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You've been counting stars, now you're counting on me
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The stitching pricked. Kimberly didn't watch. She didn't think about it. Compared to being shot it the arm, it hardly mattered. Funny, how she'd already fallen so low. What a difference in perspective a few minutes could make. Thinking back that short time, Kimberly found that she hated herself, hated the fraud she had been. Hated that she had been so scared as to pretend.

Didn't mean she wasn't gonna fuck Kris up for changing her, though.

Then Sarah surprised Kimberly by agreeing to come along. Well. That would make things easier. Not that she needed them to be. She had total confidence that she could succeed at her mission alone. She still suspected she would have to. There was a good chance Sarah was coming along, not to help out, but out of some misplaced hope of cooling Kimberly down in a day or two, when the pain and insult were less immediate. Fat chance. Kimberly had her course. She would stay true to it.

Sarah called for the others. Dutchy and Roland. They'd be coming too, it seemed. Brilliant. Now she would have some sort of fucking procession. This was going to be complicated by the fact that, when they caught Kris, it was almost guaranteed one of the group would choke, would find themselves unable to do what needed to be done. What Kimberly wanted to be done. That would pose a serious danger. Kimberly did not fancy the idea of counting on anyone but herself when the key moment came. She wanted total control of that eventual showdown. She wanted to be able to make Kris see what she had done, make her feel that helpless, that lost, make her understand just what she had stolen from Kimberly.

And then?

Time for that later. For now, they had to get moving. And then Bridget added her pledge to the mix. It was... well, it would have been sweet if it didn't piss Kimberly off. Bridget was getting good at that. She was going to follow Kimberly? Follow her everywhere she went? Like hell she would. No, Kimberly was already planning ways to get some personal space. She would be nobody's ward. It would be simple. Slip off at night, while the others slept, just for a little bit. Spend some time with herself and no one else.

She shifted a little. It felt like the stitching was done. She didn't want to see it. She wished her left arm would just disappear and stop bothering her, if it wasn't going to be useful. It certainly seemed like she'd never be using the limb again. And, just great, that was sure to mess up her guitar playing. Not that she'd ever get a chance again, most likely. Ugh. Not the time for those thoughts. Pull it together, sit up, and get moving soon. If they waited here much longer, someone was sure to find them. That, or Kimberly would just go crazy from the inactivity and take off.

"Hey," she said, "one of you... hand me my bags, okay? I need... a few things." She wanted to sort through it quickly, get what she needed, ditch what she didn't. There were a few items in particular she felt like she could use. Her weapon. Something to cover her arm. She felt exposed with the wound uncovered like it was. Weak. Easy prey. She'd be traveling light here, she realized. No other choice with her arm. Fucking Kris. She would pay for this. Each inconvenience, each trial and challenge to overcome, they all could be blamed on Kris. Revenge, when it came, would be so sweet. Speaking of, she should share her idea about finding help with the others, since there was at least one other person who would have reason to loathe Kris as much as Kimberly did.

"I think we should also find... Reiko," she added. "She'll probably want to help us, since Kris... killed her sister and all."
Juliette Sargent drawn by Mimi and Ryuki
Alton Gerow drawn by Mimi
Lavender Ripley drawn by Mimi
Phillip Olivares drawn by Ryuki
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D-Day · The Beach: East