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Ruggahissy
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i'm not upset
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Underfoot the dirt crunched as he approached the shack. He looked down and saw blood staining the ground. His fingers constricted against his stick and he looked at Feo. He went first, opening the door quietly. Taking a few steps inside, he found himself to be in a lounge/kitchen area. The sofa looked like it had been moved around, sitting at an odd angle to the rest of the furniture. Past that, the carpet changed to tile. There was a an oven, a sink and a refrigerator. He walked heel to toe past the kitchen to a small hall with two doors on either side. Ethan first opened the door to the right, finding an empty room with a dirty bed. Instinctively, he reached to the light switch near the door and flicked it up. Nothing.

Of course. They cut the power.

A quick duck down revealed no one under the bed waiting to ambush them. All that was left was the room on the right. He turned the knob and pushed against the door with his left arm and shoulder. It was a little office and it too was empty, meaning the house was safe. His eyes scanned the room and he saw the computer, his old, dear friend. He’d been without computers for almost four whole days and a rush of happiness flooded him. It was an old PC but it made him warm inside. It made him think of his babies back home. He missed his lap tops and PC. He knelt down the computer and turned the unit. It looked fine. He pushed the start button, but the screen remained blank.

“Right. No electricity. Okaaaaaay. Whatever, not like this place has internet access anyway. What the fuck did I think I was gonna do? Play minesweeper the rest of the time?”

He stood up and noticed the filing cabinets. Ethan yanked them open and started sifting through the papers. Campsite rules and regulations, shopping lists. Boring. He moved to another drawer and pulled out a handful of papers. They were all records for a logging operation.

Oh yeah. I woke up in a saw mill. That makes sense.

Much to his annoyance, the records didn’t have any useful information. There was no hint as to their location or names that he could recognize. It was all just records of the amount spent and earned and the amount they were producing He slammed the filing cabinet shut and went to the desk. He pulled open a drawer and found extra paper. He threw it closed. Another drawer, this one was totally empty, but showed signs of being formerly used by scratches on the inside. He shoved it closed as hard as he could. The last drawer was full of office supplies. Pencils, pens, white out, post it notes and erasers. Angrily he started sifting around the supplies.

“What the fuck kind of ranger station is this? Did they take everything that possibly could have been useful? Multi tools, pocket knife, emergency rations, radio, maps? That is fuckin’ weak,” he grumbled.

For all his searching, the only thing close to a tool he found was a standard, slightly dull, pair of needle nose pliers. He sighed, stuck them in his pocket and walked back out to the front of the station and dragged the broken bicycle inside to the office where he left his bag. He threw it down and looked at it.

“It’s going to be a pain to dismantle with just a pair of pliers. This sucks. This whole thing sucks. Maybe it’s old enough it’ll break into sharp metal pieces. Breaking shit with my hands, it’s barbaric. It’d much rather b-“

And then there was the spark. His eyes temporarily widened before squeezing tight. He shook his head and looked around the room. Every fiber of his being had gone into hyper mode and he coughed, hoping it would help reduce his nervous excitement. He bit his lip and looked around. Slowly, trying very very slowly, he reached across to his bag and felt around till he pulled out his backpack. He drew back the zipper, hearing ever individual track the zipper ran over and when it was wide enough he pulled out a note book and a pencil.

Stay calm. Don’t let them see. My god, I’m a fucking genius. I’m a god damn fucking genius. Though I’m kind of an idiot for not having noticed earlier, but we’ll ignore that.

He opened to a blank page. Looking up there were two camera’s in the room, one in the corner near the door where he had come in and one in the corner diagonal. Ethan scooted so that his back was against the corner of the camera across from the door and bent low over his note book, keeping it close to him. He wrote furiously, scribbled, drew. Finally he smiled. It was a long shot, but it might work. However there was one problem…..

The cameras. They’d push the “EXPLODE” button as soon as they realized what he was doing.

Ethan doubted Danya didn’t have at least one tech person who wouldn’t figure it out. He chewed on the edge of his pencil and after much thought, he understood what it had to be.

It has to be me. There’s no other way. There’s just no other way. I would get a patsy to do it if I could, but they’d hear me. No. They have to think I’ve just completely lost it. I don’t have to do this though. We can leave this hut and pretend we never found it. And then what would I do? Hang out with Feo for a while more until we got our asses killed by some psycho school kid? Let’s think about this. Sure, I’m badass, but is that enough for me to win? Before I would have tried for it at least, but this is a third option. Fuck me, I could never walk away from this place knowing I could have done something really cool AND MAYBE fucked the hell out of Danya’s plan. I…..I have to. I have to show that piece of shit what happens when you try to fuck over someone as awesome as me. Oh, and the rest of my class too. I guess. It’s a long long shot, but if it works…..well, they better fucking…name something after me or something.

Ethan looked up at Feo. Despite himself, he smiled a bit. He sighed and started writing in the notebook.

I have to get her out of this house. I have to do it without raising suspicion.
He was done. That was it. He ripped three pages out of the note book, folded them in half together and set them aside. Ethan took a deep breath and wiped he eyes underneath his glasses.

“Find anything good?”
things
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House of the Rising Sun · The Ranger Station