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You've been counting stars, now you're counting on me
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((Since Kimberly's a ways from Sierra, and Mimi's been Away, I'm skipping here))

Someone had fucked with the collars. Someone had fucked with the cameras. Someone had died for it. All to be expected.

What was not to be expected was that the person who'd blown up was not the one who'd been monkeying the system. That made it pretty damn easy to tell what had happened. Someone had actually pulled it off. Someone, in this case, was Liz Polanski. A name with an attached face, nothing more. Not one of Sarah's group. So, this Liz Polanski had messed things up. Had gotten the terrorists all hot and bothered. Well, good for her, except for one little thing. She'd gotten someone else killed. There was a face for Daisuke, too. Kimberly didn't really give a fuck, though. Nah, what was eating at her was that it wasn't only Daisuke who'd been on the line. It was each and every one of them. There were what, a couple hundred people left alive? Say two hundred. That means there was a half a percent chance of Kimberly getting popped instead of Daisuke. A one-in-two-hundred shot of her exploding instantly, no chance to look her attacker in the face and spit at them, no chance to take Kris down with her. Bang. Gone. All because some bitch had to play hero.

Kimberly's anger was not hot. It was not cold. It simply was. She was wrapped up in it. Forgot where she was. Someone had risked her life. No opt-out like with Sarah. No chance to dive to the side like with Kris. No, just Liz Polanski treating Kimberly like an object, like some sort of fucking game piece. Yeah, Kimberly, fuck her, I wanna get off this island, and I'm gonna do whatever it takes. Fuck that. Fucking player, that's what she was. Do whatever it took to get off the island, and who cares how many people die? No better than Maxwell or Clio or Kris. No, worse. Worse than them. At least they'd had the guts to watch when they pulled the trigger. This girl, she was a coward, hiding behind some sort of moral high ground. She hadn't killed anyone, hadn't risked any lives. Oh no, it was that big nasty terrorist with the remote. He was to blame. If he'd just let poor little Liz fuck his system, none of this would've happened.

The only thing stopping Kimberly from taking off right at that second, from slipping into the night to find this Polanski and choke the life out of her, was that there were still people around. Still this girl she was menacing and shit. Drop the calm act, and any authority was lost. Any hope of controlling things, gone.

The girl in front of Kimberly had talked. Had introduced herself, blabbed and blabbed. Kimberly didn't say shit. Deal with a nervous talker, best bet's to just let 'em go. Let 'em dig themselves deeper and deeper and watch 'em squirm. Compulsive talkers, they just kept talking, even when it hurt them, even when they knew they shouldn't.

And hey, even better, there was someone over there by the girl's friend. Oh, this was gonna be good. This was gonna be real fucking good. Time to break the silence.

"I think maybe we should just chill, make sure there's nothing going on there that could be dangerous first," Kimberly said. Talking nice and quiet. All the authority she could muster in her voice. "I think it'd be real dangerous if you rushed off before we know that won't lead someone back to me. I mean, fuck, I've been quiet and all for a reason. If I'm gonna get spotted anyways, well..."—a shrug of her shoulders, emphasize the towel covering her left arm, remind this girl that there's no way to tell what the fuck was in that hidden hand—"no real reason to keep quiet."

Smile. Hey, girl, your choice. You wanna call my bluff? Go ahead. If you're gonna make it anywhere on this island, you've gotta be willing to take some risks, make some mistakes.

The night air was cool. Calm. All the panic from the announcement gone. Everything nice and peaceful again. So quiet. So serene. Just how Kimberly liked it.
Juliette Sargent drawn by Mimi and Ryuki
Alton Gerow drawn by Mimi
Lavender Ripley drawn by Mimi
Phillip Olivares drawn by Ryuki
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But I Might Die Tonight · The Mountain