"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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Nanotech Engineer
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Another unfamiliar feeling of impact. Lack of muscle memory could be annoying. The kick had missed its mark; the distance between the two hadn't allowed for him to hit high enough. Still, it did the job, and Lucas hit the ground. Peter drew himself up, doing his best to maintain an assertive stance, and stepped forward so that he was right on top of Lucas. The gun had fallen from his hand and had bounced several feet away; Peter would take care of that later.

"I told you to put the gun down," Peter said, letting the adrenaline do the work of hardening his voice. "I don't know why I'm repeating it again; even after I told you I wasn't repeating it." His eyes flitted up to the treeline, but Ericka still had not reappeared. Perhaps she had already run off. That would make things simpler. "And because you were stupid enough to not listen the first time- hell you were stupid enough to be pointing guns around in the first place, everything went to hell and people started shooting. This is all your fault."
Not just his fault. My fault. Ericka's fault. Everybody's fault.
A frown of disapproval crept across Peter's face. "I might have given you the benefit of the doubt. You've got a lot of reason to be jumpy. You had plenty of reason to shoot back at Ericka; not that it clears you of responsibility. That's all fine and dandy." Peter couldn't really describe the tone his voice was taking anymore. It was primal, authoritative, and a whole lot of angry emotion, but that was only scratching the surface. "But you crossed the line when you fired at Eiko: an unarmed innocent girl that had nothing to do with this. You're a fucking murdering scumbag."
That doesn't mean I have to drop to that level.
Peter moved his arm, the blade moving with it. From his analysis the day before, he could tell that the sword was not made for stabbing. The curved shape and the design of the grip had clearly marked the sword as a slashing weapon. If he was going to get any mileage out of it, there were only a few places he could hit. He placed the tip on the dirt next to the targeted area, and then rotated his grip back to a normal one. The edge was probably sharp enough to cut where he needed, but having the extra strength a normal grip afforded gave him some leeway.

Something caught Peter's eye; something he should have seen earlier: the large red stain on Lucas' shirt. Momentary confusion gave way to clarity. Peter didn't need to do anything; Lucas would die from the gunshot in a few hours regardless. Peter could walk away and not have to worry about this. That would be an easy solution.
Don't be a coward. Finish the fucking job.
Except it wasn't easy. If he ran, then Ericka would get credited with the kill. That wasn't right; she hadn't meant to be a killer. This was all a huge clusterfuck of miscommunication that had started with Lucas. Ericka was not a murderer, and Peter wasn't going to let her get branded with that title. But that didn't even matter; Lucas had shot at Eiko. He was going to protect Eiko, and he wasn't going to be able to do that if he couldn't handle a murderer. Maybe this time it was easy to get off without having to do anything, but on a long enough timeline, the probability of needing to kill would approach 1. Peter needed to prove that he could protect Eiko. Running away now would prove nothing.
Well, it would prove that I'm a coward. And useless dead weight. But we can't have that now can we.
Also, there was something innately cruel about leaving somebody to bleed out slowly from a stomach wound.
Murder is crueler. I don't need to do this. Except I do.
The resolve had faded with the realization, but he had to play it through. Not just because of Ericka's suggestion, but because it was what had to be done. "You know what I'm going to do to mudering scumbags?" Peter did his best to maintain the tone he had used before. He could only hope that he could keep up the illusion. Lucas' eyes, though darkened, reflected something incomprehensible up at Peter; he could only guess at what was meant to be communicated through their gaze. "I'm going to make sure none of them get off this island."
By becoming a murderer myself. The hypocrisy is clear. Not that there's a better option.
There was a moment of hesitation. Parts of him screamed out how wrong his intentions were, rebuffed by by the parts that saw the necessity. Right and wrong... now was not the time to be musing about those matters.
What better time? Why sit around and make hypothetical situations when what matters is reality?
Peter jerked his arm, raking the sharp edge of his sword across the tender skin and flesh of Lucas' neck. Carotid artery, jugular vein, trachea, and anything else of note in the area met and parted under it. It was the best way of using a bladed slashing weapon. Fast. Simple. Effective.

B036: Benjamin Ward: "Sh-shut the fuck up. Or I'll k-kick your ass."
B047: Marcus Leung: "Let's start by staying calm."


Rest in peace

B004 - Peter Siu: "We're all fuck-ups."
G006 - Tiffany Baker: "Will you stay with me, until I wake up?"
G027 - Marybeth Witherspoon: "The cameras are pointing here, not there."
B115 - Tony Russo: "I'm sorry...."
G087 - Rachel Gettys: "I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell."
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