Trapped

The rest of the night was eerily quiet for the twenty students remaining in the game. Most took the advantage and tried to get some sleep, while a select few loners tried to find a group to stick with. Carrie, being the withdrawn person she was knew that there was one person, still alive, that she could get together with. At least anyone who would’ve asked her that would’ve gotten the impression of. She had been climbing rocks, looking in the formations for any sign of student activity. Nothing, until she caught a different scent mixed in with the same smell of saltwater that hung over the island like a blanket. She sniffed. Smoke.

Cautiously approaching, she gripped the soft handle of her weapon. Not a gun, but when used correctly, it could still cause a lot of damage. An expandable baton, like the ones that cops use. A solid steel two and a half foot long pole could certainly hurt. Someone like Carrie would know, having had a few violent run-ins with cops. There was also something else that came in her daypack, but right now, she knew there was no use for it. As she proceeded, she eventually caught the sight of a dull glow down between the rocks. Careful step by careful step, she inched closer. The crackle of a fire sounded. When she reached the edge of one of the rocks, she peered over the edge into a crevasse. Just the people she was looking for. Angela was dead, having died a long time ago, and the only other people in class Carrie talked to were sitting just a few feet below her. Di and Joan.

They had a fire going, and they just sat there, watching it. Well, Di was, Joan appeared to be asleep. Carrie continued looking down at them, contemplating. She knew Di, but had hardly talked to Joan.

“Di?” Carrie whispered down.

Di looked around, having heard her name whispered. Carrie saw Di stand up, gripping something in her hands. The light from the fire reflected off of what looked like a boomerang. Only this boomerang wasn’t wooden, it was steel. Like those tools that farmers used back in the day. A sickle.

“Di, up here, it’s Carrie.”

Di looked up, seeing Carrie, barely, though knowing it really was her “Carrie!? Come here,” Di whispered back.

Carrie managed to climb down, getting settled next to Di. Her assumption was right, Joan was sound asleep, leaning back against a rock.

“Where’ve you been?” Di asked, resuming her staring contest with the fire.

“Around. I was trying to find Angela, until her name was mentioned, then I just wandered around, trying to find you, since you’re the only other person in this class that I talk to.”

“Ah. Well we’ve been here almost the whole time. Just waiting.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. To be saved I guess. Using my last hours of life hoping for a miracle.”

“Oh.”

In the back of her mind, Carrie had been contemplating throughout the entire game. Wanting to win, but what would she do? She secretly hoped that Di and perhaps even Joan would’ve been dead before she found them. They weren’t though. She wanted to win though. Her mind fell on the small bottle that was in her pocket. Do it and get it over with.

“Have you guys eaten?” she asked.

“Nothing except that shitty bread.”

“Here.”

Carrie went into her daypack, pulled out two plastic cups and a box of raw oatmeal. Nothing special, but it was food.

“Oh, awesome,” Di said.

“I guess you can just mix it with water. In our condition, it would taste like gold to us, right?” Carrie laughed a little.

Carrie dumped the raw oats into the cups, then grabbed her remaining water bottle. She tried to think of how to get the bottle out. It was small enough to hide against her palm, but she needed to be able to get it out, and dump just a pinch of it’s contents into one of the cups. Pretending to have trouble with the bottle, she reached into that pocket, grabbing the small utility knife she had in there, pulling it out and dropping it behind her. She turned, holding the water bottle, and the small tube. While bending to feel for the knife, she popped the cork out of it, and dumped it’s contents into the now open bottle, swirling it around. She managed to get this task done in just a few seconds, then turning around, dumping the water into the cups, handing one to Di. Di, with no hesitation, brought the cup to her lips, taking in the cold, watery oatmeal like it was coffee.

“You never realize the importance of food until you don’t have it,” Di said.

Carrie merely nodded while saying goodbye to Di in her mind.

“Aren’t you going to ha-” Di stopped talking suddenly, and began coughing violently.

Joan, who had been asleep the whole time, was now awake.

“Di! What’s going on? Carrie? When did you get here?” she asked in a matter of one second.

Di grabbed her throat, still coughing, gagging, and spitting. Joan thought she was choking, so she grabbed her friend from behind, trying to force out the imaginary object stuck in Di’s throat. Di responded by shaking her head.

“She’s not choking,” Carrie said. “She was fine a second ago. I gave her some oatmeal I managed to find earlier today.”

Through the dim light of the fire, both girls could see that Di’s face was no longer it’s normal color. She was pale, and her lips were a pale blue color. Her eyes grew bloodshot. She coughed again, spitting a red substance onto the ground in front of her. With one last violent gag, she lurched forward, falling over onto her stomach. Her face turned towards the fire while her arms went out to the sides. One hand nearly fell into the fire. Drool mixed with a foamy red substance slowly leaked from her mouth onto the rock towards the fire.

“What happened to her!?” Joan asked.

“I don’t know. It wasn’t the oatmeal, cause I had some too, and I’m fine.”

Joan began freaking out over the sudden terrifying death of her closest friend. While thinking out loud over the possible causes, Carrie subtly gripped the handle of her baton, waiting for the moment.

“We were fine until…you!” Joan pointed at Carrie.

“I didn’t do anything!” Carrie shouted.

“Yes you did! You came with spoiled food! Or…no! You poisoned it! What else did you get from where you got that food? Rat poison!? Bug spray! Yeah! You did it.”

“Fine, I did do it,” Carrie said quietly.

“Because obviously, when someone is doing just fine until-wait. You what?”

Carrie stood, jerking her hand outward. Joan saw the steel pole extend from her hand.

“Yes, I did it,” Carrie said, instantly going for Joan.

Joan tried to dodge and head for the way out of the crevasse, but Carrie, being a delinquent and a fighter, was too fast. She swung the baton, hitting Joan in the knee. A cracking noise was heard and Joan fell, groaning in pain. Carrie then picked up the sickle and walked towards Joan who was frantically trying to crawl away.

“No, please, Carrie, don’t.”

Joan found the strength through the severe pain in her knee, to get scramble to her feet. Even though she did in a few seconds, she was still too slow to escape. She took a step, but stopped suddenly. She heard the thunk before she felt the blow to the back of her head. Reflexively, her hands reached back, fingering the blade of the sickle, that was lodged in the back of her head. She stumbled to the side and fell over. The side of her head collided with the ground with a crack.

“Sorry, I had to,” Carrie said, yanking the sickle out of Joan’s head, ignoring the sound of the tearing flesh and hair.

18 students Remaining