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((Jimmy Robertson continued from Heartbeat Symphony))

Unlike Alan walking in front of him, Jimmy's thoughts on the walk from the mine had been less fantastical. To him, saving people was a worthy goal, but the way Jimmy was thinking about it was simply Who's not crazy? It had been a long walk, and they had clearly lost themselves (although in fact, they had nowhere to go in particular), so it was almost surprising when Jimmy found himself back in the same wooded area that he had met up with David Meramac (actually, it was a different wooded area, but still ...), and then ...


"Kids, when I first looked through the dossiers we have on you guys, I was thinking no way no how were a bunch of saps like you going to provide much of a spectacle. I'm ever so glad you've all proved me so completely wrong. Ladies and gentlemen, as of this, the third announcement, a further twenty-three of your peers have bitten the dust. Outstanding, kiddies. Simply outstanding."

What? Twenty-three? That meant that there were, what, sixty people dead so far? How far were these people willing to go (Ahem ... Sarah Atwell?)?

... Deidre Paul, who took a tumble into the swamp and didn't come back out. For those of you keeping score at home, that's island four, dumb kids, nil. Next of the pathetic saps crew we had Simon Fletcher, who didn't even have the balls to off HIMSELF, and had to get Samantha Ridley to do it for him. Shame on you Simon, now Samantha has to live with shame and guilt tormenting her for the rest of her doubtlessly short life. Shame on you. Brock Mason finally found a gun that he could operate... although too bad for him it was pointing in the wrong direction ...

Deidre AND Brock were dead? Shit. (He didn't realize it yet, but he had also met Samantha Ridley on the very first day, although Danys's wording may have made Jimmy a little more sympathetic to Samantha) Things were going downhill for any type of fight (Although at this time, both Liz Polanski and Ethan Kent were both making attempts to escape, or at least screw with the game, but that was neither here nor there)...

... fat people are not in fact bulletproof and offing Craig Hoyle. That was not good. He knew Craig Hoyle from football. The guy didn't have a mean bone in his body, meaning either he snapped, which meant this game was really taking its toll on people, or even worse, that someone decided to up and kill poor Craig without provocation (the guy was way too nice to give anyone an actual reason to kill), meaning that there were people willing to do anything to win.

That had been the morning, and now it was the afternoon. Alan had gone into hiding by one of the stumps again, having noticed some people.

"Jimmy, look over there. There's some people over there, do you think they've turned, or are they like us. But you know what? I'm tired of hiding in places and putting you in danger like this, I'm going across with you." Alan whispered as he got up, and stopped, a little scared in that the students ahead of them were playing to win. "It's just ... Can you go ahead of me, I'll be right here behind you, I promise." Jimmy scratched his head for a second, mulling it over. (It's always me, right? Because I'm big and strong and have the good weapon.) This was, of course, his inner attitude speaking, amplified by the situation, and a lack of proper sleep habits.

"Yeah. Just stay right behind me." Jimmy peered at the group ahead of him. The group ahead of him seemed ... actually not that bad from seventy-five feet away (A closer look would have revealed some slight tension but nothing too bad). He just took a few steps forward, took a deep breath, and called out:

"Oh, my God! You're the first friendly group that I've seen in a while." (Which actually echoed his sentiments - he didn't see the mounting tension from his distance)
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