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Forget About What I Said
Sure, Henry had gone straight for the bags - sure, Ben was sharing his food with Henry. And sure, Henry had likely narrowly avoided getting beaten to death by leaving behind his bag. He'd do the same in that kind of situation, too.. but despite all that, Matt didn't feel particularly bad about not sharing. Wanting to keep all his food for himself - at least until Henry or someone else was really starving - didn't seem too bad a thing to do. He had to look out for himself before anyone else. If he didn't, then sooner or later, someone was going to take advantage of him.

Altruism, he thought, is fucking suicide in this situation. Sooner or later, someone is going to take advantage of him. Him or someone else he knew.

Matt cracked a smile that was half real, half fake. Sure, Henry was more than a bit strange and was eyeing their bags suspiciously again, but he bet his money that anyone would think twice about picking a fight with a group of four people. Well, three and a half, if you really think about it. Right now, though, they weren't being attacked or anything like that - they just had to pass the time, really. Figure out what to do next. Maybe Henry was a savant, or something - that'd be useful, thought Matt.

"Well, uh.. who was chasing you, man? We gotta look out for them. They sound like trouble."

Forget About What I Said
Matt had honestly started to wonder about the odds that they'd run across another person that someone in their little group knew. There were only, what, one hundred something people on the island right now - probably not even that - so it wasn't too unbelievable. Still, he had to wonder if this person was worth trusting. Not everyone that Nate and Ben knew were their friends, right? They had to know a couple of assholes. A couple of people who wouldn't think twice about killing someone like him. Someone who couldn't really fight back.

Eventually, Henry came inside - dispelling any of Matt's fears that he was the slightest bit dangerous, at least in the 'can beat you to death' sense - and immediately started asking for food. Not his food, Matt thought. He wasn't going to be getting any of that. He could go find his own or mooch off of someone else. Not answering Henry's question, Matt tried to go over to his bag and pick it up in a way that seemed entirely unrelated to the question Henry had just asked. Of course, he had failed - it was obvious that he didn't want him to have any of his food.

Might as well answer him. "Uh.. sorry, I kinda want to keep all my food for myself. Gotta look out for number one, right?" He heard a little tiny voice in his head calling him an asshole, but he didn't particularly care. With the kind of situation they were all in, he really did have to look out for himself. Still - he didn't want to look too heartless. "But, uh, if we run into any food.. it's yours. I guess." Something about this guy seemed off. He didn't seem dangerous, but there was something a bit strange about him.

Forget About What I Said
"Food, yeah. I.. don't really know what to do about that. I don't think there's any food on this island, so the only source of it, uh, is.. you know." Other people. Sooner or later, just eating was going to start being an issue. Just another thing to throw onto the growing pile of 'issues involving surviving', he thought. He wasn't so keen on robbing people - not yet, anyways - because getting brutally murdered for stealing from someone else was low on his list of things to do on this impromptu vacation he'd been forced to take. If he had to put it somewhere, it'd be between tripping and breaking a leg or getting paralyzed.

Sure, he thought. Dying might not be so bad, as long as it wasn't that drawn out. He could only hope for the best, really - the 'best' being something like getting his throat cut while he was asleep. Maybe thinking like this was a bad thing to do - he didn't have to die, really. Other people had to, not him. Sure. He could try. Maybe things wouldn't be as hard as they seemed.

Have to be ready for action, he said. Nate opened the door and suddenly he felt as unready for action as he could possibly be - another person. Talking to Nate. Sounded like he had no idea him or Ben were in here. Should he wait? Maybe this guy was trying to size Nate up, or something. Making sure he didn't have any friends with him so he could kill him. Matt looked at Ben and didn't say anything - he just raised a finger to his mouth and tried to stay as still as possible. Best to see what happened next, he thought.

Just had to wait.

Forget About What I Said
Matt sat up, not really paying attention to however Nate and Ben were reacting to the announcement - he had his own things to think about. He'd heard the announcer describe in great detail what had happened. Who died, and who killed them.. but he didn't feel all that much except for maybe some dull, gnawing feeling in the back of his brain that he should be feeling something other than relief. Sure, they were people with families, pets, whatever - but they weren't him. They were one less person who might have killed him. He didn't know any of them, either. Maybe if it was someone he knew that had gotten killed, he'd feel sad.

He desperately hoped that anyone he did know wasn't here. That maybe they were sick that day, or something, and couldn't come.

Nate was crying and it looked like Ben had taken up the task of trying to calm him down. They were going to make 'em pay, he said. Matt didn't say anything, but he definitely had a newly found appreciation of Nate and Ben who, as far as he was concerned, were his best friends until proven otherwise. Not trying to kill him was the only criteria they had to meet, and so far they were meeting it and more.

From what he could gather, a few of his esteemed peers had decided to take up the exciting hobby of murdering people. Isabel, Alvaro, whoever else - no one he really knew. Sure, they were killing people - that was a good enough reason to be afraid of them - but he bet they weren't killing entire groups of people. Of course they could sneak up on someone and do their business, but being with two other people might make them think twice. Turns out there really is strength in numbers after all, he thought.


Eventually, things quieted down. Maybe it was time to start thinking about what to do next. They could stay here, sure, but he wasn't entirely a fan of spending the next day or two in a storage closet. This place had to have had a lounge for staff, or something, right? That, and he doubted the food that he had in his bag would last more than a day. Two, if he was frugal.

"So.. uh. What'd we do now? I kinda don't want to spend the rest of the day in a closet. And, uh.. maybe we should talk about food, or something. I don't think they gave us a lot."

Forget About What I Said
This was a shitty day, all things considered. Sure, he'd had some real bad days in the past - he could recall more than a few - but this really took the cake. Getting trapped on a fucking island after being kidnapped by terrorists. Meeting Nate and Ben didn't do much to make him feel better about it, mostly because neither of them were assigned a boat. He guessed that he appreciated their company, at the very least. Two people who weren't threatening that weren't going to kill him.

He tried to sleep when it wasn't his turn to watch. He was tired, sure - getting thrown into a life or death situation can do that - but he had a lot to think about. This meant he didn't sleep well at all, of course. Sure, he'd been fortunate to find not only Nate, but Nate's friend, of all people shortly thereafter.. but maybe anyone else they ran across wouldn't be so.. normal. So willing to not take advantage of this whole situation everyone was in.

Give it another day or two, he thought. Everyone but them is going to be going fucking crazy by then. Who knew - maybe Cochise's best were already busy putting on a good show for the sick fucks who watch this? He could only guess.

So he slept. Poorly. He dreamed that he was in middle school again - up until now the closest analogue to hell that he knew - and getting the shit beaten out of him by someone he didn't know. Someone big, dumb and fuckin' mean. Out of nowhere, the guy beating on him produced a hammer, raised it above his head.. the announcement came, waking him up.

Nine people, dead. No one he knew. Nine less people who might have killed him, he thought. Nine less people that he might have had to kill. He didn't have to guess anymore, at least.

He had nothing to say, but he wanted to fill the silence that hung in the air. He wanted to, but he just couldn't. He really had nothing to say. So he just sat there, waiting for nothing in particular.

Forget About What I Said
Really, things were almost going too well. Sure, he'd only been here for - what, an hour? - but he'd managed to run into Nate and one of Nate's friends. No one with a gun. No one who wanted to kill him. No one who really wanted to do anything, it seemed. Maybe things were going to be okay. Of course, he guessed he was the odd one out in this group.. Nate knew Ben and vice versa, but neither of them knew him. He didn't want to think about what that might eventually entail. At least not now.

Matt put his hands in his pockets, trying to seem as casual as possible without actually feeling at ease. Had he seen anything bad - good question, he thought. It was going to happen sooner or later, but he hadn't seen anything yet.

"Uh, no. Can't say I have. Just the chapel and this place." He looked around. "It's, ahh.. pretty.. hm, something." He hadn't thought too hard about what this place really was. An asylum. An old one. The kind where they were probably still doing lobotomies and electroshock therapy before it got shut down, abandoned, whatever.

"Yeah, hey. Matt Moradi. It's good to meet you, I guess."

Nate wanted aspirin. Matt didn't really want anything, just someplace to sit down where no one was going to sneak up on him and shoot him, or something crazy like that. Matt moved to enter the storage closet, not saying anything else.