#4: The smell of napalm in the morning

[Slayer†]

OOC: Darnell continued from High Voltage.
IC:

It was some time in the early morning now, judging by the light. Everyone had gotten out of the jail alright, by Darnell's reckoning, though every once in a while he had the nagging feeling that he had left someone behind, though whenever he looked back everyone was there. Boxer had run off on his own when they'd left the jailhouse, but whatever. Shortly after he had found that out he'd also realized that he didn't much care. Didn't care? What kind of fucked up logic was that? People like Boxer, his team, those guys were who he wanted to get off the island. Why wouldn't he care if Boxer had been left behind?

The fucker attacked me at that airfield, and someone that dumb is just a liability.

It was a harsh truth, but walking through the jungle with his friends in tow (after about twenty minutes it had become a small habit to occasionally look back to see if the others were following) he had eventually brought himself around to recognizing it. Aside from his freakish size and incredible strength, Boxer didn't have anything to offer Darnell, Kallie, or Alice, not even enough intelligence to pitch in on escape ideas, and one thing that constantly came to Darnell's mind was the incident at the airfield. Boxer's hands going for his neck, the blows that knocked the giant unconscious.

Damn it! Why couldn't I have just kept my head? For even one second? The guy was distraught, wasn't thinking straight! No, that moron never thinks straight...but he just wanted answers. He wanted a friend, someone who could help him, make him understand what happened. Gah, I should've kept my cool.

Darnell shuddered just remembering the sudden ferocity of his attack, a fresh reminder of what happened when he really stopped reigning his temper in. Then there'd been their interactions at the jail, and just by Boxer's speech and body language Darnell had gotten the vibe that every second around Boxer was another second closer to someone else trying to kill him, and Darnell couldn't trust someone like that. Not around him, and not around his friends. Much like football, rugby, (Keith had convinced him to try it a few times way back, and Darnell liked it enough to play it semi-regularly if not on the actual team, but he stuck with football because that was where he was happiest) and wrestling, he couldn't afford to always be looking behind his back to make sure Boxer wasn't trying to snap his neck while he wasn't looking during this plan. No, he had to always be looking ahead, where the opponent was.

So far the journey had mostly been uneventful. After escaping from the danger zone, he had been able to hook up with Alice and Kallie fairly quickly, Boxer having apparently been overly-literal about his order and dumping Alice just outside of the jailhouse area before going off in whatever direction so that he came across her pretty much as soon as he got out, and Kallie seemed to have followed him when he left. Getting their bearings and making sure everyone's supplies were in the right places, they'd tried to decide what to do. After the idea of finding Keith and then burying what was left of Guy came up, nobody really seemed to argue it, so they'd set off. Darnell elected to lead the way, saying that his reason was that he had the gun and would therefore be better able to fight off attackers, but it was also just because he didn't want to risk losing them (he did not say this), and if someone started shooting at them from the front his body being there to take the shots could be the difference between life and death.

A meatshield...a sacrificial lamb? Since when have I wanted to be one of those?!

It hadn't taken long to find a crude sort of trail, not the same one that spanned the entire island but a good enough path (if muddy), which had greatly increased their progress, as they weren't dodging branches and thorns constantly or always watching for traps or snakes and other such animals. It was a relief that the rain had slowed down, though, as there was less cover from it there. There was occasionally some chatting, especially as the weather became steadily more tolerable or when they'd stopped to rest or whatever, but Darnell didn't know if he was succeeding in gaining any trust in either of them as he hoped he would, though he had at least some confidence that he'd made it clear he wasn't playing and wasn't going to play.

I don't know how many times I've said it and tried to prove it, if she can't see how much I mean it, she just isn't listening.

He'd even promised to tell them exactly what had happened at the airfield, though he said he'd do it later, most likely after they'd found a spot to give Guy's head (which still made part of Darnell want to puke every time he saw it or Alice holding it, and after a while he'd consciously tried to fend off decomposing insects and the like when he saw them) a proper burial, but maybe a bit earlier. To be honest Darnell wanted Keith to be there, but after a while (including straying off the trail to search the jungle surrounding them) he started feeling like they'd searched every nook and cranny of the damn island, and it seemed increasingly less likely they'd run into him soon, which clashed with his desire to let his friends know the truth. He had to tell them though, especially since he'd explicitly promised that he would, every detail he could recall.

And "every" detail is quite a few too many

He had gulped at thinking about that, how just about every second of the incident was still as clear in his head as if it had just happened. It was burned into his brain like the brand on cattle, and refused to leave. It was almost like having a gruesome song stuck in his head. If he didn't talk, though, Kallie and Alice might never trust him, so after that he'd been spending quite a bit of time steeling himself for that inevitable task. Much like the rest of the game, it was one of those trials that showed just who a person was, as his father had always said. God always picked the times of greatest strife in a man's lifetime to reveal to them their true character, whether they are saint or monster, saviour or killer, hero or coward.

I won't let myself be a coward.

Of course, his refusal to back down meant he was dwelling on the killings more, and that made it very difficult for his stomach to actually settle. Though he refused to let anyone be any the wiser he occasionally felt ill thinking about it. Simon's gasped apology, Dan's head rolling on the asphalt, Eduardo impaled on what was technically his own weapon, Boxer collapsing to the ground in a heap, not having expected his team mate to turn on him so viciously. Sometimes he felt as if their spectres were watching him, waiting for a sign of weakness so they could devour his soul, but when he looked there were no spirits. However long they'd actually been going, for Darnell it felt like their trek had taken years.

I wouldn't mind never walking again, if I get out of this game alive.

Eventually though, the travel would come to an end. At first it looked like what they were approaching yet another nondescript clearing, but an odd feeling in his gut gave him the idea that they'd be walking into a trap if they just ran in. It may not have been true, but he was starting to find that the game was really good at making him see ambushes when they weren't there. Either way, the possibility that he was wrong ended up outweighed by a sudden sense of terror that gripped him, fear as much for his friends as for himself, so he'd told them to stay back while he went to check if anything was up ahead.

I'm not sure if I want to be right or if I want to be wrong.

Forcing the thought down, he shifted the bag- earlier he'd gone through his bag and John's to find out which was which, and as much as he hated himself for it he'd sorted through John's bag and taken what he needed, especially the uzi ammo and instruction manual which he'd occasionally stop to read afterwards, distributing the food and water between himself, Kallie, and Alice -on his shoulders and gripped the safety of the Uzi, his hands gripping the gun tightly as his finger rested just outside the trigger guard. He didn't want any accidental discharges, especially after he'd almost filled Ed Sullivan with bulletholes earlier. As he'd learned on the way, the weapon had a shoulder stock that could be opened to help with accuracy, so he did that, the weapon raised to shoulder level and aimed as it was supposed to be, like how the military and cops held submachine guns. In a small crouch, he moved carefully but deliberately and quickly towards the clearing, putting his back to one of the trees near the clearing opening as he reached it. If anyone was there, he clearly hadn't been seen or heard, as nobody called out or fired.

Here we go, Darnell. It's do or die. Possibly both. You were talking about giving your life for your friends, got the balls to put your money where your mouth is?

A few seconds passed as Darnell breathed in, and tentatively put his foot in the opening for an instant. No tripwire, apparently. Leaning around, he raised the gun in front of him so he'd turned to the opening, looking inside the clearing. There was nothing there, just some ditches and what looked like barbed wire. Not thinking too much on it, he stepped forward and turned/leaned to the right, so he was looking into that side of the clearing but still using the trees as cover and keeping his gun up. Nothing there except more barbed wire and ditches and mud, and the same results (except for a couple larger ditches that looked like small trenches) when he looked to the left. It was nothing more than what looked like a more travelled part of the jungle. Well, now he felt a bit dumb, but at least there wouldn't be any bullets flying at him. Relaxing and standing back up, he released the grip saftety with a sigh, closing the gun's shoulder stock as the weapon hung limply from his side, in the grip of his right hand.

His right wasn't what he was looking at though, his eyes temporarily found themselves transfixed on his left hand. The open left hand he couldn't help but hold in front of himself. Was he just tripping? Was all this a bad high? Part of him hoped so, it would explain everything so well, but he couldn't see anything odd with his hand. Not that he'd done any acid before, but he'd heard that you could tell if you were tripping by looking at your hand and seeing if there was any "trailing". There wasn't any, just the left hand he'd been born with. One of the hands that had done so much for him in his life. Fought, made love, studied, manipulated, eaten, even killed. His two hands were the ones that ended three lives. If those hands hadn't existed three people would still be alive. He loved his hands, but at the same time he hated them and wanted to destroy them.

At least, he supposed, there wasn't blood on them this time. It had been a couple hours ago, he'd had to go to the bathroom, especially since he'd been holding it in for a while, so he'd given the gun to Kallie and gone off behind some trees to urinate. When he'd done that and gotten his pants back on and everything though, he found his hands entirely covered in blood. Some fresh, some old, some hardened, some still liquid, some parts almost like molasses. Just the horrid dark red blood everywhere as he gasped loudly and tried to shake it off. Some bits flicked off, but most stayed put, refusing to move. His pulse pouinding, he couldn't figure out why there was blood all over his hands, as if he'd disemboweled somebody with them, and eventually he had cried out something along the lines of "Oh my God!" and tried to run back to where he was, only to trip and see the bloody hands again.

Eventually he'd either made his way back to the group or they had gone to see if he was all right, but by then the blood had disappeared. He was asked what had happened, so he simply said how it was. For a few seconds, there was blood absolutely covering his hands for no reason. He could smell it, feel it, it was almost as if it were real, but then it disappeared. Hesitantly taking the gun and his things back, he'd tried to look as if nothing had happened, but he was sure he had never really been able to get rid of that visibly shaken look about him, and sometimes when he wasn't looking carefully sometimes he thought he saw a coat of red on his hands.

"Stupid hallucinations...can't let the game get to me. Danya must've drugged the water or something..."

The muttering only helped him a little, but it was enough to break him from his seconds' long trance directed at his hand, which had no blood on it at all. Forcing his thoughts down, he called out.

"Hey, Kal! Alice! You still there? Area's clear, come on up! Just watch your step, there's barbed wire laying about for whatever reason."

Backing up, he waited for them to come after him in the clearing or...whatever the place he'd ended up in was. He probably looked like hell now, but the face he put on was confident, if a bit tired. He owed them that much, he couldn't fail either of them by showing weakness now.

[LadyMakaze†]

Alice followed behind with difficulty. Kallie and Keith both knew...she was no good when it came to navigating, even if it entailed only following another like a lost puppy with nary a clue in which direction she was even headed towards. If it weren't for that she was terrified of the thought of being lost and alone right now, she might have been wandering aimlessly elsewhere by this point in time.

She kept ahold of her duffel bag, keeping silent as always, eyes downcast and not quite looking anywhere except for her own feet, shoulders hunched over, movements timid and conservative...

Alice looked around somewhat worriedly. Darnell had wandered off suddenly, and he was the one she'd been tailing after for a while. But of course he came back soon enough, which eased her worries somewhat...

"I'm...I'm here..." She affirmed to him, in her tiny voice.

And soon Keith and Kallie would be following them, and Guy too-

Alice blinked catching her own thoughts. Well, as an exception, Guy was.... not exactly able to follow.

It had seemed only a few minutes since they'd somehow convinced her that they ought to bury him. She'd watched as they'd dug a whole and covered him in earth, hiding him like he was some dead thing that they found repulsive, and leaving it to rot with the rest of nature's refuse.

She obeyed Darnell's words and steered clear of the barbed wire, moving towards him a bit. For now...since Guy couldn't lead her anywhere now, she'd follow these people instead. For now...

Were they friends? Alice wasn't sure of it. They certainly weren't friend enough for her to have an open conversation with them. Then again, knowing Alice...the same went for just about anybody, didn't it?

Looking towards Darnell with a thoughtful frown on her face, she decided...now matter how she felt about them in the end, there were some things she simply wouldn't say to them.

Like how she truly felt right now...

Or what she truly thought about them...

Or what she really felt about the decision they made 'together' to bury Guy...

...Or even the fact that as they turned their backs, she'd stayed behind to dig up burial, remove the buried head (already smouldering in the earth with a worm halfway up its nostril), and quietly place it back into her daypack...

Alice never said much, but even so, there were some things she'll never ever say.

She shifted uncomfortably, adjusting the strap of her daypack, which had grown to be a heavy burden on her shoulder, as she waited for the group to gather.

[Slayer†]

Darnell and Alice had been waiting in this strange part of the jungle for a couple days, now, waiting for Kallie to show up. She never did, though, and minute by minute Darnell felt the concern and impatience pry at his mind and his will to continue. Then there was how Alice was acting, which was making Darnell nervous. He'd never really spoken much to the girl, but it just didn't seem right, and when he did talk to her it gave him a bad vibe, and made him suspicious about the fact that he knew he had left Alice and Kallie together when scouting out this part of the jungle.

The announcement drove any patience he had right over the edge. Letting out a low growl, he exploded to his feet, rounding on Alice with a fierce glare. She had to have done something to Kallie, or she'd have been there by now. With so many people dead, he couldn't bear the thought that he had potentially endangered Kallie's life by allowing this crazy girl to be alone with her.

"You bitch," he said to Alice, his tone low and threatening. "You god damn BITCH! I trust you, I bring you along with me in looking for Keith, and this is how you repay me?! Don't fucking lie to me, I know either you did something to Kal, or let her get lost! What, are you fucking blaming us for Guy dying?! Is that it?! Well, news flash, lady; EVERYONE is dying, not just Guy! He was my fucking friend! Him and Keith, they were like my brothers, you think I'd let them die?! FUCK you!"

Darnell was plainly too upset to listen to reason, instead finding his sword --the sword that'd killed three people, he remembered with a shudder-- and hefting it up. For a second it looked like he'd slash Alice with it, but instead he tossed it to her feet. "I'm going after her, you've done enough damage. Take that so you can defend yourself if you need it; from here on, I don't give a fuck what you do or what happens to you."

With that, Darnell picked up his bag, the Uzi, and headed off into the jungle.

OOC: Darnell continued in Freedom or Bust.

[SOTF_Help]

"I can't believe my ass is running around this place for fucking Garnett."

The mess of copper hair known as Chevalier can't help sighing as realization dawns and disappointment etches through features that it seems all the smokes have run out and a glance to the four men behind says they've probably been converted to cigars like half of everyone in the organization. Eyes rolling a gloved hand runs through short hair and then with a flick of the wrist Squad 2 is back to moving again through the dense jungle that covers a majority of the island on their search for the before mentioned missing Garnett as well as the reason why so many of the students are suddenly dying in this area and this area alone when barely anything had been happening up until those few days ago when their whole system decided to kill over and left them as in the dark as the kids on this island are.

It's not long before an odd sound catches Chevalier's ears and the hand is raise again this time to stop the group from continuing, blinking somewhat and staining to hear... talking, someone seemed to be talking and by the sound of it—it defiantly wasn't going to be Garnett that they'd come up on.

Nevertheless with a raise of the hand Chevalier sent two one way slightly to the left of their current location and the other two moving slightly to the right just to be sure that whoever... or whomever they were coming up on wouldn't have the chance for an ambush to strike all of them. Taking a moment to right the gun hanging to the side, not terribly preferring it to the usual weapon of choice but there wasn't a lot of choice in the matter today...

Moving forward, slightly through the overgrowth and jungle until it broke and opened into this wide space covered in rusted barbed wire and a few trenches here and there... Chevalier's attention though is on the figure sitting about seven feet away. Somewhat hunched over in place, covered with mud and what else and seeming to be muttering up a storm of words that Chevalier can't fully hear clearly.

The small figure seemed to have heard the movement though and slowly lifts her head—deep, almost wild eyes staring back as Chevalier finally gets a good look at just what the girl had been holding in her lap and most likely muttering to the whole time. A head... a decomposing head at that, smudged with dirt and dark from the on-setting decay. Not quite sure what to think until the movement starts and the girl rises to her feet, almost smiling before lunging—

Chevalier doesn't bother to see what purpose the girl might have had before lodging a bullet behind her eyes with a small "Oops" leaving lips, eyeing with a small frown as the head dropped and rolled a few inches before the corpse of the girl followed... even in death seemingly trying to hold it with how her body fell.

Sighing a little and really needing a smoke, Chevalier waits a moment as the squad comes together before speaking into the radio. "Chevalier here, we ran into an issue but the subject as been terminated."

Nodding somewhat as the base confirms back the woman nods before glancing back to the squad she's in charge where Rosemarie Chevalier finds herself unable to help smiling a bit, "Just remember their lives don't matter-they're here to die anyway, why can't we have a little fun while we're here?"

Without another word she turns and signals for them to follow, continuing to the set location.

G024 -- Alice Jones -- Dead

[[ Chevalier and Squad 2 continued elsewhere~~ ]]

[SOTF_Help]

((Footage Continued in Camera #5))