Trees, Trees Everywhere.

[Dr. Nic*]

[Yellow #4 - Marcus Walker. Continued from Putting in Work]

"Fucking trees."

Marcus was hacking away at branches, mostly to take out his frustrations, with a stout and sturdy stick. Gnarled thing too, with a great big knob at the top, splintered bits of wood coming off from where it had broken.

"Hate these trees."

Marcus had a couple ugly scratches, on his arms and his legs, and one good one right across his face. A perfect explanation of why he was now beating trees and breaking branches left and right. Marcus didn't like getting hit by trees. They were following what could have once been described as a path, but it was overgrown and honestly, Marcus was getting tired of walking through the branches. Planting the stick firmly in the ground and dropping on to what looked like a soft enough patch of grass, Marcus decided it was time for a rest.

"Let's stop here for now."

They'd been wandering around for quite some time. They stopped to rest a few times, but Devonte and Marcus, it seemed, had energy to burn. They were going to find Anthony, and prove he wasn't dead. They were going to find him, and make it off this god damn island. If they knew anyone else who was on this damn island, if they found any more of their friends, they'd take them along too. Even if it was only one person they were looking out for. Jaszmine. Marcus hoped, prayed, begged for her not to be there. It was bad enough that Devonte and Anthony were there. He didn't need to worry about Jaszmine too.

"Wonder if we could find some food here."

Marcus muttered and looked around, looking back to Devonte and Skye. Marcus and Devonte had energy to burn, sure, but they were tiring out almost as much as Skye was. But they weren't going to stop looking. They had to keep looking. They had to. And the wandering, and the running, and the walking, and traveling this way and that? It would only get worse. If Skye thought the trip from the Hot Spot to their short lived camp on the open plains was bad, he would absolutely hate to hear what Marcus had in mind.

"Gonna need more than what we've got..."

Marcus poked at the ground, looked up into the trees, tossed around a few rocks and sighed at least once in his time sitting there. He spent a good bit of time thinking. About Anthony, about Devonte, about home and family and friends. About Grant, and Laney, and his grandma. Hell, he even thought about Skye. There wasn't much to think about though, besides his attitude here and his attitude at home. He was a douche at home, least in Marcus' opinion. Hung out with douches, and may or may not have actually been a douche himself. But here? He wasn't too bad. Maybe a little annoying, since he didn't exactly do much but follow him around, comment once or twice, and go back to looking like he just sucked a lemon. But Marcus knew why.

But the question was, which did Skye hate more? Marcus or Devonte?

Like that was even a question. Devonte had a mouth on him. Skye probably didn't like him on principle, what with the whole party fiasco. Sure, it was fun enough to stand around and bullshit while drinking all their pop, and play a prank or two, but Marcus hadn't forgotten the fight that was, apparently, narrowly avoided. Not that there was going to be much of a fight. Devonte had a mouth, but his jaw was made of glass. Bobby would have hit him, he would have hit the ground. Then Marcus would jump in, and shit would have been all bad. But Marcus himself had quite a reputation, so who knows, maybe Skye had it in for both of them and was just waiting for his moment. Which would have been all bad. Marcus didn't want to get shot, again, and didn't quite feel like offing someone he was just getting to know.

Might as well build a few bridges, instead of burning them.

"Hey Skye, bring that bow over here."

Marcus called Skye over, pushed himself up off of the ground and dusted himself off. A couple ants, and plenty of dirt, but he was no worse for the wear for sitting where he did. Except, maybe, for a damp spot on his ass. But that's what you get for sitting on the ground when it was still early morning, and when there was dew on practically everything.

"Thinking we could catch something with it. Think you could be a steady enough shot to hit anything?"

Hey now, don't insult a man about his aim. Leave that bit of nagging to the women in his house. God knows Marcus got yelled at a few times for his own aim, mostly after a late night working on something.

"Would be great practice, as well. If you can hit a little animal, you can hit a person. If you need to, that is."

Of course, it would be better to have a rifle. But they could always work with what they've got. A crossbow was better than a stick, after all. Marcus and Devonte, running around in the woods, trying to whack a squirrel with sticks? Hilarious, but not exactly productive. Nah, Marcus would include Skye. They were, after all, a team.

Yeah... a team.

"What do you say? Give it a shot?"

[BetaKnight*]

(( Devonte continued from Putting in Work))

“Man, fuck these trees. Trees are for bitches,” Devonte griped as he flailed and smacked at yet another stray branch that collided with him. When they set out to find Anthony, this was not was he expected at all. He was tired. He was sore. But more importantly, he was frustrated as hell at their failure to turn up the missing Anthony.

Stopping was the last thing on his mind as he shot their de-facto leader a sour expression. ‘A’course Marcus’ fat ass thinking about food. That nigga must be crazy, gonna shoot at shit and call it food. Ain’t nobody in they right mind eat a motherfucken’ rabbit or owl or whatever the fuck it is that live out here.’ He pursed his lips as Marcus called Skye over to him in order to keep his thoughts from becoming words.

As much as Devonte wanted to say something out loud, he knew better than to piss Marcus off. The bigger boy was his best friend, and Devonte knew he was doing his best to do right by him. Plus, Marcus had no qualms about reaching out and trying to smack the crap of out Devonte when the mood struck him. And Marcus might be in the mood to do so after getting so little sleep.

Once, when Marcus had stayed over and the two of them had stayed up all night watching tv and movies and playing video games, his grandmamma had described the overy tired Marcus as being like a bear with a sore ass. So instead of having the hissy fit like he wanted to, he settled for leaning up against a tree and watching Marcus and Skye.

Who knew. Maybe one of them would accidentally get shot by an arrow. Shit like that was always funny to watch.

[ThePureLight7*]

[[Yellow #1 - Skyler Thsani, continued from Putting in Work]]

"Ah, fuck!" Skye called as he followed the other two, his heart pounding in his chest. His party-hardy ways were starting to take their toll on him. He wanted to take off his sandals, but that would require him to go barefoot on the trail littered with branches. Fuck it! Why didn't D.A.R.E. include this in their fucking platform? "Remember Kids, if you drink alcohol, then you're not going to be able to walk through the woods and someone will likely take the opportunity that arises to shoot you!" I mighta just listened to them then!

"Hey, guys!" he said, calling out to the others, "Did either of you notice if there was a change of shoes in the daypacks or not?" Neither of them seemed to hear him. They all three just continued walk through the thick foliage. Marcus just seemed to be using a stick he picked up to beat away at anything that he happened to run into.

I pray to God that Amber chose to actually wear shoes instead of sandals.

No, correction. I pray to God that Amber is at home watching TV, or doing her make-up, or making out with some chick I don't know, or whatever-the-fuck it is that Amber does in her free time when she's not busy being brutally murdered to death by some guy who sits next to her in chemistry.

Skye wasn't out-of-shape - not by a longshot - but Marcus definitely one-upped him when it came to brute force. Plus, Skye tired easily. Case in point. Maybe we could get some sort of brains-brawn dual-leadership thing going when we meet the rest of our team, he said to himself, Make the best of being paired together. He seems a bit stubborn anyway, so it would be best for everyone that there was someone else - i.e. me - to try and keep him handled. Strategizing helped him keep his mind off of the constant pain in his chest and the soles of his feet.

Suddenly, Marcus stopped, throwing his stick into the ground. He moved aside to the grassy area. "Let's stop here for now," Marcus said, looking around.

Skye moved off to the edge of the trail and collapsed in the grass. "It's like you read my mind, Man..." he sighed.

"Wonder if we could find some food here," Marcus said, looking off into the trees off the path, "Gonna need more than what we've got... Hey Skye, bring that bow over here." He motioned to Skye, who let out a light groan and stood up.

So much for a rest... he thought, taking note of the situation, However, this might mean that Marcus is starting to trust me a little more. Let's hope for the best - the best being that he's willing to work together once we find the rest of our team, regardless of who's there.

Devonte stood back and watched the other two as they continued talking. "Thinking we could catch something with it. Think you could be a steady enough shot to hit anything?" Marcus motioned to Skye, "Would be great practice, as well. If you can hit a little animal, you can hit a person. If you need to, that is."

Skye knew not the first thing about shooting, but he could try. He didn't want to look stupid as Marcus was trying to reach out his hand in cooperation. At least, that's what he hoped Marcus was doing. For all he really knew, the man could just be really hungry. If that were the case, Skye couldn't really blame him.

"What do you say? Give it a shot?"

Skye looked up, saw some sort of squirrel or something in a nearby tree. It was straight ahead with nothing in-between the target and him. He cocked (That's what it's called, right? Cocking?) his bow, lifted it into position, and steadied his sights on the creature. His tongue could've been bleeding for how hard Skye was biting down on it. "Yeah," he said, "It'll be a shot straight into the dark, though..."

Skye shot the arrow as gently as he could, but it still seemed to come out of complete nowhere to him. There was little recoil, but Skye still felt a quick punch. He turned his head away slightly as the arrow flew. In the blink of an eye, Skye heard a crack as the arrow hit and dug itself into the bark of the tree, maybe a few inches away from the squirrel. Almost simultaneously, the critter ran off.

"Dammit!" Skye mumbled under his breath. He walked forward a little bit, and reached up for the arrow. He pulled it out of the tree, "At least the arrow looks fine. I was close, right?"

[Dr. Nic*]

"Close, but no cigar. Or breakfast. Ah well, we can try again next time we spot something."

Or someone. It never quite slipped his mind. Where they were, what they would have to do, what may have already happened to one of their own. They were out there looking for Anthony and he may already be dead. They were out there, wandering aimlessly, not really knowing where the fuck to go. And with the state of their weapons, they would be up shit creek without a paddle if someone spotted them and got the drop on them while they were out wandering. Yeah, this shit wasn't going to do anyone any good. They needed to come up with an actual plan.

...Fuck plans man.

Marcus couldn't come up with shit. Just ended up flopping back down on the ground, dropping on his ass on another soft spot.

"Man, what the fuck we gonna do?"

He went and scratched his chin, scratched at his goatee. He always kept it trimmed when he was at home. It would get all scraggly and scratchy here. But it was just a distraction now, something to get his mind off the business at hand. He'd rather think about anything than the things they would have to do, the things other people were already doing, the things his friends would be subjected to. Marcus got shot before. It sucks. It really fucking sucks. Hurt like a bitch when he realized what happened, burned like nothing else, and being laid up in a hospital was pretty bad in and of itself. When would they get some decent food in those places?

Marcus sighed.

"We gotta come up with a plan besides wander aimlessly. I know we looking for Anthony and all, but we should at least come up with something to do in the mean time. Maybe find other team mates or some shit. Definitely gotta get out hands on some decent fucking weapons. This show may be racist but fuck, we're some big fucking dudes. Well, big enough. We could always... y'know."

And Marcus looked to Devonte and Skye, cracked his knuckles and tried to look intimidating as he could, sitting in the grass with a wet ass and wrinkled clothes.

"We could just fucking take what we want. That is the point, after all. Take what we want, give nothing back. Skye got the bow, got us covered with range. Devonte, you and I could jack people for all they're worth. You work 'em up, make 'em angry, make 'em stupid. And I drop them, hard."

Live the thug life then, so to speak. Marcus didn't particularly like the idea. It was everything he fought against in his old neighborhood. It was everything he tried to keep Grant from learning and imitating. But here on the island, it may very well be the only thing that will keep them alive. Keep them alive and put them above the rest, if they took it far enough. But they would only do it when it was necessary. Only if necessary.

"I ain't saying we gonna like it, but it may just keep us all alive and kicking until we find a way off this floating pile of shit they dropped us on."

Of course, no matter what plan they came up with, no matter what Marcus pitched, there was still one big issue that they had to deal with before anything else could happen.

Devonte and Skye.

They had been traveling together well enough, but who knows how they would react to being forced to work with each other. But Marcus had an idea for that. It may just work, if he could pull it off and avoid getting shanked in the process. It was a stupid idea, but it was the only thing that came to mind. But it could wait, for now. No need to use it just yet. See if they can work together first. Then use plan B only if necessary.

Only if necessary.

[BetaKnight*]

Devonte sighed and tuned out Marcus as he talked.

And talked.

And talked.

Blah blah blah.

He glanced around at their surroundings, at sad-ass Skye with his weapon he could barely work. He scratched the itch at the side of his nose. He concentrated on the drop of sweat rolling down his spine until it disappeared into the band of his boxers. He glanced at his fingers and noted the amount of dirt and gunk accumulating under his nails. His grandmamma would not approve him of wandering around in day old drawls or with dirty hands.

Well, that’s just too damn bad, isn’t it? Grandmamma isn’t here. She wasn’t gonna get here, ever. Just like Anferny wasn’t here. Not any more. No Grandmama. No Anferny. No Jaszmine. Just Marcus and Skye. Neither of whom could hit the broadside of a barn.

You know who could hit a target? He could. He could hit shit just fine. To prove his point, Devonte reached into his bag and pulled out a can of pop. Reaching back, he hurled it at Skye and Marcus.

‘Less talk, more action,’ he thought as the can tumbled through the air. ‘Only bitches sit around and gab. Men do shit.’

[ThePureLight7*]

Skye started to walk back towards Marcus, reloading his crossbow. "So, should we just continue practici-"

Suddenly, he was interrupted by a blunt object which hit him in the head. Shit! he thought, falling back a little. He closed his eyes and tensed up. He stumbled over a root that had been covered with a pile of leaves. As he flailed through the air, he accidentally pulled down the trigger to his weapon. There was a loud crack as the bolt flew through the air.

Skye hit the ground, and a pile of leaves broke his fall. He opened his eyes and blinked around a few times. There was a glint of sun in his eye, and he used his arm as a cover. There was a large cut down the side of his arm; he had likely scratched it on a branch when he hit the ground. "Fuck," he muttered quietly, standing up. He'd twisted his ankle pretty bad as well. "Is everyone okay? What was tha-?"

He looked down and saw the can. It was only a can... he said to himself, Freaking out over a little can. I thought we were being ambushed. He chuckled a little, before looking over to where Devonte was sitting. After that, any trace of a smile was wiped quickly from his face.

"Oh shit..."

[Dr. Nic*]

"Nigga, what the fuck you think you... doing..."

Marcus threw up his arm, spun around to yell at Devonte, started over to give him a good smack to the back of the head... and stopped dead in his tracks.

"D... Devonte?"

Marcus didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. He just stood, and stared. It took so long for him to realize what he was looking at. It took so long before the shock wore off that he understood what he was looking at, took so long for the horror of reality to set in. But it didn't take him long to run to Devonte, to clasp his hands around the wound. Desperately trying to stop the bleeding.

"No no no no no no no."

This can't be happening.

This can't be real.

This can't be fucking happening.

This wasn't supposed to fucking happen!

"You gonna be alright. I... I can fix this! You gonna be alright."

God damn it, this wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't part of the plan. This... this wasn't right! None of this was supposed to happen! They were going to go home man. They were going to find Anferny and they were going to own shit. Devonte wasn't supposed to... wasn't supposed to...

"Damn it!"

Marcus couldn't see. Wiped his eyes and realized he was fucking bawling like a baby, trying to stop Devonte from bleeding.

"You gonna be alright... You gonna be..."

Damn it.

Why did this have to happen?

[BetaKnight*]

Devonte just stared at the arrow, blinking. The fuck was this shit? He was shot?

Really?

He lifted his hand and touched the protruding arrow. Ain’t that about a bitch. That motherfucker done shot him. Motherfuckin’ Skye shot him. Devonte giggled as he stared at the arrow. The movement moved it, causing a lot of pain. Without thinking, he gripped the arrow and jerked it out in a single, swift movement.

Ooh muh gawd, that shit hurt! His hand shook and he dropped the arrow. Next thing he knew, Marcus was there, putting hands on him. Devonte looked up at Marcus in confusion. What the hell was he doing? And…was Marcus crying?

He was! That fucker was cryin’ all over the place. He got shot by motherfuckin’ Skye and now Marcus was going to pieces like some weak-ass bitch. Oh, the irony!

“Marcus…you cryin’?” Devonte rolled his eyes and motioned for Marcus to come closer. He had something important to tell him.

“Nigga, you gay.”

[Dr. Nic*]

"Don't play man... Not now."

Despite what Marcus said, despite the situation they were in, he couldn't help but laugh at Devonte for that little comment. Couldn't help but fucking laugh, but in the end he just ended up crying more. Why did this shit have to happen? Why did Devonte have to get hit? Marcus pressed and tried to stop the blood, using whatever he had on hand to stop the blood. Used his bandanna, Devonte's bandanna, trying to stop the bleeding. But nothing was working, and Marcus was still bawling like a bitch.

"I can fix this. I can fix this. You gonna be alright."

Time was running out and it was getting to the point where Marcus had to admit that he may not be able to fix it. That he wouldn't be able to stop the bleeding, or... or...

Or save Devonte.

"Devonte, I can't."

He couldn't say it.

"I can't..."

He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, stared at Devonte, tried to find some way to change what was happening. Tried to think of something he could do, anything he could do, to change their situation for the better. But nothing came to him. He couldn't do anything. All he could do is sit there.

And watch Devonte die.

"Don't... Don't leave me man. You can't..."

[BetaKnight*]

“Man, you gotta pull yo shit together, son,” Devonte chided Marcus. “It’s all on you to go take care of Jaszmine. You gotta be hard to get through this.” He looked at the bloody scrap of cloth clutched in Marcus’ hand. “Man, Marcus, I can’t go out like a punk. You gotta help me. I can’t bleed out by accident. Don’t let me be remembered as a bitch.”

He paused for a second and craned his neck a bit, trying to get a look at Skye before turning his attention back to Marcus. “Please tell me I at least got him a good one. He got like a black eye or somethin’, right?”

Marcus didn’t even crack a smile. He still just looked distressed. Devonte sighed and tried to reassure his friend. “I’m bein’ serious, man. People can’t remember me as being the black kid who got shot on accident. You gotta kill me so they say it was somethin’ else. Use it to build your rep as a badass motherfucker so all them crazy little biscuits stay out your way.” Devonte tried to brace himself. “Do it. Just…you know. Make it quick. ‘Cause this bleeding bullshit sucks.”

[Dr. Nic*]

"I can't do that man... You fucking know I can't do that."

Marcus tried again to help Devonte. Put his hands back on the wound, pressed down, tried to stem the flow of blood, but it was useless. Whatever the fuck it hit, it wasn't going to stop. It just... it just wouldn't stop. There was no helping it now. But Marcus didn't want to accept that. Marcus wouldn't accept that. He had to keep trying. He just had to. But in the end, he stopped. All he was doing was hurting Devonte. All he was doing was making this last moment with him painful.

He had to accept it.

"I gotta be hard, don't I?"

Gotta be hard. Gotta be a man. Gotta man the fuck up and deal.

"Jaszmine is still probably here, ain't she..."

Marcus wasn't even talking to Devonte, just acknowledging him. Trying to let the information sink in to his own head.

"You... you can't be seriously telling me to..."

But he was. In all the seriousness that Devonte could muster. Which wasn't much, even in a time like this. But it was enough. Asking Marcus to do something like that... and then cracking a fucking joke. Devonte was... Devonte was an idiot. A tried and true fucking moron. Marcus didn't even laugh. Just stared at him, almost in disbelief.

Fucking... fucking moron.

Marcus wiped his eyes.

"I can't... I can't do that Devonte. I just..."

But he had to. He knew he had to. After all of this, he couldn't just let Devonte go out like a bitch. For all Devonte's talk and for all his fucking moronic jokes, Devonte was still his friend. And sometimes, you gotta do a big favor for a friend that you know is never gonna get repaid. Something you know is bad, something you know is gonna get to you. But you gotta fucking do it, cause he's your best god damn friend and he needs it done.

"I..."

Marcus put hands on Devonte.

"I'll do it."

His hands felt weak, and his stomach turned over so many times it felt as if it was ripping itself right out of his gut. But he would do what Devonte asked. No matter how hard it would be, no matter what it meant he was. Devonte was his friend, his best fucking friend, and it was the last favor he could do for him. It was the last kindness he could give him.

After all they went though, this is what it came down to. Years of friendship, and this is how it was going to end.

"You like my fucking brother man..."

Marcus' voice was weak as hell, but he tried to force the words out.

"I love you man... I'ma miss you."

Gotta get home. Tell Devonte's grandmama what happened. She doesn't watch this trash, so he had to deliver the news. He had to be hard and get through this.

One last favor.

"You're my brother."

And Marcus put hands on Devonte.

Did what he asked.

[BetaKnight*]

Devonte nodded as he saw Marcus come to grips with what had to be done.  "You my brother, too, man.  Roll outta here, get Jaszy, and you show them how we do it in the D."  He patted Marcus' hand as they came into contact with his body.

"You my boy.  That's why you can trust in what I'mma tell you."  He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.  

"Nigga, seriously.  You gay."

With that, he closed his eyes as he felt Marcus shift his hands.  At least this way, he was going out with love.  Not left in the street like some punk.  He would go, find Anferny, kick his ass for going out like a bitch, and then wait for the time when, years down the line, Marcus and Jaszmine would join their party.

A few heartbeats later, the rhythmic pounding stopped.  

Grey 3: Devonte Washington - Eliminated

[Dr. Nic*]

"Fucking... moron."

Marcus just fucking broke down. Started crying and ended up laughing. Devonte was a god damned idiot. Motherfucking dumbass nigga. Just a god damn... fucking... moron.

But he loved that idiot. Loved him like a damn brother. And now he's dead.

And who's fucking fault is that?

Fucking Skye. That bastard shot Devonte. That fucker started all of this. It was his fault that Devonte had to died. It was his fucking fault that Marcus had to put Devonte down. It was his fucking fault. His fucking fault. Marcus stared at the bloody bandannas in his hands. One yellow, one gray, both stained in Devonte's blood.

His grip tightened.

"YOU FUCK!"

Marcus was up in no time.

"YOU BASTARD!"

Shouting, screaming, pissed off and looking put someone down in the ground with Devonte. Looking to make someone pay.

"I'll fucking kill you!"

And Marcus was after Skye.

No fucking mercy. No fucking quarter. Just Marcus, Skye, and a whole shit house of directed rage.

[ThePureLight7*]

Skye looked on at the bloody scene. It was like looking at a macabre painting - mostly red, accented by brown, with the glint of Marcus' yellow bandana thrown in for good measure. He couldn't manage to move; he just stared on in unadulterated horror. I shot him... he thought, I fucking shot him! Shit! Oh, fucking shit! He could hear Marcus and Devonte talking, but he couldn't concentrate on what they were saying.

He became disoriented. Everything around him seemed to blur out of his sight except for the bloody picture in front of him. Everything seemed to be moving slowly. He stumbled around a little, dizzily. He looked down at his bleeding arm again. "Fuck..." he mumbled. He closed his eyes and fell to the ground, landing in a sit-down position with his hands holding his body up.

When he opened his eyes again, Marcus was still down at Devonte's side, laughing. Skye couldn't help but chuckle a little, too. He didn't know why, but it was contagious. He stopped as soon as Marcus turned around and he saw the burn in his eyes. He was standing now. There was nothing about which to laugh.

"YOU FUCK!" he shouted, "YOU BASTARD!" Skye moved back a little, still on the ground. He now had a reason to be truly terrified. "I'll fucking kill you!" He charged at Skye with a terrifying force. Skye was no lightweight, but he couldn't think straight at this moment. Plus, to be honest, he didn't want to fight Marcus; he was on his team and he didn't want more blood on his hands.

Alright, he thought to himself, Maybe we can talk this out. That's the best-case scenario. Get him to calm down; re-establish our little team and then go on and find the others. It was, after all, an accident. I can explain this to him and we can get right back on track. It'll be very emotional, yes, but it will be much less violent.

Oh, no, wait. Never mind. Ignore that entire last paragraph. He never actually thought any of that. He was too busy chanting a little mantra that went a little something along the lines of, "OH SHIT! OH FUCKING SHIT! OH FUCKING FUCK SHIT HE'S GOING TO KILL ME! SHIT FUCK SHIT SHIT SHIT!" He climbed up off the ground and ran through the forest, crossbow in tow.

[Dr. Nic*]

When Skye took off, Marcus gave chase. Ran that fucker down with the intent to beat his ass worse than the LAPD. Fuck beating him, Marcus was going to kill him. He was going to cave his fucking skull in. Make him pay for what he did to Devonte. Marcus ran Skye down, chased after him, further and further into the woods. But Skye was slipping further and further out of sight, behind the trees and eventually, Marcus slowed down. Lost sight of him. But he wasn't going to let Skye think he was going to get away with what he did. He wasn't going to let him think he was gonna get off light.

"I'll fucking KILL you, you hear me you piece of shit!? I'll hunt you down! I'll find you! I'll fuck your skull, you cock sucking motherfucker!"

When Marcus was done shouting, he just stood there and stared at the bloody bandanna in his hand. Just stared at it for the longest time. Didn't say anything, didn't do anything, didn't even think anything. Just stared at it. And when he was done, he turned around and walked back the way he came. It was tough, finding his way back, but the broken branches and disturbed underbrush eventually led him back.

"Damn it, Devonte."

Marcus knelt down next to Devonte. Did his best to make the boy look good in death. There wasn't a lot he could do though, but he did come up with an idea. And so, for a few hours, he gathered branches and rocks and anything he could cover Devonte with, and he buried the boy. It wasn't the best grave, but it was the best he could do for his friend. Standing there, with both his bandanna and Devonte's bandanna in his hand, he stared down at Devonte's grave.

"You're a moron, you know that?"

He wished he could hear Devonte's voice again. Listen to his idiotic comments. Get into trouble with him again. Mess with their friends back at home. But he couldn't. Devonte was dead, and so was Anthony. The gang was all but gone. Just Marcus and Jazsmine remained, and he didn't even know if Jaszmine was on the island. But even if he didn't know for sure, even if he never saw her, it couldn't hurt to look for her.

He did, after all, run in to Devonte. He ran in to Skye, and Anthony was there. There was a chance, big or small, that Jaszmine was there too. Marcus was not about to let her die. He would find her, if she was here, and he would at least keep her safe.

Find Jaszmine. Hunt down Skye. Kill bitches.

Marcus left those woods, spinning Devonte's butterfly pen.

[Yellow #4 - Marcus Walker. Continued in Tread Softly.]