Re: The Campground [In play]
Clinton, Iowa
Night 7
He had found it. There was another way out. No more waiting for certain access roads to dry out. No more waiting around to die. While other people had acted foolishly, trying to swim their way to safety or make all of the noise in the world going to the woods, Csargo had been biding his time. Instead of waiting around, he had been searching for another way out from the very first night, exploring through the woods, marking his progress, and keeping a good separation between himself and everything else that was happening. Finally, after a week or searching, he had found it.
A trail had appeared, the woods had cleared out, and the only thing that was separating Csargo from freedom was a stone bridge over a dried-out gully.
Beyond that bridge lied salvation and civilization, and everything it brought: notably processed food, plumbing, and the Clinton, Iowa Police Department. Csargo had played his cards cool for the past week, but now he couldn't help it. He screamed out in joy and began running over the bridge.
All of a sudden, a hail of bullets opened up on Csargo from behind the tree line. Csargo went down, partially to instinct, partially to training. Csargo had always used his wits to survive the road life, after all, getting into more sticky situations than he could count? What had gotten him to survive through all of that? His intelligence. It had gotten him to the campground, and it had gotten him to live to the point where others had died. It would be his intelligence that would save him here as well.
Csargo rolled down the gully, taking cover under the bridge. There were a few more spurts of fire, but none that came anywhere remotely near to him. His assailant would no doubt search for a better position, and then Csargo would be doomed. He needed to find a weapon, and fast. Csargo's hand came out from under cover, searching for a stick of some sort. It wasn't much, but it would be better than nothing. He took too long, however. Another spurt of gunfire found his now-exposed hand and took it clean off his body.
Screaming in pain, Csargo's remaining hand clutched his bleeding stump, writhing on the ground in agony. At this point, intelligence and training yielded completely to instinct, and as he was rolling around and moaning, trying to desperately stem the pain, Csargo rolled too far out from under cover, and at that point was summarily finished off by the still-hidden assailant. Csargo finally expired, his luck run out, only a mere yards from freedom.
Three of them gathered around the fire that morning. This was truly the end, everyone realized. They had gotten one of the two fugitives; their very continued existence proved that point. However, Csargo's corpse proved that they still had one to kill. This would be it, then. If the two innocents banded together and were successfully able to lynch the remaining interloper, they would be able to live out the rest of their time on the campground in peace and eventually be able to escape and pick up the pieces of their lives.
If not... well, then there would be far fewer American vagabonds, and those who camped in Clinton, Iowa, would have one heck of a ghost story to tell by firelight in the future.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Still alive: 3
Yaseikhaan
johnhughthom
Askthepizzaguy
Killed:
Renata
robbiecon
Reenk Roink
B_Ray
Chaotix
Visorslash
Csargo
Executed:
Who am i?
Zack
Diamondeye
God Emperor
Andres
Scienter
TheLastDays
It is now Day 8. As this is the final round, it will conclude in approximately 48 hours as opposed to the usual 24. Best of luck!
Originally Posted by TosaInu
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Didn't think such a straightforward strategy could actually work.
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