6

    I didn't expect myself to be able to fall asleep on someone else's death bed, but the cot was not as uncomfortable as I had assumed it would be. It slipped my mind for a second that this cot was the one which Steven had died on, and that second was all it took to let me slip in to sleep.

    Thankfully, the night was silent. Sure, Thomas vomited all over himself in his sleep, and I had to be the one to clean it up, but the sun was beginning to rise and nothing could get me down.

    Especially not Steven's funeral, since that was postponed until the illness is contained and cured. Causing mass panic is frowned upon, even if it is in attempts to make everyone safer.

    What has false security done for anyone? Absolutely nothing.

    I step out of the tent, quickly grabbing food and heading back in the tent. I take a swig of from my canteen as I eat, watching over the others around me.

    It only takes me a few seconds to dump what's left on my plate on the ground, but in the time between the compost and the med tent, Thomas has woken up.

    He sits up on his cot, staring at me. I quickly put the mask on and head over next to him.

    "How're you feeling?" I ask.

    He shrugs, holding his head.

    "Apparently you get one good day and then it's back to how you felt before." I tell him. "It's probably your good day now then."

    He lies back down. Thankfully I don't have to tell him he's not allowed to leave. I run back to the table, carrying a tray that medical equipment is normally put on. I grab three plates, filling them up with food, then bring them back in the tent. Thomas walks up to me and takes one, so I drop the rest on the desk.

    I grab a cup, filling it from water in the bucket in the corner. Robert's rules; only the sick can drink from it. I guess it makes sense.

    Now all there is to do is wait until Max and Robert wake up, then give them their food. Tends to be how it goes; you feed and you water the sick, then they go back to sleep.

    Which is why I surmise this day will be extremely dull.

    So I am shocked when I watch Pan appear inside the tent.

    "What are you doing here?" I whisper.

    He points to the ground, where an empty cot appears. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to be."

    As he steps out I follow him. Thomas can help Robert and Max if they wake up. I'm merely a formality. I shed the mask, as I grab hold of his wrist. He spins around, and I quickly drop his hand.

    "There's another sick person?" I ask.

    "Why yes indeed. What gave it away?"

    "No need to be so sarcastic." I tell him.

    He disappears, leaving me in his wake. I begrudgingly walk back into the tent, only to see Pan already inside it. He cocks an eyebrow before disappearing again, leaving behind a very ill James in the bed.

    I sigh, moving next to the bed. James looks at me and I reach backwards handing him a bucket. He vomits into it, coughing harshly.

    After one night with them I can already tell when people are seconds from vomiting, just fantastic.

    I look up, hearing Max's shuffling in his sheets. He's awake now too, no thanks to James's loud retching. Getting up, I grab his plate then bring it to him. He mutters a quiet 'thank you' before biting into his food.

    I already know that I'm going to have to clean up the food he's eating later.

    Max is essentially my test subject. Today is the fourth day that he has been ill, and is the only one to make it so long. Day one seems to be just profuse vomiting and sweating. Day two is where you look better in the morning, then manage to sleep all day. Day three is difficulty breathing, which is the day Steven's asthma caught up with him.

    Who knows what day four will bring?

    It's quite unfortunate that everyone is on a different day. Thomas went back to sleep, and I'm only hoping Robert will stay asleep. Each day just get worse and worse. Somehow the vomiting is easier for me to handle than the difficulty breathing.

    I just hope today isn't diarrhea day. That would be absolutely awful.

    Sitting back down at the desk, I watch over the others. To be honest this job is more boring than anything. Hours a day are spent sitting at a desk, just waiting for something to happen.

    The crash of a plate shattering off the dirt irrupts from behind me. Less boring now.

    I spin on my heels, turning to see Max, standing frozen behind me. The first thing I notice is the slight twitch of his fingers. His eyelashes resemble butterflies as they flutter up and down.

    "Max?" I ask.

    White eyes that have rolled back into his skull. Crashing down on to the dirt, and I move to catch him but I'm too far away.

    "Max!" I screech.

    He's shaking on the ground, back and forth, his arms hitting the cot.

    He's having a seizure.

    I turn to move the cot, slamming it into the cot of Thomas's. If he wasn't already awake he certainly is now.

    Don't touch someone while they are having a seizure. First roll him on his side so he doesn't choke, then do nothing. My hands find his body, turning him over quickly, before I force myself to take a step back. I repeat the rule over and over as I watch him froth at the mouth, twitching and shaking. It so hard to restrain myself from helping him. He wheezes harshly. His skin is pale. Don't touch someone while they are having a seizure.

    His head bangs off the ground.

    Don't touch someone while they are having a seizure.

    His head hits the ground again.

    I dash around him, grabbing a pillow off the cot behind him. I lift it up and place it behind his head, delicately.

    "How long has he been like this?" I see Robert, teetering back and forth next to me. Not awkwardly, but because he's dizzy.

    He shouldn't be out of bed. "I don't know. A minute?"

    "Shouldn't last much longer." He tells me. "Did you know why Jared was the medic?"

    "Because he was good at it?" I ask.

    He shakes his head. "Well, yes. He was a vet or something before he came here. The main reason is because he was epileptic. When boys can't fight safely, they get settled with jobs that require little to no pressure. That's why Steven was a guard; nothing ever happens at the cages. NO need to worry about his asthma there."

    "Jared had epilepsy?" I ask.

    Past tense. What a disgusting way to speak.

    "Yeah, unfortunately." Robert says. "I only ever saw him have a seizure once. It was at a Bonfire. After that, Jared didn't go to them anymore."

    No kidding. It's weird finding out things about a dead person. How unfortunate I get to continue to turn the pages of the book of his life, even after he'll never get to write another page.

    Max slowly calms down, stopping moving.

    "It's not safe for you to be in here," Robert tells me.

    I realise I took my mask off. Quickly moving to the desk, I pick it up and show it to Robert.

    "That was smart, but that won't work." He tells me. "If anything, it'll let the infection sit directly on your face."

    The realisation makes my stomach hurt, and I can't figure out if it's nerves or perhaps the placebo effect. Either way, I nod to him. I never was good at science.

    "Can you and James hold don't the fort?" I ask.

    He nods. "My head is pounding, and I imagine sooner rather than later my lungs and trachea are going to swell up. It'll be hard to breathe, but I'll be able to watch him in case he does anything again. No offense, but you aren't much of a help here. You could be doing better things out there."

    That's what I've been saying.

    I nod, turning away. "And Robert?"

    He looks at me, his eyes bloodshot.

    "Feel better." I tell him, before heading out.

    It's odd, because now that I'm out, I'm not sure what to do. Essentially, I've been hanging around for the last three hours. The boys making lunch didn't need me, and they don't need me now that they are making dinner either. Devin certainly would rather be alone then accept my help. Another boy has taken over organizing gathering missions, and if I went to the training area, Harry and Alex would send me back to the med tent.

    They only have two friends left, both of them on brink of death. I'd send me back too, if I thought that would help them.

    I spot Johnny, across the camp. He's doing nothing, but I watch him duck into the woods.

    Now, I'm not particularly good at stalking people, and if I was to try for the first time, Johnny would be an easy target. He moves loudly, and isn't exactly the brightest boy.

    I sneak off after him, slowly following him. I don't bother keeping him within my eye sight. It'd be easier to get caught that way and it's easy enough to follow him solely based off of sound.

    That is, until the sound stops. I move my way behind a tree, peaking around. He's standing just out of eyesight. I move closer, slowly darting behind trees. I round the corner only to notice him standing a few feet in front of me.

    "Are you following me?" He asks.

    I cross my arms. "Why, do you have anything to hide?"

    "You want to know what I'm here to see?" He grabs my arm and drags me forward. Maybe I should've played it cool, played dumb. I grip his hand, trying to get myself out of his grip.

    "Pan!" I screech, as he slams a hand over my mouth.

    "What the hell are you doing that for?" He demands. "Look."

    He moves behind me. We are at the graveyard. I can't believe I didn't notice it yet. Stupid.

    "Why are you here?" I ask, my voice turning soft.

    "I come here sometimes." His voice is quieter now. Less hostile. "To visit that kid's grave. Liam, I think his name was."

    "Lyle." I correct. "Why?"

    "I know Keaton, Gregory, and Samuel pretty well." He admits. "They tried to rope me into their circle when I first got here. I'm tall, strong, stupid enough, perfect candidate for Keaton and his crew."

    I don't interrupt him, instead favouring to sit in front of Lyle's grave.

    "I was stupid enough to fall for them too." He continues. "You know, they ruled this place, or at least they think they did. They may not be high up in Pan's circle, but they thought they were, so I thought they were too. I stopped hanging out with them though, when I overheard Dominique talking about escaping. I asked if I could help, and they let me in. It was temporary, until they could figure out if they trusted me or not, right? I only officially left Keaton and his friends a few days before the Game."

    I continue to stare forward, and I see him crouch down next to me. "I was so close to being there with them. Two people died because of them, or if you blame Samuel for his own death, I guess three. It could've been my hands around Lyle's neck."

    "Your hands were around mine." Bitter words to match a bitter situation.

    "That's why I come here." He tells me. "To remind myself of how I nearly killed Thomas. I guess it's selfish to visit another boy's grave for my own motives, but being here just makes me value life more. It makes me value having clean hands."

    I don't value having clean hands. My hands have the blood of Samuel on them, and it doesn't bother me at all. I could kill him again and again. The only thing that bothers me, is that there isn't more blood. The blood of Gregory, the blood of Dominique. The blood of Keaton.

    I could kill them over and over forever, and never feel a shred of guilt. So long as they live however, I want them to die.

    I guess this is the most noble I've seen Johnny ever. He's always so self-assured, so arrogant, so stubborn. Vulnerable is not a word I would ever have thought to pick to describe the boy in front of me, but here in this moment it feels like he's laid all his cards out on the table.

    For some reason, it makes me feel nauseous.

    Where I do terrible things, and would do them a thousand times over, he does terrible things and regrets it. He was honestly only trying to protect me from Thomas, as misguided as he was. We are so similar.

    "Thank you for stopping me." The words tumble out of his mouth. "In a way, I guess you saved me. I don't want to be a monster. I don't want to kill anybody."

    "Well, I'm glad you haven't." I brush the dirt of my pants as I stand up. Not daring to think about the Native boy who he probably killed.

    I've never been someone who's kept secrets, or keeps to themselves, but I feel as if I'm supposed to offer up that I killed Samuel here, or that I want to kill Gregory.

    "You know, Dominique and his crew killed someone." Change the topic to avoid becoming emotional open. A game plan I hadn't thought about until this moment. "His name was Victor."

    He nods. "I know. I didn't think it would end up like this."

    "What did you think it would end up like?" I ask. "Joining a group of radicals. They are back home or bust, Johnny. And if they bust, we are all busting with them."

    "You don't think I know that?" He demands. "If you go down, I go down with you. That has always been and will always be the deal Charlie."

    It's odd that after all that's been between us, he cares about me at least a bit.

    "There's just too much going on at once." I say. "The conspiracy, the Natives, the illness, the bet. You know that I'm either winning or losing in six days. In less than a week I'm here forever or I'm back home."

    "So stay away from Pan until the bet," he says.

    "I can't leave until everything is over and safe." I argue. "I can't leave without knowing everyone here is safe."

    "So you are going to wait the war out?" He asks.

    "That's not what I mean." I argue. "I'm sure Pan will stop the Natives, he always does. But the conspiracy and the illness; they need to wrap up in six days or-"

    "Or you'll tank the bet?" He asks. "Stay here forever?"

    The thought hadn't crossed my mind.

    Until now.
~~~~~~

I like this chapter, quite a bit. Seizure Max gives me stress, and so does Johnny. SO much stress. My Beta reader hates this chapter, because it makes Johnny seem decent, and it gives me mixed emotions.

How do you feel about Johnny? I love to hate him, and hate to love him.

I'm excited for the next chapter, and since I'm on holiday, it'll be up Monday. I'm so very excited.

I'll see you Monday, and until then, enjoy your weekend.