SOTF Archive/SOTF Classic

"Fuckin' coward. What do you want?"

That was the word from the Incredible Hulk, who had actually seen combat from the likes of it, given how he was bruised and bleeding. The "coward" remark irked Zubin a little, but it consistently occurred to Zubin that other than being dirty, unkempt, and a little malnourished, he was doing pretty well. So being a coward was okay with him. He was the coward who wasn't hurt.

"Well, what I was looking for was a place to rest. What I nearly got was a chair to the face, so I dodged him before you happened in and earned his wrath with an innocent question." Zubin shrugged. "I am, however, looking for partners, or whatever you'd like to call me. I just need to team up with someone who isn't a psycho."

Oh, crap. Did he just offer to become a bullet sponge for Tyler?

Tyler stared at Zubin with blood still trickling down his face, dripping from his fingertips, oozing down his belly and staining his white undershirt, seeping through the bandages on his left ankle.

He jerked his head down at Cooper.  "Last I saw him, he was tryin' to save a friend," Tyler grunted.  "Cody and Lizzy fuckin' killed each other, and he's still here.  It's all psychos now."

He shrugged.  "What's the fuckin' point, Zubin?" he asked.  "Even if you find someone who ain't fuckin' psycho, how's it end?"

How does it end? That was the question.

"I don't know. I wanted to flip off the guys in charge, but I couldn't find anyone willing to do it. Now, I'm just trying to survive this thing without too much trauma. I guess it just depends on how we want it to go down. I haven't saved anybody, but that's mainly because I haven't been in any position to do so. I've just been staying out of the way, and I've kinda liked it. But it won't be that simple now. Two people are better than one. If we're the final two, we can fight it out like men. Least keep our dignity that way."

Zubin hated rambling.

Tyler cocked his head.  A faint grin played at his features.  "Huh," he said.  "You're smarter than you look."

He looked up past Zubin, towards the morning sky.  "Ain't a bad thought," he admitted.  "Fight like men. Flippin'em off. Lotta good thoughts."  He snorted. "Ran into this asshole the first day I was out here, though he could beat the game.  Stupid sonofa..."  He shrugged. "I get wantin' to take them," he said. "It's a good thought. But this ain't a fuckin' game. It's prison. You don't piss of the guards, because they decide..."  He sighed.  "Gotta do what you can while you're doin' your time."

He looked around, then grimaced.  "Had a good talk with a girl around here.  Rachael."  His grimace deepend.  "Last time I saw Lizzy, too.  Now they're both..."

He trailed off, and stared back at .  "Come on," he grunted.  "I gotta patch myself up 'fore this shit gets infected."

He limped towards the doors of the school without looking at Zubin.

Tyler was, astoundingly receptive to the idea. At the very least, his disagreement seemed respectful and not punctuated with any fists, sharp objects, or gunfire. He actually headed off to get patched up. Seemed like a good idea. Zubin just followed Tyler as he went for supplies and prevent an infection.

Limping as he left droplets of blood--his and Cooper's both--flecking on the dusty tile, Tyler cast his grimacing gaze around.  It didn't take him long to find the old nurse's office, marked with a peeling red cross just down from administration.  He shoved his way inside and rummaged through cabinets until he found a small roll of bandages and an old bottle of rubbing alcohol with a little left at the bottom.  He shook the bottle a couple of times, then sank heavily into a cushioned chair that had been ripped open.  He set his gun down in easy reach, then started unwinding the bandages around his ankle.

"How would you flip them off?" Tyler asked.

"How would you flip them off?"

Great. Now he had to find some way to communicate his old plan. Zubin just held up one finger as he took out his pad and pen and started writing on a blank piece of paper.

I WOULD HAVE TRIED TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO DEFUSE THE EXPLOSIVES IN THE COLLARS ONLY. WOULD HAVE HAD TO FIND SOME WAY TO HIDE ANY ACTION OR EVIDENCE OF SAID ACTIONS. MY ONLY PLAN THAT I FELT I COULD STATE IN PUBLIC DIDN'T OVER TOO WELL WITH ANYONE ELSE. WAY TOO OFFENSIVE. IF THE PLAN HAD WORKED, WE COULD HAVE WAITED OUT THE GAME, AND WHEN THEY FIGURED OUT WHAT HAPPENED, WE COULD BUNKER UP WITH AS MANY WEAPONS AS POSSIBLE.

Zubin showed him his pad.  Tyler grimaced at it as he finished unwinding the bandages from his leg, exposing the jagged wound, dribbling blood down his ankle and into his filthy socks.  He slowly opened the bottle of rubbing alcohol, then poured a little of it into the wound, hissing through his gritted teeth.

"Wouldn't work," he grunted.  "This is their prison."  He jerked his head, indicating the area around them.  "You don't get to prison break."

He lifted his ratty shirt over his head and tossed it to one side, so the ragged bite marks in the center of his muscular chest were clearly visible.  He poured the rest of the rubbing alcohol into the chest wound, hissing again.  When the bottle was empty, he set to work bandaging both wounds.

"You really think you got a shot at getting out of here alive?" he asked.

"Thought so." Zubin sat down on the ground. "Just saw it done the last time when they got about thirty people out." Zubin looked away from Tyler as he took off his shirt, showing that someone, probably Cooper, had gone zombie on him, and tried to eat him.

"Would I be able to survive?" Zubin shrugged. "Yeah. I've only been in a serious incident three times. Cooper was one, I was allied with Brian Zhdanovich when he was killed, although I was woken up by the gunshot and not at any risk of getting hit, and Mara kicked me in the testicles because I happened upon her naked. If I got to the final two, it would be by staying out of the action, thus keeping myself in better condition physically. If the other person left was you or someone like you, I'd fight fair. If it was someone like Hansel, Katarina, or Travis, I'd try to sneak up on them to get the last kill." He sighed.

"It sounds cowardly, yeah, but my weapons are a two-by-four and a rock. I'd never survive a protracted fight like this."

"Heh," Tyler breathed, as he finished patching up his chest and turned his attentions back to his ankle.  "For what it's worth, I'd give you a fair fight.  No guns, unless you had one.  Just you and me."

He tightened the bandages around his ankle, then leaned heavily back into his chair.  His face was a little pale, and his breath wheezed a little.

"Someone's got to put Travis down," he growled.  "Kid like that...he used Cassidy as a fuckin' shield."  He shook his head.  "Don't know about Marcus. Maybe he did do Rachael like Danya said, maybe he didn't. I'd like to find. And Williams..."

He trailed off and stared at the ceiling.  "I dunno," he said.  "He's got the right instincts.  Doesn't hesitate.  Fights like he god damn means it.  But he's cold."

Silence, as he stared up at the ceiling.  Then his eyes drifted back to Zubin.  There was no trace of a smile on his face.  "If you really think you can make it out of here," Tyler said.  "You shouldn't hang around me."  He shrugged.  "I'm doin' this my way.  I ain't aiming to make it out of here."  He shook his head again.  "If I make it to the end...hell, worse ways we could do it than a clean fight.  But I ain't a winnin' partner."  His grin flickered back to life.  "Think I might be one of the fuckin' psychos."

Zubin had to laugh at that. Given how they were talking, Zubin was thinking that Tyler was smart in his own way. Also, if he was telling the truth, he was almost clean too.

"Now that's a load of bullshit. You still have some sort of conscience, and you can seriously tell me that a psycho wouldn't want a fair fight? Hell no. As the assholes up there said, we're getting to the wire now, man. Staying out of trouble is going to get harder and harder, even if you try. Best to team up to either avoid it or prepare for it. I'd rather have you beside me than Hansel or Travis, and I'd definitely hate to be alone if they come by."

Tyler grinned.  "Says the man with the two-by-four," he said.  "What the fuck do I get out of it?  Fair fuckin' fight?  We could do that right now."

His grin widened. "Everyone's got a conscience, Zubin," he said.  "Even the psychos.  No one just does random shit.  We all got our code."

And his grin widened further still, assuming a predatory, dangerous edge.  "So here's the question, Zubin.  I'm aiming to enjoy myself, since we're all fucked anyways.  Sounds to me like you're aiming to live, and you want me for protection. Maybe that can work for ya.  I saw it work in juive, and this is a fuckin' prison."  He leaned forwards, his eyes glittering.  "But it only works in juvie when the other guy can give you something, Zubin."

"Then what do you want?"

Tyler grinned.  "I want to fuckin' enjoy myself," Tyler said.  Then his grin flickered out.  "And take out the fuckers who don't get that message.  People like Travis."  

Joey was still frozen. He hadn't made a move since Tyler came into view. Time seemed to stand still as Joey fought his body to get up and move.

*SMASH*

The noise caused Joey to flinch in fear. He watched as Cooper hit the ground with a sickening snap and thud. Shortly thereafter Tyler came and finished the job.

Fuck...fuck...jesus...

Joey's grip on his swords intensified. This was a truly dangerous person less than 60 yards away from him. Tyler was distracted by an approaching Zubin.

Jesus christ Zubin, get out of there, you're going to get yourself killed man.

Joey's panicked thoughts raced through his head. Zubin was about to meet the same fate as Cooper....any second now....annnny second now...

Instead of what should have been another massacre, Zubin and Tyler slowly made their way back into the school.

"Are they together? What the hell?" Joey whispered under his breath.

After he was sure they were out of sightline, Joey grabbed his bag and made his way towards the building as quietly as he could. He had to know if these two were a team. They were down to just a handful of people left, and if people were teaming up, that was a danger Joey had to be aware of.

He made his way to where Cooper lay, in a puddle of blood surrounded by glass and debris. Joey fought against his gag reflex and he ducked under the window sill, keeping his ears as strained as possible.

Finally he came to a window where he could hear the voices of the boys inside. It was muffled, but not enough to where Joey couldn't pick out some key words like 'I want to fuckin' enjoy myself' and other pseudo-threats.

Joey moved himself out from right under the window, planted his back against the wall and contemplated what to do next. Should he try and sneak attack these two dangerous people, or just run again and hope someone else dealt with them?