Burnout

[LordB†]

((James Wade continued from The Usual Suspects))

James wasn't sure how long he'd been running, or if any of the girls had decided to pursue him. He hadn't looked back since he'd taken off, sprinting for his life into the forest. What he did know is that if he kept going he'd probably pass out. He slowed his pace as he emerged from the trees and into a clearer area before dropping to his knees in exhaustion.

Okay, just breathe. Just breathe. Breathe.

He fell on his side, and lay there for some time as he slowly caught his breath. James was drenched in sweat, his long curly hair now matted and tangled after all he'd been through. James rolled onto his back, looking up at the sky. He hated this island. He hated Alda and all those other idiots who'd decided to go around killing people and he hated the bastards who were making them do this. Most of all, though, he hated the fact that he'd been given a fucking board game as a weapon. The box lay on the grass next to him, slightly crumpled from where he'd been holding it. James sighed and sat up, taking in his surroundings.

He'd wandered into some kind of golf course; or at least what a golf course would probably look like if it was left alone for a few years. At least there weren't any others around here from what he could see. James wiped his glasses with the hem of his shirt. His legs were still aching badly from his dash through the woods, and felt like dead weights. Come on, got to get moving. James slowly clambered to his feet, grabbing his useless weapon as he did so. It was eerily quiet here, much as it had been just after he'd woken up on the island. Something about it unnerved him greatly.

I'm alone again.

That was it. He'd felt fine once he'd ran into Kathryn, and once they had been joined by Amy, Ian and Venice things hadn't seemed so bad. Now what? Everyone had gone off, splitting up their little group. They had read Venice's name out on the announcement earlier. By now everyone else he'd met could be dead. By the next announcement, they could be reading his name out. James sat back down, holding his head in his hands. Now he was alone, he had time to think about his situation. That was bad.

Okay, okay, there are over a hundred of us still running about. Then there's me. James, the nerdy Brit with no friends. Wonderful. I can't fire a gun but give me a controller and I'll beat any of these pricks. I can punch people, but that's about it. I'm going to die, no question about it. Someone's gonna shoot me if I'm lucky, or I'll run into some sadistic bastard who guts me with a knife. Unless my box of Clue turns into a machine gun I'm dead. I'm going to fucking die here.

James sat there, rocking backwards and forwards as he clutched his knees. There was no suppressing this panic attack; he'd sit here for as long as it took, taking rapid breaths as he tried to calm himself down. He'd have to come up with a plan sooner or later. It was that or die.

----

Morning. James sat up, rubbing his eyes. His glasses lay atop the Clue box nearby. He put them on, and lay back on the grass. It had been some time before he'd finally fallen asleep last night in the middle of the field; it was a miracle that no one had simply walked up and killed him in his sleep. James yawned and got to his feet, looking up at the overcast sky. He sighed, and began to rummage through his bag for food. Got to ration this out, might be here a while. After spending most of last night curled in a ball crying, James had woken up today having made the decision not to die. Easier said than done, I suppose.

Then came the announcements.

James pulled out his map as a voice boomed out over the island's many speakers. The first speaker shared his name, and James' heart skipped a beat when the bastard pretended that he'd have to kill them all. Then Danya read out the names. He'd heard two announcements already, but it was still discomforting to hear the names of dead classmates being read out, along with the people who'd killed them. When Amy's name came up, James couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt over it; he'd left her back at their encampment while he ran off after Kathryn, for all the good it had done him in the end. Its not my fault, James tried to reassure himself. She had the chance to come with us, and didn't go.

The guy who'd murdered her had killed two others, too. James wasn't sure if he felt terrified or angry at this. He'd got on his high horse and made a little heroic speech to Kathryn's group yesterday about not killing people, and was nearly killed because of it. He wasn't sure if he'd even meant what he'd said; it was mostly a way of getting them to trust him, and had backfired when it turned out that they were pretty okay with murdering people.

Could I do it?

James hadn't really ever gotten into a serious fight in his life. He'd had a few scraps with his brothers back home and had done a fair bit of boxing at the gym, but nothing life-threatening. He'd killed thousands in his years of playing video games, but that wasn't real. Aside from punching people, half the stuff he knew came from movies and games. Still, he had to protect himself, right? If Alda walked out of the treeline right now with that whip, would he just stand there and refuse to play, just because it was the 'right' thing to do?

No, I'd fucking choke the bitch after what she did yesterday.

Where had that come from? Sure, he'd been terrified at the prospect of being killed, but now that he'd had some time to think, James was pissed off at the way she'd treated him. As the announcements ended, James took a mental note of the danger zones. He didn't have a pen or pencil to mark them on his map, so he'd just have to remember them. It was still unnaturally quiet here, and he was beginning to feel quite uneasy. He stood up and zipped up his bag, tossing an energy bar wrapper aside. James wouldn't go around killing people left and right, but he sure as hell wasn't going to take shit off anyone. He'd already had years of that in school. He pushed his long hair back, getting as much of it off his face as he could. I'll have to cut that when I get a chance, he thought. It was time to stop being a lazy bastard and get moving. After rubbing his glasses clean on the hem of his now-slightly grubby shirt, James set off to find some friends.

((James Wade continued in The Best Part of Waking Up))