"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...
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Alright. It was people. Two of them, a girl and a boy. They'd called out to him, not opened fire, not acted aggressively in the slightest. More than that, they had identified themselves. Jasper and Carly. They were, at least for now, friendly. Isaiah released his breath, and his posture eased, tension he hadn't even noticed flowing from him. Sure, he had no idea who these two were (though, for some reason, he had this idea that Jasper was a weird guy), but decent civility was enough to recommend them for the moment.

Then they called out to someone else, causing Isaiah to start. He hadn't been very aware if he'd missed another newcomer, had he? That wasn't good. Maybe staying up all night digging a grave hadn't been such a hot move, at least from the perspective of survival. It had been the right thing to do, though, and hey, he hadn't been killed yet. This other guy wasn't coming in shooting either, so maybe they'd be able to have a nice time together, make friends, share a few moments before heading off to their fates.

Isaiah was not looking for long term allies, at least, not any who did not share his mission. Given that it was quite nebulously defined, he wasn't really counting on finding anyone. It would be lonely, but so it goes sometimes.

"I'm Isaiah," he called out. "Isaiah Garvey. I'm not looking for any trouble. A little rest sounds great right about now."

Isaiah did not abandon all pretense of caution, with the other person still an unknown quantity, but he made his way towards the others as casually as he could. He felt oddly blessed by his run of luck so far. As soon as he had overcome his fear, had destroyed his self-deception, he had run into nothing but nice, helpful people. Maybe it had just been a big mistake back at the tower. Maybe his own hostility had provoked JJ and the fat guy—realization hit Isaiah hard. It had been lurking in the back of his mind for some time, just beneath the surface, but the boy on the beach, the one Andrew had buried, with the screwed up head, he'd been the guy from the tower. He'd been one of the ones causing trouble, and now he was gone, just like that.

It was proved, then. Aggression was morally wrong, and would not go unpunished. Those who lived by the gun fell to bullets. Not that that made him feel any better about not having recognized the poor guy. No matter what crimes he had been guilty of, he hadn't deserved such "justice" as this. No one deserved to die.

So why?

Time for that later. Isaiah was close enough to smile and give a little wave to the other two, while glancing around, looking for the other guy. Maybe they could get a little bit of genuine camping done after all.
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Late Dawns and Early Sunsets · The Felled Forest: North