"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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shotgunkid
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not in a position to bargain anymore
[ * ]
((Leslie Price continued from ONE MILLION TROOPS.))

Panic first. She hadn't known if it had been hours or days. The sun was in the wrong place when she had woken up, and everything felt lilted now as though it were a dream again. Somewhere along the line, she'd chided her past self for not reading up on the symptoms of concussions and serious head injuries, but it had been too late for such regrets the moment she entered the school bus.

Those she was pursuing were long gone, thankfully. A while after waking up, her mind was steeling itself for the routine exercises she had become so familiar with, only to be interrupted by a familiar, loud whine and Danya's voice - the announcement!
The energy faded faster this time. It almost felt as though she was getting used to island life, which was. Okay, maybe. New names, new humor, new advice. Crematorium a dangerzone. Best kill award, seeya tomorrow kids, signing off! Quite more verbose than that, but somehow Danya's voice carried a strangely dull air today. Perhaps bored or tired? Definitely fatigued, but she couldn't place her fingers on precisely how.

It was jarring to feel that, really. He had seemed so perfectly satisfied and self-confident executing Graham and in the previous announcements. Why would boredom set in now, especially when he certainly had a instant-replay view, from many angles, of each and every death? He seemed to relish in the little verbal jabs and twists he dealt out.

More to the point, she'd let go again. Her emotions had controlled her again! She hadn't been defending herself as she had envisioned. No, now she was running around trying to chase dangerous individuals unarmed based on her changing whims. That was just as bad. Worse. Combat couldn't only be something she felt was retaliatory, it absolutely, utterly, had to be something even the most dogged prosecutor would accept as legitimate self-defense. It felt like the only way to be morally secure. At least she hadn't managed to act on the opportunity to kill for real. If she had killed Green Hair Boy or the tiny Asian chick, her mind boggled at the notion of how she'd manage to forgive herself if Danya had come up today, read off names, and hers came up along with her victim's and it turned out they'd done nothing wrong and she was a cold-blooded murderer and-

CRACK CRACK

-all that was pushed out of her mind in an instant. Gunshots dive for the ground where were they. Dead ahead of the building's front! Where was the front where was the front, fumble for the map and tear it in several places trying to unfold it fast. The radio tower was dead ahead. Someone with a gun and willing to use it immediately represented a clear and present threat. Okay, maybe it would take an NRA prosecutor to exonerate her from this. Didn't matter. She didn't care.

Bolt out the front doors, run toward the warehouse gate and take a left what does she see first it's Nancy Kyle the weeb girl she didn't remember much about but had been on the list for two days now and covered in blood she'd almost certainly just killed someone no one would blame Leslie Price for getting rid of her now and she was

staring at the sky she was distracted!! go go go

Without much more thought than that, Leslie simply flung herself at Nancy in a crude attempt to tackle her. She'd just beat her to death or snatch the gun and shoot her with it, the specifics weren't very important.
2015: V6 Incident
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If It Bleeds, It Leads · The Radio Tower