Beast of Burden

[Brackie]

((Ma'afu Tuigamala continues from I Will Follow You into the Dark))

Maf had dipped in an out of conscious for most of the descent, but eventually came to a stop at the bottom of the mountain. His body had long since given up any premise of staying awake.

His body finally turned stationary against a stump, bleeding, and unconscious.

[Fanatic†]

((Jason Harris continued from I Will Follow You into the Dark))

Jason didn't wait for a response from Nathan and begun hastily working his way down the mountainside. He skidded slightly as scree kicked up from his movements tumbled down the embankment and narrowly avoided a few of the larger rocks that scattered in his wake. Glad for his previous outdoor forays it took him less than a minute to wind his way down to the bottom of the mountainside where Maf lay ominously still. Pulling up sharply Jason ran to the unconscious boy and bent down to check his pulse feeling around on his neck. Maf looked terrible, blood was oozing from several wounds and his body was covered with bruises, gashes and all manner of cuts. Fumbling Jason closed his eyes and counted.

"One, two, three." He couldn't hear a pulse. The thundering sound of his own heartbeat drowned out any possibility of picking out Maf's sounds of life. "Shit." Jason cussed as he risked a quick look around. "No, no no no. This is not happening." He gritted his teeth; he was going to have to perform CPR.

Oh this is bullshit, I haven't even kissed a girl

As he bent down a movement gave him pause. He wasn't sure that it happened but it was enough to give him pause. There it was again. Ever so slightly Maf's chest heaved in and out and Jason breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank fuck for that.

Maf was alive, but he was hurt. Hurt badly. He could have a concussion, a broken limb, all manner of damage to his body and his life could still hang in the balance. Jason wasn't a doctor, not by any means but at the moment he was the best Maf had and he wasn't going to let his friend down.

"You hold on mate, I'm going to get you out of this." He wasn't sure if Maf could hear him, but it was as much for himself as it was for his friend. He refused to believe that Maf, the strongest person he knew would perish on this island. He didn't look strong now though.

A thought slipped unwanted in to the back of Jason's head.

or... you could just kill him now. Jason shut the voice out, but it lingered for a moment before fading away.

"Ok lets see, what was it?" he mused. "Check for bones, damages to the neck, shortness of breath." This wasn't a safe place. People could come by at any second he had to move Maf. Slipping one of Maf's burly arms over his shoulder Jason hoisted the boy up.

"Oooof." Maf was dead weight and 260 poorly distributed pounds was not something Jason could lift for very long, regardless of how well prepared he was for it. Given his current state of health this was intensified further and Jason felt a spasm run down his left side. "You weigh a fucking tonne mate," he muttered as he tried to keep his balance. As he glanced around for his pack Jason froze catching sight of a shadow. A shadow of a person standing close behind him with a gun raised.

"Oh shit."

[GregTheAnti-Viking†]

((Nathan Choultard continued from I Will Follow You into the Dark))

Nathan Choultard's decent down the mountain was slow and filled with hesitations. His breathing began to rise and fall erratically and he could not keep his hand from shaking.

He saw the body from where the grizzly scene had taken place and for a moment, he was unsure as to what it was. At first it was a mere body, one without a name and in the distance, it had no face. As he drew nearer, he felt his breath growing thin. He knew the face. It was Maf' and Nathan felt his grip tighten around his gun.

Jason was panicking overtop of the body., raming his hands into Maf's chest and leaning in to his head. He knew what it was, it was CPR. It caused Nathan to freeze. This was the same man that killed Tiffany Baker. And yet the man that saved their lives in the warehouse. And even then, the man that casually looted bodies and ate the food that they had carried. These thoughts looped into Nathan's head making it burn.

Jason lifted up Maf's body and started to lumber away from him.

Nathan took in some air and closed his eyes. Jason was leaving, but Nathan needed answers. He gulped and took gentle steps.

Crunch.

Jason turned his head.

"Oh shit."

Those two words made Nathan's blood go cold. Any thought that had gone into his head had been sucked away. His right hand continued to convulse as if he was being pulled back and forth by an invisible string.

Air was something that he struggled to find now. The air that he so desperately needed to soak in. The air he needed to think.

His hand finally raised up and pointed, aiming at what was his friend. Was it still now? Nathan had no answer.

His hand struggled to keep itself pointed at the two of them. It sagged and Nathan lifted his left arm up in an attempt to settle himself. To no avail

"Bro...I need you to stand still, put Maf down and your hands in the air."

Hesitation. It made Nathan's heart skip a beat. But it seemed that Jason quietly acknowledged his request and gently placed Maf on the ground into safety. As safe as he was in the attendance of someone so dangerous. A vauge concept at best...

This is the right idea....right?

"I need answers Jason! Why? Why the fuck did I hear you on the announcements! What happened when we split?"

Nathan gulped. Why wouldn't his hands just stay fucking put.

[Fanatic†]

Jason had taken a sharp intake of breathe when he turned around, preparing to plead with his assailant not to shoot. Once he did however, he experienced the broadest array of emotions he had ever encountered in his life. The surge of relief he felt course through his body was immediately and jarringly wrenched from his mind upon seeing the slim pistol clutched in Nathan's trembling hands. He opened his mouth to speak but Nathan cut him off. The cracking of his friend's voice as he issued commands was more than enough to encourage Jason to keep silent. Regardless of the relationship a person behind the gun it was never a good idea to make any sudden movements.

In most cases of murder the victim usually knows the assailant

The useless fact sped past Jason's mind as he slowly and deliberately placed Maf's body on the ground. He risked a short look to ensure the Fijian was lying comfortably before standing up once more keeping his eyes locked on Nathan's.

As Nathan sent the flurry of accusations Jason's way he gathered his thoughts. He felt a pang of guilt when Tiffany's name was mentioned then an odd sensation of anger. Brook was still out there and every second wasted here meant that he could be in a situation he couldn't escape. Still, Nathan deserved an explanation. Jason paused to organise his speech before opening his mouth.

"Nath, mate. You know me." Each word, each sentence came out deliberately and fully enunciated. "Tiffany was an accident. She had a gun and Brook didn't see."

He paused again, his eyes flicking towards Nathan's shaking hands, pistol clutched in a vice like grip.

"I didn't even mean to shoot her. Just a warning shot to get Brook away. Brook can tell you." His friend's eyes darted to the top left.

A visual cue for processing an imaginary scenario. He's considering doing something. Please let it be putting the gun down.

"We barely got away. Everyone's gone nuts. Everyone but us Nath. I'm not sure what happened to Brook. We got separated and I'm sure if we find him he can explain everything. " Jason slowly moved his hands up with his palms outward. "I know it sounds bad Nathan, but you have to trust me. I promised you at the beginning that we'd get through this together."

Jason took a tentative step forward. "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking what would Geoffrey do? You're thinking Geoffrey would set out and win, no compromises. The thing is. Geoffrey's not here Nathan. You are. You're better than you give yourself credit for. I've said it once and I'll say it again. We need to work together to get out of this. We're friends. This shitty situation won't, can't change that."

Jason paused once more, letting his words sink in. "You asked me to explain and I did. Lower the gun. Someone could come across us at any minute and shoot us; Reiko, Kris, Maxwell, any of the others. We have to find Brook and make sure Maf is safe. Lower the gun. You're not a killer. You're better. You're Nathan Choultard and I'm Jason Harris. Track Runners, students. Friends."

Suddenly a loud voice cut across the air.


A finger twitched in shock.


Not everyone forgets to take the safety off.



Jason's eyes widened.

[GregTheAnti-Viking†]

Nathan's lips flexed and his arms flinched when Jason first spoke. He knew him? He was starting to doubt that claim. And yet he said it was an accident. It was so sincere his words. His explanation of it being a warning shot gone wrong only made him feel more lost than before. It all made sense...but how could he know if it was true. Brook wasn't here to testify, and he's the one that out and out had...how many kills? He couldn't even think of it anymore.

He was still struggling to hold the gun up. It was light, and yet the weight it carried was unbareable. He kept adjusting his grip, beads of sweat making the rubber grip grow slick. But he couldn't let go. What if it was all a lie?

Nathan gulped when Jason put his hands in the air, opened palmed. No chance of being shot now. Now he had all the power for sure now. And the power scared him. What was he supposed to do?

In response to Jason stepping forwards, Nathan found himself stepping back, his foot being stopped by a fallen log. He bit his lower lip at Jason's words. He read him like a fucking book. Of course he was thinking about fucking Geoffrey. It was always Geoffrey! His Mom and Dad would probably be seeing him on TV right now and wondering if he'd get back home so that they could get him on the track again! Just to show their oldest what a mistake it was to stop track in college! Geoffrey wouldn't have played the game though. Would he?

"We have to find Brook and make sure Maf is safe. Lower the gun. You're not a killer. You're better."

Nathan found his body relaxing. He felt his arms starting to droop.

"You're Nathan Choultard and I'm Jason Harris. Track Runners, students. Friends."

"Jason I..."

A loud screeching sound was heard and Nathan found himself trying to move back, but he fell back, tripping on the fallen log. His fingers slipped.

Bang.

He was now staring up at the blue sky, white clouds drifting lazily upon the endless canvas. His arms were still in front of him, with his gun pointing up in the air. His back ached as he lay there, pain surging throughout his body. His heart began to rush erratically, like he had just sprinted on the track.

For a few seconds, Nathan lay there his gaze unfocused and his thoughts drifted along like the clouds before him. Then, a low ringing sound took over, and Nathan's gaze focused back on his weapon. He let out a gasp, and lifted his body up as fast as he could, a mistake when he felt the soreness in his back rise up in complaint. He turned his head and looked to where Jason stood. He had stood back, as if he was ready to flee the area, but he looked unharmed.

Nathan looked back to his gun with horror. What had he done? He had fired this gun. Had it not been for that log...

Nathan dropped the gun and backed away from it, as if it was going to fire again if he had so much as kept close to it. He propelled himself away using his hands, and kicked away with his legs. He felt the sting of rocks and forest debris on his hands, but he did not care for that now. He just had to move away from it.

His back touched another log and only then did he relax. At least, as much as he could possibly relax now. He looked up to Jason, but now Nathan had distanced himself so far away that he could not read his face, his glasses smudged by dust and oily fingerprints.

"Jason..." he said, unsure of how loud it had been, he heard nothing over the ringing. Not the sound of his own voice, nor the sound of the announcement that had started to ring out for a second time.

"I repeat. My name is Jaxon Jeremiah. I'm here with a group of people who can get your collars off and take you home, on one condition: that you have not been murdering your classmates over the past week. If that describes you, and you want a lift, come to the beach as quickly as you can. We won't be here for long..."

[Fanatic†]

Jason's ears hummed with the after effects of the loud noise of Nathan's gun going off and he stood stock still for a second. Nathan, his friend, had almost killed him. If not for that simple piece of wood he'd have a neat bullet hole right through his chest. Jason's expression grew stormy for a moment as Nathan scuttled away dropping the gun from his fingers, letting it fall in to the sand.

In less than a moment Jason's angry glare was turned to one of resolute purpose as he began to stride over towards Nathan pausing at the pistol on the ground. Bending over he carefully picked it up before continuing on until he stood towering over his friend, his eyes stone cold. Nathan had shot at him. There was only one thing left to do.

Nathan reached up to rub the dirt away from his hand as Jason's shadow blotted out the evening sun beating down in the small clearing. A glint of light flashed blinded Nathan momentarily as he looked upwards in to the barrel of his own gun. Jason's lips were shaped in to a frown and his brow was furrowed, his hand resting all too comfortably on the trigger of Nathan's Firestar pistol.

"Nath." He said, his voice slow and deliberate, with none of the warmth that had come before. The barrel of the pistol was aimed directly at Nathan's head. From this range there was no way Jason could miss.



"Wrong move."


Nathan squeezed his eyes tight. This was it.










"...mate."

Then nothing.

Nathan cracked an eye open. Jason still stood above him but something was different. The pistol had turned in Jason's hands. This time it's handle was pointed towards him, offered back to him like a dog bringing him the dead corpse of a racoon it had found. Jason simply didn't understand Nathan wanted no part of that gun. The Australian's face had changed from the cold heartless facade to one grinning from ear to ear like he had just pulled off the prank of the century.

Jason offered his hand out to Nathan, glancing away briefly, his head cocked listening to the voice on the wind. "Well, at least I know you know how to fire the gun right?" Jason looked back at Nathan. "Well come on then, we've got to get to these boats. Maf isn't going to carry himself and we've got to find Brook too, no many left behind and all that jazz as you American's like to say."

It felt weird but Jason was strangely detached from the situation. It was like his emotions had distanced themselves somehow. Every thought was pragmatic. How would they get to the boats, what the time was, who to look out for. There would be enough time to break down when they were all safe. Things had not changed. Protect your friends; the only thing that was different now was that they had a chance of survival. Jason wasn't going to let Nathan, Brook or Maf pass that up.

He felt Nathan's hand clasp his.

"Lets go."

[GregTheAnti-Viking†]

Nathan watched as Jason strode closer towards him, there was a purpose in his strides. He only stopped to pick up the gun. Nathan found a growing desire to flee the scene, and yet he found himself still sitting there.

As he strode closer, he could recognize the expression on his friends face. Fury, fury at what had just taken place. Fully justified, the way Nathan had looked at it. He gulped down another glob of spit and stared up at the man with the gun. It was such an odd look, his anger. On his own recollection, Nathan had never seen the Australian show anything but a smile. Upon looking at him now, it was something he had never wished to see. But here it was.

It was clear to him now that he had made a grave mistake. He should have turned back on the mountain. He would have never been in this position. But, like everything else he had done on this island. He had fucked it all up.

"Wrong move."

He felt the moisture develop in his eyes. He shut them closed.

I know...

He wanted to blame everyone else. Danya. His parents. Geoffrey. But in the end, all he could do was blame himself...

"...mate."





There was no sound. No sudden rush of pain either. Was he taunting him? Why wouldn't he fucking shoot him and get it over with?

He peaked open, the surge of light, nearly causing him to close it again. Jason's face was no longer scowling at him. His face was as Cheshire-like as ever, as if he had swallowed a canary. Nathan opened his other eye to see the whole view. His gun, the gun Jason had picked up was pointed at him, with the barrel pointing back at his grinning friend.

Nathan's eyes darted from the gun to his friend and he repeated this motion several times. This still left him puzzled. What had just happened? Did he spare him? Why? Wasn't he a killer? A killer wouldn't do something like this though? He found no answers, just an endless loop of questions and statements that made his head surge with fire.

His gaze returned to the gun. It seemed to be an offering. Jason at least said as much to him. His face furrowed as if he had swallowed the very gun that was being offered to him. He had almost killed his best friend with this weapon, and in return he had be spared from being shot with it by this friend (a mystery he was still trying to solve). He didn't want the gun. He was too afraid of what would happen now if he took it back.

His gaze turned to the body of the Fijian when Jason brought him up. Jason mentioned something about boats, but his head was still in a haze too thick to understand what he meant. He was right on one thing though, Maf needed their help right now. He turned back to Jason. The smile was so off-putting now, it made Nathan hesitate, for a moment, as if taking Jason's outstretched hand was going to choke him seconds later. And yet, there was something compelling him to grab it.

Jason pulled him up and patted his back. Placing the gun in Nathan's hand. The safety had been pulled, preventing it from firing again.

"Lets go."

Nathan said nothing, merely nodding. Jason had already taken the lead and rushed to take the huge Fijian's left side. Nathan was still stuck in that foggy mist as placed the gun in his backpack. He had hoped to bury it with all of his possessions, but it was sparse, and in the end, not very effective. He gulped and looped the backpack around his shoulders.

He rushed over to join Maf and Jason and helped his friend up with a loud grunt. He had muscles in his legs, not his arms.

Jason was saying many things now, things that Nathan only partially understood. Giving only one word sounds of agreement to whatever it was that he had said. The two of them had started to carry Maf away.

Nathan was still lost in thought.

Death. Boats. You can fire a gun. Boats. Geoffrey. Boats...





Wait...boats!

((Nathan Choultard, Ma'afu Tuigamala and Jason Harris continued in The Cavalry Arrives))