No Backward Glances

[Brackie]

((Oliver Davies continued from Cake by the Ocean))

Oliver's eyes shot open when he realized they were closed, and the first thing he saw was the sand. He pushed himself up, and the next thing he felt was the net.

His brow furrowed, trying to recall exactly how he'd ended up in this position, when suddenly a few snippets flew past and suddenly he remembered he'd been telling himself ever since Anvi bashed his head against that wall that he wasn't supposed to fall asleep or unconscious, or according to all the media he'd been watching since birth something terrible would happen. And yet...here he was. He was still on the beach, still alive, having been out for who even knew how long, the only part of him worse for wear being the fact he still had a massive headache but now felt incredibly thirsty. And also he was under a net for some reason. He pushed the net aside, untangling it from himself, before grabbing the bottle of water sitting on the sand next to him and gulping it down like his gag reflex went out for spliffs. Within seconds the bottle was empty, and Oliver didn't feel any better but he did feel suspiciously less like an empty petrol tank.

The rest was coming back to him now - right, there were other people there; Tiny yelled at him, Rajni shot him with the net gun, and he couldn't remember Galahad doing anything. But he distinctly remembered asking for help and then getting shot for it.

Oh, so that was how it was going to be, huh? He hadn't done anything to them, he was throwing up on the beach, yet suddenly he was such a huge threat that needed to be taken care of? And even more was coming back to him now, didn't Tiny kill someone as well? What gave him the bloody moral highground to be such a raging cunt? And Oliver himself had said Anvi attacked him, and they still thought he deserved it? What did they fucking know? They didn't know anything. Even if it was true that Oliver had no reason to shoot Anvi, especially six times in that way, they didn't know that. They just jumped to a conclusion because they were idiots. Fucking idiots, fucking wankers. This was so stupid, how come he had to deal with these fucking wankers? When he got out of here-

Oliver blinked, processing the thought that just drove through his head.

Of course, that. He still had his own plan. He needed to make sure that nobody here lived for the good of the world, at least for the good of the United Kingdom. And that included him, so there was no "when he got out of here" to speak of, because he wasn't getting out of here. It was strange; when he usually went through being sick or hurt, he'd have time at home to recover, play games, take the piss on the internet, but here there was nothing. His head was probably going to hurt until he died and that was that. Maybe he was just too tired from everything that had happened since Anvi. The crusted over head wound on the back of his skull probably didn't help matters.

Oliver took stock of everything. Surprisingly, despite what had happened to him, everything of his own was still there - his stuff, Samuel's stuff, and even his gun, which had been sticking out of his back pocket forever. He wasn't hard up on his belongings anymore, even if they were the shittiest last belongings he could own - everything except the gun. As he kneeled in the sand, he took the gun in his hands, looking it over. This thing had killed Anvi, and it had the power to do even more than that. It took chunks out of her body like holey cheese, and that was in a mad desperate scramble to stay alive. Imagine what it could do if Oliver was more focused on taking an active role in what he was meant to be doing - there could be a lot more Samuels around.

Well, that was it, then, wasn't it? He was going to have to take things into his own hands, wasn't he? If Tiny and Rajni and Galahad thought he was a crazy bellend set on murdering all of them and nothing he could do would change their minds, he might as well play the part. He knew in his head he wasn't crazy, but there was no point in not pretending to be crazy and being more proactive if everyone there was going to think it anyway.

And that was the note on which Oliver left the seaside, looking for more people.

((Oliver Davies continued elsewhere))