((M02: Samuel Wilson, START))
Damn it.
Damn it all.
Another rock clattered against the side of the mountain. Sam sat on the ground, pebbles all around him, his back to a boulder. He wasn't sure what kind of stone the boulder was, but it didn't feel particularly gneiss.
He'd consulted his map. He was in some place labeled "The Mines." Not that he particularly cared right now.
He had bigger worries.
Most of them had something to do with the fact that he was trapped in some sort of game, forced to kill other people or be killed. At least that seemed to be the basic premise that the Sheriff, whoever that guy was, had put forth to them.
Some sort of sadist, Sam supposed. Probably just a crazy loon, trying to get a rise out of them. He could worry about that Sheriff guy later.
The other worry was about the weapon he'd been assigned - a bottle of maple syrup. He needed to find something to put that on. Pancakes? Where was he going to find pancakes?
It was all quite ridiculous.
Sam wasn't sure he was dealing with the situation appropriately. He could be dead. He could be dead soon. He might already be dead, or dreaming, or worse. But he didn't think so. The collar around his neck felt real enough. Rough and leathery. At least it wasn't wood. Splinters in the neck would suck.
He checked the map again.
The Ghost Town. Sounded like a good idea. There might even be other people there. Might be a bad idea, since some of the people he knew were kind of jerks, but hey, it was a close community. He felt pretty safe. Nothing bad was going to happen.
It was probably all a joke. Probably, some drama would ensue, courtesy of some of his... more crazy classmates, and soon enough, somehow, they'd be back on that train, going...
Sam hesitated.
Where had they been going?
Stone Soup
Open
Stone Soup
This signature intentionally left blank.
[[F22: Delilah Rivers - START.]]
Delilah groaned.
This stone and dirt beneath her didn't do a thing to help her in any way, except maybe give her a stiff neck. She felt unnaturally groggy, as if her head were spinning in circles. She laid there on the tunnel floors for quite a while, waiting for the nauseous feeling and pain to go away.
After some time, Delilah allowed her eyelids to flutter open. It didn't make a lick of difference. It was as if she still had her eyes closed; it was so dark in here.
She moved back, still laying on the floor, until the back of her head rubbed against several small jagged rocks. Her hand went to her scalp immediately. No, bleeding, as far as she could tell. That was when it dawned on her that she was stuck in an unlit cave, unable to see anything. Her breathing picked up as her fear levels rose. It felt like the walls were beginning to close in on her. She was lost, in the darkness of some abandoned mine. How was she supposed to get out of here? How did she get here in the first place? Then the earlier events of the day started flowing into her mind.
The young French Canadian girl had been on a class field trip with some of the other students in the 11th grade of Alderbrook High School. Then the sudden breaking of the train, almost sending her flying forward. One of the boys had grabbed her on time, before she could have knocked herself out on the edge of a table. Then she remembered the terror, as everyone struggled to escape the train, as it became clear that the entire class was being kidnapped, or train-napped in the middle of nowhere.
Then she remembered the gas, knocking her unconscious after that man had told them of their situation.
What was the situation and the reason they were abducted? Well, the Sheriff as that Southern US voice stated so simply was to kill each other.
Why? Why did they have to do that anyway? What purpose was this "game" supposed to fulfill? Was this just some sort of sick entertainment for the cowboy terrorists that kidnapped them?
Her hands began searching for some sort of leverage in the darkness that she could use to push or pull herself up, in her still weakened and drowsy state. The first thing she felt was a canvas like fabric or material under her fingertips. She crawled forward to reach out for it. The feeling was almost like a pillow. Slowly she pushed herself up into a upright sitting position. Luckily there was a boulder where she could lean back against.
Delilah grabbed at the "pillow" which she now realized was a backpack of some sort. She cuddled it close to herself as tears began to fall from her face.
This wasn't fair. She didn't want to be in some stupid game where her classmates had to kill each other. All she wanted to do was be alone. Ice skate, watch movies, collect stuff, daydream and maybe even be work in performing arts and act or do cosmetology like her mother, Mimi, when she got older. She didn't bother anyone. She kept to herself and left everyone alone. Why did everything have to be so unfair?
Sure she wasn't very close to many people, but she still couldn't imagine having to do such a thing to any of them. Especially to the very few that she did get close with. How can anyone?
When a tear slid down her face and onto her neck, Delilah reached up to wipe it, only to have her hand brush up against something leather wrapped around her neck. She hadn't noticed it earlier, but now it felt like it was tugging at her throat. Her eyes widened, when she remembered about the threats of being fitted with a "surprise" that they shouldn't screw with. There was no way she was going to touch it again. She-she didn't want to die.
Delilah curled herself into her jacket and sobbed into her bag. A faint echo floated through the mines.
All she wanted to do now, was to sit here and just wait everything out. Hopefully things would get better. In her mind she could pretend they would.
Delilah groaned.
This stone and dirt beneath her didn't do a thing to help her in any way, except maybe give her a stiff neck. She felt unnaturally groggy, as if her head were spinning in circles. She laid there on the tunnel floors for quite a while, waiting for the nauseous feeling and pain to go away.
After some time, Delilah allowed her eyelids to flutter open. It didn't make a lick of difference. It was as if she still had her eyes closed; it was so dark in here.
She moved back, still laying on the floor, until the back of her head rubbed against several small jagged rocks. Her hand went to her scalp immediately. No, bleeding, as far as she could tell. That was when it dawned on her that she was stuck in an unlit cave, unable to see anything. Her breathing picked up as her fear levels rose. It felt like the walls were beginning to close in on her. She was lost, in the darkness of some abandoned mine. How was she supposed to get out of here? How did she get here in the first place? Then the earlier events of the day started flowing into her mind.
The young French Canadian girl had been on a class field trip with some of the other students in the 11th grade of Alderbrook High School. Then the sudden breaking of the train, almost sending her flying forward. One of the boys had grabbed her on time, before she could have knocked herself out on the edge of a table. Then she remembered the terror, as everyone struggled to escape the train, as it became clear that the entire class was being kidnapped, or train-napped in the middle of nowhere.
Then she remembered the gas, knocking her unconscious after that man had told them of their situation.
What was the situation and the reason they were abducted? Well, the Sheriff as that Southern US voice stated so simply was to kill each other.
Why? Why did they have to do that anyway? What purpose was this "game" supposed to fulfill? Was this just some sort of sick entertainment for the cowboy terrorists that kidnapped them?
Her hands began searching for some sort of leverage in the darkness that she could use to push or pull herself up, in her still weakened and drowsy state. The first thing she felt was a canvas like fabric or material under her fingertips. She crawled forward to reach out for it. The feeling was almost like a pillow. Slowly she pushed herself up into a upright sitting position. Luckily there was a boulder where she could lean back against.
Delilah grabbed at the "pillow" which she now realized was a backpack of some sort. She cuddled it close to herself as tears began to fall from her face.
This wasn't fair. She didn't want to be in some stupid game where her classmates had to kill each other. All she wanted to do was be alone. Ice skate, watch movies, collect stuff, daydream and maybe even be work in performing arts and act or do cosmetology like her mother, Mimi, when she got older. She didn't bother anyone. She kept to herself and left everyone alone. Why did everything have to be so unfair?
Sure she wasn't very close to many people, but she still couldn't imagine having to do such a thing to any of them. Especially to the very few that she did get close with. How can anyone?
When a tear slid down her face and onto her neck, Delilah reached up to wipe it, only to have her hand brush up against something leather wrapped around her neck. She hadn't noticed it earlier, but now it felt like it was tugging at her throat. Her eyes widened, when she remembered about the threats of being fitted with a "surprise" that they shouldn't screw with. There was no way she was going to touch it again. She-she didn't want to die.
Delilah curled herself into her jacket and sobbed into her bag. A faint echo floated through the mines.
All she wanted to do now, was to sit here and just wait everything out. Hopefully things would get better. In her mind she could pretend they would.
A sound from the darkness.
There were tunnels, weren't there? Sam turned his head slightly, looking into the tunnels. The sun's rays stretched into them, darkening slowly until they were completely gone.
Didn't seem safe.
Ridiculous. He wasn't a coward. Something was going on there and if he wasn't going to check it out, who was? Maybe it was a way to get them all out of here, and back on that train. The Sheriff had said something about leaving The Zone, about it being real bad for them. Something about those leather chokers.
Well, screw the Sheriff. Sam hauled the backpack up as he got to his feet, then stuffed his bottle of maple syrup and the map back in the backpack. He was going to check the noise out. Having talked himself into it, he moved slowly and quietly into the darkness.
He took a few steps. It was dark. Too dark. He fumbled in his backpack, not having the foresight to even bother dropping it on the ground for easier searching. Ah, there it was. He lit the lighter.
Sam proceeded into the slightly mitigated darkness toward the source of the sounds, holding the lighter aloft in one hand and the backpack in the other.
There were tunnels, weren't there? Sam turned his head slightly, looking into the tunnels. The sun's rays stretched into them, darkening slowly until they were completely gone.
Didn't seem safe.
Ridiculous. He wasn't a coward. Something was going on there and if he wasn't going to check it out, who was? Maybe it was a way to get them all out of here, and back on that train. The Sheriff had said something about leaving The Zone, about it being real bad for them. Something about those leather chokers.
Well, screw the Sheriff. Sam hauled the backpack up as he got to his feet, then stuffed his bottle of maple syrup and the map back in the backpack. He was going to check the noise out. Having talked himself into it, he moved slowly and quietly into the darkness.
He took a few steps. It was dark. Too dark. He fumbled in his backpack, not having the foresight to even bother dropping it on the ground for easier searching. Ah, there it was. He lit the lighter.
Sam proceeded into the slightly mitigated darkness toward the source of the sounds, holding the lighter aloft in one hand and the backpack in the other.
This signature intentionally left blank.
Suddenly the darkness was illuminated by a small light concentrated in one spot, but moving closer and closer to her. Even though the light source was small it seemed to light up the walls of the cave, although feint. It was a person, somebody coming to her.
Someone planning to kill her? Her heart beat sped up at the thought. That was the goal here wasn't it? Somebody was bound to start playing the so called "game" already! What if one of those people was whoever this person was? Damn it, he or she must have heard her cry. Stupid. Stupid.
The light was near enough, that Delilah was able to see some of her surroundings. There were wooden structures in the tunnel, as if it was once used by people before. There was some sort of lantern or torch thing hanging against a wall, supported by a beam, a large wooden crate and a few rocks as to be expected. What surprised Delilah was that the tunnel was wider than she originally expected.
The foot steps were clearly audible now and Delilah shook. She was scared. She could have sat there in fear and waited, for whoever that was to see her, but then she ran the risk of possibly being killed. She saw a rock on the floor, easily throw-able. Maybe she could use it as a distraction and make a run for it? She spotted an adjacent tunnel from the one she was in and threw the rock forward.
With a clatter, the rock hit against a surface and landed with a thud against the wall. The foot steps? Did they stop?
No, it was too late to take back what she started. The person was now aware of her presence and would be on the move.
She had to do something. She really didn't want to die.
Grabbing her bag and holding it in front of her as a shield, Delilah charged ahead right toward the center of the light source.
Someone planning to kill her? Her heart beat sped up at the thought. That was the goal here wasn't it? Somebody was bound to start playing the so called "game" already! What if one of those people was whoever this person was? Damn it, he or she must have heard her cry. Stupid. Stupid.
The light was near enough, that Delilah was able to see some of her surroundings. There were wooden structures in the tunnel, as if it was once used by people before. There was some sort of lantern or torch thing hanging against a wall, supported by a beam, a large wooden crate and a few rocks as to be expected. What surprised Delilah was that the tunnel was wider than she originally expected.
The foot steps were clearly audible now and Delilah shook. She was scared. She could have sat there in fear and waited, for whoever that was to see her, but then she ran the risk of possibly being killed. She saw a rock on the floor, easily throw-able. Maybe she could use it as a distraction and make a run for it? She spotted an adjacent tunnel from the one she was in and threw the rock forward.
With a clatter, the rock hit against a surface and landed with a thud against the wall. The foot steps? Did they stop?
No, it was too late to take back what she started. The person was now aware of her presence and would be on the move.
She had to do something. She really didn't want to die.
Grabbing her bag and holding it in front of her as a shield, Delilah charged ahead right toward the center of the light source.
There didn't seem to be anyone here. At least, not in his range of vision. The lighter flickered gently, casting an eerie shadow of him on the cave walls, and Sam entertained a few thoughts of turning back. But no. His collar was fine, everything was fine. This might be an escape route. Something told him it wouldn't be that easy, but hey, maybe the Sheriff just didn't realize the ob-
A rock flew into the light, impacting the wall.
Sam stopped for a second, distracted. Bad move.
If Sam had been more prepared, he might have been more ready to stand his ground. If he had been more ready to stand his ground, he might have been able to keep standing. If he had been able to keep standing, he might not have ended up in the position that he ended up in.
Delilah slammed into him, and the lighter went flying, and with it his light source.
"Ahhh!"
Before he accidentally let go of the lighter, before it went out, he caught a glimpse of his would-be adversary. Brown hair, blue-grey eyes, someone he recognized from theater work-
"Delilah!?"
Then everything went dark again.
A rock flew into the light, impacting the wall.
Sam stopped for a second, distracted. Bad move.
If Sam had been more prepared, he might have been more ready to stand his ground. If he had been more ready to stand his ground, he might have been able to keep standing. If he had been able to keep standing, he might not have ended up in the position that he ended up in.
Delilah slammed into him, and the lighter went flying, and with it his light source.
"Ahhh!"
Before he accidentally let go of the lighter, before it went out, he caught a glimpse of his would-be adversary. Brown hair, blue-grey eyes, someone he recognized from theater work-
"Delilah!?"
Then everything went dark again.
This signature intentionally left blank.
Right at the moment of impact, Delilah caught the glow on the face of her first acquaintance here.
It was one of the few that she would recognize almost immediately with the backstage Theatre work they would do back in Alderbrook.
He screamed, he fell, he yelled "Delilah!?" and then everything went black. Whatever was lighting up the tunnel had gone out and clattered somewhere out of immediate reach. She stumbled over the boy when she tackled him, surprised that she could even do that at all, what with her size and all. And then she fell, right onto him.
"Samuel?" Her French Canadian accent fairly obvious.
It was quiet and he didn't seem to want to hurt her even when she made the first move. Maybe he wasn't playing the game after all? Now she was on top of him. Oh gosh she was so embarrassed.
Delilah couldn't see again, but she lifted herself off of him and backed up against a boulder, the bag clutched tightly in her arms
"Sorry." She said quietly.
It was one of the few that she would recognize almost immediately with the backstage Theatre work they would do back in Alderbrook.
He screamed, he fell, he yelled "Delilah!?" and then everything went black. Whatever was lighting up the tunnel had gone out and clattered somewhere out of immediate reach. She stumbled over the boy when she tackled him, surprised that she could even do that at all, what with her size and all. And then she fell, right onto him.
"Samuel?" Her French Canadian accent fairly obvious.
It was quiet and he didn't seem to want to hurt her even when she made the first move. Maybe he wasn't playing the game after all? Now she was on top of him. Oh gosh she was so embarrassed.
Delilah couldn't see again, but she lifted herself off of him and backed up against a boulder, the bag clutched tightly in her arms
"Sorry." She said quietly.
Delilah was on top of him.
Awkward.
He realized that this could have all been easily avoided if he had just been a little more prepared, had just a little more balance on his feet. He must have weighed thirty, forty, fifty pounds more than her (although he supposed that he'd never asked her her weight, nor did he want to). At least Delilah wasn't dangerous... he thought. Then again, everyone had to be considered a threat, maybe, if the Sheriff guy was actually serious. He'd have to distinguish on that point later.
He felt her weight lift off him, and then Delilah was apologizing.
"Uh, yeah," Sam muttered in the darkness, his cheeks still a little heated. "No need to apologize. I'm sorry, too. Did I scare you?"
He sat up, and fumbled around on the ground for his lighter. He couldn't have dropped it too far away from where he had fallen. It wasn't like he had flung it or anything. Rocks, rocks, more rocks... ah. Something rectangular.
He flicked the lighter on, illuminating the cave. Delilah was backed against a boulder now, clutching a bag almost identical to his in her arms. Looked like she had a collar around her neck, too. He didn't know what to think about that. Maybe the Sheriff guy was more committed to this game than Sam had initially thought. If she was here, that probably meant everyone else was, too; that wasn't exactly a pleasant thought in any form.
Awkward.
He realized that this could have all been easily avoided if he had just been a little more prepared, had just a little more balance on his feet. He must have weighed thirty, forty, fifty pounds more than her (although he supposed that he'd never asked her her weight, nor did he want to). At least Delilah wasn't dangerous... he thought. Then again, everyone had to be considered a threat, maybe, if the Sheriff guy was actually serious. He'd have to distinguish on that point later.
He felt her weight lift off him, and then Delilah was apologizing.
"Uh, yeah," Sam muttered in the darkness, his cheeks still a little heated. "No need to apologize. I'm sorry, too. Did I scare you?"
He sat up, and fumbled around on the ground for his lighter. He couldn't have dropped it too far away from where he had fallen. It wasn't like he had flung it or anything. Rocks, rocks, more rocks... ah. Something rectangular.
He flicked the lighter on, illuminating the cave. Delilah was backed against a boulder now, clutching a bag almost identical to his in her arms. Looked like she had a collar around her neck, too. He didn't know what to think about that. Maybe the Sheriff guy was more committed to this game than Sam had initially thought. If she was here, that probably meant everyone else was, too; that wasn't exactly a pleasant thought in any form.
This signature intentionally left blank.
The light flickered on again and Delilah could clearly see the face of Samuel Wilson staring at her. He was waiting for an answer to his question most likely.
Normally, Delilah wasn't the sort to talk very often, but working with Sam with the backstage stuff, showed that he was an ok person and he didn't seem dangerous. If he wanted to he could have taken her out already. Still she found it difficult to speak.
Instead she nodded and wept onto her bag.
"I want out from this place..." Her words barely a whisper.
Normally, Delilah wasn't the sort to talk very often, but working with Sam with the backstage stuff, showed that he was an ok person and he didn't seem dangerous. If he wanted to he could have taken her out already. Still she found it difficult to speak.
Instead she nodded and wept onto her bag.
"I want out from this place..." Her words barely a whisper.
Sam felt ambivalent. He didn't like feeling ambivalent.
Delilah was crying into her bag.
Sam felt he had to make a decision. He could go two ways, right now. Three, maybe. There were a lot of ways he could go. One, he could just leave her here. Crude, cruel, and pointless. Two, he could help her, and choose whether to keep watching his back or not. The choices just branched out from there.
The game that the Sheriff proposed, kill or be killed... Sam was starting to think he might have been serious. It wasn't just the heat screwing with him; Delilah was here for sure. And even if the Sheriff wasn't, maybe some classmates thought he was serious. Delilah certainly did, and Sam himself wasn't so sure anymore.
It all boiled down to one thing. Did he trust his classmates? Could he trust Delilah? Was she a threat? She certainly didn't seem dangerous at the moment... They'd done theater work together before.
Sam didn't like feeling ambivalent.
So he made a decision, right then and there.
Delilah Rivers: not a threat.
Making sure not to extinguish the lighter, he stood up, threw the daypack over his shoulder, and stuck out his newly freed hand to her.
"Come on, then," Sam said, the light flickering across his face. "Let's get out of this place."
Delilah was crying into her bag.
Sam felt he had to make a decision. He could go two ways, right now. Three, maybe. There were a lot of ways he could go. One, he could just leave her here. Crude, cruel, and pointless. Two, he could help her, and choose whether to keep watching his back or not. The choices just branched out from there.
The game that the Sheriff proposed, kill or be killed... Sam was starting to think he might have been serious. It wasn't just the heat screwing with him; Delilah was here for sure. And even if the Sheriff wasn't, maybe some classmates thought he was serious. Delilah certainly did, and Sam himself wasn't so sure anymore.
It all boiled down to one thing. Did he trust his classmates? Could he trust Delilah? Was she a threat? She certainly didn't seem dangerous at the moment... They'd done theater work together before.
Sam didn't like feeling ambivalent.
So he made a decision, right then and there.
Delilah Rivers: not a threat.
Making sure not to extinguish the lighter, he stood up, threw the daypack over his shoulder, and stuck out his newly freed hand to her.
"Come on, then," Sam said, the light flickering across his face. "Let's get out of this place."
This signature intentionally left blank.
Delilah looked up at Sam's outreached hand.
"Come on, then," Sam said, the light flickering across his face. "Let's get out of this place."
She usually preferred being alone, but at the same time she was too frightened to stay in the darkness, waiting for someone else to show up and put her out of her misery. Delilah was lucky that it was Sam who showed up first, rather than someone else, someone who might not be nearly as friendly. She looked up at his face, glowing above the light from the flame. His face serious and concerned. He honestly wanted to help her. Out of this place at least.
The small girl made a decision as well. She took his hand.
"Come on, then," Sam said, the light flickering across his face. "Let's get out of this place."
She usually preferred being alone, but at the same time she was too frightened to stay in the darkness, waiting for someone else to show up and put her out of her misery. Delilah was lucky that it was Sam who showed up first, rather than someone else, someone who might not be nearly as friendly. She looked up at his face, glowing above the light from the flame. His face serious and concerned. He honestly wanted to help her. Out of this place at least.
The small girl made a decision as well. She took his hand.
Her hand was warm in his, and Sam began the process of retracing his steps. It was easy enough - he thought he probably hadn't gone too far, and the tunnels, while dark and winding, tended not to branch off too much. The musty smell of the decay on the wooden crates they passed stuck with him, though. For a brief moment, he was almost tempted to smash one open and see what was inside, but thought better of it, thinking what a waste of perfectly good craftsmanship that would be. Besides, he had a mission to accomplish.
They made it outside soon enough, and Sam gently let go of Delilah's hand.
He turned off the lighter, stuffed it in his pocket, and raised his hand to his eyes to squint at the sun. Looked almost noon. High noon.
"I reckon we ought to find other people," Sam said, looking back at Delilah. "Find out what sort of game everyone thinks this is. The town sounds like a good place to start."
That is, if she wanted to stay with him. All they had to do was watch out for some of their more enthusiastic classmates, and... well, Sam was sure it'd all work out somehow. He had a sneaking feeling he didn't want to think about it too hard.
He gave her a slight smile. "We'll probably be back on that train before we know it."
They made it outside soon enough, and Sam gently let go of Delilah's hand.
He turned off the lighter, stuffed it in his pocket, and raised his hand to his eyes to squint at the sun. Looked almost noon. High noon.
"I reckon we ought to find other people," Sam said, looking back at Delilah. "Find out what sort of game everyone thinks this is. The town sounds like a good place to start."
That is, if she wanted to stay with him. All they had to do was watch out for some of their more enthusiastic classmates, and... well, Sam was sure it'd all work out somehow. He had a sneaking feeling he didn't want to think about it too hard.
He gave her a slight smile. "We'll probably be back on that train before we know it."
This signature intentionally left blank.
Hand in hand, Delilah allowed herself to be lifted from the ground, with Sam supporting her weight as her legs initially wobbled from the lingering effects of the noxious gas of the train.
She allowed Sam to lead her out, him in the front pulling her carefully from the behind. The Quebecan teen took small cautious steps as she kept close behind in the near darkness with only the small flame to help Sam guide them both out. Even then, she still managed to stumble on tiny jutting rocks from the earth. Her other arm, the one not being pulled by Sam, kept a steady grip onto her day pack. It was hugged against her body like a teddy bear, as if it were her only life line. Coincidentally, it possibly really was.
Slowly but surely, the darkness of the cave started dissipating. Specks of sunlight started to leak in, the smell of fresh air. The centered light source at the actual "end of the tunnel" grew bigger and bigger with each passing step, till she could see the blue of the sky.
Her eyes hurt at first. They were still trying to adjust to the brightness of day, after being accustomed to the pitch black of the cavernous mines. But still, her heart leaped in relief when she realized that she was finally out of her dark, stone prison.
She wanted to thank Sam so much for helping her out of there and freeing her from the figurative shackles she felt had tied her to center of the mines, or however far in she had been.
That was when it came to her mind, that they had both not talked to one another even once, the whole walk through to the outside. Delilah was much too shy to really break the silence herself, not to mention the fact that they were still holding hands made Delilah feel incredibly awkward. She wasn't used to any sort of literal hand to hand physical contact with anyone. Not even with the few close enough to be considered friends. Her thoughts seemed to zone in where they touched and her heart sped up in nervousness. She wanted to let go on her own, but would that be too rude? After all Sam was nice enough to help her out and provide some sort of emotional support. So she waited until he did something first.
A minute more or so more of letting their eyes get adjusted to the sun and Sam finally let go. Delilah pulled her arm back quickly and wrapped it around her canvas bag. The bad thing was that she felt warm, a little too warm to be holding a bag so closely to herself and insulating her body heat through it. It didn't help matters that she was also dressed with one of her hooded jackets, the indigo one to be precise. The clothing was meant for the usually colder weather of Canada not...
Wherever they were.
It looked noon. The sun, wide, like a gigantic orange in the sky. She didn't even think she'd ever seen it look that large. The sky was nearly cloudless. The ground around them, dry, withered yellow-brown grass - not green. Grass was supposed to be green. Shrub like trees, a few cactus and large boulders on some kind of empty prairie. Why, this looked like they were taken and placed right into an old western movie. Were they in the United States now? It was certainly a far cry from the familiar atmosphere and setting of Canada at least.
She turned and looked up at where they had come out from: A large, rocky mountain range with a few basins or plateaus, and a broken down wooden sign with a faded paint job which simply read "Mines" on it. Delilah could even hear the sound of running water off in a mere distance. A river?
Her thoughts of the setting halted as Sam began to speak to her.
"I reckon we ought to find other people. Find out what sort of game everyone thinks this is. The town sounds like a good place to start."
It was a decent idea and Delilah felt that she could trust Sam's lead. When it came to finding other people, Delilah was somewhat wary. She didn't know if she could trust that "other people" would be just and gentle hearted as Sam was. If what the man called "Sheriff" said were true; that they were in a game of kill all your classmates, than she couldn't be sure that everyone they met wouldn't just pull out a stick of dynamite or something and blow them both up.
However, there were a few people that Delilah felt she could trust, aside from Sam. One of them, was her closest friend Pepper Clark. The French Canadian girl wished to find both her and Clair Belvedere, to make sure they were okay. Safe and okay. Delilah's already fragile spirit would be shattered if anything were to happen to them. Maybe together they could figure out that part of Sam's plan about what they should do about "the game" and like Sam also suggested; a town - wherever that was - did seem like an ideal space to search. Much better than a mine shaft.
Then he smiled at her, promising to bring her back to the train heading back home, before she would know it. Delilah nearly blushed.
Though her mouth remained closed, the shift of her lips showed the slightest signs of her own smile.
Delilah put her bag down for a few short seconds and took one or two steps to close in the distance between herself and Sam. She took a quick breath and put her arms around him, before just as quickly letting go and picking up her bag once more.
"Merci." She said with eyes staring down at the dry land.
She allowed Sam to lead her out, him in the front pulling her carefully from the behind. The Quebecan teen took small cautious steps as she kept close behind in the near darkness with only the small flame to help Sam guide them both out. Even then, she still managed to stumble on tiny jutting rocks from the earth. Her other arm, the one not being pulled by Sam, kept a steady grip onto her day pack. It was hugged against her body like a teddy bear, as if it were her only life line. Coincidentally, it possibly really was.
Slowly but surely, the darkness of the cave started dissipating. Specks of sunlight started to leak in, the smell of fresh air. The centered light source at the actual "end of the tunnel" grew bigger and bigger with each passing step, till she could see the blue of the sky.
Her eyes hurt at first. They were still trying to adjust to the brightness of day, after being accustomed to the pitch black of the cavernous mines. But still, her heart leaped in relief when she realized that she was finally out of her dark, stone prison.
She wanted to thank Sam so much for helping her out of there and freeing her from the figurative shackles she felt had tied her to center of the mines, or however far in she had been.
That was when it came to her mind, that they had both not talked to one another even once, the whole walk through to the outside. Delilah was much too shy to really break the silence herself, not to mention the fact that they were still holding hands made Delilah feel incredibly awkward. She wasn't used to any sort of literal hand to hand physical contact with anyone. Not even with the few close enough to be considered friends. Her thoughts seemed to zone in where they touched and her heart sped up in nervousness. She wanted to let go on her own, but would that be too rude? After all Sam was nice enough to help her out and provide some sort of emotional support. So she waited until he did something first.
A minute more or so more of letting their eyes get adjusted to the sun and Sam finally let go. Delilah pulled her arm back quickly and wrapped it around her canvas bag. The bad thing was that she felt warm, a little too warm to be holding a bag so closely to herself and insulating her body heat through it. It didn't help matters that she was also dressed with one of her hooded jackets, the indigo one to be precise. The clothing was meant for the usually colder weather of Canada not...
Wherever they were.
It looked noon. The sun, wide, like a gigantic orange in the sky. She didn't even think she'd ever seen it look that large. The sky was nearly cloudless. The ground around them, dry, withered yellow-brown grass - not green. Grass was supposed to be green. Shrub like trees, a few cactus and large boulders on some kind of empty prairie. Why, this looked like they were taken and placed right into an old western movie. Were they in the United States now? It was certainly a far cry from the familiar atmosphere and setting of Canada at least.
She turned and looked up at where they had come out from: A large, rocky mountain range with a few basins or plateaus, and a broken down wooden sign with a faded paint job which simply read "Mines" on it. Delilah could even hear the sound of running water off in a mere distance. A river?
Her thoughts of the setting halted as Sam began to speak to her.
"I reckon we ought to find other people. Find out what sort of game everyone thinks this is. The town sounds like a good place to start."
It was a decent idea and Delilah felt that she could trust Sam's lead. When it came to finding other people, Delilah was somewhat wary. She didn't know if she could trust that "other people" would be just and gentle hearted as Sam was. If what the man called "Sheriff" said were true; that they were in a game of kill all your classmates, than she couldn't be sure that everyone they met wouldn't just pull out a stick of dynamite or something and blow them both up.
However, there were a few people that Delilah felt she could trust, aside from Sam. One of them, was her closest friend Pepper Clark. The French Canadian girl wished to find both her and Clair Belvedere, to make sure they were okay. Safe and okay. Delilah's already fragile spirit would be shattered if anything were to happen to them. Maybe together they could figure out that part of Sam's plan about what they should do about "the game" and like Sam also suggested; a town - wherever that was - did seem like an ideal space to search. Much better than a mine shaft.
Then he smiled at her, promising to bring her back to the train heading back home, before she would know it. Delilah nearly blushed.
Though her mouth remained closed, the shift of her lips showed the slightest signs of her own smile.
Delilah put her bag down for a few short seconds and took one or two steps to close in the distance between herself and Sam. She took a quick breath and put her arms around him, before just as quickly letting go and picking up her bag once more.
"Merci." She said with eyes staring down at the dry land.
Sam was busy checking his map, which he'd managed to extricate from the abyss of his backpack. He jostled the maple syrup along the way, and he thought again about pancakes. What did a man have to do to get pancakes around here? Honestly, though, Sam was beginning to suspect that it was some sort of jibe at Canadians. At least they hadn't given him a big pack of bacon along with it. That would actually have been kind of ridiculous - pouring maple syrup on bacon.
He had been using that word a lot in his mind, ridiculous. He supposed it summed up a lot that he had felt since he had first woken up on these uncomfortable stones, baking in the heat. The whole situation was ridiculous - he didn't want to go over the whole "kill or die" thing but it was indeed ridiculous. They couldn't possibly expect that they would kill each other. They were classmates, for goodness' sake. They'd grown up together.
He looked up at Delilah, who gave him something approaching a smile.
Delilah wasn't going to kill him. She wasn't a threat. And he wasn't going to kill Delilah. That was obvious enough. There wouldn't even be any point to it. Someone killing someone else would establish themselves as a threat, and that was enough reason to neutralize them. They'd never be able to get anywhere.
...But the truth was, Sam wasn't entirely sure.
There were classmates that he didn't trust, and he knew there were people who might snap under the pressure. And all he had to defend himself was a bottle of maple syrup. Then again, maybe everyone else had gotten jokes as weapons, too. He could only hope. If they could cooperate, then they'd let them out. No problem, right? Surely people couldn't be killing yet.
Yet?
The more he thought about it, the less he wanted to think about it. The more he thought about it, the more his thoughts seemed to approach denial.
Sam opened his mouth to speak again.
In the few short seconds that he hadn't been paying attention, Delilah had closed the distance between them, and was hugging him. He didn't even have time to register it, didn't even have time to reciprocate the gesture, before she backed up and picked up her bag again.
He shut his mouth and blinked a few times, at a loss for words. He looked at her face for a moment, but she was just looking down at the ground, and he couldn't read her expression.
"It was nothing, really," Sam finally muttered, hoping that he wasn't blushing or anything that might imply embarrassment. He wasn't sure why. "I, uh, let's just get going."
People to find, things to do, a mission to accomplish.
Sam was going to make the best he could out of the situation.
((Samuel Wilson continued in Water Under the Bridge))
He had been using that word a lot in his mind, ridiculous. He supposed it summed up a lot that he had felt since he had first woken up on these uncomfortable stones, baking in the heat. The whole situation was ridiculous - he didn't want to go over the whole "kill or die" thing but it was indeed ridiculous. They couldn't possibly expect that they would kill each other. They were classmates, for goodness' sake. They'd grown up together.
He looked up at Delilah, who gave him something approaching a smile.
Delilah wasn't going to kill him. She wasn't a threat. And he wasn't going to kill Delilah. That was obvious enough. There wouldn't even be any point to it. Someone killing someone else would establish themselves as a threat, and that was enough reason to neutralize them. They'd never be able to get anywhere.
...But the truth was, Sam wasn't entirely sure.
There were classmates that he didn't trust, and he knew there were people who might snap under the pressure. And all he had to defend himself was a bottle of maple syrup. Then again, maybe everyone else had gotten jokes as weapons, too. He could only hope. If they could cooperate, then they'd let them out. No problem, right? Surely people couldn't be killing yet.
Yet?
The more he thought about it, the less he wanted to think about it. The more he thought about it, the more his thoughts seemed to approach denial.
Sam opened his mouth to speak again.
In the few short seconds that he hadn't been paying attention, Delilah had closed the distance between them, and was hugging him. He didn't even have time to register it, didn't even have time to reciprocate the gesture, before she backed up and picked up her bag again.
He shut his mouth and blinked a few times, at a loss for words. He looked at her face for a moment, but she was just looking down at the ground, and he couldn't read her expression.
"It was nothing, really," Sam finally muttered, hoping that he wasn't blushing or anything that might imply embarrassment. He wasn't sure why. "I, uh, let's just get going."
People to find, things to do, a mission to accomplish.
Sam was going to make the best he could out of the situation.
((Samuel Wilson continued in Water Under the Bridge))
This signature intentionally left blank.
Delilah didn't usually have company, much less have herself keep someone else company. She was the wallflower, staying out of everyone's way, with only a few who she was willing to open up to outside of school related activities, such as the Alderbrook Theater Program which both herself and Sam happened to be a part of.
One thing to know about Delilah, is that even though her friends were few in number, those few tended to be very close to the young girl's heart. The ice was usually difficult to break, but once Delilah started to like someone, she'd become rather attached to the person. Like her parents, like Pepper, like Clair.
Sorta like what was happening with Sam right now. The "game" just happened to speed up the process here.
He was friendly. He showed concern for her. Helped her and looked ready to continue helping her. She followed him out. She knew she could trust him. Trust that he could keep her alive.
She really didn't want to die.
[[Delilah Rivers Continued To: Water Under the Bridge.]]
One thing to know about Delilah, is that even though her friends were few in number, those few tended to be very close to the young girl's heart. The ice was usually difficult to break, but once Delilah started to like someone, she'd become rather attached to the person. Like her parents, like Pepper, like Clair.
Sorta like what was happening with Sam right now. The "game" just happened to speed up the process here.
He was friendly. He showed concern for her. Helped her and looked ready to continue helping her. She followed him out. She knew she could trust him. Trust that he could keep her alive.
She really didn't want to die.
[[Delilah Rivers Continued To: Water Under the Bridge.]]