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The Stoner Always Dies; In which Jay Holland catches a break.
Topic Started: May 23 2011, 09:04 PM (2,268 Views)
armeggedonCounselor
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((Janet Binachi continued from Everyday is Like Sunday.))

Janet was gladdened when Jay released her hand about ten minutes into their run. For one thing, having one hand pulled out in front of her killed her running rhythm, and for another, the physical contact was causing her some feelings of discomfort. She could, clinically, recognize the signs of a crush, or lust, at least, but she refused to admit to herself that she possibly had feelings for this stoner. She failed spectacularly at denying them, but at least she didn't admit them, right?

Right.

So she found herself running about three feet behind Jay. It felt good. First time she had really run on this island. She regretted that she was wearing jeans, and tight ones, because she had packed for a campground and not la Isla de Muerta. Still, even spurred by fear Jay wasn't that fast. And he would probably end up collapsing or otherwise being forced to stop by his own body, judging by the way he was gasping for air. Turns out, smoking isn't good for your lungs. A real shocker, that.

Sure enough, Jay came to a screeching, hacking, wheezing halt. Janet barely stopped in time to avoid trampling him, and quickly caught her breath and surveyed the surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary. Trees, sand, ocean, boat, rocks, waves, clouds, boat, boat, boat.... Wait. Her eyes widened in surprise, in shock and, momentarily, in joy. They were going home. They were getting off this stupid fucking island and they would go home and everything would be good again. Forever. She would get to see her parents, and her grandfather, and she would be able to.... To be free. To no longer live in fear, every day.

She was vaguely aware of Jay saying something to her. It took her brain a moment to decipher and register, and then a moment more to formulate an answer that wasn't just pointing and saying "boat."

"Jay, I've never used a mind altering substance in my life. That is a boat. And we get to go home."

For some reason, voicing it actually made it hit her even harder. Home. Home. They get to go home. All of them. She choked, collapsing to her knees, and finally, fully, letting all of it come out. She cried, heaving sobs of relief and fear, letting everything she had been saving out. It was embarrassing, but for once, she didn't really care. Home. She was going home.

Then the PA system sounded off once again. She jerked up, listening. It would be just like Danya to blow the collars of all those who were getting ready to get on the boats. He was an ass like that. But the voice that came through was different, younger. It was the voice of the savior, those who would be taking them away from this. But the words that followed....

"Killers, players, and cannibals welcome too, for your free bullet-in-the-head special, if you want the easy way out of this."

Janet sat there on the ground, feeling shock permeate her entire body. She wasn't going home. She wasn't going home. She sobbed again, then clenched her fists and stood up screaming, unintelligible words of rage and grief and pain. Her gun came up, pointing at the nearest speaker she could see. The hammer dropped twice, and her rage was over. She collapsed to the ground again, breathing hard. When she looked up again, her face was devoid of emotion.

"The-" She coughed, her voice raspy and low from her own rage tearing her throat.

"The only one of us who can leave.... Is you, Jay."

It was a statement of the obvious. But it helped her concentrate again.

"And, um.... That little display may have been noticed. I apologize, I'm usually more... in control than that."
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armeggedonCounselor
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((I apologize for the shortness of this post. I'm going through a ton of shit in my personal life, so I'm just gonna pound this out and not bother making it shiny.))

Janet stared at the ground again, listening to Hayley and Ema tell Jay to go. Yes. He needed to leave while he still had the chance.

And then Jay started blathering about how he was not worthy and blah blah blah. A bolt of rage shot through Janet. She looked up and gave Jay her best death glare.

"Shut. Up. Don't you think any of us would rather be going in your place? Do you think we want to be here? We're all pissed off, or upset, or... what have you about this. The bottom line is, we fucked up and you didn't. So take the gift fate, or God, or whatever has given you, and leave while you still have a chance."
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Jay started to say again how he didn't deserve it, but cut himself off. Janet stared at him, too tired to say anything. Emotional exhaustion was setting in. She didn't know if she could do it. This moment, this... it was almost too much, to have salvation denied to her. It was, well, exhausting.

Jay turned to her, a far away look on his face. It seemed he had resigned himself to his fate, as he was giving her his gun. She took it quietly, looking down. She couldn't face him. It hurt too much, to know that she may never see him again. To know that, in the end, he would probably hate her. She would have to kill a lot of people to get off this island. Possibly his friends. Possibly his closest friends.

She looked up again as Jay dumped his bag contents, opened her mouth to say... something. She couldn't find the words. Her brain was slowly processing. She wanted to stop him, to let him go, to tell him... something, to never tell him anything. She knew that he needed to go. She desperately wanted him to stay. She opened her mouth again as he turned away, forming the words.

Then he kissed her. It wasn't passionate, and it wasn't very good. She didn't see fireworks or feel a fire in her belly. But it said enough. And then... it was over, and he was walking away. And for the second time that morning, Janet felt tears stinging in her eyes. She bit her lip and swiped an arm over her eyes, then stood. Hayley said something at her. A shared sentiment.

"I hope we don't. Next time we meet... we're enemies."

She pocketed Jay's gun, listened to Hayley and Ema walking away. She knelt, scooping up the supplied Jay had left. Food, about three more days worth. Ammo, and plenty of it. Map, compass, superfluous but possibly useful. She stood again, looking out at the boat. Salvation would not be coming for her. She would have to fight to earn it.

"Goodbye, Jay Holland. I... love you."

With her private admittance completed, she shouldered her much heavier pack and walked inland. She would go first for the swamp; she needed to get more water anyway. After that... who knows?

((Janet Binachi continued elsewhere.))
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