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[sup][@FernStone][@Prosaic][@Surtr Inc][/sup][/center]
[code]The Campsite - Male Cabins.[/code][hr]

Rita knew that Martin was trying to calm her down and trying to be nice. It didn’t help, obviously, her heart was still racing and her body was still shaking, but she still felt obligated to thank him. To say something nice in return, to pretend that she believed his empty promises so that the others and him wouldn’t worry about her. Her lips parted with a crack, and a voice came out. 

“Everything is going to be okay,” she repeated slowly to herself; her eyes casting a look of irritation towards Martin. Her tone was uncommonly bitter. “I knew you were a loser, but I didn’t take you for being a fucking idiot, too.”

Her eyes grew wide and darted back and forth as she covered her mouth with a hand. She had not intended to say something like that; it had just slipped out. Clearly, the pressure must’ve been getting to her, cracking through and poisoning her filter. She forced an apologetic look onto her face and, slowly, as if she was almost fighting to get the words out, tried to set things right.

“I’m...sorry,” she said. Her voice was strained and forced, not unlike that of someone who had been crying, but to her it felt different. Heavier, if that was possible. “I, uh, I didn’t mean it.”

"Hey guys, can ya'll give me a hand?"

Anything to get away from this moment. Rita forced herself to stand up, catching herself against the wall to steady out her shakiness. Yet, despite her confusion on what had just occurred, her mind felt more at ease; she was still terrified, yes, but the panic attack had been kept at bay. If anything, staying next to Martin was more horrifying than getting split like a log. At least with the latter the only person who got hurt was her. Losing her one friend because...she pushed the thought away.

Lightly she stepped into the other room with slow, uncertain movement, making great effort not to look at Martin’s face, before she was on the opposite side of the bedframe from Kimberly. She gave the other girl a nod but did not say anything, worried about what else might slip out from her tightened lips. Grabbing the edge of the frame, she prepared herself to move to it wherever Kimberly was going. 

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[code]The Campsite - Female Cabins.[/code][hr]

“Oh, shit.”

The sound of Billy’s alarmed voice drew Penny to the window. Her desire to cry had been shifted into a quiet fury—she had been thinking about Scott Reese, superdouche extraordinaire, and how the kid would’ve been locked up years ago if daddy hadn’t been the one with the keys. It seemed absolutely unfair, utterly unfair, that he could have gotten away with all of his bullshit while she was hounded by the cops for the slightest infraction. She could still feel the cuffs cutting in to her the last time they had found her out at the mountain. And now, in the shadow of the mountain, Scott Reese was going on a freaking killing spree; somehow, she still felt like his dad could play it off as “boys will be boys”, the prick.

Billy turned away as the axeman split another girl in two with a shudder. He had seen how quickly Scott had moved to catch up to that girl; there was no way they would outrun him, and unless he moved away from the one road off the island there was no way they would sneak past him. His mind began churning for other possibilities—no boats on the docks, but they could possibly swim as long as there was no undead kids in the water waiting to pull them under. Staying put could also work, but with the amount of women Scott was slaying it was only a matter of time before he came to the girl’s cabins to rack up a few more kills. He ruffled his hair. Damn it, he wasn’t an ideas man, he was an opinions man. Why wasn’t anybody else trying to come up with something?

Unbeknownst to her brother, Penny was coming up with an idea. Her stomach knotted as she watched Scott butcher another girl, and her eyebrows knitted into a look of determination. She spun from the window and quickly riffled through the room for her bag, grabbing something out of it before shoving the bag to the side. She patted her leather jacket, feeling the small object in her pocket, before making her way towards the door. She stopped once she felt the handle, in part because Billy had spoken up.

“What the hell are you doing?” he said, the concern in his voice apparent.

“Probably going to get myself killed,” she said, her eyes thin. 

“Are you seriously going out there?” said Billy, standing up to stop his sister.

“Better to burn out,” she muttered.

Reese was moving—shit, he had spotted other people. She threw open the door and ran after him. This was a horrible idea; damn near suicidal. But Penny would’ve killed herself anyway if she let herself become yet another bystander, yet another victim, instead of trying to stop a massacre before it became even bloodier. She couldn’t not understand how Billy could just hide and wait for it to all passby. These people here—she could now see Claire and Dexter and whomever else were with them—they weren’t her friends, she didn’t like them, but they were still people. They didn’t deserve to get killed; especially not by Scott Fucking Reese.

[hr]
[center][b][code]The Campsite - The Campfire.[/code][/b]
[@Surtr Inc][@Junkmail][@PharaohAtem][/center]
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She wasn’t built to run—and smoking didn’t help, either—but the adrenaline coursing through her veins was enough to give her the energy she needed to bolt across the field. In her right hand she had grabbed her lighter, a little pink BIC; her left hand was holding the can of hairspray she had snatched from her bag. She’d seen enough videos of people making impromptu flamethrowers to act as pest removal in regards to wasp nests, and what was Scott Reese but one unnaturally giant, grey skinned pest? She was in striking distance now. They both were. Surely he had heard he coming now.

“Hey, dickhead!” she screamed, flicking the lighter and spraying the aerosol. One more orange light appeared that night as flames erupted from the spray, tossing themselves towards Scott’s head. Ideally he would set on fire, although she had her doubts about it. If it at least blinded him, even temporarily, it’d be long enough for the others to get away. A small victory. As she began to torch the giant, Penny felt her eyes begin to strain and focus on his arms, readying herself to dive out of the way the second he moved to swing his axe.