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Topic Started: Apr 8 2011, 09:14 PM (1,695 Views)
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((Alexander Campbell continued from Our Last Days As Children))

Since the cliff, things had gotten worse, much worse. Alex was starting to realize why he'd started to feel like he wasn't going to make it off this island. It was the infection and the blood loss.

The field amputation and improvised cauterization had seemed like a good idea at the time. It had probably saved Alex's life, at least in the short term. It had also caused serious, permanent damage to his body. That he hadn't gone into shock on the spot was a miracle. That he had been able to keep walking for days since was a testament to his willpower and determination to do something about this game. It also meant he hadn't had proper rest or care, hadn't had antibiotics or extensive treatment. Somewhere in there, he'd picked up a fever and not even noticed.

The first sign that something was wrong had been that Jasper had led them away from the cliffs. Since when was Jasper the leader? He was the quiet guy who hung out with the misfit band of stoners but never quite engaged on the same level as the rest of them did. He was a great friend, but not an assertive one. His taking the lead felt odd.

Things had only gone downhill since then. The exercise had worn Alex down quickly, and he'd fallen into a sort of trance. He wasn't quite sure if he was hallucinating or not. He felt like he was burning, though. He felt like throwing up, but there was nothing to throw up. He could swear he could feel his missing arm again, and he wished he couldn't, because it was nothing but pain. He didn't even know if the others were still with him or not. He'd fallen behind some. He'd been trying to hold things together. Trying to look like he was fine. Trying to hide that he wasn't sure he'd be able to make each consecutive step.

It wasn't working so well anymore.

He stumbled over a stump and smashed into the ground. His whole body ached. He couldn't tell if the others were anywhere near him, or if they'd gone off somewhere else. Maybe they hadn't noticed him falling behind. Maybe they were looking for him, desperately trying to locate him. He was supposed to be the leader. He was supposed to give Danya something to worry about.

He pushed himself into a sitting position. It was about all he could manage.

Something was wrong. Alex reached his remaining hand over to feel his stump. His fingers felt wet. He'd been bleeding again. How long for?

His vision was blurs. He tried to blink them away, but they were inside his eyes. He was sweating profusely. This was very, very bad. He hadn't had time to talk to the others enough. He hadn't had time to make sure that Jasper and the other boy would be alright. This was all moving way too fast. He hadn't had time to find out the truth about Hayley.

A darker spot formed on his vision. Jasper? The other boy? Someone totally different? A figment of his imagination?

Some combination thereof?

He blinked, trying to clear away the spots. It wasn't working. He couldn't hear anything. The world was fading.

"Hey," he said. His throat hurt. Damn, it had only been... a few hours since he'd left the cliffs, right? This had snuck up on him suddenly. He should have paid more attention. He should have been more careful, not just with his injuries, but all the way back to the start of the game. If he'd never allied with Jarocki, he'd never have gotten shot. His arm would never have been infected. He'd never have had to amputate it. He'd still be fine, fine and able to carry on.

"Hey... you..."

His voice was weak. He didn't know if he was talking to anyone. He didn't know if they were responding.

"Don't let the game get to you. There's... still a way to beat it. I know there is. Just... everyone has to trust each other, and it... we can beat it."

He closed his eyes. He'd just rest for a few minutes here. Just take a quick break and pull himself together for another little push. He'd stick around a bit longer, make sure the others would be okay. Maybe find Hayley and figure things out. Make things right, whatever that meant.

But that wasn't to be. His consciousness slipped away, and a few minutes later, his overtaxed body finally gave out.

B123, Alexander Campbell: DECEASED
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