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Grim Wolf
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The Very Best
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Sitting around the fire as night fell around them, David began to feel a little less crazy.

Not entirely recovered, of course--that would be insane. David had only briefly recovered from his fear yesterday, and in running he'd found a way both to stay alive, feel safe, and remind himself why he liked to live. The groaning and grinding of muscles pushed to their extremes, the feeling of air forced into your lungs by breathing, lifting your body up, refreshing it, the pounding of the heart and temples, each deep, resounding beat a gentle reminder that yes, you are still alive and yes, you are working and yes, your are a goddamn engine of movement and power and raw, untouched life.

He liked these others--Jenkins was a little bit standoffish but he wasn't mean, and Janet and Imraan were simply nice. He'd found it in him to help Imraan with his little project (get picked up from the air? Made sense to David), and then was able to sit in front of the fire. It was nice to no longer be running, nice to not have this wild panic forcing him to flee from anyone and anything he saw.

He looked down at his shirt.

It was the one he'd bought from SMBC--the one with the picture of the two men mounted on blindfolded bears hitting a lit stick of dynamite over a volleyball net, tennis rackets in hand. "The Most Dangerous Game."

There was a metaphor here somewhere, but David had never been too good at English and was in no mood to think about it.

"Hey..." someone gasped.

David looked up. There was a boy standing at the edge of the trees, a boy David didn't recognize. The relief was evident in his face, and David offered him a smile. He'd felt precisely the same way when he'd found these people--felt it even more now, in fact. These were good people, people who wouldn't kill, people who liked life just as much as he did.

They had to survive. They absolutely had to survive. David refused to consider any other alternative.

"Hey," he replied to Daniel, as soon as Imraan had finished speaking. "You should stick around." He jerked his head to encompass the whole group around the circle. "These, uh...these are good people."

And then Cody was running, fire axe extended, and the air was filled with the deafening cacophany of gunfire.

David wasn't complex enough to have regrets right now. David wasn't complex enough to really dwell on whether or not these were good people, whether they could have been friends, whether it was cowardly to run or not. All David could think was JESUS and then he was on his feet and running, ripping off in the opposite direction, not even pausing to scream.

He left them behind him. Cody, who he'd seen fall. Daniel, Imraan, Janet, whose fates he didn't know. And the boy standing in the trees, gun out and smiling.

There were evil people on this island, and David wasn't sure he was worth anything in the face of someone who could look like that while gunning down his classmates. All David knew, through the melancholy twinge that hit him as he thought of those he'd just left behind, was that he didn't want to die.

He had to survive. He absolutely had to survive. He refused to consider any other alternative.

(David Meramac continued in Fountain of Youth)
Edited by Grim Wolf, Oct 27 2010, 12:08 AM.
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