"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
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((Coleen Reagan continued from Where are all the doctors?))

Tears streamed down both cheeks while the announcements played over in Coleen's mind.

"Cameron Herrig took a pickaxe to the stomach courtesy of our newest challenger to take up the game, Alessio Rigano."
"Cameron Herrig took a pickaxe to the stomach."
"Cameron Herrig. Pickaxe. Stomach."
"Cameron Herrig."
"Cameron."


She gripped at intersections of chain link fence and left it to her fingers to carry the terrible weight in her stomach. One of her best friends, the one responsible for bringing her into the tightest-knit group she'd ever been a part of, was now dead. Somewhere on this island, not even getting the grave she deserved, was Cam's body. Coleen's head pushed against the fence as her body lowered against her will. Some of the chain links caught and pulled at her hair, but she could hardly care. The pain was a momentary distraction from the cloud in her brain.

Over the course of the night, Coleen had hoped that maybe the other band members were safe and, perhaps, she was the only one who had been taken. Climbing to the top of the pit wouldn't be easy, not when she'd have to rise up on the body of others, but Peyote Coyote was one of her reasons to live. It was the rope that tied her to the top of the cliff and prevented her from jumping off. With Cameron dead, so too did the band die. Coleen knew they'd never be able to go on without her, even if B.B., Brady and Vanessa all somehow miraculously survived.

"I didn't even get..." she choked, pulling away from the fence and parting with a few more strands of hair. Her fingers ran out of strength and she tumbled back onto her rear end, just two feet away from where her pack had been dropped upon hearing the dreaded toll.

"Cams..." Coleen's voice cracked as she squeaked it out, covering her eyes. Her cheek stung from the saltiness of her tears on the sensitive patch. Just like the fence with her hair, she practically welcomed the pain.

"to take up the game, Alessio Rigano."
"Alessio Rigano."


The shriek may have been born of sadness, frustration, rage or all of the above. All Coleen knew was she had never made a sound quite like that one before.
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