It Isn't Enough to Pretend

[Tythanin*]

(( Brendan Arrington continued from Opposite Reflections. ))

How many times would it take before he managed to succeed at something in this godforsaken game? Brendan could still hear the mocking tone in Adams' voice when he rattled on about his list of non-accomplishments. He didn't want or need the reminder, especially after he had managed to lose track of Sophie. Another failure to add to the ever-growing list he was writing in his mind. It wasn't healthy to keep dwelling on the negative, but there were so few positives that he had experienced. It was like being stuck in a closed room with water slowly leaking in. Eventually he was just going to simply drown in it.

He let out a deep sigh as he leaned against the wall of the Barracks, relaxing as he felt the cool, rough stone against his back. His, no, Megan's, no, John's handgun rested more easily in his fingers. After the mistake in the alleyway (and subsequent losing of Sophie's position), he had decided to get at least a little time practicing with the thing. He had ducked into the Administration Building after giving up and set up a makeshift target on the doors. It wasted at least half of the ammunition he had with him, but at least now he had a better understanding on how to actually use the damn thing. Seeing them fire in movies never did seem to confer any real world experience anyway.

Nothing he had seen in movies seemed to help him here, actually. It was odd, how his one motivating influence from the normal world proved to be completely useless when actually put into practice. The heroic one-liners and actions from the movies didn't do anything for him. The movies at home always told you that if you were patriotic and if you always put your best effort into things, God would somehow make the world right. That hadn't happened at all. There was no deus ex machina to help him out of the jams he had found himself in. He didn't even get a good weapon until he had to shoot Megan in the head.

Was that the sacrifice he needed to make? Was this whole thing just one big test from God? One sacrifice after another to shatter and weaken the beliefs until they could be remade and reborn as a true patriot and follower of America? These were the flames of Purgatory and once finished, he would be taken up to the glory of Heaven to enjoy the reward. Was that really the case?

Fat fucking chance.

Brendan let a sardonic grin cross his lips as he let out another breath, shaking those thoughts out of his head. It would take a better man than him to ever figure out the answers to that and as of now, there were no good men left in the compound that he could pose the question to. And in the end, did something like that really matter? He knew what was left in front of him. Pondering and contemplating about his situation and his past wasn't going to help him in the least. There was time for that when he had finished his more immediate goals first.

Number one was to continue surviving. He didn't know about the other three people left on the island, but with the exception of Marilyn, the other two people left alive were douchebags. He wasn't going to let them win this game, no matter how fitting it would be to have shit rise to the top of shit. He still needed to pay Sophie back for Louis and Brett...well, he didn't know much about the boy but considering how much praise Adams heaped on him, he probably wasn't much better. It wouldn't be that hard to pull the trigger and shoot him if it came down on him.

Marilyn, however, was a whole different prospect. He remembered Marilyn from school, of course. Who couldn't? She was the butt of every joke and the target of every racist prank people could think of, including him. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he had also taken part in the fun. That's just how it was back at home. But here, things were different. She only had one kill. Same as him, although he didn't know the circumstances behind Marilyn's kill.

That was enough, though. He hoped he could find her. Maybe they could even partner up. Two people are better than one. And maybe, this time he'd even be able to keep her safe. He would help protect her from the wolves if she wanted it and in the end, if it was just the two of them...well, he didn't know what would happen next. He never knew what would happen next. He would cross that bridge when he came to it.

What mattered was to do the good thing. The right thing. The heroic thing.

And that thing was sticking a giant middle finger to Adams, the Program, and especially to the people who were willing to play this game.