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Ciel
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"That’s not a prediction, that’s a spoiler.”
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
(Scout Pfeiffer continued from And What You Get, Isn't What You See.)

Nancy Kyle. Isabel Ramirez. Kimiko Kao.

Those were the names. It took repeating it more than a dozen times but she had it.

Nancy Kyle. Isabel Ramirez. Kimiko Kao.

She knew who Nancy was. Vaguely recalled Ramirez. Had no idea who Kao was. Probably a senior. There were other names, and she remembered those too, but those three were the important ones. The ones to keep tabs on. The people she needed to find.

Scout had boarded herself up in the cabin. There had been someone in here before. She found the cabin just as some blonde chick was walking out. She hid, waited until they left. Now it was Scouts. Finders keepers, all that bullshit. Now she was sitting reclined in the living room, her feet kicked up on a table. She had the bonesaw in her one hand.

Nancy Kyle. Isabel Ramirez. Kimiko Kao. Three names.

Scout did not need paper. Her brain was all she needed, and she was far, far better with names than with faces. She did not hear Alvaro Vacanti's name. Good boy. She also did not hear Clarice's name either which was more of a relief. But Scout knew the longer the days went on, the odds of hearing her name was going to skyrocket. That made her skin crawl.

Hope wasn't going to get her anywhere though. Hoping, praying, wishing on a star. So fuck it. Scout was intending to row her own goddamn boat now. No more thinking, more doing.

Nancy Kyle. Isabel Ramirez. Kimiko Kao.

She gripped the handle of the bonesaw. Brought it down onto the wood of the table, put all of her strength into it. The sharp teeth dug into the petrified wood. Didn't take a huge chomp out of it, but the indentations were clear. She stared at the teeth, each straight and narrow. Sharp enough, she figured.

... She wondered if she could actually manage it. There were three names now, but there was bound to be more. Lots more.

Quite frankly? Sitting there in the living room of an abandoned hunting lounge, Scout could not find the slightest ounce of a fuck to give.
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