned her head. “Jackson?”
But damn it, were they going to try.
As Bree stepped into the shallow water near her that she’d been avoiding, she shuddered as she felt mud and water touch her toes. It was a harsh reminder that wedge sandals weren’t the best shoes for this.
But she pushed past it, and waded towards them. Her feet and legs felt wet, dirty, and gross from the water, but she still did it. Bree went to Abel’s side, trying not to look at his face.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she said, then turned her head. “Jackson?”
Jackson nodded at Bree. He was ready for whatever they had to do. Jackson looked down a Abel’s face again and cringed. It was really hard to believe that someone he’d known for most of his life was already victimized b this place. But what worried him even more was the fact that none of them knew who’d been the one to do this to him. For all they knew, it could even be one of them here now, attempting to pull his body from the murky grave he’d been left to rot it.
No. That’s how these sick bastards wanted them to feel.
Jackson pushed the thoughts from his mind for now. There would be plenty of time for that later. Now they had to do something about Abel. It didn’t matter who he was, or what had led him to being killed like this. All that mattered was that he was their classmate, a kid just like them, and they couldn’t leave him here. Not like this. Jackson walked around Julien and came to the other side of Abel’s body from Mikki. He hesitantly put his arms under the corpse and looked over to Julien for instruction on how they were doing this.
“I’m ready when you are.” He stated. His voice shook a bit when he spoke, but he tried to ignore it.
No. That’s how these sick bastards wanted them to feel.
Jackson pushed the thoughts from his mind for now. There would be plenty of time for that later. Now they had to do something about Abel. It didn’t matter who he was, or what had led him to being killed like this. All that mattered was that he was their classmate, a kid just like them, and they couldn’t leave him here. Not like this. Jackson walked around Julien and came to the other side of Abel’s body from Mikki. He hesitantly put his arms under the corpse and looked over to Julien for instruction on how they were doing this.
“I’m ready when you are.” He stated. His voice shook a bit when he spoke, but he tried to ignore it.
That was... Not better, because nothing about this waking nightmare could ever be. But it was something. Mikki at least had a task to focus herself on right now, even if he knew the grief would crush her harder after this was done. Jackson was readily helping. And Bree... Bree had set aside whatever the fuck kind of logic led her to ask how she could help when an answer to that very question had literally just been put out on a silver platter. He could settle for that.
"Right... Lifting him."
The dead weight felt heavy in his hands, mud proving clingy and resistant to any attempt to free him from it. But Julien knew what he was doing, and he was strong enough to bear the strain that came with doing this just fine. He started to ease Abel up and out of the mud, nice and slow so the others could help ensure he wasn't just tipped face-down and nobody else would be set off-balance by a sudden shift of movement, and made use of that time to look around and see what would need to be avoided.
"Be careful. It won't do for someone to trip over horse bones or, ah... whatever the fuck else might be in here, frankly."
"Right... Lifting him."
The dead weight felt heavy in his hands, mud proving clingy and resistant to any attempt to free him from it. But Julien knew what he was doing, and he was strong enough to bear the strain that came with doing this just fine. He started to ease Abel up and out of the mud, nice and slow so the others could help ensure he wasn't just tipped face-down and nobody else would be set off-balance by a sudden shift of movement, and made use of that time to look around and see what would need to be avoided.
"Be careful. It won't do for someone to trip over horse bones or, ah... whatever the fuck else might be in here, frankly."
Mikki's hands maintained their grip on Abel's feet as the four of them lifted him from from mud. The journey to the edge was just as uneventful; even so, Mikki kept her eyes out for anything she could have properly tripped over and caused them all to fall down. She'd been in similar situations before - it would be nobody's fault yet one very specific person's fault at the same time.
And yet, despite just how great it would have been to see Mikki fall to the ground for a third time, re-soaking a set of already ill-fitting and soaked clothing, it went off without a hitch. Nobody fell, nobody was too weak to get Abel out of the mud, and least of all nobody suddenly joined him, as fitting as it would have been.
As the four of them reached grass, Mikki placed Abel's feet onto drier land, and stood back up. She saw her bag nearby, with Abel's halfway on top; she saw all three of the people that helped her to where she was, and she saw Abel's feet, because that's all she could muster the energy to look at. She would have had something to say, but she felt nothing was adequate here.
And yet, despite just how great it would have been to see Mikki fall to the ground for a third time, re-soaking a set of already ill-fitting and soaked clothing, it went off without a hitch. Nobody fell, nobody was too weak to get Abel out of the mud, and least of all nobody suddenly joined him, as fitting as it would have been.
As the four of them reached grass, Mikki placed Abel's feet onto drier land, and stood back up. She saw her bag nearby, with Abel's halfway on top; she saw all three of the people that helped her to where she was, and she saw Abel's feet, because that's all she could muster the energy to look at. She would have had something to say, but she felt nothing was adequate here.