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Notes from an Even Smaller Island
"Yeah. We need water, too. "

Amanda hadn't thought of that. It should have been obvious that her the remaining bottle wouldn't last too long, but somehow it had slipped her mind completely.

Somehow it seemed that her stupid idea wasn't so stupid after all. Obviously she wasn't the only one who wanted to get the hell out of there.

They weren't going to get water here. They weren't going to get any food here, they weren't helping anyone by doing nothing and they wouldn't be getting off this island by sitting here.

But what was the plan?

But where would they go? The aslyum was large enough to just find another room to hide in, but if they were going to do that, they might as well just stay here.

They needed to do something. But she didn't have anything beyond that fact. Her mind stalled at the word plan repeatedly, failing to come up with anything more concrete than the word 'plan'.

Escape sounded good on paper. It would be great, wouldn't it? If they could get some secret SEAL task force to pull them out of there like those kids six years ago. But they needed to do something to get it to happen, and she couldn't for the life of her come up with a hint of an idea.

"So that's four yes votes." Water. The only place with water she could think of was the beach, but that wasn't quite drinking water.

"We should pack up, get ready to leave." she said. They could come up with a plan after.

The contents of her own backpack had been laid out in somewhat neat piles on the floor. She'd looked through what they'd been given a few times, but there was nothing there that would help them escape. There were a few tidbits of facts in the booklets they'd been given, but they were largely of the, 'don't do this, or you'll die' variety.

She stuffed them hastily back into her backpack now, including a few wrappers she refused to leave on the ground. Sure, that hardly mattered now, but somehow it still felt wrong to leave them there. She acquised to her conscience, stuffing them in one of the side pockets of the bag, where they wouldn't get in the way of anything.

The gun was the last thing she remembered, having simply laid in the side of the room, unused and untouched since they had first settled down here. She was half tempted to just leave it there, and not have to worry about shooting anyone. But reason and paranoia somehow beat out anxiety, and she picked it up anyway.

She shuffled around near the door, waiting for everyone else to finish up their own packing.

She needed to come up with a location before everyone else was done. Come on, she needed to think.

((Amanda Tan continued in The Greatest Sideshow on Earth))

Woof Woof, I'm a Dog. Kill your Friends.
It was a trap.

He ought to have noticed the strings, even if they had been someone camouflaged by the sheer mess that everything was down here.

A door swung open, and Jordan braced himself, putting his arms up reflexively, expecting to be attacked by whoever it was behind that door.

The apology that followed was the last thing he expected.

"Jeremy?" The familiar curly mop of hair was a relief to see. Even if he had expected a fight there was no way he could win one. He'd probably have been chased down the hallway like a second grader at recess if it had come down to it.

But Jeremy wasn't a threat. He was argumentative at times, but that had simply made him all the more interesting to talk to.

"Yeah, it sounds like it works quite well." The can thing was actually pretty ingenious. If Jordan hadn't been the one who walked right into it, he'd probably like it a lot more.

"It's just me and Hazel out here. We don't-" he cut himself off before he could finish the thought. They didn't have any weapons, but that was the last thing he needed to confirm to anyone. Even if it was Jeremy.

"So is anyone else here too?"

V6 Reduced Activity Notices
It's exam season now, so I'll be a bit less active over the next two to three weeks. Expect me to be a bit slower with posts.

Woof Woof, I'm a Dog. Kill your Friends.
((Jordan Green continued from We're In This Together))

Perhaps it had been a stroke of luck that they had left when they did. The place had been declared a danger zone when the announcement arrived, and by then, they had already been long gone from the garage where they had stayed the night.

Jordan had found his panic had subsided as they had walked on towards the asylum, becoming that slow fall into resignation where you realise panicking helped nothing and you had to do something about it and yet there was nothing to you could do about it because it everything was out of your hands.

The names today jabbed at him, like bits of his life were being torn away by every successive sentence that came from the PA. It felt a little unfair to those that had died that first day that he felt this way today, when he hadn't yesterday. But Sandy was dead. Jasmine was dead. Even the pain in the ass that was Bradley was dead. People he really knew and interacted with in school.

But that last name on the announcement was the worst surprise of all.

He had been with them just a few hours ago. And now his name was being read out across the island as a killer. He'd left them just so he could kill someone? Was that it?

He didn't know where they were going now. He was never good at this, thinking about what he wanted to do.

They had looked around the asylum for a bit, looking for a place to hide, or something. They'd never really made it clear what they were planning on doing. So they had somehow wandered down here, into the basement, which was cold and smelled like wet laundry left in the washing machine for far too long. There were only a few rooms down here but they looked big enough to hide something useful. The mess made it seem more likely that something had been forgotten, missed by the terrorists, more likely than at the radio tower where they had obviously checked everything a dozen times before bringing them here.

God, what he would give to find something here.

"Um... You doing okay?" he asked Hazel as they explored the basement. "If there's anything you need- "

Whatever chance of conversation he had managed to scrounge up was struck away, as he pulled on a door, the jangle of what sounded like a thousand cans resounding and echoing in the narrow corridor of the basement.

Notes from an Even Smaller Island
They didn't find the source of the blood. Not for lack of searching, but several of the rooms in the corridor remained locked, and Emma had guessed that they'd hidden themselves in one of those rooms.

It was an exercise in frustration. It was just one person, and there were four of them, trying to help, but despite everything, they could get nothing done. She had expected them to come out of their hiding spot eventually, but even as night fell, they had found nothing, heard nothing, and Amanda was starting to get sick of nothing.

They retreating to a ward for the night, trying to get some rest despite everything. She managed to sleep, a few restless hours, but more of those were spent pacing outside the room, looking for more clues, looking for something that could help the group out, anything to just keep herself working.

The announcements were a blur, each of the names almost half-expected, as if she could have said, I guess if anyone was going to snap it was them. Kimiko was the real stand out here, Kimiko was way low on the list of people she expected to hurt anyone like that. And yet she'd won some sick award for that. People were dead and people were killing and she couldn't even help one person.

Were they dead? Was someone dead because she'd failed to do something? She didn't know, and it didn't seem that she'd ever get to know. She doubled up on her search efforts the second day, even breaking down one of the locked doors in frustration, receiving a shower of splinters as a reward. But no, nothing.

Not literally nothing, but there were only bits and pieces of what might have once been useful items, or things far too massive to carry around. The terrorists had done their job well. If you needed a pile of rotten boxes, they had plenty of those. But as for anything that they could use, anything electronic, anything sharp, it all seemed rusted, broken or useless.

They'd talked a little, to try and burn time, but that was all it was. It was hard to talk when there were so many things that seemed out of bounds. School, friends, college, jobs, family, each of them were iffy in their own way, and she wasn't going to think about it for as long as she could. Thinking too hard about what her family was feeling would just make her even more upset, and that was the last thing she needed on this island.

Time simply continued to pass and night fell and dawn came once more and Amanda found herself slumped against the bed when she awoke.

She was rarely groggy when she awoke, but she now felt like she was thinking clearly, perhaps too much so, things just a little too sharp, ideas making too much sense on the inside of her head.

It was the third day now.

They had been here for something like fifty hours.

But nothing changed, nothing seemed to change and nothing would change if they were just going to sit here in the ward.

They'd wasted two days and they got nothing for it.

At this point she needed to do something, anything, to change things.

There were people out there dying and she was in here crumbling away from the inside out.

The announcements made everything clearer to her, and when Emma stumbled back into the room she made an announcement of her own.

"We've gotta move." She was sick of this room. Sick of these walls. Sick of being unable to do anything in here.

"I don't think it's a great idea to stay here for much longer. There's gotta be a better plan out there than just sitting here, doing nothing, and hoping that we don't get killed by one of those guys." She looked at the others in the room, hoping that one of that would confirm or deny what she was saying. She wasn't talking out of her arse, right? She was making sense, right? She looked at Lucilly, at Jaime, at Emma, gauging their reactions.

"I mean our goal is to live. And if we just sit here, we're not going to get rescued right? We actually need to do something. If we want to live, we need to go and make something happen."

What was she saying? She just wanted them to get out of this room. She didn't have a plan or even a plan for a plan for a plan. She just wanted to go.

She'd gone too far. She knew it. But words couldn't be taken back, and she could only wait nervously to hear the reaction to her words.

We're In This Together
"We're not going to look for him?"

Jordan had expected her to panic too. He hadn't expected this. This didn't look like surprise, fear, panic, none of the emotions that he had expected were there. Only what sounded like disappointment in Hazel's voice as she stared at the ground.

Why would anyone just leave like that in the middle of the night? Leaving his girlfriend behind no less. What would it take for someone to decide that after reuniting with someone the best idea was to have sex and then disappear again? Was he really that much of a jerk to think that this was okay?

But despite everything he was thinking, Jordan said nothing else, unable to decide on anything to say. There were too many thoughts, worries, ideas, and they all floated through his head and refused to settle down for longer than a moment.

The silence dragged for a moment too long.

Hazel wasn't going to say anything else and he wasn't going to ask anything and they were in this stupid impasse where each passing moment made it even more awkward to say anything else.

She knew why he'd gone. Jordan was sure of that. Something must have happened last night, and he was sure that it would explain everything. And yet he couldn't bring himself to ask her what had happened.

Part of it was being nice, of she didn't want to talk about what had happened last night of her own accord, who was he to ask? And yet more of it was fear, fear that he'd say something stupid, fear that'd he'd make her feel worse, fear that'd he'd let her find out that he knew what had happened last night.

"Fine, we'll go," he said finally, his exasperation clear in his voice. He didn't need an answer anyway. He couldn't undo anything that had happened, he could only just pick up the pieces and carry on.

((Jordan Green continued in Woof Woof, I'm a Dog. Kill your Friends.))