She Wondered If There's A Way Out Of The Blue

[Somersault]

((Natali Greer continued from Lonely Rivers Flow To The Sea))

Natali didn’t know how long she’d been walking after she left Kyran.

One hour, two, maybe even three? All she knew was that the sky continued to get darker, from the pale moonlight of the early evening to something that made it quite hard to see what was right in front of her. Her footsteps still echoed on the ground, leaving prints, as she continued to stagger in search of the lighthouse, her safety, her shelter.

She needed shelter. She had talked about it with Kyran, she had thought about it in her mind, and still that thought shone brightly as ever, like a spotlight in the center of her brain. Spending the night out here? No way, because Nat was definitely not going to use her flashlight willy-nilly this early on. The Greers were not known for being an especially frivolous family, and she supposed she’d have to follow in that example. Even now, in the night and slowly strolling through with no light, she swore she could feel the cameras on her, still watching.

A yawn came out of her mouth, loudly and ungracefully, before she could clasp a hand over her mouth to stop it. Her vision became a bit blurrier then, even in the dark.

She had to keep moving. If she wasn’t moving, she was a target. Just had to keep walking towards what she thought was the lighthouse, keep on going.

Foot after foot. A mantra, repeated to herself as she slowly made her way towards the structure in the distance. Something to keep her safe, something to keep her going.

A quick glance at the gun she held. With only the moon to help her find her path, she had put her map away some time ago. Instead, she just walked straight ahead, not stopping.

Another yawn. Another sign of exhaustion, tiredness. What time did she sleep the night before the trip? Had she even slept at all? What was she doing then? Touching up photos, making plans for college? Natali couldn’t remember.

That worried her.

It seemed so long ago, like something that was a part of her but never really was, because now she was here, now she was forced to kill people to stay alive, now she was forced to try to find a way to not die, and she had no idea how to get out of this.

The gun? She looked at her knee. Was it possible to pull the trigger? Just end it for someone else? Brave. Brave. She was totally brave. Maybe she couldn’t lie for shit, but maybe she could lie to herself, hold onto it like it was about to burst out of her hands.

Nat took a deep breath, trying to calm her frazzled nerves. It was always so much easier to be the one behind the camera, the silent spectator other than the quick saying of cheese. None of it  made sense, and so she turned her head at the nearest tree, searching for anything else to focus on, and saw another camera.

For a moment, Nat stared it down, looking at it right in the lens, before turning forward once more.

She couldn’t let it see her at her worst. She couldn’t let it do that. Another quick gulp, a dry throat ingesting nothing. At least it gave her something to think about, something to think about the growing headache between her temples that threatened to stop her in her tracks if she kept going. Was it not enough sleep? The stressful situation of being stuck on like Murder Island? Was she pushing herself too hard? But she couldn’t stop here, she wouldn’t. No matter the pain, she needed to stay awake, if only for a bit longer. Just a bit longer, long enough to catch her breath, find somewhere safe to hide. With her bum knee, she wouldn’t be able to get away if someone saw her, just somewhere to stay, somewhere where no one could reach her. The cool breeze seemed much colder on her now than it did just a few minutes ago, even with her hoodie on. Trying to just shut it all out seemed like more and more of a tempting option, even if she’d still be able to hear her classmates butchering each other, stabbing, shooting, getting mutilated and mutilating, all of it, all at once.

Her eyes shot open. No. No. No.

“NO!”

Her scream echoed through the immediate vicinity, but it seemed to carry nowhere. Not that she cared. Trying to stick her head in the sand? There was no chance in hell for that. She had power, she had a gun, she could totally do this, even if her rapidly beating heart said otherwise. No more being piggybacked like a sack of meat or something, no more freaking out when things were going to shit. Own shit, back herself up. Be the one staring people down with a gun, not the other way around. Self-motivation, self-belief. Live out loud, or something like that. Was there another similar crappy motivational saying? Regardless of what it was, here was the thing that was important: She had to be the one in charge of her own destiny. Take the good and the bad, all of it. Just don’t let anyone trample over you, take charge. That was a simple philosophy to follow, right? Right?  The gun would help her. It needed to.

Her eyelids drooped, forcing to her to put her eyes wide open to ensure they wouldn’t just fall over like that again.Turning back around, she saw the tree was still there, as if it could move within the span of a few seconds. Still, it looked like as tempting a place as any. Just a few more steps, just a bit, then she could lay down against it, rest for a bit. But first, just a quick nap. Just something to regain her strength.

Natali sat against the tree, her daypack in her lap, snoring.

She slept like the dead.

---

When the intercoms blared like a siren, her eyes shot open, unfocused, barely moving. A frantic shake of her head was all she did, looking around as if there was anyone there. A threat? A murderer? She tried to steel herself, tried to act as if everything was alright, before coming to the realization that it couldn’t be like that.

It could never be like that.

Natali continued to sit against the tree, listening intently to the announcements of that Danya man or whatever. People were dead. She had seen a dead body. Should she have felt shock, surprise? Sadness at someone else dying? Happiness that it wasn’t her? But, honestly, she didn’t know what she was feeling. There was laughter there, an honest chuckle, followed by crying, tears falling down her cheeks. Why? Who knew? She knew people were watching, but it all continued to come out. At least she wasn’t wearing makeup, so no smudging. She wouldn’t have guessed she would’ve been so happy about that.

Stop it? It was like a valve had been released, a broken fish tank, just flowing, all flowing, still laughing, as the names came out, of the killers and the killed.

Who had killed? Sophie, KK, Jay, Bridgette, Everett.

The tears stopped. The laughing did too. A mess, that’s what she was right now. Looked like one too, probably, if she had any kind of mirror. Her hand unzipped her bag, looked for something she knew wasn’t there, but she needed.

A camera. A scrapbook. Something, anything to remind her of what was waiting out there. Mom, Dad, Eliza, everyone. They were there, right? Even if she killed, even if she did shitty things, they’d still be there, right?

But could she be the only one left, the only left of what was meant to be the P.J. Hobbs class of 2017? Could she?

She looked, but she found nothing, not that she hadn’t been expecting that. No camera, no nothing. The gun was there, though. That was her lifeline, her tether, her only claim to anything on this fucking island. Would her friends be there for her? She left Kyran, got shot at by Tina, attacked by Blaine, left Simon, was anyone there? For her? Maybe being alone wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe she could bear it. Maybe she could endure. Maybe she was strong. But, maybe she wasn’t. Maybe it was all shit, she was gonna be dead within the next few hours, maybe she’d find a friend. Maybe she’d find nobody.

Maybe she would just sit here, waiting, watching, for someone else to come along, someone else to arrive.

A leaf fell from the tree, landing on the top of her head. She brushed it off of her hair, sighing. Still, no one. No one at all. A lot of wind, yes, but she saw no one. Sometimes, she heard a gunshot, screaming, then nothing. But here she was, still sitting against a drive, no motivation to stand up, get up, at least, nothing strong. If she wanted to live, she guessed, she would have to move. Slowly limp away, pray that a stray bullet didn’t find it’s way between her eyes or something.

The camera was still whirring, probably. Maybe they had just left the camera running, seeing her continue to sit against the tree. Kids were killing, getting killed, as she continued to sit and generally laze about. But, really, what else could she do? Find people that hopefully weren’t going to kill her? Try to stick people up, because having a gun and a bum knee made her that much more threatening? Chase a fool’s dream? See the sea again? Nat mulled it over for a moment. It wasn’t as if she could really stay here forever, after all. Hadn’t she told Kyran she had plans? Shelter? Friends? They were vague and unformed, but maybe something could be found there. If not…

Another glance at the gun. Another glance away. It would be there. It would always be there, glinting, a silver shape among the mess of her bag, or tucked into her pocket. Could she even use it? Didn’t matter. What did matter, was that she had it. No one else did. That kept her safe. That made her a less appealing target than the kids who got like books or whatever.

The bag was unzipped once more. She pulled out her map, looking for anything that looked appealing, anything that didn’t look like it was a death trap waiting to happen. The lighthouse was still there, and she turned her head. Yep, it was still in the distance, sorta closer to her now, but still, off in the distance. It was close, yes, also far, but something to work towards, strive for, other than just living. Like, if there was one thing Natali knew her entire time on the island, it was this:

Natali Greer wanted to live.

But, she didn’t know how she was gonna get there. A look at her knee. Less purple than when it still wasn’t wrapped? Was that a good sign? It still didn’t sting badly, but a dull ache was still ever present in her knee, and to be totally honest, kind of her entire body. A tree wasn’t exactly the best mattress, after all. She did need to get up though, so some kind of progress needed to be made there.

A grunt of effort, hands placed on the ground. A push was all she needed to get standing up, but it took significantly more effort than that to stay upright. But, she managed. It was all she could do. Then, the bag. Bent over, picked it up. Hoisted it back onto her shoulder, even if it somehow seemed heavier than how it did like  day ago. How the fuck was that possible? Maybe it was just best to leave that question unanswered or whatever, just not focus on it.
She had her things, gun was - in the pocket of her hoodie, that was good, everything was there.

Back to plans though, that was really important. Should she just continue heading to the lighthouse, try to find out who was there? Or continue past it? Was any one choice really better?

At least she actually had choices now, rather than being piggybacked around by someone else. It was going to be her stupid choice if it got her killed, but at least it was her choice? Actually, maybe not. No. Living was the number one priority. But couldn’t she also have freedom? Some semblance of normalcy?

Maybe she should just start walking, decide on all of it later. Maybe there was no time. Maybe there was too much time. But, there was probably some small smidgen of time, at least.

Time. Maybe that was all she needed.

Slowly but surely, Natali slowly left the vicinity of the tree she had been using as shelter, and walked off into the distance.

The camera turned around to see her go, but it was only a minute or so before she was entirely out of it’s field of vision.

Out of sight, out of mind.

((Natali Greer continued in Perilous Prelude))