Transitive Bodies

[The Bearded One*]

((Bobby Goldman continued from Metanoia))


Bobby ran. At first, he thought the direction didn't matter, but then he realized that the Resort Beach to the east would have no place to hide, and heading west would take him in front of one of the Hotel's main doors where he could be shot by one of the 'nimrod' attackers. That only left north.

He didn't even consider stopping to check his map or to make sure he was heading in the right direction by using his compass. He vaguely remembered that the Forest and the Geyser were both to the north, but he'd have to pass through the Open Plains to get there. Thinking about such trivialities helped keep his mind off of the repetitive and jarring pain he felt in his right side and leg each time his weight fell on that side. I just have to keep going, he told himself.

Bobby's self-distracting thoughts were derailed when he saw a set of cabins over the next hill. He slowed down, observing them, watching for movement and listening for more sounds of gunfire. There were none.

This is exactly the kind of place where people go to get killed. I shouldn't go in there. He cautiously headed toward the cabins by the lake, his exhaustion making the decision for him.

The first cabin he came to had its door ajar. Bobby took a deep breath, readying his makeshift weapons, then stepped through the doorway. There was a soft buzz of flies and the stink of rotting meat. When his eyes adjusted to the dimness, Bobby saw that there was a girl's body lying on the bed. Her bandanna and backpack had already been scavenged from her; all that was left was her clothes and what the flies were feeding on. There was no way to identify who she may have been, nor did Bobby feel much like trying. He quickly backed out of the cabin, happy to be breathing fresh air again.

He headed to the next cabin. That's what Simon is going to look like in, what, a day or two. Bile rose up in Bobby's throat as he thought of someone he actually knew rotting, unburied, that way. The next cabin was not far, so those thoughts were interrupted. The second cabin was near pristine: No swarm of flies, no rotting corpses, and no hidden assailants.

Bobby closed the door to the cabin, wedged a chair against the doorknob so that it would be much harder to force open the door, then he took off his backpack and lay down on the bed. Only then did the tears erupt from behind his eyelids.

---

Abraham Goldman swiftly reached down and picked up Simon Porter from the ground, then turned toward the door. "Hurry up and open the door, son! We need to get this boy to a hospital!"

Bobby stood by the emergency exit, frozen in place. What is my father doing here? Why did I forget that there was a hospital nearby? No wonder Dad is so disappointed in me.

His father shouted at him again, "don't just stand there, Bobby! Hey there --"

---

Bobby shot up from the bed at the sound of the noon announcements. He listened to them while calmed his heart and ate the last of his beef jerky and drank the last of his water. Crap, now I get the joy of dehydration while running for my life.

Karen Ruiz was cutting a swath of death through the other students, Brennan's girlfriend had been killed, as had Eloise and Skyler, and the Resort Beach was now a danger zone.

He was about to stand up, but he realized he didn't have any idea where to go. He shook his head dejectedly. He realized he felt the collar shifting on his neck. He felt the temptation to wrap his hands around it and rip it off of his neck, but he knew what happened to people who had done that in prior seasons of Survival of the Fittest-TV: they didn't leave pretty corpses.

"I hope you're listening, Martin... um.... Sorry, I forgot your last name. Anyway, you've given me decent advice before, and I was hoping that maybe you could... I don't know... advise me.

"I guess you know that I ran away from the Hotel. I just left Simon there to die. I didn't want to, but he was bleeding so bad, and the guy with the shotgun was right on the other side of that door. I- I was scared. Now I'm out of water and almost out of food, and it seems like just about everyone else on this island is trying to kill everyone else. I don't know what to do now. I just want to be away from all of this death."

He sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, hoping that some answer would come.

[The Bearded One*]

He waited, breathing slowly in and out. There was no voice or any other sound coming from the collar. Damn, he thought, I was really hoping....

Bobby stood up, his eyes still downcast. "I guess there are rules about when you can talk to us. Are there even any other members of my team left? Maybe you'll be able to tell me sometime soon. For now, it looks like I'm on my own." He sighed, walked over to the door, and moved the chair aside.

Bobby opened the door cautiously and peered outside. There were still no sounds of life aside from the chirping of crickets in the cattails. When he looked, all he saw was the afternoon sun silhouetting a trio of birds over the lake.

I'm out of water, but I wonder.... He turned back towards the cabin's bed. "I wonder if there's some way to sterilize the lake water into something drinkable." He started a more thorough search of the cabin's rooms. In the cabin's kitchenette, he noted blandly that all of the knives had been removed, but there were large ceramic mixing bowls on the shelf. "Just what I need," Bobby smiled.

He took the bowl out to the lakeshore and filled it with water there. Then he started gathering dry grasses, twigs and branches from the area. He shaped the branches into a teepee-like pyramid with smaller twigs and tinder beneath. He unzipped his backpack. "This better not have been for nothing."

He pulled the various pieces of clothing and empty water bottles out, along with the one remaining tin of crackers. "Matches, come on, please let there be matches." At last, he opened the first aid kit, and after a brief search, found the lighter. "Whew. No problem. Almost as good as matches," he held the lighter up in the direction of a nearby camera for a second before using it to light the tinder of his makeshift campfire.

The tinder burned quickly, and Bobby worried that it would burn out before the twigs caught fire. He was proven wrong; the twigs caught, then after a similarly nervous minute, the branches caught fire as well. He gathered up several more dry branches of various sizes, setting aside two large branches with 'Y' shapes.

Once he was sure the fire would keep going for a little while without his constant attention, Bobby set the two Y-shaped branches at angles on either side of the fire, meeting about three feet above the flames; then he carefully tried to balance the bowl of water at the intersection of the two branches, but the structure was too top-heavy.

"Damn," he grabbed another long branch and tried to wedge it on a third side to support the bowl. After another moment of uncertainty, he gingerly took his hands away from the branches and the bowl; they stayed up, the bowl of lake water held by three branches over a small camp fire. "And that's how it's done, ladies and gentlemen."

It took about ten minutes for the water in the bowl to boil. Bobby used his denim jacket like a smock to take the bowl off of the fire without burning himself. Then, while the water in the bowl slowly cooled, he began to refill his water bottles. He got two of the liter bottles full plus a little more than half of a third.

He glanced again across the lake at the sun setting gradually toward the horizon. "Hey, Martin, this fire is going to stand out like a beacon after sunset. Are you going to be able to warn me if anyone's coming?"

Once again, Bobby hoped for an answer, but didn't really expect one.

[MurderWeasel]

A voice echoes very quietly from Bobby's collar...

"MarWIN here again. I'm not allowed to talk to you that often, so I won't be able to warn you if anyone's coming. I waited last time you asked for advice so I wouldn't waste my message. You did good at the hotel. I know you want to get away from this all, but the only way is to play smart. For example, right now you have a fire that's going to draw a lot of attention. Should you camp near it? Hell no. You have a lure, Bobby. Just find a more hidden spot, then sit back and see what moths your flame attracts. Then you can figure out how to deal with them."

[The Bearded One*]

The voice from the collar surprised Bobby just a bit. Martin hadn't said whether Bobby was the last member of his team, but he did give quite a bit of other information and advice. Bobby considered what he'd heard while putting a bit more wood on the fire. It's been almost three full days since the game began and I still haven't seen or even heard of anyone who's on my team. They might still be out there somewhere, or they might have been quietly killed off early on. If any of them were from the other school, I wouldn't even know their names to mourn them.

He stood up and walked away from the lake and past the cabins. When Bobby spotted dry branches, he picked them up, adding to a pile in his arms. "So, I guess I need to try to explain...." He shook his head and started over. "Dad, I know that you're going to be watching this at some point. I don't imagine that I've done everything perfectly here, but I've tried.

"You saw that stupid shopping cart in the ski lodge. That was just about the stupidest assigned 'weapon' I can remember on any season of the show. It was too big to carry, and the wheels were too small to make it over any uneven or loose ground. Can you even imagine trying to push that thing along a beach? It was crap.

"I tried to scavenge weapons where I could, but every time there's been a fight, I've had the weakest hand. Karen had a pistol; Odile had a pistol; even the two 'nimrods' at the hotel seemed to have a shotgun and some kind of machine gun." He paused to rearrange the various sticks in his arms.

"Anthony... died so fast: One shot and down he went. I did my best against Karen for that, but I was getting hurt a lot faster than she was. Mostly because I didn't have any proper weapon.

"And Simon.... Shit, I'm so sorry about that. I feel terrible for just leaving him there to die alone and in pain, and I feel like crap for letting my terror make me run when I should have done something to try to help him."

Bobby stopped talking for a few minutes while he returned to the fire and set down his armload of wood next to it. He wiped his sleeve across his eyes preemptively. "I guess I just want you to know that I love you, Dad, and I'm trying to make you proud of me, even here.

"I'm not completely sure that I've calculated right, but unless I was knocked out for an entire day, then tomorrow should be my birthday. Yay." He stared into the fire. "Give my love to Mom and Iris and Delilah." He blinked a few times, shifting his gaze away from the flames. "Keep watching; maybe I'll surprise you."

Bobby tossd a couple more sticks onto the fire, then walked away along the shore of the lake, looking for a place to hide. The sun disappeared below the horizon, and the orange sky slowly faded into a deep, navy blue.

Before the sky darkened enough for the stars to emerge from the black, he found a small rock-and-dirt hollow about ten yards from the fire. He hopped down onto the packed mud at the bottom of the hollow, shrugged off his backpack, and prepared to wait.

[The Bearded One*]

Bobby leaned his back against the rough dirt wall of the hollow by the lake. He looked up, into the evening sky, and saw the faint glimmers of the stars just beginning to wink and sparkle into view. There were no clouds to obstruct his view, and he briefly wondered what those stars would look like through a telescope.

At the same time, the sound of the fire crackling and popping as it devoured the branches reached his ears. Will I be able to hear anyone approach over the noise of the fire? he thought. And if I do, what am I actually planning to do if someone does wander by?

If they're a member of my team, then no problem: ally. If not, then I'll need to judge whether they're friendly or hostile. Based on what the announcements have been saying, the chances of a friendly encounter are pretty slim by now. So I should assume a hostile player. I guess I'll need to find some way to take them by surprise, get them at a disadvantage, and then take their weapon from them.

Am I ready to kill someone to get off the island? I don't think I can do that. I could probably kill in self defense, or if the person who wandered by was Karen Ruiz, but I'm not a murderer, and I'm not prepared to become one just for a TV show, however popular.

Bobby felt the weight of the copper pipe in his hand again. He couldn't help himself from wondering what it would do to someone's head if he swung it.... He turned his head away in disgust at his own thought process. I don't want to ever find out.

[Cake]

[[GLD4: Shawn Morrison and Mae St. Clair Continued From: I Found a Whistle.]]

They headed north to their destination of the Ski Resort, but the sight of smoke near the closest lake, marked "Inland" on the map, caught Shawn's attention. It was highly suspicious, but it also meant that there may be someone he knew that could help them nearby. Again he thought of Renée Carlson for her knowledge of this whole game and of course Jacob Langston, his best friend from school, who Mae implied was here as well, who he had not seen even once his entire stay on the island.

Mae had seemed quiet as well, as she stood behind Shawn, who now held Alicia's Pump Action Shotgun in his hand, a nodachi attached to his bag, Zach's rather heavy bag over his other shoulder, with who knows what was inside and the revolver in his pocket. Before heading any closer to the source of the smoke, Shawn opted to crouch behind some bushes to wait and listen for any sounds, waving for Mae to follow.

He noticed that he was hogging all the weapons, with herself only holding her katana. The revolver was the lightest weight weapon they had and it would be easy for Mae to carry. He pulled out the revolver from his pocket and noted the dried blood from Ben's body still on it. The same went for Zach's bloody sword. Was it weird that the blood on their current weapons was blood from their own gold team mates? It certainly felt that way to him and no doubt seeing the blood on their weapons and clothes would not be a good sign to whoever was at that fire.

Shawn removed the bloody white shirt from his body, along with the two bags. He quietly put down the weapons on the grass as well. Next, he dipped the white shirt into the lake, washing as much of the blood off of it. Finally he used the wet t-shirt as an impromptu rag and with it, wiped clean the dried blood from the swords and the revolver. He had enough extra clothing now, that Shawn could afford to abandon the unusable wet shirt under the bush.

After putting on his own black shirt from home, he looked up at Mae as he lifted up the revolver by it's barrel and passed it to her by the handle.

"Here." He told her with a soft voice.
"I'm going to check what's up over there. Stay here with our stuff and keep watch, please? I have the shotgun. If something happens, you have the gun or the whistle."

He gave her a reassuring smile and then headed towards the fire.

[The Bearded One*]

As Shawn approached the small campfire, there were no other people visible. No one appeared to be tending the fire nor enjoying its warmth.

Bobby Goldman, one day shy of his seventeenth birthday, was sitting in a damp hollow ten yards away, oblivious to the other boy's proximity. Maybe no one is moving around the island in the dark any more, he mused. With people like Karen around -- not to mention whichever nimrod was wielding that shotgun -- it really isn't safe anywhere any more.

Bobby glanced once more toward the west. The sun had fully set; the sky was as dark in that direction as it was in any other. I'd go to sleep, but I'm not tired yet. Instead, he opened his backpack and pulled out the last package of crackers. I also need to figure out what I'm going to do for food after this is gone. His eyebrows knitted in consternation, and he began eating.

[Cake]

The glow of the fire was oddly comforting for Shawn. What was unsettling, however, was the fact that the small campfire was unattended to. There was no one else around at all, or at least that he could see. What reason could anyone have, to leave a fire like this burning without anyone around. There had to be someone here, but they had to be hiding. It had to be a trap.

Shawn's heart beat began to increase again, ready for any attacks, but none came. No one had sneaked up on him or shot at him, but he still couldn't be entirely sure. Maybe whoever it was, was hiding from him then? They heard him or saw him approach with that large shotgun and then hid? Still he was going to be careful.

Slowly and as quiet as possible Shawn went back into the shadows and laid belly first onto the grass, away from the illumination from the campfire. He kept low, eyes looking up and around and alert as possible to any movements should this really be a trap. He held the gun at ready and spoke. If it was someone friendly that he knew, hearing his voice might make them relax.

"Hello? Who's out there? Whoever you are, come out and show yourselves."

[peregrineink*]

Mae held the revolver tightly in her hand, watching as Shawn left. More death, all they had seen so far was more death, and she was loathe to watch him walk away from her again.

It's okay, Mae, he's coming back this time, he's not going to leave again.

The thought made her stomach feel warm as her free hand went to touch the whistle he had placed around her neck. Team Gold was fine, team Gold was going to be okay. They were armed to the teeth and they had each other now, what else did they need?

She couldn't stop thinking of the peace sign in the sand, and what it meant. Were they really going to kill now? Of course both of them had done it, but they had never actively sought it out.

Of course, it wasn't as though they were doing that now. They were going to protect themselves no matter what. If that led to killing it led to killing.

Mae watched the flames flicker and dance from her spot in hiding. It seemed so weird that they had only spent a few days camping and trying to survive out here, and yet Mae could barely remember what it was like to use a hair dryer.

She watched Shawn's retreating back and held her breath slightly. Hopefully everything would be okay.

[The Bearded One*]

The crackers were drying out Bobby's mouth, and he finally decided to try his newly -- and hopefully -- sterilized water. Just as he unscrewed the bottle's cap, he heard a shout. "Hello? Who's out there? Whoever you are, come out and show yourselves."

What miserable timing! He took a quick swig of water. It had a strange, grassy taste. Then he put the cap back on the bottle and set it down. What am I going to do? I thought I'd be the one to take people by surprise, but I've got the weaker hand again.

After only a few seconds, Bobby decided that shouted conversation was a better idea that getting shot. Also, the voice sounded a little familiar. He was about to ask 'are you playing?' but realized that such a question could never produce a reliable answer. "How many kills do you have so far?"

He hoped that question might elicit a more honest and more useful answer.

[Cake]

He hadn't really expected it so soon, but less than a minute after he spoke, somebody decided to answer. Right away.

Shawn thought he recognized that voice from somewhere, but he just could not figure out, who it was or from where he heard it. It might have been one of his classmates back at Silver Dragon Academy then?

"How many kills do you have so far?"

The guy asked him, straight forward. At first Shawn had been caught off guard and he didn't know how to respond. Then he realized he'd either have to lie to the guy or tell the truth about the amount of kills he had, about killing Jaszmine Johnson... He hesitated at first, but settled on telling the truth. He tensed up for the answer.

"One. A girl, back at the hotel. I didn't mean to, but it happened... and you?"

[peregrineink*]

Mae listened quietly as the two talked. The strange voice had asked Shawn how many kills he had amassed and Mae found herself taken aback by the straightforwardness of the question.

However, since she could hear them speaking very calmly, she figured there would be no harm in joining the conversation. She climbed out of the bushes, and, keeping the revolver close, started to slowly walk towards the fire.

It would be fine. Maybe the boy was peaceful, maybe it would all be fine!

[The Bearded One*]

The boy's answer shocked Bobby's memory. He vividly remembered walking into the hotel and seeing two boys with gold bandannas standing over Jaszmine's body. He felt the flush of anger, the desire for revenge. His fist tightened around the copper pipe in his hand, but then he remembered the words: 'I didn't mean to, but it happened.'

Bobby's anger drained away; his hand relaxed a bit. There was so much tension in the hotel, and so many people ramping up the stress. The darker-haired boy did pick up the gun, but as far as I could tell, he didn't start firing at anyone. If there is anyone left on this island who will treat me humanely, it's probably these guys.

"I don't have any kills. I'm... I'm going to come out now, so don't shoot, please."

Bobby tossed his backpack up onto the dry ground, then he climbed up and out of the hollow, feeling the ache in his side again as he did so. He held the copper pipe in his hand, but held it casually at his side. On the far side of the fire, he saw the lighter-haired boy from the hotel, and a girl that he'd never seen before. They were both carrying firearms, so Bobby carefully put the pipe down beside his pack and raised his hands in surrender.

"I'm sort of... um... out of food."

[Cake]

The other boy had taken Shawn's answer well, it seemed as he was now moving out of his hiding place, asking for Shawn not to shoot him.

The silhouette of the boy was still unrecognizable in the shadows. Shawn stood up from his position on the ground, slowly, bringing the gun up with him as he stood, still focusing the gun at the figure. The other boy approached the glow of the fire, dropping his bag and some sort of melee object from his hands and onto the floor. Slowly, the boy lifted his hands into the air, palms in front, in a sign of surrender.

Seeing this made Shawn lower the gun a bit as he approach the fire himself, to have a look at his acquaintance's face. Then his heart suddenly seemed to stop.

Swiftly, Shawn pulled the Remington 870 up, face level and pointed at the other boy's chest. He knew where he had heard that voice before. That voice belonged to the boy at the hotel, the aggressive one who had threatened himself and Ben at the Hotel. The only reason he couldn't pin point the voice at first, was because the boy wasn't yelling this time. Shawn wasn't usually very good at names, but he remembered this guy's name for a very good reason.

"Bobby, right?" He kept the voice calm in his caution. "Jaszmine's boyfriend?"

He was about to apologize to Bobby, but Shawn was very much nervous. He was still quite wary of all the Detroiters and he needed to make absolutely sure he was safe before relaxing his weapon. It was a good way to discourage someone from acting rashly towards him. Sure, Shawn did not know how to use the large gun, but he would make himself learn if he needed to.

The Detroit teen had humbly asked for food, but Shawn had a few questions needing to be answered before he could consider Bobby friendly enough to earn some.

"Where are your friends.. Are you alone? Where's Simon?"

[peregrineink*]

Mae froze in her tracks as the mood suddenly turned ugly. Shawn had raised the shotgun and was talking coldly at the boy, who had suddenly walked into the light of the fire. Mae hadn't seen him during her time on the island. As Shawn raised his gun she started, thinking that the boy had said or done something threatening.

Then Shawn spoke.

Bobby, right? Jaszmine's boyfriend?"

She recognized Jaszmine's name as the girl that Shawn had killed, and her heart dropped to her knees. Shawn mentioned Simon, that quiet boy that had left them so soon. Had Shawn met up with him again?

Either way, her heart raced as she watched Shawn point a gun at another human being. She felt then that maybe she shouldn't have left the safety of the bushes, but at the same time, they were a team, and she wasn't just something to be protected.

So she quietly moved to Shawn's back and raised the revolver, offering silent support to him, punctuating his words with her actions. She wouldn't pull the trigger unless she absolutely had to of course. They weren't psychos.

They were just Team Gold.