((Maddy Stone continued from Fight or Flight))
She had found her bible.
It hadn't even been her intention, to take a bible with her. She knew enough of it off by heart to last a week, and if she was in doubt there were several other GODSpeed members on the trip who would be more than happy to lend her (if perhaps a bit surprised as to why she didn't bring one with her). But it was there, and Maddy suspected her mother's involvement. Several chapters had been helpfully marked out for her, and they were her mother's favourites, indexed with the blue sticky notes that she always used.
Looking at the bookmarks had been the hardest thing about this so far. She'd had three guns pointed at her face, been threatened for an idea that wasn't hers, and watched her friend get shot in front of her by someone who barely a shoadow of a motive, someone who didn't even know him. But that was all a dream, it happened in a part of her brain that she could compartmentalise off as being out of the ordinary, and Maddy could just about convince herself that all of this wasn't real.
But the post it notes in her bible? They screamed of such normalcy, something that was so definitely real, that she couldn't deny their existance, couldn't deny that they were here.
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
1 Corinthians 13. The very last sentence. Always a favourite of her mothers, it was already underlined from years ago. Maddy had never really thought about it before, what it meant. It had been dissected over the years in sermons and bible classes, but she had never paid attention. That was when Church was a chore, a ritualised way to prove to the world what she believed, even though she had known anyways. And now, when that sentence was more important than ever, she had lost one of them.
"All I have left are hope and love," she said softly to herself, gripping her cross in her hand, the shorter arms digging into her palm, but not quite drawing blood.
Maddy had tried to follow Raidon. Clio was too far gone, but she wanted to get something straight with him as it seemed unlikely that she would ever see him again. She wanted to tell him that she hated him, and she hoped that he went to hell for what he'd done. Perhaps it was a good thing she'd never managed to catch up with him. She was sitting against a tree, her legs straight out in front of her, a weapon either side within eacy reach, the bible open on her lap, facing the sea. Angry, waves crashing against the rocks, but out there? Out there was the world. Somewhere out there was Bayview, St Pauls, Minnesota, America. Somewhere out there her family were worrying where she was, only knowing that she was alive by watching the programme they always swore they never would (herself included). It looked so simple, escape. There were no visible boats, no visible snipers, nothing to stop her from swimming. Except... Her hands fluttered to the collar around her neck. They have control of you. You are not free.
Closing her eyes, I need to sleep, she tried to forget the world again.
These Three Remain
open, day 4
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xylophonefairy†
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These Three Remain
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JamesRenard†
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((Garry Villette continued from Caged in Like Animals))
Garry never thought that he'd miss feeling solid ground underneath his feet. But after spending the better part of the previous day clambering over slippery rocks, wading through shallow water and the occasional swim over deeper areas, he literally kissed the ground once he was able to reach dry land. Probably not the best thing to do in hindsight though, since Garry had to continually spit out grains of sand and dirt that rubbed against his teeth afterwards.
His injuries gained from the massive fall felt slightly better after a sleep during the night, but upon hearing the announcements the following morning, it felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest.
Hermione, one of his oldest friends, had died by taking her own life. His former companion Miranda was dead as well, murdered. The last time he'd seen her was two days ago, when they had that argument and went their separate ways. To hear she was now dead... that shocked him to the core. Daniel from the hockey team was dead as well, and now Nik had become a killer like his brother. 'Looking for the rest of the huskies... doesn't seem like a good idea now, does it?' Garry lamented. Half the team were murderers, and the other half, they were who knows where.
Worst of all though, he finally discovered who the person he and Luke had shared the clifftop with. Clio Gabriella. She'd killed twice during the first day, and had now taken another two people's lives. He felt like kicking himself; had he known who the purple-haired girl really was, he would have just ran away from her like his life depended on it, and would have told Luke to do the same. Could he have saved his life? Possibly... but for how much longer?
Kill or be killed, those were the only two options available to them. If someone didn't want to, didn't have it in them to murder someone, they just got murdered instead. Garry learnt that the hard way. He'd spared Clio's life, and she'd repaid him by shoving him off a fucking cliff. He was fortunate enough to survive the encounter, which probably pissed her off to no end. The thought of that made him smile slightly.
He'd been so much in thought that he only noticed the sleeping girl when he was just walking past her. A casual glance inland and he saw her propped up against the tree, an open book on her lap. She looked like she was only sleeping, but he just wanted to make sure. For all he knew, she could be unconscious or even dead.
"Hey, are you alright?" he asked, kneeling down in front of her.
Garry never thought that he'd miss feeling solid ground underneath his feet. But after spending the better part of the previous day clambering over slippery rocks, wading through shallow water and the occasional swim over deeper areas, he literally kissed the ground once he was able to reach dry land. Probably not the best thing to do in hindsight though, since Garry had to continually spit out grains of sand and dirt that rubbed against his teeth afterwards.
His injuries gained from the massive fall felt slightly better after a sleep during the night, but upon hearing the announcements the following morning, it felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest.
Hermione, one of his oldest friends, had died by taking her own life. His former companion Miranda was dead as well, murdered. The last time he'd seen her was two days ago, when they had that argument and went their separate ways. To hear she was now dead... that shocked him to the core. Daniel from the hockey team was dead as well, and now Nik had become a killer like his brother. 'Looking for the rest of the huskies... doesn't seem like a good idea now, does it?' Garry lamented. Half the team were murderers, and the other half, they were who knows where.
Worst of all though, he finally discovered who the person he and Luke had shared the clifftop with. Clio Gabriella. She'd killed twice during the first day, and had now taken another two people's lives. He felt like kicking himself; had he known who the purple-haired girl really was, he would have just ran away from her like his life depended on it, and would have told Luke to do the same. Could he have saved his life? Possibly... but for how much longer?
Kill or be killed, those were the only two options available to them. If someone didn't want to, didn't have it in them to murder someone, they just got murdered instead. Garry learnt that the hard way. He'd spared Clio's life, and she'd repaid him by shoving him off a fucking cliff. He was fortunate enough to survive the encounter, which probably pissed her off to no end. The thought of that made him smile slightly.
He'd been so much in thought that he only noticed the sleeping girl when he was just walking past her. A casual glance inland and he saw her propped up against the tree, an open book on her lap. She looked like she was only sleeping, but he just wanted to make sure. For all he knew, she could be unconscious or even dead.
"Hey, are you alright?" he asked, kneeling down in front of her.
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xylophonefairy†
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Someone was speaking.
Maddy's eyes snapped open at the sound of him voice. In front of there was a boy. An angel. She didn't know him, he was vaguely familiar, perhaps she'd seen him in the canteen at school, but no facts about him were springing to mind. All that she knew was that he wasn't dead, and even that wasn't a certainty. They might all be dead. This might be purgatory. Or hell. She'd done everything she could to avoid going to hell for all her life, and yet here she was, with sinners and Christians alike. I wonder what camp this guy falls into.
He was still waiting for a response. A couple of seconds had passed and all she had done was open her eyes and stare at him. That was probably unnerving, and yet she could stop. He had a great big bushy beard. The equivalent line from Hot Fuzz was running through her head. That was a movie that her mother didn't know she'd seen. It wasn't something that had been expressly banned in their house, it was slightly off her radar because it wasn't American, but at that same time, Maddy knew her Mom well enough to know that it wouldn't be accepted with open arms into the Stone household. A great big bushy beard. A great big bushy beard. A great big bushy beard.
"A great big bushy beard," she said out loud, staring at the beard. Then she came back to herself with a start. You HAVE to act more normal. He might kill you! Lord, give me strength to overcome this adversary, whoever he may be. If you exist, O Lord, for I have my doubts. If this is hell please give me a sign, and tell me what I did so wrong in my life that I have wound up here. Her eyes widened as she realised that she'd voiced her thoughts. Still, he must get people commenting on his beard all the time! She hoped.
"I'm sorry, still half asleep," Maddy explained in an attempt to make herself sound not crazy, not only to Bearded Man, but also to the cameras and the people watching. Her parents, grandparents, siblings, friends, people at Church. That reminded her, she needed to find Peter. Needed to find out the reason his name was read out on the list that morning. Surely he oculdn't have killed anyone. Not just because he was in GODSpeed (Rachel had made it clear that people in the Christian society weren't exempt from killing anyone), but because she thought she knew him, and the him that she though she knew would not do this. "I'm Maddy, and I'm sorry but I don't know your name." Kill them with kindness.
Maddy's eyes snapped open at the sound of him voice. In front of there was a boy. An angel. She didn't know him, he was vaguely familiar, perhaps she'd seen him in the canteen at school, but no facts about him were springing to mind. All that she knew was that he wasn't dead, and even that wasn't a certainty. They might all be dead. This might be purgatory. Or hell. She'd done everything she could to avoid going to hell for all her life, and yet here she was, with sinners and Christians alike. I wonder what camp this guy falls into.
He was still waiting for a response. A couple of seconds had passed and all she had done was open her eyes and stare at him. That was probably unnerving, and yet she could stop. He had a great big bushy beard. The equivalent line from Hot Fuzz was running through her head. That was a movie that her mother didn't know she'd seen. It wasn't something that had been expressly banned in their house, it was slightly off her radar because it wasn't American, but at that same time, Maddy knew her Mom well enough to know that it wouldn't be accepted with open arms into the Stone household. A great big bushy beard. A great big bushy beard. A great big bushy beard.
"A great big bushy beard," she said out loud, staring at the beard. Then she came back to herself with a start. You HAVE to act more normal. He might kill you! Lord, give me strength to overcome this adversary, whoever he may be. If you exist, O Lord, for I have my doubts. If this is hell please give me a sign, and tell me what I did so wrong in my life that I have wound up here. Her eyes widened as she realised that she'd voiced her thoughts. Still, he must get people commenting on his beard all the time! She hoped.
"I'm sorry, still half asleep," Maddy explained in an attempt to make herself sound not crazy, not only to Bearded Man, but also to the cameras and the people watching. Her parents, grandparents, siblings, friends, people at Church. That reminded her, she needed to find Peter. Needed to find out the reason his name was read out on the list that morning. Surely he oculdn't have killed anyone. Not just because he was in GODSpeed (Rachel had made it clear that people in the Christian society weren't exempt from killing anyone), but because she thought she knew him, and the him that she though she knew would not do this. "I'm Maddy, and I'm sorry but I don't know your name." Kill them with kindness.
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JamesRenard†
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Out of all the things that the girl could have responded to him with, "a great big bushy beard" was certainly not near the top of his list of things to expect. Maybe a "hello" or a "I'm fine, but you look terrible, what happened to you" or even a "get the hell away from me you weirdo/werewolf freak", but not something as random as the state of his beard. In all honesty, the remark had caught him off-guard.
"Um, thanks, I guess?" Garry replied in turn to her, subconsciously stroking his hand through the thick and tangled mass of black facial hair. So she wasn't dead or knocked out after all, she was only asleep and alive and well. And he'd just gone and woken her up. That made him feel like a bit of an ass for disrupting her slumber like that.
"Yeah, uh, sorry for waking you up, Maddy. I'm Garry, or Garou," he introduced himself when she asked. 'Maddy, huh? Where have I heard that name before, haven't I seen you somewhere before as well?' Garry wondered, searching his memory banks to try and find where exactly. 'Oh, wait, I think I know.'
"Hey, um, haven't I seen you hanging around at the ice rink before, you're not on the hockey team, are you?" he asked, as the name and the face came together in his mind. "Yeah, pretty sure I saw your name on the team list somewhere. Maddy... Stone, right?"
He looked down to one side of where Maddy sat and saw a machete lying on the ground, with a cleaver on the opposite side. She had two different weapons. 'Don't jump to conclusions just yet, you had two weapons yourself without killing anyone, until that bitch Clio stole them,' he mentally told himself, though he did take a step backwards, just to be sure. If she did decide to attack him, he wanted a good head start to get away from her. Managing to pin Clio down the day before was just a fluke; if he tried to defend himself with no weapons this time round, he'd just end up being hacked to pieces.
"Um, thanks, I guess?" Garry replied in turn to her, subconsciously stroking his hand through the thick and tangled mass of black facial hair. So she wasn't dead or knocked out after all, she was only asleep and alive and well. And he'd just gone and woken her up. That made him feel like a bit of an ass for disrupting her slumber like that.
"Yeah, uh, sorry for waking you up, Maddy. I'm Garry, or Garou," he introduced himself when she asked. 'Maddy, huh? Where have I heard that name before, haven't I seen you somewhere before as well?' Garry wondered, searching his memory banks to try and find where exactly. 'Oh, wait, I think I know.'
"Hey, um, haven't I seen you hanging around at the ice rink before, you're not on the hockey team, are you?" he asked, as the name and the face came together in his mind. "Yeah, pretty sure I saw your name on the team list somewhere. Maddy... Stone, right?"
He looked down to one side of where Maddy sat and saw a machete lying on the ground, with a cleaver on the opposite side. She had two different weapons. 'Don't jump to conclusions just yet, you had two weapons yourself without killing anyone, until that bitch Clio stole them,' he mentally told himself, though he did take a step backwards, just to be sure. If she did decide to attack him, he wanted a good head start to get away from her. Managing to pin Clio down the day before was just a fluke; if he tried to defend himself with no weapons this time round, he'd just end up being hacked to pieces.
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xylophonefairy†
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Maddy cocked her head to one side. She noticed him notice her weapons. She noticed him take a step backwards, and grinned in spite of herself. Did she really seem... threatening? Then again, he only seemed to regocnise her from hockey and not from GODSpeed, and that was the kind of association that she felt could only serve her well at this point. For all he knew she was a crazy, bloodsucking murderer, though the fact that her name hadn't been read out on any lists was probably abating that one a little bit. Talking of murderer lists... Had he been mentioned? He was called Garry, or Garou apparently. She'd always found people who introduced themselves with both their real name and a nickname a little disconcerting as she never knew which one to use. Instictively, she wanted to use their birth name because, well, she'd only just met them. But if they wanted her to use their birth name, they would have only said that one, right?
Or did he just want to appear cool by having a shiny nickname? Not that she was really one to judge, but then hers was specifically a shortening of her name. His was the same number of syllables as his real name, unless Garry itself was short for something? She couldn't think what that could be though. Garropolous? Garralicious? Garrydoodledoo?
In spite of the fact that he was probably waiting for a response, and that he was not privy to her inner musings, Maddy Stone burst into sudden peals of laughter.
It wasn't her normal laugh, though. She realised this quickly. Usually she had a dainty kind of laugh, silent, with the occasional gulp of air. This was strange, almost manical. Great whooping breaths accompanied by something that could onl be described as a cackle. It scared her, but at the same time, she couldn't stop. For a good couple of minutes, she laughed as though nobody was watching. She knew Garry was. She forgot that all of America was watching her too.
What is happening to me?
It was like she was losing control of herself. Abruptly, the laughing stopped. She couldn't even remember why she'd started. Her eyes were blurry with the tears that had formed in a mixture of laughing and fear at her loss of control, and she looked blearily at Garry and his Great Big Bushy Beard. Still the British West Country accent filled her mind with the line. Thousands of times it pealed over and over, they were layering each other. Millions of beards. The shocked look on Simon Pegg's face. It was all too clear. She was losing her grip on reality.
Garry/Garou was still there. Barely a minute had passed since either of them had spoken, and yet it felt like longer. She could feel herself becoming slowly more and more detached. Picking up a nearby rock, she held it up to the light that was shining off the sea. It really was beautiful in its choppiness. Little flecks of light. Like diamonds. Thousands of diamonds jumping about the place. Like dolphins. Diamond encrusted dolphins. The stone was perfectly smooth, dark grey in colour with a jagged red line running across two thirds of it.
"Stone, the name is indeed Stone," she said quickly, looking at the stone in her hand and holding it out to him so that he could get a better look. She cocked her head to the side again, but it the opposite direction to before, looking at him from a slightly different angle. A great big bushy beard. "So, so you know me from Hockey. Do you play hockey too?"
Maintain normal conversation. A great big bushy beard. If he thinks you're crazy he might try and kill you! Don't let him get at your weapons! Maddy pulled the machete and cleaver in closer to her so that she was almost sitting on them. There they would be safe. Nice and safe. She opened her eyes wide at Garry, awaiting a response to her entirely normal conversation. A great big bushy beard.
Or did he just want to appear cool by having a shiny nickname? Not that she was really one to judge, but then hers was specifically a shortening of her name. His was the same number of syllables as his real name, unless Garry itself was short for something? She couldn't think what that could be though. Garropolous? Garralicious? Garrydoodledoo?
In spite of the fact that he was probably waiting for a response, and that he was not privy to her inner musings, Maddy Stone burst into sudden peals of laughter.
It wasn't her normal laugh, though. She realised this quickly. Usually she had a dainty kind of laugh, silent, with the occasional gulp of air. This was strange, almost manical. Great whooping breaths accompanied by something that could onl be described as a cackle. It scared her, but at the same time, she couldn't stop. For a good couple of minutes, she laughed as though nobody was watching. She knew Garry was. She forgot that all of America was watching her too.
What is happening to me?
It was like she was losing control of herself. Abruptly, the laughing stopped. She couldn't even remember why she'd started. Her eyes were blurry with the tears that had formed in a mixture of laughing and fear at her loss of control, and she looked blearily at Garry and his Great Big Bushy Beard. Still the British West Country accent filled her mind with the line. Thousands of times it pealed over and over, they were layering each other. Millions of beards. The shocked look on Simon Pegg's face. It was all too clear. She was losing her grip on reality.
Garry/Garou was still there. Barely a minute had passed since either of them had spoken, and yet it felt like longer. She could feel herself becoming slowly more and more detached. Picking up a nearby rock, she held it up to the light that was shining off the sea. It really was beautiful in its choppiness. Little flecks of light. Like diamonds. Thousands of diamonds jumping about the place. Like dolphins. Diamond encrusted dolphins. The stone was perfectly smooth, dark grey in colour with a jagged red line running across two thirds of it.
"Stone, the name is indeed Stone," she said quickly, looking at the stone in her hand and holding it out to him so that he could get a better look. She cocked her head to the side again, but it the opposite direction to before, looking at him from a slightly different angle. A great big bushy beard. "So, so you know me from Hockey. Do you play hockey too?"
Maintain normal conversation. A great big bushy beard. If he thinks you're crazy he might try and kill you! Don't let him get at your weapons! Maddy pulled the machete and cleaver in closer to her so that she was almost sitting on them. There they would be safe. Nice and safe. She opened her eyes wide at Garry, awaiting a response to her entirely normal conversation. A great big bushy beard.
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JamesRenard†
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The laughter was something that Garry was not expecting, and it just sounded completely out of place. Garry shuddered slightly, feeling shivers go down his spine. Maddy was seriously starting to creep him out, what with her cocking her head to one side and the aforementioned cackling. 'Has... has she lost her damn mind?' Garry thought, starting to feel very uneasy. He was used to purposefully creeping other people out with his werewolf-related remarks, but he wasn't used to it happening the other way round.
Maddy suddenly reached out and picked up a small rock lying in the sand. Garry flinched, believing she was about to hurl it at his head, bracing himself as the stone was practically shoved in his direction. Apparently it wasn't her intention, she was only showing it to him. 'Maddy Stone holding a stone. How witty.'
"Y-yeah, I'm on the men's team, I play hockey quite a bit, been in a few of the big games as well," Garry responded to her question, and then asking one himself. "Uh, have you seen Sau-?"
Garry would have completed the question, but at that very moment, Maddy had just grabbed the two bladed weapons, pulled them in close to her and then just stared at him. All sorts of alarm bells started ringing in Garry's head upon watching her. "Um, you know, never mind, I'll just look for him myself," he spoke in a near whisper, starting to slowly walk away from the girl, further and further away from the coast with each step. He looked back to her every couple of seconds, just to make sure she wasn't following him, machete and/or cleaver in hand. Once he was a good distance away from her location, he broke into a sprint.
Destination unknown.
((Garry Villette continued in Selfish))
Maddy suddenly reached out and picked up a small rock lying in the sand. Garry flinched, believing she was about to hurl it at his head, bracing himself as the stone was practically shoved in his direction. Apparently it wasn't her intention, she was only showing it to him. 'Maddy Stone holding a stone. How witty.'
"Y-yeah, I'm on the men's team, I play hockey quite a bit, been in a few of the big games as well," Garry responded to her question, and then asking one himself. "Uh, have you seen Sau-?"
Garry would have completed the question, but at that very moment, Maddy had just grabbed the two bladed weapons, pulled them in close to her and then just stared at him. All sorts of alarm bells started ringing in Garry's head upon watching her. "Um, you know, never mind, I'll just look for him myself," he spoke in a near whisper, starting to slowly walk away from the girl, further and further away from the coast with each step. He looked back to her every couple of seconds, just to make sure she wasn't following him, machete and/or cleaver in hand. Once he was a good distance away from her location, he broke into a sprint.
Destination unknown.
((Garry Villette continued in Selfish))
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xylophonefairy†
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You scared him.
Maddy Stone had never scared anybody in her life. Well, she might have a little bit, but never so much that they ran away from her. And he was literally running, she noticed, picking up speed the further away he got. Literally running. Away from me? It was unfathomable, and she'd tried so hard to appear normal. Bushy Beard was gone, she'd already forgotten his name. He'd had a nickname, but she couldn't remember that either.
It was the middle of the day, she checked her watch, one minute past eleven in the morning. It was funny that at home on a weekend (was it the weekend? She didn't know what day of the week it was) she might only be getting up about now, if she managed to wriggle out of Church that was. And yet already that morning she'd walked several miles, run away from seven large bears that may or may not have been real, discovered a bible in her back and scared a bearded hockey player into running away from her. All in all, she felt, a good day's progress so far.
She was trying to ignore the fact that Peter's name had been read out on the morning's announcement. At the time she'd encountered one of the bears and by the time she had registered his name, Danya had moved onto the next item on his sordid agenda. Peter might be dead, or he might have killed someone. She wasn't entirely sure what was worse. As it happened, Rachel getting read out as a murderer no longer surprised her. But Peter? Her heart was yearning for him. His was a comforting presence, he was balanced, quietly religious without feeling a need to proclaim it to the world, and she'd known him for years. She needed to find him. Dead or alive.
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a notebook and ripped out a single sheet, writing haphazardly with her left knee as a table. Some part of her brain that was less crazy than the rest of it was thinking. A great big bushy beard. Oh SHUT UP! She knew that there was a strong possibility she would never see him again, so she decided to write him a letter. Just a short one.
"Dear Peter," she said out loud as she wrote. If I'm going to be crazy I might as well make good TV.
Dear Peter.
If you're reading this it means I haven't found you yet. I might never. I've had guns pointed at my head by three separate people and all the time I was worrying that I might die before I see you. And then I would never get to tell you what you mean to me. As a friend, as a prom date, you've always been there, and I appreciate that.
I think this game is harder for us. Turns out my Mom packed me a bible after all, remember how I said I wasn't going to bother bringing one seeing as I knew it basically off by heart anyway. But she was right. These last few days have been Hell for me, I was starting to wonder if perhaps we'd died and this was purgatory. Now I know it's all a test. And we're losing.
I'm praying for us all. Praying for rescue. I wish I knew the constellations. Maybe that would help them to find us.
Maddy x
Folding up the letter, she put it in her pocket. Somewhere she had a feeling it would never reach him. She was already fighting the temptation to throw it into the sea. To occupy herself, she wrote one to Rachel as well. It was shorter.
Rachel. You are going to hell. Maddy.
Years of frustration at their pseudo friendship came down to seven words. She put that one in her pocket as well. That one she actually wanted to give to her friend. By the nature of the game, one of them at most was going to survive and a sizeable part of her doubted that either of them would. Whether they were recieved by the people they were intended for or not, writing them had calmed her. The realisation while writing Peter's letter about the bible having brought back her faith calmed her the most. I am a Christian. I am here to do God's work. This is a test of His faith in me, and I will pass it. I will.
"I can pass the test," she muttered to herself, collecting her belongings together. First things first, she had to catch up to Bushy Beard and apologise for freaking him out. "I'm only harmlessly crazy," she said out loud, sheathing the machete though a hole she'd made in the left side of her jeans and the cleaver in the right. "Seeing diamond dolphins and running away from imaginary bears. I'm harmess, I haven't hurt anyone yet." Steadying herself against a tree, which was definately a tree and not a bear, she started walking north along the coastline.
((Maddy Stone continued in The Lord's Mercy
Also, thread closed.))
Maddy Stone had never scared anybody in her life. Well, she might have a little bit, but never so much that they ran away from her. And he was literally running, she noticed, picking up speed the further away he got. Literally running. Away from me? It was unfathomable, and she'd tried so hard to appear normal. Bushy Beard was gone, she'd already forgotten his name. He'd had a nickname, but she couldn't remember that either.
It was the middle of the day, she checked her watch, one minute past eleven in the morning. It was funny that at home on a weekend (was it the weekend? She didn't know what day of the week it was) she might only be getting up about now, if she managed to wriggle out of Church that was. And yet already that morning she'd walked several miles, run away from seven large bears that may or may not have been real, discovered a bible in her back and scared a bearded hockey player into running away from her. All in all, she felt, a good day's progress so far.
She was trying to ignore the fact that Peter's name had been read out on the morning's announcement. At the time she'd encountered one of the bears and by the time she had registered his name, Danya had moved onto the next item on his sordid agenda. Peter might be dead, or he might have killed someone. She wasn't entirely sure what was worse. As it happened, Rachel getting read out as a murderer no longer surprised her. But Peter? Her heart was yearning for him. His was a comforting presence, he was balanced, quietly religious without feeling a need to proclaim it to the world, and she'd known him for years. She needed to find him. Dead or alive.
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a notebook and ripped out a single sheet, writing haphazardly with her left knee as a table. Some part of her brain that was less crazy than the rest of it was thinking. A great big bushy beard. Oh SHUT UP! She knew that there was a strong possibility she would never see him again, so she decided to write him a letter. Just a short one.
"Dear Peter," she said out loud as she wrote. If I'm going to be crazy I might as well make good TV.
Dear Peter.
If you're reading this it means I haven't found you yet. I might never. I've had guns pointed at my head by three separate people and all the time I was worrying that I might die before I see you. And then I would never get to tell you what you mean to me. As a friend, as a prom date, you've always been there, and I appreciate that.
I think this game is harder for us. Turns out my Mom packed me a bible after all, remember how I said I wasn't going to bother bringing one seeing as I knew it basically off by heart anyway. But she was right. These last few days have been Hell for me, I was starting to wonder if perhaps we'd died and this was purgatory. Now I know it's all a test. And we're losing.
I'm praying for us all. Praying for rescue. I wish I knew the constellations. Maybe that would help them to find us.
Maddy x
Folding up the letter, she put it in her pocket. Somewhere she had a feeling it would never reach him. She was already fighting the temptation to throw it into the sea. To occupy herself, she wrote one to Rachel as well. It was shorter.
Rachel. You are going to hell. Maddy.
Years of frustration at their pseudo friendship came down to seven words. She put that one in her pocket as well. That one she actually wanted to give to her friend. By the nature of the game, one of them at most was going to survive and a sizeable part of her doubted that either of them would. Whether they were recieved by the people they were intended for or not, writing them had calmed her. The realisation while writing Peter's letter about the bible having brought back her faith calmed her the most. I am a Christian. I am here to do God's work. This is a test of His faith in me, and I will pass it. I will.
"I can pass the test," she muttered to herself, collecting her belongings together. First things first, she had to catch up to Bushy Beard and apologise for freaking him out. "I'm only harmlessly crazy," she said out loud, sheathing the machete though a hole she'd made in the left side of her jeans and the cleaver in the right. "Seeing diamond dolphins and running away from imaginary bears. I'm harmess, I haven't hurt anyone yet." Steadying herself against a tree, which was definately a tree and not a bear, she started walking north along the coastline.
((Maddy Stone continued in The Lord's Mercy
Also, thread closed.))
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