Chapter 10
In the short time I've been here, I've decided that pan not only does a horrible job of orientation, but of teaching the boys new skills. There are three News left alive, two of which are serial killers, all of which have become murderers. At least he taught us how to rip life out of people's hands, but that doesn't stop others from ripping our lives away from us.
Max, for example, hasn't figured out that I've been stalking him. Sure, it's only been for two hours, and he's mostly been hobbling around on his canes and splints, but all the same.
So far he's eaten, practised with his bow and arrows, and sat on a log by the fire. A very uneventful, uninteresting afternoon to say the least. The afternoon has bled into the night though, so we've reached the point of no return. Either he's going to do something, or he won't.
You might ask yourself why I'm wasting my time watching Max, but the honest answer would be I have nothing better to do. Pan had to go do something, he disappeared as soon as I woke up this morning. Which isn't atypical behaviour, so I'm not upset about it.
Harry and Alex have been out hunting all day. Hunting here is actually 'hunting', which is to say that we're all assuming they are making up for lost time in the trees. Gregory, like the pervert he is, has gone looking for them to harass them or some other terrible thing.
The girls are occupying themselves. Apparently the two troublemakers decided to take a walk to the falls to see who could climb the highest, so the medic followed them. At least I know that when one of them falls I don't have to worry about anyone needing medical attention.
Max is still sitting down, but now he's beginning to look around. Whatever he's up on, he's not getting anywhere. I'm still trying to figure out why he called me a dumb bitch the other day. I'd be mad if I knew why he did it, but for now I'm just confused.
Gregory pops out, sitting down next to Max. He puts his arm around the boy playfully, before snapping his neck.
I inhale sharply, unable to even cry out as I scramble backwards. He just killed Max. When I look back up, Gregory is ruffling Max's hair.
He didn't kill him. It must be the nightmares coming out to play. Pan said this would happen.
I watch Gregory whisper something in his ear, before leaning away. Max struggles to bring a smirk up on his face, rubbing his hands together. I hear a word hiss out through his teeth.
"Hoes."
It slithers its way towards me, ensnaring my neck, wrapping my neck shut. Whatever game Max is playing, he's not doing a very good job of acting his part. Gregory however, seems to be serious. He seems to know exactly what he is doing, and exactly what is going on.
Gregory chortles a laugh, throwing something into the fire in front of him. The fire glows green for a second, and I can't help but think of the poison that Johnny had on his hands. The poison that killed so many boys, that set the camp on fire.
That had better not be what I think it is.
Gregory whispers something to Max, who shakes his head, smiling. Out of the corner of Max's eye I see him spot me. Taking his lip in his mouth, he bites it tightly, turning back to Gregory. When he doesn't say anything, I know that he isn't going to rat me out.
Max has been off since he killed Inali. It is to be expected, since killing people tends to destroy you. His body was an earthquake, skin cracking like glass windows, knees buckling like telephone poles (thin and wobbly), tears like a broken damn.
Most people don't become killers after they've killed someone else. Here you've got two options: numb yourself to the pain, or give into it. Johnny and I took the first root, and look where that got us. Max seems to be taking the later, even if he's pretending he isn't.
I wish I wasn't a killer. Regret is not an emotion I'm used to, but as I watch the fire flicker in Max's eyes, I can't help but wonder if he is following me. He can't do that to himself; he's too innocent. When I first got here I was just as innocent as him though. Where have I come? And how do I get home?
Two other boys come up, the ones I don't know. One has light skin and jet black hair and the other has curly, short black hair and dark lips to match. Their final friend doesn't seem to be anywhere in sight. Maybe he isn't there friend at all, just an acquaintance.
The light skinned boy moves up, tracing his hand through the fire. His sleeve ignites, and he stumbles backwards, whipping himself away from the heat. What an idiot.
The darker boy laughs at the misfortune of his friend. It's more cruel than funny, but I can't help but smirk as well.
"Like you're any better." The light-skinned boy scoffs.
The dark skinned boy laugh whole heartedly. "Believe me, I am."
Gregory smiles at the two. "You both are ridiculous."
From the way he carries himself to the dirty on his shoes, Gregory has changed. When I first met him I described him as being only slightly off. Nose a little crooked, buttons not up right, a couple fly away hairs. But here and now, he looks regal. His nails are clean, and his hair perfectly parted; something about Gregory has changed.
He's gone from the lackey to the boy in charge, and the thought sends fear through my body. Gregory is many things, the biggest of which is scary. Unlike Keaton, he has no primary motivations other than murder. He wants to be on the top, not out of fear but out of greedy.
I can't kill him, because it'll incite riot amongst his supporters. The conspirators taught me many things, but the biggest is to take out an army before you take out the king.
Gregory clears his throat as he leans across his knees. "Max is in."
Shit.
"Keep your voice down." The dark-skinned boy hisses.
"Spencer," the lighter boy warns.
"I don't care that this isn't my plan." His name must be Spencer. "Unless we want the whole island waking up, we aren't talking about this. Especially not while we are all together like this. That's just asking for trouble."
Gregory is the first to stand up. "Fine then. I'll keep you posted."
He moves off before casting a glance back. "And Oil, zip up your pants. Seriously."
"It's Oliver." I hear the boy mutter beneath his breath, as he does as he's told.
Oliver seems like an idiot, which at least is going to work in my favour. Spencer however, seems cold and calculating. Maybe I won't need to kill them after all, since they don't seem to be all that loyal to Gregory in any case.
That also saves me the trouble of killing Max. That's something I'd like to avoid at pretty much all costs. Whatever is going on still doesn't seem like his idea.
I feel a hand on my shoulder as I spin around to see Alex.
"What are you doing?" He asks, lifting me up off the ground.
When I turn my head back, the other boys are gone. One of Max's crutches is still left by the fire. How did he get up?
"Avoiding you." I answer, shrugging out of his grip.
Alex looks around, before dragging me off into the woods.
Harry is nowhere in sight, which is odd. Especially since they went off into the forest together for the whole day.
"There's a lot of things you've got to know." He tells me. "First of which, is that, I'm on your side."
What? "What?"
He rolls his eyes. "Hard to believe I know. For once you are in the right. Just this once dumbass. Don't get idea from this."
"It would be better if I knew what you were talking about." I tell him.
He leans against a tree, before looking back up at me. "About the whole Harry and I thing. It was my fault you almost died."
I can't keep a straight face, bursting out laughing. Does he actually think it's his fault, even a little bit? Because the only people who are at fault are myself and the Natives. It's the cynic in me who's blaming myself anyway, seeing as it's technically not my fault.
Oh God, am I victim blaming?
"Trust me, it's all on the Natives." I tell him.
He nods slowly, still not making eye contact.
"I'm sorry about the war." I tell him. "I'm sorry we killed off Inali and his people. That was messed up."
"I came here to escape war." He chuckles. "Turns out I just ran to it."
Woah, that got deep. For a second there, Alex actually told me about his past. Something, to my understanding, he hasn't told anyone before.
"You know kid," he begins, "you've come a long way."
"So have you."
Alex and I moved in opposite directions. He discovered what is was like to feel, while I forgot. I've seen him cry, seen him actually care about people instead about just surviving. To him, it's living that is important now. Me, well, I've forgotten what it was like to be alive.
We both did it by killing people though, so there's that.
He scoffs, a smile hitting his cheeks. "Well, Harry has a way of doing that to people."
I mock vomiting. "Gross. You two are so in love. Gag me."
He furrows his brow, just shaking his head at my odd behaviour. No words need to exit his mouth for me to get the point.
"I take it Harry isn't over what happened yet." I continue.
He shakes his head, sitting down. "He's still not even willing to talk about it. Which is why I've been so cross with you. Still my bad."
At least he can own up to it. I may have apologised for killing the Natives, but I've wrong Alex in so many ways. Ways I'll never apologise for, not only because I don't know how, but because I forgotten how to feel sorry for things that aren't myself. Pity hurts.
"Oh stop getting all mushy on me." I press on. "I already have Harry and Jared, and you're already annoying enough."
"Speaking of annoying." He continues, his face dropping seriously. "That one girl is pregnant."
So that's why he's come. "Trust me, I know. Was going to kill her too, and that was before I found out."
"You can't kill her now." He stands up abruptly.
"That's the problem." I say. "She's never going to give birth here. No one ages, so that sucker is never popping out of her. It was Johnny who knocked her up."
"I thought Johnny was into you?" He furrows his brow.
I scoff. "Never say that again."
The very thought of Johnny liking me makes my skin crawl. He's already enough of a thorn in my side, and only that could make it worse.
"Then why was he always so protective of you?"
I honestly couldn't tell you. Probably because of Alison. Not my mother. That's a load of crap, and we all know it. My mother killed herself without warning or noticed. She left my sister and I in the care of a man who is not my father, and let her body blow away in the wind.
My hand finds the golden watch in my pocket, but I don't dare take it out. I can feel the gold engraving on it from here. L.J. It's the last thing I ever got from my mother.
"I couldn't tell you." I ask. "Maybe he used to be a good person."
"Then why would you kill me?" Johnny's voice rings out.
He pulls a dagger out of his neck, my dagger. As his face goes white, he hits the ground at my feet, and I leap back in surprise. My knees buckle, and I begin to fall.
"Charlotte?" Alex asks. He's holding me.
My eyes find him, but they've lost Johnny. He was never here. What have I gotten myself into?
"Sorry?" I begin, pretending none of that just happened, backing out of the boy's grasp.
"You don't suddenly become a bad person. You either are or you aren't." He counters.
I furrow my brow. "You honestly think evil is born, and not made?"
"Absolutely." He tells me. "We're all born with evil inside us. It's easy to go bad, but hard to go back. Johnny doesn't have the resolve to do either. He's either always been evil or always been good."
That can't be. He was good, and now he's not. There is not a single good quality about that boy anymore. At least I hope there isn't.
~~~~
The hell I went through for this. I lost two months of chapters this morning when my laptop broke. So I won't be able to update until at least Thursday as I rebuild what I lost. Damn Windows.
But I hope you enjoy this. Did the Johnny or Max jump scare freak you out more? Let me know in the comments.
For now, stay calm, and I'll see you Thursday (maybe).