Battle Royale Fan Fiction ❯ Battle Royale: All American High School ❯ Run or Gun ( Chapter 6 )

--------> TONIGHT ON A BRAND NEW EPISODE OF “BATTLE ROYALE!”

 

A daring chase! The sting of bullets! The flash of fire! A vicious life and death chase! Two contestants, one driven mad, the other a brave young girl, will clash tonight in a bloody confrontation! There's no escape for either of them, so only one will survive! But which one? Will the lunatic's madness swallow the poor girl? Or will her strength overcome him? The answer to this question and much more awaits you, the viewer, on tonight's intense and all-new episode of “BATTLE ROYALE 5: DESERTED ISLAND!” Watch it… if you dare!!!

 

At 2000 hours tonight on America Network 7.

 

GOD BLESS AMERICA AND THE GOVERNMENT! <--------

 

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Chapter 6: Run or Gun

 

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I didn't feed the dog, this morning. That's the only thing I can think about. Isn't that funny? I'm in a life and death situation and all I can think about is that damn dog. Funny, like I said.

 

I don't know how long I've been running but I'm damn tired right now. It's dark, has been for some time now, but I can still see well. Kerlina Menendez is my name and I'm the fastest girl in the county. No shit, I've won all sorts of awards. I'm a track-star, I guess you could say, but I don't let it go to my head, not usually. I never thought it would ever come in handy. I never thought being a fast runner would ever actually help me. Guess I was wrong.

 

I stop running for the first time in ages. I bend over, rest my hands on my tanned, muscular legs, and immediately start gasping for air. I notice a small bloody knick on my left leg. Must have scratched myself against a branch of something. I went through a pretty rough thicket a while back. I didn't notice the cut myself. Didn't bother slowing down. I remember my gun. I've been holding it ever since I started. Totally forgot it was there. I tend to zone out when I'm running. I guess you could say I go into a trance. The world just goes away and the only thing that exist is me, my feet, and the ground. I'm completely focused in thought.

 

And what was I thinking about? No, not how I was stuck on an isolated island with thirty-nine (Oops, thirty-seven. Forgot about what happened earlier.) people that want me dead. No, I wasn't planning some way to escape this mess. No, none of that. I was thinking about that stupid dog. Honestly, the human mind is a fucked-up thing.

 

I focus on the gun again. It's a pretty intimidating piece. Kinda' heavy, but not enough to faze my running speed. The instruction manual called it a Beretta. The word is familiar but not instantly recognizable. I look over my shoulder for my…

 

Oh, shit. My bag. I dropped my bag. My bag with my food, and my water and the ammo for my gun. Oh, shit. What am I going to do? I'll be running a lot. I'll dehydrate and pass out. Then I'm dead for sure! What if I get hungry and pass out? I need that bag. Oh, Christ, what am I gonna' do?

 

What am I gonna' do? What about my mother? My sweet old tried mother.How will she take care of my brothers without me? Oh, god… My mother and my three, little brothers and my dog that I forgot to feed. Will they be able to get along without me?

 

No, no, I don't think they could.

 

I have to get out. I have to escape, some how. My family needs me. I have this gun and I'm a hell of a runner. I can get out of this. I can escape! There has to be a way out! This can't be hopeless! There has to be a way out.

 

I close my eyes, sit down and concentrate. How can I escape? Not everyone on this island can be bad, right? Colin! I can trust Colin! I've known him since we were little kids. There's no way Colin would attack me. And what about Victor Adams? Colin is a good friend of his. If Colin trust him I should be able too. All right, first step, retrace your steps and find you bag. It can't be to far back. Second step, find Colin and some other people you can trust. Safety in numbers. Four or five people should be enough. Then we need to get into the school. Can't do that because of these stupid collars. There must be a machine in the school that can shut off the collars. But how am I going to get into the school with this thing on my neck? Shit! I'm racking my brain here and can't think of anything! I have to find Colin. He's smarter than I am. He can figure this out.

 

“Wake up!” Someone shouts.

 

A cold liquid splashes into my face. It tastes bitter and unpleasant. I spit and open my eyes. A boy stands in front of me. He is holding a small, black container in his left hand and a pack of matches in his right. I notice the word “KEROSENE” written on the container and realize that's what he threw on me. Then I realize the matches are next.

 

I dart out into the night. I hear his footsteps behind me and can hear him shouting something. I don't recognize the boy but it's obvious that, for whatever reason, he wants me dead.

 

“Get back here! Stop running! I don't want to hurt you!” The boy continues to shout.

 

You know some how I have a hard time believing that.

 

I'm running as fast as I can. Soon, the shouts of the boy disappear. Within minutes, I turn back, something I never do, and notice that I can't even see the boy anymore. I quickly regain my breath and remember my gun, again.

 

The boy will be catching up with me soon. Should I run again or just shoot him? Can I shoot him? Could I do that? I don't have to kill him. I can shoot him and stop him without actually killing him. But why shouldn't I kill him? He tried to kill me! He was going to burn me alive, for Cripe's sake! I should blow that motherfucker's head off! Why shouldn't I? I'm so confused. This is the plan isn't it? The government gets you confused and that's how they get to you…

 

I see him again. He is dragging the kerosene jug behind him. It must still be full. For the first time, just how serious this situation is dawns on me. I point the gun at him and shout,

 

“If you don't stop, I'll shoot you!”

 

The boy, who I vaguely recognize from school, grits his teeth and shouts back, “I don't want to hurrrttt you!”

 

I notice that tears are welling up in his eyes and he seems to be in great pain. There is a long rip down the front of his school shirt. I pause just long enough for him to catch up to me. He hits me across the face with the kerosene container. I fall to my knees and drop the gun. A moment later I feel the cold kerosene pouring down my back. The boy gives me a heavy kick in the stomach and I keel over.

 

Damn, that's a strong kick.

 

“Just lay down! I won't hurt you!” He shouts again.

 

What's wrong with this kid? It's like he's… Lost his mind. God, what is happening here? How can any of this be real? The boy drops the kerosene jug and seems to be fumbling with the matches. I grab the gun and get to my feet. I run as quickly as I can. I'm slowed down a little because of a stabbing pain in my chest. Is it possible that he broke a rib when he kicked me? Is he that strong? Or is it just because he's so panicked?

 

“Get back here! Stupid…! Just leave me alone!” He shouts again and I can hear him let out a long scream.

 

Have to think Kerlina. How are you going to beat this? Okay, lets put things in order. You've got this guy chasing after you. You have a gun but you're probably not a very good shot. So, I have to get him close. But how can I get him close enough without having him attack me? There has to be some way to slow him down without exposing myself. Then I get an idea.

 

I stop and turn around. I run right at him. I can see the boy's eyes bulge out in surprise. He lifts up the jug and swings it around as I get closer to him. He swings it at my head and I duck, slide, and now I'm on the other side of him. I pick up the speed even though the pain in my chest is growing stronger. I can hear the boy scream again and he's footsteps follow. I try to remember all my steps. Where was it? How far back was it? I need to remember. Clear your head, Kerlina. Don't let the stress get to you. Like the stress got to him. Try and stay calm. Then in the distance I can see my destination. I try to increase my speed. My heart is thumping like a steel drum. Damn, I could use some water.

 

The small thicket looms closer and I get ready to run though it. I reach the edge and push forward with my feet. I jump through the thicket quickly. A minute later I'm half way out.

 

I hear the boy scream again. I turn around and see that he has fallen forward and gotten stuck in the thicket. I stop and stare the boy in the eyes. They seem distance and dark. It's like he's not even human anymore. I walk towards him.

 

“Are you all right?” I ask.

 

He screams again and swings the jug at me. Some of the kerosene flies out and hits me in the face. I draw back. What was I thinking? This guy is far gone. I point the gun in his face, threatening.

 

“All right, you want to be that way? Why are you trying to kill me?”

 

He squirms in the thicket and looks at me. He speaks in a hushed whisper, “You have to die. Only one person can live. You have to die.”

 

He's… Right.

 

What do you do, Kerlina? I have to survive. I owe that to my family. This is important. I need to get out of this.

 

I pull the trigger.

 

The kickback of the gun hits me and I nearly fall on my ass. Whatever was torn up inside of me is pulled and I shriek. I look forward again and see the bullet landed in the middle of the boy's chest. He is screaming and kicking about. The jug falls to the ground and kerosene spills out all over the thicket. I look at the boy and see his name tag. Aaron Albright. Boy number two. I've heard about him. He's the only openly gay boy in the school. That must be hard for him. I bet he gets beat up a lot. Maybe that's why he cracked. Just too much. Though, I guess, I'm just adding to the bullying, since I just shot him.

 

Why did you do that, Kerlina? Why did you shot Aaron? I look him in the eyes and see that they are still filled with an animal distance. The front of his shirt is covered with blood. I can see the bullet hole where I shot him. It's in the center of the blood stain that keeps growing larger. He's screaming has become more of a whimper now. The smell of the kerosene is heavy and I can't take it. I back away from the thicket and point the gun at the puddle. I gulp and get ready to pull the trigger.

 

“I'm sorry.” I whisper.

 

I pull the trigger and the kerosene ignites. The thicket goes up in a blaze quickly. I can see Aaron, stuck in the middle, screaming and kicking and thrashing. His body is slowly being covered in flames.

 

God, what have I done? Why have I done this…?

 

I'm… I'm scared. I turn from the fire and run away again. God, I'm always running. Maybe I'm just a big coward. Why face your problems when you can just run away from them? It's always been like that. And I'll guess I'll just have to run from this problem as well. Just keep running until I reach the finish line.

 

But I can't do that, can I?

 

This isn't the last time I'll have to kill someone. I can't be for sure, but just by judging the circumstances, I can figure that I'll encounter this situation again. Oh, God, what will I do then? Will the same barrage of moral debate go off in my head? Would I be able to pull it off twice? I don't know. I should stop asking some many questions…

 

No, that would be running away, wouldn't it? I need to face this. I need to face this full-on. Damn it, Kerlina, stop running. Face the fucking problem and solve it.

 

Run or gun, Kerlina.

 

What justifies killing? Can it be justified? No, I don't think so. Not even here. Not even when your on a island surround by thirty-seven different people that want to kill you, is killing others justified. Something's are just… wrong.

 

But will I have a choice? I would get myself killed, wouldn't I? Would I have a choice? Oh, I'm just running in circles.

 

Come on, Kerlina, clear your head out. Find your damn duffle bag. You'll need those supplies.

 

I've run past this area before. I recognize it vaguely. I can still smell the smoke from the fire but I'm ignoring it. (Running away.) Damn it, I know I left that bag around here somewhere.

 

“Kerlina!”

 

I turn around. That's the second boy's voice I've heard this night. On instinct, I turn around and point my gun. I see a figure standing awhile away. He is holding two bags when I pointed the gun at him and then he dropped the second one. I soon recognize the figure. The shaved head, the blue boy's uniform, the work boots.

 

“Colin!” I shout. I run towards him and hug him. It's so good to see someone I can trust. Someone I can understand and talk too and relate too. Oh, God, Colin, it's so good to see you. It's so good to see someone rational in this sick, un-rational place.

 

“Kerlina! Hey!” Colin responses in shock.

 

I think I might have cried a few tears into his shoulder but I would never let him know it. God, it's just so good. Thank you. After about a minute I finally separate and look him in the eyes, a little embarrassed.

 

“It's good to see you.” I whisper timidly.

 

“Is this your bag?” He lefts up the second bag and hand it to me.

 

I quickly shift through it and decide, yes. This is mine. See? Here are the Beretta shells. I take out the bottled water and quickly drink it down. God, the cold water tastes so good against my hot and shallow throat. I feel like I can breathe again. I swallowed down the water and smile again.

 

“Thank you. I needed that.”

 

“It's good to see you too.” He says calmly, simply. Is the stress getting to you, Col?

 

We walk off into the night together, which makes us sound like some couple in a cheesy romance novel. We soon trade weapon information like they where trading cards or something. He got the bulletproof vest, which seems appropriate considering Colin's personality. He all ready had it on underneath his uniform shirt. I really want to tell Colin how much I appreciate him. How much he means to me, how important his friendship is to me. He will make this easier. I can survive this vicious game with Colin. Him and me, together, and do anything. With Colin, I can do anything.

 

With Colin by my side, I don't feel like a coward. When I run, and he's on the sideline, cheering me on, I feel like a hero. I feel important. Colin makes me important.

 

I don't mention Aaron Albright. And I don't think I ever will.

 

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End of chapter six.

 

“31 contestants remain!”