There were barely any snakes left coming from the forest—the flames had claimed most of it. The shoreline was quiet, save for the crackle of the fire. Most survivors, including Liam and Tyler, rested along the beach.
"Hey, fire guy."
The man with immaculate hair approached Liam and Tyler, who sat beside each other on a log, near the fire Liam had started earlier.
Neither of them replied. Liam gave him a blank stare. Tyler said nothing at all.
"You're pretty smart, huh? The fire and all?" the man asked, attempting to strike a conversation.
Liam still didn't respond.
"I'm Brandon. I was hoping you'd help with a plan I have—going back into the forest. See if any survivors are still out there." He pointed toward the burning trees.
"Any survivors left are likely bitten or burned," Liam replied bluntly.
"It's still worth a shot."
There was determination in Brandon's eyes. He genuinely wanted to help.
"I'll pass."
"Please," Brandon pushed gently. "We could use someone like you. You stayed calm when everything's falling apart."
Tyler remained quiet, still reeling from the loss of two dear friends just hours earlier.
"Still pass."
Brandon sighed. "Can I at least know your name?"
"Liam Dye."
"Nice to meet you, Liam. And… thank you for saving our lives." Brandon extended a hand while bowing sincerely.
"I did what I had to do to survive. Wasn't trying to save anyone." Liam ignored the handshake.
"You still saved us. Every single one of us has a chance to see our loved ones again… and it's thanks to you."
Brandon hesitated, then bowed again, deeper this time. "Please. You can still save more. I want to help those people."
Liam felt a flicker of guilt—but it passed quickly. He didn't care about others. Why should he? Their lives didn't affect his own.
"I'll go," Tyler said suddenly, rising to his feet. His voice was no longer shaky—it carried weight.
"Thank you."
"And you're coming too."
"What?" Liam was caught off guard by Tyler's tone and resolve.
"Bryan and Melissa… they just—" Tyler choked for a second. "I know you weren't close with them, but Jesus, man. You heard them talk. You know they were good people. We can't just sit here while others die. Not because of this sick-ass game."
He stepped closer. "And if you wanna sit on your ass here because you can, then fuck you, fuck you, man. Now get up."
Tyler grabbed Liam and yanked him to his feet, leaving him no choice.
"So... will you be going?" Brandon asked.
"I guess I am now," Liam muttered.
Brandon smiled and extended his hand again. This time, Tyler accepted it with a firm shake.
"Looking forward to working with you two."
"Let's kill these asshole snakes," Tyler said.
"Wait, Brandon," Liam interjected. "Where are you from?"
"Uh... Chicago. Why?"
"Where in Chicago?"
"Lakeview. What's this about?"
"We're from there too. You got here from a 'Would You Rather' question, right?"
"Yeah... and it's exactly what the question described." Brandon looked at his watch. "If that's true, we've got about two and a half hours left—until 4 a.m."
"Same with us," Liam said. "I asked because I don't believe this is supernatural. I don't think we were teleported. This was planned—by someone. Orchestrated. To pull something like this off, they'd need manpower, a lot of it. If they moved people here from all over the world, that's a huge operation. But I'm betting we're all from Chicago. I haven't seen anyone who seems like they're from out of the country."
Brandon blinked. "Let's ask around. Confirm it."
"Chicago."
"Chicago."
"I'm from the US, near Chicago."
"You're right…" Brandon muttered.
"Doesn't matter right now," Liam said. "Let's meet your team."
Brandon led them to two others—James and Chris.
"This is fire guy, Liam. And this is—"
"Tyler."
After introductions and handshakes, the five armed themselves with sharp sticks, broken tree fragments, and rocks. Most people had been transported here in their pajamas—many without shoes. Only Liam and Tyler had proper footwear. The others removed their shirts to wrap around their feet, hoping for some bite protection. It wasn't much—but it was something.
"Wait," Brandon said, just as they were about to leave. "Before we go, I need to say something to the others."
He stepped forward—but Liam grabbed his arm.
"You're about to tell them we should all go to the same police station in Chicago if we survive, right? Report it together so it sounds more believable than just one guy rambling about monsters and games?"
"Ye—"
"Think it through. Whoever's behind this—they moved dozens, maybe hundreds of people, put them on an island with genetically-altered snakes. You really think they'll let us just waltz into a station and spill everything? If they're that powerful, they can shut us up just as easily."
Brandon froze. He wanted to say "it's worth a try," but not if it puts everyone's lives at risk.
"Instead," Liam continued, "tell them not to report it. Let the other group—the mall survivors—do it. They will report it, because that's the obvious move, and we watch what happens to them. That's our test case. We prep based on their fate. That's the smarter play."
Brandon clearly hated the idea. His face tightened with frustration, but he couldn't refute the logic.
Finally, he turned to the survivors.
"EVERYONE, PLEASE LISTEN!" Brandon shouted. "If we survive this… do NOT report this incident to anyone. Just stop playing the game. If you need an explanation, tell me—I'll give it to you!"