"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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MurderWeasel
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Somehow we drifted off too far...
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((Jennifer Perez continued from Spelunking))

It was unreal. Entirely impossible to believe. The announcements had come and gone once more, and Jennifer realized that, with the exception of the killing she had witnessed, none of the names would connect to faces. Sure, they made impressions. She could grasp at straws (Eve? Didn't she have a kid or something?), but she couldn't really bring herself to care. People were dying. Too fucking bad, but not everyone was gone yet. The living had to take priority. Yes. Don't think of the dead. They're nothing now.

Jennifer and Phil had been traveling towards the Eastern side of the island. They had passed by the House of Mirrors, but had seen nothing to imply the presence of Maf, and the place did not seem a wise area to stick around too long, with the potential for ambushes and chaos. It was, all things considered, a terrible place to suggest a meeting. The central location, sheer slope backing, and presumably-confusing interior combined to make the building a likely deathtrap. And that's where she had told Bill to have Maf meet her. Fuck.

After that, they had headed further east. The thought had been to search the infirmary to replenish their first aid kits, assuming it hadn't already been ransacked by other students or looted by the terrorists, and then scope out the mansion as a temporary resting place. Danya's announcement, coming as it did right as they neared the area, had put an end to both plans, as well as proving pretty disheartening for Jennifer.

For a time, they hadn't been quite sure what to do. Finally, they had made their way back West, figuring that, if Danya wanted to get students moving from central eastern areas, it would be best to be far away from the ensuing chaos. They had, once again, passed the House of Mirrors. Jennifer was starting to hope that Bill never met up with Maf after all, that they'd all just stumble into each other and things would be perfect, or at least as perfect as they could be with everyone doomed to die terribly in the next few days or weeks.

Around forty dead. It was almost unthinkable. Not the deaths, not really, but that Jennifer had somehow managed to live this long. She'd been within feet of a killing. Been in multiple tense situations with guns. By all rights, she should have faced some sort of serious threat to her health, but everyone seemed to simply ignore her or actively go out of their way to avoid hurting her. She had screamed into the face of a killer, and he had encouraged her, had told her she was better than him, had done everything he could to help her.

It made no sense. It was almost as if she was living a charmed existence. Phil was proof that people could get seriously hurt without dying, though he'd been holding up quite well, considering. Jennifer wondered how many uninjured, well-rested people were on the island.

It didn't matter now, though. What mattered was that they'd been on their feet for a long, long time. True, they'd had a lot of rest the day before. Jennifer was pretty sure she could keep going for a long time, but she didn't want to push it. It was time for a break. They were in the forest where Jennifer had spent her first night. It was relatively quiet and calm, with the sounds of insects and animals the only disruption of the still air. Jennifer said, "Hey, um, you mind if we take a quick rest here?"

Then, that done, she sat against a tree, popping out her water bottle. She was starting to run low. That wasn't good, not at all. They'd have to find somewhere to refill soon.

She looked over at Phil and said, "Hey, um, I'm really sorry to have, um, dragged you around everywhere. Thanks for putting up with me."
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Still Going Strong · The Woods: Coastal