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Don't cast aspersions on my asparagus.
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"Thanks, man," Dougal muttered, catching the shotgun as Albert tossed it over to him. Right, he knew the basics of loading a shotgun. That was the bit you put the shells in, and pumping the shotgun did...something. It wasn't just for making a dramatic noise, he knew that. Still, he had a pretty good chance of survival with this. And as Albert produced an instruction manual and a box of shells from his bag, Dougal took them off of Al's hands and stuffed the box and the book in his pockets. He'd read it when they were travelling, make sure he knew what to do and had the shotgun prepared for a surprise attack. "Alright, let's get going away from this mountain."

As he set off walking towards the trees, he asked Al a question. "So, what do you think we should do? Play this game a bit, or just keep to ourselves?" Rescue and escape would be impossible. Hell, even if the SAS or CIA or something found this island, Danya would just detonate the collars.

He had a hunch someone was nearby, but he didn't care. He just kept his eyes ahead off him, making sure he didn't trip, ignoring any sounds coming back from the mountain. In an ideal world, Dougal wouldn't come across anyone else, friend, foe or neutral, until the final four, then Albert would have a quick, painless death thanks to one of the other two, and the remaining two would kill each other, and he'd get to go home with as much of his sanity intact as possible. But that wouldn't happen, so until then he'd just stay vigilant and try and stay away from others. Hopefully Albert would do the same.
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Dude, how come I feel like i'm not in Kansas anymore? · The Mountain