((Alice Gilman: Continued from
Wish I Had a Chance, Here, mild GMing of Carlos approved))
Alice wasn't sure of how long she had run, or in what direction. Her only concern had been getting as far away as possible from the farmhouse. Inevitably, though, the rush of adrenaline wore off, and the never exactly in shape Alice was forced to soon slow down, before collapsing to the ground entirely.
She knew that Casey was already dead.
It would have been easier to try and deny it, to close her mind and refuse to accept reality. Alice hadn't
seen Casey's collar explode, after all, couldn't there still be a chance that she had managed to escape in time? That her collar had miraculously malfunctioned, completely failing to explode? However much she wanted to, though, Alice knew she could never believe it. She had spent her entire time on the island thus far lying to herself, allowing herself to feel safe, allowing herself to believe that she, Carlos, and Casey could just ride out the storm unscathed.
Despite her grand show of "leaving behind the person she was" on the first day, despite her speech to the cameras in the hospital, Alice had still held hope inside of her of everything going back to normal. She'd gone into their little group with the full expectation of it falling apart, but as day after day passed of surviving together, of avoiding any of the real dangers that inhabited the island, she had allowed herself to grow complacent.
It would have been so much easier if Alice had never run into Casey, or Carlos, had never allowed herself to grow attached. She would have heard their names on the announcements, felt perhaps a moment of grief, and would then be able to return to surviving. She wouldn't be here, collapsed on the ground, too numb from shock and guilt to even cry.
Alice barely even noticed when Carlos caught up to her. They stayed there, silent, for a time, neither able or willing to address the conspicuous absence in their group. "Can't just stay out here forever." Alice eventually said, tonelessly. "There's a lighthouse close by. We can head there." There wasn't any opposition. The lighthouse was out of the way, and neither of them wanted to deal with other people.
The walk to the lighthouse was quiet, uneventful. The lighthouse was similarly quiet, except for the corpse in the museum, with a bag lying next to it. Alice took the bag, then ascended to the next floor as quickly as she could. From the smell of it, the corpse had been there for quite a while. The second floor was also empty. Alice and Carlos wordlessly set up camp, following the same routine that had served them well earlier. Alice took a moment to inspect the bags that they had piled in a corner.
G064, Gilman, Alice. B053, Whaley, Michael. G037, Malkovitch, Casey. B015, Lazaro, Carlos.
Just a few hours earlier, Alice had been worried about their group running out of rations. But now, with only two of them, and the addition of the deceased Michael Whaley's bag, (Alice neither knew nor particularly cared about him, and it was best his supplies were used by someone, right?) they had more than enough to last a few days. It wasn't much of a relief.
"Think we should check out the tower?" Alice asked quietly, gesturing vaguely at the stairs. "Doubt anyone's up there, but best to make sure."