((Damien Stone continued from Put Down the Pen, Take Up the Sword))
The two marched through the forest for quite some time before finally deciding to stop, the main reason being that they were now in the early stages of dusk, and neither of them were particularly fond of the idea of skulking around in the dark when they could be taking a well deserved nap. Had to keep their strength up after all.
On the way to this location, Damien had stopped for a second when he spotted a body lying face first in the muck, a body whom he later confirmed to belong to none other than Caleb Smartt. Dead as a doornail of course, what with the huge gaping hole in the back of his head. It was a disturbing sight to say the least, especially considering the fact that Damien was relatively fond of the fellow athlete. It was a damn shame to see a guy like him go out so early, but at least this way Damien wouldn't have to worry about taking him on himself.
Rest easy. I'll make sure that bitch pays for this...
After checking to make sure that nothing valuable had been left, the two boys got up and headed off, taking Caleb's empty bag with them. It took them a while to find somewhere suitable for a temporary shelter, seeing as the forest didn't exactly offer much in the way of concealment, but eventually they found the perfect spot. Near the top of a mildly steep slope lay an overturned pine tree that overlooked a small clearing, one which would make for a perfect hiding place should anyone wander into said clearing.
In other words, it was the perfect place to set-up a trap.
Only problem though was Damien wasn't 100% certain how to set an effective one up. Whilst on the way he had suggested that they make some punji sticks so that they could make some pit traps, Vietnam style, Brian had been quick to remind him that unless they found a shovel they had no means of making one that would actually be any good. Not that it stopped Damien from suggesting a number of other possible uses for punji sticks, all of which were written off for the simple reason that neither of them knew how to make an effective booby trap, nor did they have the necessary resources. In the end, they decided that setting up an ambush would be their best bet, namely by leaving Caleb's unattended bag near the bottom of the slope and taking turns keeping an eye out for potential targets from the safety of the overturned tree.
And so, with their ambush set up, the two waited patiently for their first target to show up.
And waited.
And waited...
And waited......
It was daylight by the time anything interesting happened.
Over the night, the two boys took shifts so that they could both get a fair amount of sleep, with Damien using his as an opportunity to start sharpening some long sticks with Yumi's knife to serve as makeshift javelins. He had made just over half-a-dozen by the time his last shift came about, the blonde-haired boy slowly drifting to sleep before being suddenly awoken by the sound of the morning announcement.
What? No song this time? Shame...
He listened to what Adams had to say, somewhat taken aback by his serious tone at first. Sure, he knew that the guy couldn't keep the lighthearted jokester act up all the time, but it was still surprising to hear him talk so solemnly about anything.
Not that he didn't find the subject Adams was so serious about to be darkly amusing nevertheless.
"That's what you get for being a dumbass..." he whispered to Brian, making sure to keep quiet in case anyone was nearby.
After listing a number of names, despite his sour memories of the event in question, Damien couldn't stifle a slight chuckle when he brought up him and Brian.
"Heh, you hear that? Looks like people are gonna be looking out for both of us..."
Yumi Nunes, that's what her name was. Wonder what her family must be thinki... God damnit Damien, why'd you have to go think about something like that?
"Shame, might have been useful if people didn't know you were playing. Ah well, I always preferred taking a more direct appeoach anyway."
Said the Spider to the Fly
Said the Spider to the Fly
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
((Becky Long continued from Hush, Hush))
Becky’s journey back to town, hoping to find a cosy bed to sleep in, had not been a success. Navigating the woods in the dark was bad enough, but it wasn't helped by the fact that she was outright exhausted from her stressful day of fighting with friends, fighting with people she didn’t like, and getting forced into a situation where she would most probably die. In the end, she’d wound up crawling into the first hollow log she’d come across that would fit her. She had mold for a pillow and the ever present concern of resident insects crawling into her hair, but it still beat sitting out in the wind in the cold night.
She would’ve slept forever had the morning announcements not served as her alarm clock, much to her annoyance. She wondered for a moment why she was sleeping in a log, but recollection of where she was hit her as she crawled back out into the morning sun, Adams’ voice still droning on. She groaned to herself as she brushed the debris out of her hair, squinting her eyes as they adjusted to the new day. She knew all along that yesterday hadn’t been a dream, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t hope otherwise.
Adams was still going on, his voice still just as annoying. She never had been a morning person, but, never the less, when he started talking about herself, she started paying attention.
She hadn’t really thought about what Tori had told her, about how her name was going to be on the announcements and how everyone would know she’d killed Erin, but she couldn’t claim to be surprised when it happened. The fact that Adams had recapped what had happened in a very confusing way only made her less enthusiastic about paying him any time of day.
It was mention that Yumi had died that finally caught her attention. It took her a moment to realise that murder was what tag teaming meant, but if Adams was telling the truth (he hadn’t made up what had happened to Erin, either, so it wasn’t like him lying was any more likely now than it was before) then Erin had died for nothing. She frowned, knowing that she should feel terrible about the whole thing, but no matter how hard she tried she just couldn’t foster any more sadness than that.
She’d told herself a dozen times whilst she was trying to get to sleep and she’d tell it to herself again that morning: Erin had been an accident. The fact that one of her classmates, or at least one that she’d had to deal with personally, was dead, was still something she couldn’t make up her mind about. Of course it was awful, but these were far from normal circumstances and, so far, normal logic wasn’t serving her well. It bothered her that she couldn’t feel more guilty about the whole situation, but she was still tired from the night before, so she chalked it up to that and moved on. She could grieve later, when she’d really woken up.
After taking note of the danger zones and thanking the heavens as the announcements finally came to a close, she sat herself down on her bedroom and let out a deep sigh.
Now what?
She looked around for a few moments, just in case something popped out of the trees and gave her something to do. She saw a squirrel, that was something, but other than that, nothing. So instead, she raised her arm and took a quick whiff of her armpit.
Yup, she needed a shower.
The problem with traveling through the woods at night was that she didn’t really know where she was on the map; as a result, she couldn’t really tell how she was going to get to the town, where she’d hopefully find a working faucet. So, based on the fact she’d hit one of three things, she headed away from the rising sun and hoped she wouldn’t walk into a lake or trip up on a slope.
As she trekked through the woods for the second day in a row, the weather mildly more pleasant than the day before, her thoughts turned back to yesterday and how her life had changed for the worse. She wasn’t angry anymore about what Tori had said, but Tori was a stupid idiot anyway, so she had no reason to be. The fact that Erin had died was crappy, but it still hadn’t been her intention, so it’s not like anyone could blame her. Whether Erin’s parents would agree with her she did not consider.
All in all, she was still stuck with a bomb around her neck and no idea of how she’d survive the game to get home. The last man standing was the one who got to leave, as far as she knew, so for now her focus was still on being the last man standing. It just made sense to be that, after all.
She still didn’t want to think about Erin anymore, however.
As time passed along on her little trek, she soon wound up spotting Caleb Smartt’s stolen bag sat in the middle of Damien and Brian’s web, sitting there in all its mystery. The sight of an unattended day pack was, of course, confusing for Becky Long. She took a cursory glance around, called out a polite “Hello?” just in case its owner was still about, then took a step towards it to investigate, straight into the two boys’ trap.
Becky’s journey back to town, hoping to find a cosy bed to sleep in, had not been a success. Navigating the woods in the dark was bad enough, but it wasn't helped by the fact that she was outright exhausted from her stressful day of fighting with friends, fighting with people she didn’t like, and getting forced into a situation where she would most probably die. In the end, she’d wound up crawling into the first hollow log she’d come across that would fit her. She had mold for a pillow and the ever present concern of resident insects crawling into her hair, but it still beat sitting out in the wind in the cold night.
She would’ve slept forever had the morning announcements not served as her alarm clock, much to her annoyance. She wondered for a moment why she was sleeping in a log, but recollection of where she was hit her as she crawled back out into the morning sun, Adams’ voice still droning on. She groaned to herself as she brushed the debris out of her hair, squinting her eyes as they adjusted to the new day. She knew all along that yesterday hadn’t been a dream, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t hope otherwise.
Adams was still going on, his voice still just as annoying. She never had been a morning person, but, never the less, when he started talking about herself, she started paying attention.
She hadn’t really thought about what Tori had told her, about how her name was going to be on the announcements and how everyone would know she’d killed Erin, but she couldn’t claim to be surprised when it happened. The fact that Adams had recapped what had happened in a very confusing way only made her less enthusiastic about paying him any time of day.
It was mention that Yumi had died that finally caught her attention. It took her a moment to realise that murder was what tag teaming meant, but if Adams was telling the truth (he hadn’t made up what had happened to Erin, either, so it wasn’t like him lying was any more likely now than it was before) then Erin had died for nothing. She frowned, knowing that she should feel terrible about the whole thing, but no matter how hard she tried she just couldn’t foster any more sadness than that.
She’d told herself a dozen times whilst she was trying to get to sleep and she’d tell it to herself again that morning: Erin had been an accident. The fact that one of her classmates, or at least one that she’d had to deal with personally, was dead, was still something she couldn’t make up her mind about. Of course it was awful, but these were far from normal circumstances and, so far, normal logic wasn’t serving her well. It bothered her that she couldn’t feel more guilty about the whole situation, but she was still tired from the night before, so she chalked it up to that and moved on. She could grieve later, when she’d really woken up.
After taking note of the danger zones and thanking the heavens as the announcements finally came to a close, she sat herself down on her bedroom and let out a deep sigh.
Now what?
She looked around for a few moments, just in case something popped out of the trees and gave her something to do. She saw a squirrel, that was something, but other than that, nothing. So instead, she raised her arm and took a quick whiff of her armpit.
Yup, she needed a shower.
The problem with traveling through the woods at night was that she didn’t really know where she was on the map; as a result, she couldn’t really tell how she was going to get to the town, where she’d hopefully find a working faucet. So, based on the fact she’d hit one of three things, she headed away from the rising sun and hoped she wouldn’t walk into a lake or trip up on a slope.
As she trekked through the woods for the second day in a row, the weather mildly more pleasant than the day before, her thoughts turned back to yesterday and how her life had changed for the worse. She wasn’t angry anymore about what Tori had said, but Tori was a stupid idiot anyway, so she had no reason to be. The fact that Erin had died was crappy, but it still hadn’t been her intention, so it’s not like anyone could blame her. Whether Erin’s parents would agree with her she did not consider.
All in all, she was still stuck with a bomb around her neck and no idea of how she’d survive the game to get home. The last man standing was the one who got to leave, as far as she knew, so for now her focus was still on being the last man standing. It just made sense to be that, after all.
She still didn’t want to think about Erin anymore, however.
As time passed along on her little trek, she soon wound up spotting Caleb Smartt’s stolen bag sat in the middle of Damien and Brian’s web, sitting there in all its mystery. The sight of an unattended day pack was, of course, confusing for Becky Long. She took a cursory glance around, called out a polite “Hello?” just in case its owner was still about, then took a step towards it to investigate, straight into the two boys’ trap.
((Brian Meyerhold Callison continued from Put Down the Pen, Take Up the Sword))
After spending the night amongst the pine trees, Brian wasn't feeling as resreshed as he normally would after a good night's sleep. Partially due to the conditions, and partially due to the fact that he and Damien had been sleeping in shifts to minimize their chances of being attacked while making sure each of them was at least somewhat rested. The two of them now hid in the trees, waiting to ambush anyone who attempted to loot the discarded bag of the deceased Caleb Smartt.
Brian honestly felt a little disappointed upon finding Caleb's corpse. Caleb had been a fine patriot, and seeing someone like him dead on the ground, especially so early in the Program, was quite upsetting. If it hadn't been for that Mexican girl and her gun, he would have easily made it to the halfway point. This gave Brian even further reason to continue his mission in the valley. He didn't want to see or hear of any more Americans getting gunned down, not until they were the only ones left.
The announcement had begun with a much more serious tone than the previous one. Pity, since Brian had somewhat been looking forward to hearing another one of the General's renditions of a great American song. The General mentioned a boy named Marley Jenkins, who Brian could vaguely remember hearing about at school. Jenkins had apparently been slandering America, and as a result, the General had blown his collar. Brian felt that the General made the right call in eliminating Jenkins. The last thing they needed right now was an anarchist running around spreading discord to the other students.
The rest of the deaths were more like the norm, rather than execution due to treason. Some girl whose name he couldn't pronounce got killed by Carlyle Shotton, who Brian knew nothing about. Becky Long had killed Erin Underwood by... kicking her into something, apparently. Dan Orvall, another person that wasn't on Brian's radar, had walked into a danger zone and died. What an embarrassing way to go.
Brian couldn't help but feel a little pride when his and Damien's kill was announced. Evidently the girl's name had been Yumi Nunes, but that wasn't why Brian was proud. He was proud of his and Damien's efforts having an effect in the Program. He hadn't expected to be mentioned in the announcements himself, since, traditionally, only the killer and the victim were announced, but apparently Brian had left enough of an impression on the General to warrant a mention on the anouncements. To him, that was very much something to be proud of.
The last death was Stella Barnes, shot by Frank Callahan. This perplexed Brian. They were both good patriots. Why were they turning on each other so soon? Brian knew that he and Damien would have to work quicker to accomplish their goals if the true Americans were already starting to kill each other. The danger zones were also announced, but since he and Damien were not in one, he relegated those to the back of his mind.
"Heh, you hear that? Looks like people are gonna be looking out for both of us... Shame, might have been useful if people didn't know you were playing. Ah well, I always preferred taking a more direct approach anyway."
Damien had brought up a good point. If Brian hadn't been announced as being involved with the killing of Yumi Nunes, then he would have had a much easier time dealing with the other students. Even for someone as talented with words as he was, being associated with murder tends to make people uneasy.
"Yes, I suppose you're right. Most people probably wouldn't be too keen on associating with a killer." Brian responded. "But it's not like we're a couple of psychopaths. We have a reason for what we do. We're trying to help America. We have only done what is necessary."
Suddenly, Brian heard a voice coming through the trees. It was a female, and she seemed to be calling out to someone. Brian held up his hand to get Damien's attention while making as little noise as possible and whispered a command.
"Keep your voice down. Someone's here."
After spending the night amongst the pine trees, Brian wasn't feeling as resreshed as he normally would after a good night's sleep. Partially due to the conditions, and partially due to the fact that he and Damien had been sleeping in shifts to minimize their chances of being attacked while making sure each of them was at least somewhat rested. The two of them now hid in the trees, waiting to ambush anyone who attempted to loot the discarded bag of the deceased Caleb Smartt.
Brian honestly felt a little disappointed upon finding Caleb's corpse. Caleb had been a fine patriot, and seeing someone like him dead on the ground, especially so early in the Program, was quite upsetting. If it hadn't been for that Mexican girl and her gun, he would have easily made it to the halfway point. This gave Brian even further reason to continue his mission in the valley. He didn't want to see or hear of any more Americans getting gunned down, not until they were the only ones left.
The announcement had begun with a much more serious tone than the previous one. Pity, since Brian had somewhat been looking forward to hearing another one of the General's renditions of a great American song. The General mentioned a boy named Marley Jenkins, who Brian could vaguely remember hearing about at school. Jenkins had apparently been slandering America, and as a result, the General had blown his collar. Brian felt that the General made the right call in eliminating Jenkins. The last thing they needed right now was an anarchist running around spreading discord to the other students.
The rest of the deaths were more like the norm, rather than execution due to treason. Some girl whose name he couldn't pronounce got killed by Carlyle Shotton, who Brian knew nothing about. Becky Long had killed Erin Underwood by... kicking her into something, apparently. Dan Orvall, another person that wasn't on Brian's radar, had walked into a danger zone and died. What an embarrassing way to go.
Brian couldn't help but feel a little pride when his and Damien's kill was announced. Evidently the girl's name had been Yumi Nunes, but that wasn't why Brian was proud. He was proud of his and Damien's efforts having an effect in the Program. He hadn't expected to be mentioned in the announcements himself, since, traditionally, only the killer and the victim were announced, but apparently Brian had left enough of an impression on the General to warrant a mention on the anouncements. To him, that was very much something to be proud of.
The last death was Stella Barnes, shot by Frank Callahan. This perplexed Brian. They were both good patriots. Why were they turning on each other so soon? Brian knew that he and Damien would have to work quicker to accomplish their goals if the true Americans were already starting to kill each other. The danger zones were also announced, but since he and Damien were not in one, he relegated those to the back of his mind.
"Heh, you hear that? Looks like people are gonna be looking out for both of us... Shame, might have been useful if people didn't know you were playing. Ah well, I always preferred taking a more direct approach anyway."
Damien had brought up a good point. If Brian hadn't been announced as being involved with the killing of Yumi Nunes, then he would have had a much easier time dealing with the other students. Even for someone as talented with words as he was, being associated with murder tends to make people uneasy.
"Yes, I suppose you're right. Most people probably wouldn't be too keen on associating with a killer." Brian responded. "But it's not like we're a couple of psychopaths. We have a reason for what we do. We're trying to help America. We have only done what is necessary."
Suddenly, Brian heard a voice coming through the trees. It was a female, and she seemed to be calling out to someone. Brian held up his hand to get Damien's attention while making as little noise as possible and whispered a command.
"Keep your voice down. Someone's here."
"But it's not like we're a couple of psychopaths. We have a reason for what we do. We're trying to help America. We have only done what is necessary."
Yep, we sure did a great job helping America by murdering that helpless Yumi chick...
Damien was beginning to get sick of having the same intrusive thoughts every time he thought about what happened with Yumi. No matter how many times he told himself that he had only done what the General had ordered him to do, and that if he hadn't of finished her off someone else probably would have instead, he still couldn't help but wonder whether or not he and Brian had done the right thing.
Not that there was anything wrong with feeling bad about this kind of thing. Heck, he'd feel worse if he didn't feel at least a little guilty about what happened to Yumi. But at the same time, he had to keep reminding himself that this was an unusual situation, and that he couldn't let himself get bogged down by the moral standers that people usually held up in civilised society. Killing people in the Program wasn't considered murder, so he shouldn't lump the two together. Murder was a crime, plain and simple, one which the Government did not tolerate in the slightest. In the Program though, it's kill or be killed, and those who didn't see the difference are usually the ones who go first. If you didn't have the balls to do what was necessary, then you may as well just put a gun in your mouth and get it over with.
Still, it'd be nice to not have to kill anyone in the first place. Come to think of it, why do we have to-What the hell was that noise?
His train of thought was suddenly interrupted by the sound of someone calling hello. It was at this point that Damien remembered the fact that they had set up an trap, one which from the sound of things had ensnared it's first... Uh, it's first...
I think the word you're looking for is "Victim"
God damnit...
Shaking the thought off, Damien motioned Brian to lay low as he peaked over the log, making sure to not reveal too much of himself. Sure enough, down by the bag stood a girl, one whom Damien quickly recognised to be Rebecca Long. Admittedly Damien didn't know much about her, other then that she always seemed to be wearing the same blue baseball cap. Otherwise, she was just another face in the crowd.
What was notable about her though was that she had been responsible for the death of Erin Underwood, someone who Damien was a little more familiar with. Not by a significant margin or anything, but from what he did know she was a good and honest American. Perhaps not as patriotic as himself or Brian, but a patriot nevertheless. The thought that a girl like Becky was killing fellow Americans was troubling at best.
Isn't that what we're meant to be doing anyway?
Still, fact was that she was a dangerous threat, one whom Damien had no intention of letting go unscathed. No way he could let a girl who went around killing indiscriminately get away, not if their intention was to kill more fellow patriots. Sure, deep down Damien knew that eventually he would have no choice but to face off against honest Americans, but until then he had to make sure that even if he didn't make it that a fellow patriot would.
At that point, a flock of birds flew above the two boys, prompting Damien to duck his head down in case Becky glanced in their direction. Whilst he was pretty sure she hadn't spotted him, he knew that it would only be a matter of time before she decided to wonder off.
He turned to Brian, leaning over and whispering into his ear to avoid drawing attention. "It's the girl who killed Erin. I'm gonna go down there and try to take her out, you grab one of the spears and keep watch in case things go haywire."
After taking one last peek to make sure Becky wasn't looking, Damien whipped out the ballistics knife and slowly began his decent down the hill, taking care to not reveal himself too soon. Whilst he had no intention of going up close and personal unless he really had to, at the same time he had no idea as to what the range of this weapon was. He imagined that he still had to be fairly close anyway for it to be of any effect, although given that he had the high ground he would at least have gravity on his side. Then there was the fact that he had no idea how accurate this thing was, or whether or not he would be able to aim it correctly. If it was a paint-gun, or hell any gun for that matter, hitting her would be no problem. But with just a ballistics knife, he wanted to be as close as he could get away with before opening fire.
And if he was to miss, well... Chances are he could probably outrun this girl easily.
Let's hope it doesn't come to that...
Once he was halfway down the hill, Damien decided that he was close enough to make the shot, raising his arm and steadying himself so that he would actually be able to hit her. At this distance, he was pretty sure that he should be able to hit her without too much trouble, assuming that his aim wasn't terrible. Which, given that he'd never tried to use a ballistics knife before, wasn't too unlikely a prospect.
Hmm, maybe I should have practiced using this in advance. Oh well, not much I can do about it now.
So, without further ado, Damien pressed the trigger and opened fire on Becky.
Yep, we sure did a great job helping America by murdering that helpless Yumi chick...
Damien was beginning to get sick of having the same intrusive thoughts every time he thought about what happened with Yumi. No matter how many times he told himself that he had only done what the General had ordered him to do, and that if he hadn't of finished her off someone else probably would have instead, he still couldn't help but wonder whether or not he and Brian had done the right thing.
Not that there was anything wrong with feeling bad about this kind of thing. Heck, he'd feel worse if he didn't feel at least a little guilty about what happened to Yumi. But at the same time, he had to keep reminding himself that this was an unusual situation, and that he couldn't let himself get bogged down by the moral standers that people usually held up in civilised society. Killing people in the Program wasn't considered murder, so he shouldn't lump the two together. Murder was a crime, plain and simple, one which the Government did not tolerate in the slightest. In the Program though, it's kill or be killed, and those who didn't see the difference are usually the ones who go first. If you didn't have the balls to do what was necessary, then you may as well just put a gun in your mouth and get it over with.
Still, it'd be nice to not have to kill anyone in the first place. Come to think of it, why do we have to-What the hell was that noise?
His train of thought was suddenly interrupted by the sound of someone calling hello. It was at this point that Damien remembered the fact that they had set up an trap, one which from the sound of things had ensnared it's first... Uh, it's first...
I think the word you're looking for is "Victim"
God damnit...
Shaking the thought off, Damien motioned Brian to lay low as he peaked over the log, making sure to not reveal too much of himself. Sure enough, down by the bag stood a girl, one whom Damien quickly recognised to be Rebecca Long. Admittedly Damien didn't know much about her, other then that she always seemed to be wearing the same blue baseball cap. Otherwise, she was just another face in the crowd.
What was notable about her though was that she had been responsible for the death of Erin Underwood, someone who Damien was a little more familiar with. Not by a significant margin or anything, but from what he did know she was a good and honest American. Perhaps not as patriotic as himself or Brian, but a patriot nevertheless. The thought that a girl like Becky was killing fellow Americans was troubling at best.
Isn't that what we're meant to be doing anyway?
Still, fact was that she was a dangerous threat, one whom Damien had no intention of letting go unscathed. No way he could let a girl who went around killing indiscriminately get away, not if their intention was to kill more fellow patriots. Sure, deep down Damien knew that eventually he would have no choice but to face off against honest Americans, but until then he had to make sure that even if he didn't make it that a fellow patriot would.
At that point, a flock of birds flew above the two boys, prompting Damien to duck his head down in case Becky glanced in their direction. Whilst he was pretty sure she hadn't spotted him, he knew that it would only be a matter of time before she decided to wonder off.
He turned to Brian, leaning over and whispering into his ear to avoid drawing attention. "It's the girl who killed Erin. I'm gonna go down there and try to take her out, you grab one of the spears and keep watch in case things go haywire."
After taking one last peek to make sure Becky wasn't looking, Damien whipped out the ballistics knife and slowly began his decent down the hill, taking care to not reveal himself too soon. Whilst he had no intention of going up close and personal unless he really had to, at the same time he had no idea as to what the range of this weapon was. He imagined that he still had to be fairly close anyway for it to be of any effect, although given that he had the high ground he would at least have gravity on his side. Then there was the fact that he had no idea how accurate this thing was, or whether or not he would be able to aim it correctly. If it was a paint-gun, or hell any gun for that matter, hitting her would be no problem. But with just a ballistics knife, he wanted to be as close as he could get away with before opening fire.
And if he was to miss, well... Chances are he could probably outrun this girl easily.
Let's hope it doesn't come to that...
Once he was halfway down the hill, Damien decided that he was close enough to make the shot, raising his arm and steadying himself so that he would actually be able to hit her. At this distance, he was pretty sure that he should be able to hit her without too much trouble, assuming that his aim wasn't terrible. Which, given that he'd never tried to use a ballistics knife before, wasn't too unlikely a prospect.
Hmm, maybe I should have practiced using this in advance. Oh well, not much I can do about it now.
So, without further ado, Damien pressed the trigger and opened fire on Becky.
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
Becky finished rooting through the bag just in time for Damien to get within striking distance. With a defeated shrug, she took one last look for the owner of the day-pack, finally spotting him just as he fired his ballistic knife straight at her.
Before she could even realise what had happened, the knife had buried itself deep into her body, searing itself in like a white hot iron. When she looked down at it, she could only scream. It was a scream brought on much more by shock than any pain: the only thing she could feel was a deep sensation in her thigh, where the knife stuck out like her leg was a hunk of meat on the dinner table. She screamed harder than she'd ever screamed before in her whole life.
She couldn't do anything else; she was paralyzed. Before that moment, even in the last twenty four hours she’d spent in a giant game of death, nothing had been so severe. She’d been scared by things, she’d been angered by people, she’d been confused by her own feelings, but never in all of her days had she been stabbed. Nothing in her life could be any worse than the fact that she had a knife buried up to its hilt in her leg at that exact moment.
Save, perhaps, the fact that the guy who’d put it there was still stood before her.
“Get away from me!” she screamed at Damien, stepping back without a thought for the state of her leg. With cruel speed, the pain in her leg flared up as her honed muscles contorted around the blade, shredding her years of exercise and discipline like it was nothing. It was too much to support; she stumbled over her leg almost instantly, landing on her day-pack right in front of Damien.
She was helpless.
Before she could even realise what had happened, the knife had buried itself deep into her body, searing itself in like a white hot iron. When she looked down at it, she could only scream. It was a scream brought on much more by shock than any pain: the only thing she could feel was a deep sensation in her thigh, where the knife stuck out like her leg was a hunk of meat on the dinner table. She screamed harder than she'd ever screamed before in her whole life.
She couldn't do anything else; she was paralyzed. Before that moment, even in the last twenty four hours she’d spent in a giant game of death, nothing had been so severe. She’d been scared by things, she’d been angered by people, she’d been confused by her own feelings, but never in all of her days had she been stabbed. Nothing in her life could be any worse than the fact that she had a knife buried up to its hilt in her leg at that exact moment.
Save, perhaps, the fact that the guy who’d put it there was still stood before her.
“Get away from me!” she screamed at Damien, stepping back without a thought for the state of her leg. With cruel speed, the pain in her leg flared up as her honed muscles contorted around the blade, shredding her years of exercise and discipline like it was nothing. It was too much to support; she stumbled over her leg almost instantly, landing on her day-pack right in front of Damien.
She was helpless.
Damien made a gesture telling Brian to lay low, and Brian complied. Someone had stumbled across their trap. Brian wondered who it could possibly be. He and Damien were well-hidden, they had the high ground, and, if their target was alone, they had a two-on-one advantage. Everything was falling perfectly into place. The only remaining unknown was the identity of the intruder in question.
"It's the girl who killed Erin. I'm gonna go down there and try to take her out, you grab one of the spears and keep watch in case things go haywire."
The girl who killed Erin Underwood? That was Becky Long! Strange, seeing as Brian had always though the both of them to be relatively decent patriots. One of them must have gone mad in order for Becky to kill Erin. A sad situation, to be sure.
Brian grabbed the thickest spear within arm's reach. It didn't look like the sturdiest weapon he could hope for, but it should hold up well enough for at least one fight, whenever one may occur. He watched as Damien carefully made his way down the hill. He was surprised by how stealthy Damien was for a fellow his size. He also caught sight of Becky looking through Caleb's bag, completely in Damien's sights.
Once Becky put down the bag, Damien shot the knife at her. Brian heard her piercing scream and saw her fall to the ground. He grabbed Damien's pitchfork and walked over to the scene. When he got to Damien he held out the pitchfork. "Here. You forgot this." He handed the pitchfork to Damien. "If you don't mind, there's something I'd like to do."
He turned his attention towards Becky. She had screamed for Damien to get away from her, but Brian wasn't going to back down easily. He had questions to ask, and he wanted answers. She had killed a fellow American, and Brian was determined to find out why. He called out to her in an authoritative voice.
"You're Becky Long, right?" He looked at her with a disdainful expression. He held the spear in his hand, to show that he was not going to tolerate any funny business. "Can you tell me why you killed Erin Underwood?"
"It's the girl who killed Erin. I'm gonna go down there and try to take her out, you grab one of the spears and keep watch in case things go haywire."
The girl who killed Erin Underwood? That was Becky Long! Strange, seeing as Brian had always though the both of them to be relatively decent patriots. One of them must have gone mad in order for Becky to kill Erin. A sad situation, to be sure.
Brian grabbed the thickest spear within arm's reach. It didn't look like the sturdiest weapon he could hope for, but it should hold up well enough for at least one fight, whenever one may occur. He watched as Damien carefully made his way down the hill. He was surprised by how stealthy Damien was for a fellow his size. He also caught sight of Becky looking through Caleb's bag, completely in Damien's sights.
Once Becky put down the bag, Damien shot the knife at her. Brian heard her piercing scream and saw her fall to the ground. He grabbed Damien's pitchfork and walked over to the scene. When he got to Damien he held out the pitchfork. "Here. You forgot this." He handed the pitchfork to Damien. "If you don't mind, there's something I'd like to do."
He turned his attention towards Becky. She had screamed for Damien to get away from her, but Brian wasn't going to back down easily. He had questions to ask, and he wanted answers. She had killed a fellow American, and Brian was determined to find out why. He called out to her in an authoritative voice.
"You're Becky Long, right?" He looked at her with a disdainful expression. He held the spear in his hand, to show that he was not going to tolerate any funny business. "Can you tell me why you killed Erin Underwood?"
Well on the bright side, he hadn't missed, which considering the fact that he'd never used a ballistics knife before was a respectable feat all by itself. Unfortunately though, he had also failed to hit any of her vitals, or inflict any kind of potentially fatal wound for that matter. Sure, he'd injured her, but she didn't look as though she would be bleeding out any time soon.
And to make matters worse, she began to scream.
Damien wasn't entirely sure why he found Becky's scream so particularly agonising to listen to. Perhaps it was because it was a scream of pain as well as fear. Perhaps it was because he had been the one who had caused this pain. Or maybe it was just because her scream was also excruciatingly loud, and he was only standing a dozen or so yards away. Probably a mixture of all three.
Either way, fact remained that he wanted her to stop. Like, right now. For the briefest fraction of a second, Damien almost considered apologising for having caused her such pain, before quickly remembering that he was meant to be killing her not befriending her. Not that the sight of her helplessly trying to get away with him with an injured leg was any less horrifying. Whilst Damien suspected that some sick fucks would probably get aroused by such a sight, for him this whole situation just felt wrong on so many levels. Here he was, towering above some hapless injured girl whom he intended to momentarily finish off. Christ, he was beginning to feel more like a slasher movie villain than an American hero...
Hey, what the hell did I say about those kind of thoughts? Get with the fuckin' picture, man! Can't show any signs of weakness, otherwise she's gonna think you don't have the guts to finish the job. She's a killer too, remember? She'd waste you without a second thought if she had the chance...
Damien glanced back at Brian, extending his arm as he noticed his companion returned his pitchfork. Honestly, Damien had hoped he wouldn't have to use the infernal thing again. Despite his attempts at cleaning it, the three points still had distinctive red stains on them, forever reminding him of what he had done to Yumi. Seeing as Becky was still alive, not to mention potentially dangerous, as much as he didn't want to it looked as though he would have to make good use of it again.
That is, until Brian stopped him. Damien couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when his ally told him that there was 'something' he'd like to do. What exactly? Did Damien even want to know? He didn't want to drag this out like with Yumi, did he? Damien felt bad enough having injured her in the first place without then letting Brian loose on her to do god knows what. Then again, it'd be a little relieving to not be the one who inflicts the killing blow this time, though admittedly he would prefer to just get it over and done with.
After thinking about it for a second, Damien simply shrugged and replied with "Make it quick. If she's still alive three minutes from now, I'm finishing her off myself."
With that, he turned away in order to pay attention to their surroundings, keeping an eye out in case she had anyone following her. All the while he listened to Brian's little conversation, thankful that he wasn't doing what he thought he was going to do, not that it stopped him from feeling as though Brian was just wasting their time.
Who the hell cares why she did it, just put the bitch out of her misery already!
And to make matters worse, she began to scream.
Damien wasn't entirely sure why he found Becky's scream so particularly agonising to listen to. Perhaps it was because it was a scream of pain as well as fear. Perhaps it was because he had been the one who had caused this pain. Or maybe it was just because her scream was also excruciatingly loud, and he was only standing a dozen or so yards away. Probably a mixture of all three.
Either way, fact remained that he wanted her to stop. Like, right now. For the briefest fraction of a second, Damien almost considered apologising for having caused her such pain, before quickly remembering that he was meant to be killing her not befriending her. Not that the sight of her helplessly trying to get away with him with an injured leg was any less horrifying. Whilst Damien suspected that some sick fucks would probably get aroused by such a sight, for him this whole situation just felt wrong on so many levels. Here he was, towering above some hapless injured girl whom he intended to momentarily finish off. Christ, he was beginning to feel more like a slasher movie villain than an American hero...
Hey, what the hell did I say about those kind of thoughts? Get with the fuckin' picture, man! Can't show any signs of weakness, otherwise she's gonna think you don't have the guts to finish the job. She's a killer too, remember? She'd waste you without a second thought if she had the chance...
Damien glanced back at Brian, extending his arm as he noticed his companion returned his pitchfork. Honestly, Damien had hoped he wouldn't have to use the infernal thing again. Despite his attempts at cleaning it, the three points still had distinctive red stains on them, forever reminding him of what he had done to Yumi. Seeing as Becky was still alive, not to mention potentially dangerous, as much as he didn't want to it looked as though he would have to make good use of it again.
That is, until Brian stopped him. Damien couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when his ally told him that there was 'something' he'd like to do. What exactly? Did Damien even want to know? He didn't want to drag this out like with Yumi, did he? Damien felt bad enough having injured her in the first place without then letting Brian loose on her to do god knows what. Then again, it'd be a little relieving to not be the one who inflicts the killing blow this time, though admittedly he would prefer to just get it over and done with.
After thinking about it for a second, Damien simply shrugged and replied with "Make it quick. If she's still alive three minutes from now, I'm finishing her off myself."
With that, he turned away in order to pay attention to their surroundings, keeping an eye out in case she had anyone following her. All the while he listened to Brian's little conversation, thankful that he wasn't doing what he thought he was going to do, not that it stopped him from feeling as though Brian was just wasting their time.
Who the hell cares why she did it, just put the bitch out of her misery already!
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
Every ounce of her body felt tight, tensed to the breaking point as the situation weighed down on her, like it would snap her in two if anything so much as moved. She wasn’t screaming anymore, choking on the air as her teeth clenched into each other, the knife still slicing into the muscles in her leg, ruining the limb more and more. Damien was just standing there too, looking down on her with an indecipherable expression, but that was irrelevant. Everything in the world was both irrelevant compared to the blinding shock, but simultaneously as important as it all began to hinge on that exact moment.
She wanted to say something to Damien, scream at him, curse at him, treat him as the monster he was, but she couldn't. After Caleb, Damien had always been her backup crush. Buff, good looking, kind of a jerk, but what did that matter to a crush? Now he was standing over her, after having stabbed her in the leg. What was she even supposed to say?
Brian’s approach did nothing to help. She could tell just by looking at him, as she held her crippled leg, that he wasn’t there to save her. He was too calm, even as he walked down the slope, to be on her side. He wasn’t looking at Damien either, he was looking at her. You didn’t just ignore the guy who’d stabbed someone in the leg if you were there to help. Handing Damien the pitchfork just settled the point in her mind.
It didn’t do anything to settle her, of course.
Her instinct said to get back again, just to run for it and flee, but something was finally overwhelming the instincts that had been driving her for the entire game. Terror was starting to change into raw unbridled hate, even before Brian asked his sick question. She hadn’t done anything to these two ever in her entire life, but now they just were treating her like she was nothing, like something they could destroy and it wouldn’t mean a thing. It was the same way it had been with Shawn, Louisa, Erin, and especially Maxim.
She’d had enough.
She wasn’t just some expendable shit in this stupid retarded thing that the government put on. She was Becky Long, the girl who wasn’t going to die for no good reason.
“Fuck. You.” She growled. Her voice was barely above a whisper, just a visceral growl that emanated from her throat. “Erin was an accident, you hear me Brian, you fucking jerk? She had a fucking gun, and I just defended myself, and how was I supposed to know she’d stick into a fucking tree branch huh!? Fuck you, fuck Damien, and fuck this stupid entire piece of shit! It was a fucking accident!”
She could still see the spear in Brian’s hand, its intended purpose no mystery as he gripped it tight. He’d use it on her the second he got bored, she just knew it. She remembered what had happened to Yumi, how it had been Damien and Brian who’d done it, and it was obvious that it was going to happen to her too. So fine, if that was how they wanted to play, then she’d play just as hard.
She gripped her hand around the hilt of the knife, still stuck into her leg like so much stake in the ground. She pulled, screaming even harder than before as the blade ripped through her leg again on its way out, cascading a crimson torrent.
She stared into Brian’s eyes, blood running down her leg and into the ground. The knife before her eyes was ready, hungry for more flesh, the hand holding it all too ready to make use of it.
If this was how it was going to be, then so be it.
She wanted to say something to Damien, scream at him, curse at him, treat him as the monster he was, but she couldn't. After Caleb, Damien had always been her backup crush. Buff, good looking, kind of a jerk, but what did that matter to a crush? Now he was standing over her, after having stabbed her in the leg. What was she even supposed to say?
Brian’s approach did nothing to help. She could tell just by looking at him, as she held her crippled leg, that he wasn’t there to save her. He was too calm, even as he walked down the slope, to be on her side. He wasn’t looking at Damien either, he was looking at her. You didn’t just ignore the guy who’d stabbed someone in the leg if you were there to help. Handing Damien the pitchfork just settled the point in her mind.
It didn’t do anything to settle her, of course.
Her instinct said to get back again, just to run for it and flee, but something was finally overwhelming the instincts that had been driving her for the entire game. Terror was starting to change into raw unbridled hate, even before Brian asked his sick question. She hadn’t done anything to these two ever in her entire life, but now they just were treating her like she was nothing, like something they could destroy and it wouldn’t mean a thing. It was the same way it had been with Shawn, Louisa, Erin, and especially Maxim.
She’d had enough.
She wasn’t just some expendable shit in this stupid retarded thing that the government put on. She was Becky Long, the girl who wasn’t going to die for no good reason.
“Fuck. You.” She growled. Her voice was barely above a whisper, just a visceral growl that emanated from her throat. “Erin was an accident, you hear me Brian, you fucking jerk? She had a fucking gun, and I just defended myself, and how was I supposed to know she’d stick into a fucking tree branch huh!? Fuck you, fuck Damien, and fuck this stupid entire piece of shit! It was a fucking accident!”
She could still see the spear in Brian’s hand, its intended purpose no mystery as he gripped it tight. He’d use it on her the second he got bored, she just knew it. She remembered what had happened to Yumi, how it had been Damien and Brian who’d done it, and it was obvious that it was going to happen to her too. So fine, if that was how they wanted to play, then she’d play just as hard.
She gripped her hand around the hilt of the knife, still stuck into her leg like so much stake in the ground. She pulled, screaming even harder than before as the blade ripped through her leg again on its way out, cascading a crimson torrent.
She stared into Brian’s eyes, blood running down her leg and into the ground. The knife before her eyes was ready, hungry for more flesh, the hand holding it all too ready to make use of it.
If this was how it was going to be, then so be it.
"Make it quick. If she's still alive three minutes from now, I'm finishing her off myself."
Once Damien stepped aside, it was just between Brian and Becky. If he wanted to, he could have killed her right then and there. She was unarmed and had a knife in her leg, while he was uninjured and holding a spear. He had an unfair advantage, really. Despite that, however, he was willing to be a gentleman and let her answer his question. It was his and Damien's trap that she fell into, so they could at least grant her that.
“Fuck. You. Erin was an accident, you hear me Brian, you fucking jerk? She had a fucking gun, and I just defended myself, and how was I supposed to know she’d stick into a fucking tree branch huh!? Fuck you, fuck Damien, and fuck this stupid entire piece of shit! It was a fucking accident!”
Well that was rude...
Becky had claimed that her killing of Erin had been an accident. That explanation actually had some merit to it, seeing as it would presumably be quite difficult to deliberately engineer a situation that would allow one to kick someone through a tree branch. However, Becky's tone, in adition to her quite rude choice of words, didn't make Brian very sympathetic. Rather, her attitude just irritated him.
The situation became more intense when Becky began to pull the knife out of her leg, screaming bloody murder all the while. This development genuinely shocked Brian, and this time his calm facade could not hide it. The girl he had only moments ago thought was incapacitated was now staring at him and wielding a bloody knife. That sort of thing would shake up anybody. Brian took a deep breath and a moment to compose himself before responding to Becky's earlier statement.
"So you killed Erin by accident?" He said, backing away a couple steps as so to stay safely out of knife range. "Well, I can believe that. After all, accidents happen. You accidentally kicked Erin through a tree, and Damien accidentally shot a knife into your leg. You see, we all have accidents sometimes." He grinned slyly as he continued. "Honestly, I'm glad you aren't a cold-blooded murderer, because if you were, then I would have had to kill you." He pointed at her with his spear, as though to drive home a point. "But since you aren't, then I guess that unless you have any further questions for me or my friend, then we're done here."
Brian wanted to give Becky a fair shot, just like a good politician would, so he was giving her the right to live. As long as she didn't cause him or Damien any trouble, then he would let her go on her way. The only remaining question was whether or not she would continue to cause problems with her rotten temper.
Once Damien stepped aside, it was just between Brian and Becky. If he wanted to, he could have killed her right then and there. She was unarmed and had a knife in her leg, while he was uninjured and holding a spear. He had an unfair advantage, really. Despite that, however, he was willing to be a gentleman and let her answer his question. It was his and Damien's trap that she fell into, so they could at least grant her that.
“Fuck. You. Erin was an accident, you hear me Brian, you fucking jerk? She had a fucking gun, and I just defended myself, and how was I supposed to know she’d stick into a fucking tree branch huh!? Fuck you, fuck Damien, and fuck this stupid entire piece of shit! It was a fucking accident!”
Well that was rude...
Becky had claimed that her killing of Erin had been an accident. That explanation actually had some merit to it, seeing as it would presumably be quite difficult to deliberately engineer a situation that would allow one to kick someone through a tree branch. However, Becky's tone, in adition to her quite rude choice of words, didn't make Brian very sympathetic. Rather, her attitude just irritated him.
The situation became more intense when Becky began to pull the knife out of her leg, screaming bloody murder all the while. This development genuinely shocked Brian, and this time his calm facade could not hide it. The girl he had only moments ago thought was incapacitated was now staring at him and wielding a bloody knife. That sort of thing would shake up anybody. Brian took a deep breath and a moment to compose himself before responding to Becky's earlier statement.
"So you killed Erin by accident?" He said, backing away a couple steps as so to stay safely out of knife range. "Well, I can believe that. After all, accidents happen. You accidentally kicked Erin through a tree, and Damien accidentally shot a knife into your leg. You see, we all have accidents sometimes." He grinned slyly as he continued. "Honestly, I'm glad you aren't a cold-blooded murderer, because if you were, then I would have had to kill you." He pointed at her with his spear, as though to drive home a point. "But since you aren't, then I guess that unless you have any further questions for me or my friend, then we're done here."
Brian wanted to give Becky a fair shot, just like a good politician would, so he was giving her the right to live. As long as she didn't cause him or Damien any trouble, then he would let her go on her way. The only remaining question was whether or not she would continue to cause problems with her rotten temper.
Whilst Brian and Becky had their little conversation, Damien waited impatiently for his talkative ally to quit messing around and get the job done, occasionally glancing at his watch to keep track of how much time had passed. After all, he said that he'd wait no longer than three minutes, and he was damn well going to keep on schedule.
In the meantime, his thoughts began to drift elsewhere as he spotted one of the cameras observing them from an overlooking pine tree. Whilst this was far from the first time that he was reminded that they were being watched at all times by Adams and his staff, it was the first time that he started to wonder what his parents must be thinking back home. This was all being aired on TV after all. Christ, does this mean that his family had to watch him kill that Yumi girl? Oh god, they would have wouldn't they? Sure, his mother probably would have approved, seeing as she was literally working for the government and all. But his father? This was exactly the kind of shit he despised. Admittedly, the two of them never really got on in the first place, but his dad still loved him. After everything that had happend though, he'd be more surprised if his father didn't completely disown him. Which, considering how shaky their relationship was already, was a thought that bothered him way more than he assumed it would.
Of course, this was assuming that he'd see either of his parents again in the first place, given how nobody knew what happens to the winners. He'd heard some people suggest that they had the winner executed anyway, a theory that Damien personally thought was a load of bull. What the hell would be the point in having them go through all this crap just to kill the winner in the end anyway? Sure, it explained why nobody ever sees the winners again, but surely they had some purpose for the winners?
Personally, Damien suspected that the winners were enlisted in some kind of secret special forces. Like the NAVY Seals, only twice as hardcore, seeing as you had to survive an intense kill-or-be-killed scenario as part of the initiation process. Sure, there were probably better ways to enlist badass marines, but other then that Damien couldn't think of any other uses for battle-hardened high school students.
In any case, Brian's three minutes were nearly up, which meant that Damien had to finish the job himself. Again. Christ, he was beginning to wonder why he had decided to work with Brian in the first place, given how Becky would be dead by now had Brian not decided to play twenty questions with her.
However, just as Damien was about to tell him that his time was up, Brian more-or-less told Becky that he was going to spare her.
What.
No way. After all this, Brian was going to just let her go? Why? Because she claimed that it was an accident? Bullshit! Accident or not, she was an obvious threat! Letting her go was out of the fucking question!
Admittedly, deep down a part of Damien wanted to stay quiet and let Becky be on her way. After all, he wasn't exactly looking forward to killing yet another one of his fellow classmates so soon after he had finished off Yumi, plus that nasty leg wound he had given her was pretty much a death sentence anyway. She'd be lucky to survive to see the next sunrise, let alone have any chance at actually getting out of this valley alive.
But, god damnit, this just didn't feel right. She was the enemy! You don't just let your foes wander off after unless you have a damn good reason! Besides, given how grievous her injury was, it'd be way more merciful of them to deliver a quick death here and now rather than let her go off and die from a horrific infection or something.
With this in mind, Damien turned around and grabbed Brian by the shoulder, leaning over and whispering loudly into his ear.
"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing? We can't let her go scott free! What's to stop her from following us and slitting our throats whilst we sleep?"
In the meantime, his thoughts began to drift elsewhere as he spotted one of the cameras observing them from an overlooking pine tree. Whilst this was far from the first time that he was reminded that they were being watched at all times by Adams and his staff, it was the first time that he started to wonder what his parents must be thinking back home. This was all being aired on TV after all. Christ, does this mean that his family had to watch him kill that Yumi girl? Oh god, they would have wouldn't they? Sure, his mother probably would have approved, seeing as she was literally working for the government and all. But his father? This was exactly the kind of shit he despised. Admittedly, the two of them never really got on in the first place, but his dad still loved him. After everything that had happend though, he'd be more surprised if his father didn't completely disown him. Which, considering how shaky their relationship was already, was a thought that bothered him way more than he assumed it would.
Of course, this was assuming that he'd see either of his parents again in the first place, given how nobody knew what happens to the winners. He'd heard some people suggest that they had the winner executed anyway, a theory that Damien personally thought was a load of bull. What the hell would be the point in having them go through all this crap just to kill the winner in the end anyway? Sure, it explained why nobody ever sees the winners again, but surely they had some purpose for the winners?
Personally, Damien suspected that the winners were enlisted in some kind of secret special forces. Like the NAVY Seals, only twice as hardcore, seeing as you had to survive an intense kill-or-be-killed scenario as part of the initiation process. Sure, there were probably better ways to enlist badass marines, but other then that Damien couldn't think of any other uses for battle-hardened high school students.
In any case, Brian's three minutes were nearly up, which meant that Damien had to finish the job himself. Again. Christ, he was beginning to wonder why he had decided to work with Brian in the first place, given how Becky would be dead by now had Brian not decided to play twenty questions with her.
However, just as Damien was about to tell him that his time was up, Brian more-or-less told Becky that he was going to spare her.
What.
No way. After all this, Brian was going to just let her go? Why? Because she claimed that it was an accident? Bullshit! Accident or not, she was an obvious threat! Letting her go was out of the fucking question!
Admittedly, deep down a part of Damien wanted to stay quiet and let Becky be on her way. After all, he wasn't exactly looking forward to killing yet another one of his fellow classmates so soon after he had finished off Yumi, plus that nasty leg wound he had given her was pretty much a death sentence anyway. She'd be lucky to survive to see the next sunrise, let alone have any chance at actually getting out of this valley alive.
But, god damnit, this just didn't feel right. She was the enemy! You don't just let your foes wander off after unless you have a damn good reason! Besides, given how grievous her injury was, it'd be way more merciful of them to deliver a quick death here and now rather than let her go off and die from a horrific infection or something.
With this in mind, Damien turned around and grabbed Brian by the shoulder, leaning over and whispering loudly into his ear.
"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing? We can't let her go scott free! What's to stop her from following us and slitting our throats whilst we sleep?"
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
As much as hate and adrenaline was driving Becky, it was no match for something else entirely. That rage that had been driving her killing intent, ready to slice up Brian, was being smothered by the wave of fatigue and dizziness that hit her like a brick.
Pulling out the knife had seemed like a really great idea at the time.
She was trying to concentrate on what Brian said, not out of respect or politeness, but just because he was still holding a freaking spear at her and all she had was a knife drenched in her own leg blood to defend herself with. It was no use though: the words merely bounced off her ears, only the vaguest meanings sinking in, as her head swam in circles.
She couldn’t pass out, not with Brian and Damien just standing there. She’d never passed out before, even after taking that bad spill off her bike when she was fourteen, the one that broke her ankle and she had to use crutches for what felt like forever, but she still knew that passing out was what she was going to do, regardless. A trail of blood was still running down her legs, staining her once cream cargo trousers an ugly red. The hand on her knife was loosening, trembling, everything that stopped her putting up a convincing tough front.
But if she passed out now, it really would be game over.
She needed to put some distance between them, get away from them both and have a chance to patch up her leg. She’d seen the med kit in her bag, and she’d earned her first aid badge in the scouts. It was barely by the skin of her teeth, but she’d still earned it. She could stop her leg from bleeding, then not pass out, and do everything she needed to stay alive. She just had to get away from Damien and Brian first.
She wanted to throw the knife at them, maybe even get lucky and cripple their legs too. Then they could see what it felt like, bleeding profusely in the ground whilst you wished that your leg would just stop feeling so ruined. It was a stupid wish though, because even holding the knife up was starting to feel hard.
She didn’t have a better plan though.
Summoning what strength she had on reserve left, whatever wasn’t leaking out of her body through the knife wound, she tossed the knife straight to wherever their voices were coming from. She couldn’t even tell if it had reached the two, much less hurt one of them, but that wasn’t the point. Unarmed, senseless, and completely lost, she turned around and just started crawling, dragging a bloody trail along the ground with her.
She could see the trees in the distance. If she could just make it, then maybe she wouldn’t die. Maybe she could still go home, see her brother and mom and dad, get her black belt at long last, just do everything she wanted to that wouldn’t make her die. She just had to make it there and she'd be fine, she just knew it.
Pulling out the knife had seemed like a really great idea at the time.
She was trying to concentrate on what Brian said, not out of respect or politeness, but just because he was still holding a freaking spear at her and all she had was a knife drenched in her own leg blood to defend herself with. It was no use though: the words merely bounced off her ears, only the vaguest meanings sinking in, as her head swam in circles.
She couldn’t pass out, not with Brian and Damien just standing there. She’d never passed out before, even after taking that bad spill off her bike when she was fourteen, the one that broke her ankle and she had to use crutches for what felt like forever, but she still knew that passing out was what she was going to do, regardless. A trail of blood was still running down her legs, staining her once cream cargo trousers an ugly red. The hand on her knife was loosening, trembling, everything that stopped her putting up a convincing tough front.
But if she passed out now, it really would be game over.
She needed to put some distance between them, get away from them both and have a chance to patch up her leg. She’d seen the med kit in her bag, and she’d earned her first aid badge in the scouts. It was barely by the skin of her teeth, but she’d still earned it. She could stop her leg from bleeding, then not pass out, and do everything she needed to stay alive. She just had to get away from Damien and Brian first.
She wanted to throw the knife at them, maybe even get lucky and cripple their legs too. Then they could see what it felt like, bleeding profusely in the ground whilst you wished that your leg would just stop feeling so ruined. It was a stupid wish though, because even holding the knife up was starting to feel hard.
She didn’t have a better plan though.
Summoning what strength she had on reserve left, whatever wasn’t leaking out of her body through the knife wound, she tossed the knife straight to wherever their voices were coming from. She couldn’t even tell if it had reached the two, much less hurt one of them, but that wasn’t the point. Unarmed, senseless, and completely lost, she turned around and just started crawling, dragging a bloody trail along the ground with her.
She could see the trees in the distance. If she could just make it, then maybe she wouldn’t die. Maybe she could still go home, see her brother and mom and dad, get her black belt at long last, just do everything she wanted to that wouldn’t make her die. She just had to make it there and she'd be fine, she just knew it.
((GMing of Damien approved by Fioriboy))
Damien pulled Brian aside and scolded him with a harsh whisper behind some foliage, both boys turned away from Becky as they conversed.
"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing? We can't let her go scott free! What's to stop her from following us and slitting our throats whilst we sleep?"
Brian held up one finger as he prepared to give yet another lecture. "Calm down, Damien, we're perfectly safe. She has a bleeding leg wound and is armed only with a small knife. I doubt that she would be able to get a few feet without passing out, much less find us and cut our throats." He lightly chuckled. "Seriously, Damien, you should stop worrying. Everything is perfectly under control." As soon as Brian claimed that everything was under contrrol, a small knife flew through the air, flying between the two boys and coming surprisingly close to Brian's face before hitting the ground. Brian jumped backwards after the knife flew by and looked at it in shock, knowing how close the knife had come to potentially ending his life.
"What the hell?" Damien exclaimed in surprise.
Brian shook his head, trying to regain his composure. "Becky must've thrown it. I guess she is still a threat." Brian looked at the area the knife had flown in from, but saw nothing. Becky had disappeared. "Wait a second, where is she?"
Damien walked over to the knife and pocketed it. "She must've gotten away." He looked at Brian with a frown. "I told you that you should have finished her quickly."
Brian put up his hands. "Okay, okay, I can admit when I've made a mistake. I should have listened to you. But we have more pressing matters at the moment. Namely, finding Becky and making sure that we finish the job this time. Now, in order to cover more ground, I propose that we split up. You go that way," he pointed over Damien's shoulder, "and I'll go this way." He pointed behind himself. "In a few hours, we can meet by the lake. Surely it will not still be a Danger Zone by that point. Is that acceptable?"
Damien thought for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, sounds like a plan."
Brian nodded back. "Fantastic. Now let's get going."
Brian and Damien gathered their belongings and set off in their seperate directions in search of Becky.
((Brian Meyerhold Callison and Damien Stone continued elsewhere...))
Damien pulled Brian aside and scolded him with a harsh whisper behind some foliage, both boys turned away from Becky as they conversed.
"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing? We can't let her go scott free! What's to stop her from following us and slitting our throats whilst we sleep?"
Brian held up one finger as he prepared to give yet another lecture. "Calm down, Damien, we're perfectly safe. She has a bleeding leg wound and is armed only with a small knife. I doubt that she would be able to get a few feet without passing out, much less find us and cut our throats." He lightly chuckled. "Seriously, Damien, you should stop worrying. Everything is perfectly under control." As soon as Brian claimed that everything was under contrrol, a small knife flew through the air, flying between the two boys and coming surprisingly close to Brian's face before hitting the ground. Brian jumped backwards after the knife flew by and looked at it in shock, knowing how close the knife had come to potentially ending his life.
"What the hell?" Damien exclaimed in surprise.
Brian shook his head, trying to regain his composure. "Becky must've thrown it. I guess she is still a threat." Brian looked at the area the knife had flown in from, but saw nothing. Becky had disappeared. "Wait a second, where is she?"
Damien walked over to the knife and pocketed it. "She must've gotten away." He looked at Brian with a frown. "I told you that you should have finished her quickly."
Brian put up his hands. "Okay, okay, I can admit when I've made a mistake. I should have listened to you. But we have more pressing matters at the moment. Namely, finding Becky and making sure that we finish the job this time. Now, in order to cover more ground, I propose that we split up. You go that way," he pointed over Damien's shoulder, "and I'll go this way." He pointed behind himself. "In a few hours, we can meet by the lake. Surely it will not still be a Danger Zone by that point. Is that acceptable?"
Damien thought for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, sounds like a plan."
Brian nodded back. "Fantastic. Now let's get going."
Brian and Damien gathered their belongings and set off in their seperate directions in search of Becky.
((Brian Meyerhold Callison and Damien Stone continued elsewhere...))
11:32
How she’d gone from crawling for her life to lying in a muddy ditch was a blur, as far as Becky could remember. One minute she was heading for the trees, salvation the only thing on her mind, then a sudden drop under her hands and a short roll the next, rolling over the ground and her daypack through debris until she came to a sharp stop.
She was breathing heavily, inhaling dirt with every gasp as her eyes darted around. Damien and Brian could have still been after her, still trying to kill her as far as she knew, and that was enough to paralyze her in place. The only sensation was her chest pushing out and in from the dirt, helpless to stop two guys from finding her and killing her.
But they never came.
12:14
Her leg wasn’t bleeding as badly now, but it was still bleeding. She’d crawled her way out of the dirt a short while ago: she’d heard someone go by, her heart freezing in her chest as they got closer, ready to kill her, but they didn’t find her. She hadn’t wanted to move, but her leg kept reminding her that she wasn’t in any state to do nothing. It had taken her what felt like forever to feel confident enough to leave her hole, but she had to if she wanted to survive.
She found herself propped up against a tree, staring down at her leg. It looked as bad as it felt, maybe worse, as grime and mud caked in with the wound.
She cried.
Just remembering back to when she’d tried to stand on it was enough for her to know that her leg was ruined forever. No more cycling, no more hiking, no more Taekwon-Do. Damien and Brian might as well have stabbed her in the heart right there and then, because everything she loved in her life was over.
She gripped her face in her hands as the tears fell, her leg still throbbing and tingling as the wound festered, as if it was mocking her. She wanted to hate everything right then, just blame it all for everything she caused, especially Damien and Brian and the entire stupid Program, but she couldn’t. All she could do was cry.
She wanted to cry into her dad’s arms, hug her mom and tell her why everything was making her so mad, but of course she couldn’t. Her mother, still hospitalized unbeknownst to her, was who knew how many miles away, and her father was busy trying to understand that his daughter had killed someone. Even her brother, as much of a sibling rivalry they had, would’ve said ‘there there’ and helped her feel better.
But there, she was just in some strange woods with people hunting to kill her. No-one else cared that she was upset, and if they saw her again they would probably just try to murder her. That’s what everyone else had been doing.
The loss of blood was starting to get to her, as she found herself sliding down the tree without warning, her back dragging along the unforgiving bark all the way. She caught herself on her way down, but it was enough to tell her that she was still bleeding too much, that if she didn’t do something soon then it wouldn’t matter anymore anyway.
Holding back the tears the best she could, she reached back for her day pack. She knew that the med kit was in there and that that had to be her first priority right now if she wanted to survive, even if it did feel like everything else in the world was pointless.
She stared at the first aid symbol printed on the box, telling her the empty promise that it would save her. She tightened again as fresh tears came forward, wanting nothing more than to be able to snap the kit in half for lying so horribly. Instead, all she could manage was to collapse into it, pressing it against her head as the tears kept coming.
12:57
It had taken the last of her water to clean her leg, and the bandaging felt so inadequate, but at least it was done. She still felt so light headed, the bandages doing nothing to fill her body back up with the blood she needed, but the tight padding around the wound felt a lot better than nothing.
If nothing else, it stopped her from having to look at it.
With her wound hidden, save for the browning blood stain all the way down her leg, Becky grabbed for the tree behind her. She tried to lift herself up, support herself on her leg, and was instantly scolded by another fall to the ground. She yelped in shock on her way down, blood pulsing out of the wound once again, before landing in the dirt once again. If she had any more tears to shed they would have come, but they would have been tears of frustration.
That time she had broken her ankle had been bad. She remembered having to watch TV for hours on end, trapped in her own house as Taekwon-Do classes went on without her, her friends cycled to school whilst leaving her to carpool with her mom, and she had to sit through the same repeats over and over. The doctors had told her repeatedly that her foot would be fine if she just stayed off it with her crutches, but that hadn’t stopped her from hopping everywhere for weeks on end.
That had been a really crappy time, but at least she had people telling her she’d get better. There, in the Program, there was no such comfort or reassurance.
She pounded the dirt with her fists, but it was a feeble pound. At that point, short on blood and scared for her life, she was too exhausted to resist passing out any more.
16:17
She could see something. It was starting to get dark, or at least cloudier, but she could definitely make something out. Damien or Brian, on their way to kill her? Another squirrel? A speck on the wind?
At that point, she didn’t care. She’d welcome Damien or Brian coming to kill her, anything to put her out of her misery. Just shoot her in the face, let it be done and over with. Then she’d be out of the stupid Program and get to go home again. She smiled as she smelt the cocoa aroma of a hot chocolate her mom would bring her, a treat that had stuck around since childhood days, to help her feel better after a long day at school, help her get over an argument someone had gotten into with her or a class that was too much for her. That was the life she wanted to get back to already.
But for now, she had to pass out again.
19:22
It was the second night in the row she’d had to eat bread for dinner, but that was far from her thoughts. She’d stopped crying, had time to think about what had happened, but her leg was still a lost cause, and all of her hobbies along with it. What was she supposed to do now, just watch other people do Taekwon-Do instead? Of course she could still punch things, but she needed her legs for support. What if she wound up in a wheelchair, even? Nothing would be worse than that, but it might as well have been what was going to happen by then.
It was all Damien’s fault. Brian’s too. Now that she was done crying, she could hate them the way they deserved. To them, it hadn’t meant anything; they hadn’t even had the decency to come and try to finish her off. She’d been asleep in those woods for who knew how long, but they couldn’t even have found her and stopped her having to live with a crippled leg?
She tore off a hunk of bread. It wasn’t snapping a med kit in half, but it was better than nothing.
The punching knife that had been stuck in her bag for the past two days was finally out, sat on her lap to be equipped at a moment’s notice. She’d found it when she finally put the med kit away, and had to punch the dirt again as payment: it just reminded her that she couldn’t kick everyone’s ass anymore as she held it in her hands then looked back down at the discoloured bandages around her leg. She thought that she was supposed to change them at some point, but it had only been a few hours at most, it couldn’t be necessary already.
Dinner finished, Becky slumped back and stared at the dark night sky through the pine trees. She’d been sat there for hours, and she supposed she could sleep there too. She wasn’t tired though, at least not after sleeping the whole day away. She knew she should have been, given her crippled leg and all the crying she’d done, but she just felt numb more than anything. Her face kept dropping as she thought back to the fact that she wasn’t going to get to do anything anymore, but there were no more tears.
She didn’t want to stay there anymore, anyway. It was the little grove where everything had gone wrong, where her life had been ruined forever. Damien and Brian probably were long gone, or if they were still there then they were really bad at finding her, but either way there wasn’t any point staying there.
She grabbed the branch she’d picked up a while ago. It had seemed sturdy and long enough, and the top wasn’t split or jagged, so she could keep it under her arm. She’d walk a bit lop sided with it, but she didn’t want to try walking on her leg again and put herself through that agony.
It was tricky, standing up on one leg, but she managed it with the help of the tree behind her, her punch knife tucked in one pocket whilst her map sat in the other, next to the compass. She looked down at the day pack beneath her: trying to carry it with her would make life much harder, and all it had was some food and the med kit. She couldn’t bring those without it, but she wasn’t even sure if she could walk with it over her shoulder at the point, especially with only one crutch. Even if she came to regret it later, she’d have to leave it behind.
Memories of her broken ankle came back as she took the first step with her crutch, careful not to put any weight on her ruined leg as it dragged along. Back then she’d had two crutches to use, but for now she was stuck with one until she found another stick. At first her parents had been with her, careful to make sure she didn’t fall over on the unfamiliar limb, but of course they still weren’t there. No-one was there to support her, save herself.
It was a struggle to keep going, she wasn’t even sure she had a reason to, but she couldn’t bring herself to just lay down and die. It wasn’t in her nature. It wasn’t who she, Becky Long, was. She was the girl who’d taken out four different attackers, scared two off, and killed someone in the name of saving someone else. She was doing better than any of her other classmates in the whole stupid Program, and she’d just been crippled. Even if she couldn’t do anything when she got back home, she knew that she was going to get there.
All she had to do was keep putting one foot in front of the other.
((Becky Long continued in Almost The Last Of Her Kind))
How she’d gone from crawling for her life to lying in a muddy ditch was a blur, as far as Becky could remember. One minute she was heading for the trees, salvation the only thing on her mind, then a sudden drop under her hands and a short roll the next, rolling over the ground and her daypack through debris until she came to a sharp stop.
She was breathing heavily, inhaling dirt with every gasp as her eyes darted around. Damien and Brian could have still been after her, still trying to kill her as far as she knew, and that was enough to paralyze her in place. The only sensation was her chest pushing out and in from the dirt, helpless to stop two guys from finding her and killing her.
But they never came.
12:14
Her leg wasn’t bleeding as badly now, but it was still bleeding. She’d crawled her way out of the dirt a short while ago: she’d heard someone go by, her heart freezing in her chest as they got closer, ready to kill her, but they didn’t find her. She hadn’t wanted to move, but her leg kept reminding her that she wasn’t in any state to do nothing. It had taken her what felt like forever to feel confident enough to leave her hole, but she had to if she wanted to survive.
She found herself propped up against a tree, staring down at her leg. It looked as bad as it felt, maybe worse, as grime and mud caked in with the wound.
She cried.
Just remembering back to when she’d tried to stand on it was enough for her to know that her leg was ruined forever. No more cycling, no more hiking, no more Taekwon-Do. Damien and Brian might as well have stabbed her in the heart right there and then, because everything she loved in her life was over.
She gripped her face in her hands as the tears fell, her leg still throbbing and tingling as the wound festered, as if it was mocking her. She wanted to hate everything right then, just blame it all for everything she caused, especially Damien and Brian and the entire stupid Program, but she couldn’t. All she could do was cry.
She wanted to cry into her dad’s arms, hug her mom and tell her why everything was making her so mad, but of course she couldn’t. Her mother, still hospitalized unbeknownst to her, was who knew how many miles away, and her father was busy trying to understand that his daughter had killed someone. Even her brother, as much of a sibling rivalry they had, would’ve said ‘there there’ and helped her feel better.
But there, she was just in some strange woods with people hunting to kill her. No-one else cared that she was upset, and if they saw her again they would probably just try to murder her. That’s what everyone else had been doing.
The loss of blood was starting to get to her, as she found herself sliding down the tree without warning, her back dragging along the unforgiving bark all the way. She caught herself on her way down, but it was enough to tell her that she was still bleeding too much, that if she didn’t do something soon then it wouldn’t matter anymore anyway.
Holding back the tears the best she could, she reached back for her day pack. She knew that the med kit was in there and that that had to be her first priority right now if she wanted to survive, even if it did feel like everything else in the world was pointless.
She stared at the first aid symbol printed on the box, telling her the empty promise that it would save her. She tightened again as fresh tears came forward, wanting nothing more than to be able to snap the kit in half for lying so horribly. Instead, all she could manage was to collapse into it, pressing it against her head as the tears kept coming.
12:57
It had taken the last of her water to clean her leg, and the bandaging felt so inadequate, but at least it was done. She still felt so light headed, the bandages doing nothing to fill her body back up with the blood she needed, but the tight padding around the wound felt a lot better than nothing.
If nothing else, it stopped her from having to look at it.
With her wound hidden, save for the browning blood stain all the way down her leg, Becky grabbed for the tree behind her. She tried to lift herself up, support herself on her leg, and was instantly scolded by another fall to the ground. She yelped in shock on her way down, blood pulsing out of the wound once again, before landing in the dirt once again. If she had any more tears to shed they would have come, but they would have been tears of frustration.
That time she had broken her ankle had been bad. She remembered having to watch TV for hours on end, trapped in her own house as Taekwon-Do classes went on without her, her friends cycled to school whilst leaving her to carpool with her mom, and she had to sit through the same repeats over and over. The doctors had told her repeatedly that her foot would be fine if she just stayed off it with her crutches, but that hadn’t stopped her from hopping everywhere for weeks on end.
That had been a really crappy time, but at least she had people telling her she’d get better. There, in the Program, there was no such comfort or reassurance.
She pounded the dirt with her fists, but it was a feeble pound. At that point, short on blood and scared for her life, she was too exhausted to resist passing out any more.
16:17
She could see something. It was starting to get dark, or at least cloudier, but she could definitely make something out. Damien or Brian, on their way to kill her? Another squirrel? A speck on the wind?
At that point, she didn’t care. She’d welcome Damien or Brian coming to kill her, anything to put her out of her misery. Just shoot her in the face, let it be done and over with. Then she’d be out of the stupid Program and get to go home again. She smiled as she smelt the cocoa aroma of a hot chocolate her mom would bring her, a treat that had stuck around since childhood days, to help her feel better after a long day at school, help her get over an argument someone had gotten into with her or a class that was too much for her. That was the life she wanted to get back to already.
But for now, she had to pass out again.
19:22
It was the second night in the row she’d had to eat bread for dinner, but that was far from her thoughts. She’d stopped crying, had time to think about what had happened, but her leg was still a lost cause, and all of her hobbies along with it. What was she supposed to do now, just watch other people do Taekwon-Do instead? Of course she could still punch things, but she needed her legs for support. What if she wound up in a wheelchair, even? Nothing would be worse than that, but it might as well have been what was going to happen by then.
It was all Damien’s fault. Brian’s too. Now that she was done crying, she could hate them the way they deserved. To them, it hadn’t meant anything; they hadn’t even had the decency to come and try to finish her off. She’d been asleep in those woods for who knew how long, but they couldn’t even have found her and stopped her having to live with a crippled leg?
She tore off a hunk of bread. It wasn’t snapping a med kit in half, but it was better than nothing.
The punching knife that had been stuck in her bag for the past two days was finally out, sat on her lap to be equipped at a moment’s notice. She’d found it when she finally put the med kit away, and had to punch the dirt again as payment: it just reminded her that she couldn’t kick everyone’s ass anymore as she held it in her hands then looked back down at the discoloured bandages around her leg. She thought that she was supposed to change them at some point, but it had only been a few hours at most, it couldn’t be necessary already.
Dinner finished, Becky slumped back and stared at the dark night sky through the pine trees. She’d been sat there for hours, and she supposed she could sleep there too. She wasn’t tired though, at least not after sleeping the whole day away. She knew she should have been, given her crippled leg and all the crying she’d done, but she just felt numb more than anything. Her face kept dropping as she thought back to the fact that she wasn’t going to get to do anything anymore, but there were no more tears.
She didn’t want to stay there anymore, anyway. It was the little grove where everything had gone wrong, where her life had been ruined forever. Damien and Brian probably were long gone, or if they were still there then they were really bad at finding her, but either way there wasn’t any point staying there.
She grabbed the branch she’d picked up a while ago. It had seemed sturdy and long enough, and the top wasn’t split or jagged, so she could keep it under her arm. She’d walk a bit lop sided with it, but she didn’t want to try walking on her leg again and put herself through that agony.
It was tricky, standing up on one leg, but she managed it with the help of the tree behind her, her punch knife tucked in one pocket whilst her map sat in the other, next to the compass. She looked down at the day pack beneath her: trying to carry it with her would make life much harder, and all it had was some food and the med kit. She couldn’t bring those without it, but she wasn’t even sure if she could walk with it over her shoulder at the point, especially with only one crutch. Even if she came to regret it later, she’d have to leave it behind.
Memories of her broken ankle came back as she took the first step with her crutch, careful not to put any weight on her ruined leg as it dragged along. Back then she’d had two crutches to use, but for now she was stuck with one until she found another stick. At first her parents had been with her, careful to make sure she didn’t fall over on the unfamiliar limb, but of course they still weren’t there. No-one was there to support her, save herself.
It was a struggle to keep going, she wasn’t even sure she had a reason to, but she couldn’t bring herself to just lay down and die. It wasn’t in her nature. It wasn’t who she, Becky Long, was. She was the girl who’d taken out four different attackers, scared two off, and killed someone in the name of saving someone else. She was doing better than any of her other classmates in the whole stupid Program, and she’d just been crippled. Even if she couldn’t do anything when she got back home, she knew that she was going to get there.
All she had to do was keep putting one foot in front of the other.
((Becky Long continued in Almost The Last Of Her Kind))