Camp Mendinghell Part 9/?
Rated: T
Disclaimer: I don't own the O.C. characters or actors. This is a work of fiction and not meant to infringe on any copyrights.
Summary: This is an AU in which Ryan meets the Newport kids at a tough love wilderness camp.
Unbetaed: (Because I don’t have one.)
They had combined the two tents into one, Luke saying the boys’ tent sagged too much with the missing pole, and everyone took comfort in being together.
Oliver had skulked off almost as soon as they’d stopped for the night, and no one could really say they missed him. When he didn’t return by dark, Seth told the others he was probably hanging by his feet in a nearby tree, or sharing a den with a family of sabre toothed tigers.
Taylor said that the sabre toothed tiger was actually extinct, and Seth said that he had been being facetious. Luke told them they should shut up so he could sleep, and everyone kind of quieted down at that point.
They were all doing their best to be positive for Ryan’s sake, but each had their little tells; Luke spoke a little more curtly to everyone, Seth was more sarcastic than ever, and Taylor seemed to eke some comfort from facts and statistics. Anna and Summer were quieter than usual, and didn’t even complain when the boys didn’t offer to help with dinner or make a fire.
Trying to hold onto the familiar, safe existence they had always known, they steadied themselves and, bodies exhausted from hiking and carrying, found sleep.
Except for Ryan.
His ribs ached as he slipped in and out of consciousness, his pain never entirely surrendering him to sleep.
He had no familiar, safe existence to hold onto, and in his pain and exhaustion, it was hard not to slip away, it was hard not to give up.
He grunted, and moaned a little in his dozing state, waking Seth beside him.
“What’s wrong, buddy? Anything I can do?” Seth whispered in what he hoped was an encouraging tone.
Ryan put a hand on his ribs, and squeezed his eyes tightly shut to show his pain.
“I’m a skateboarder myself, so I usually mess up my knees and ankles… do you think your ribs are broken?”
Ryan nodded, so Seth pressed on.
“Do you know what they do for that, like, at the hospital?”
Ryan nodded again, and spoke through gritted teeth, “Just painkillers, but they make my head fuzzy… so Trey used to wrap them for me…”
He was looking at the other boy with a kind of pleading in his eyes; as if to say ‘make it alright, Seth, just make everything okay’.
No one had ever looked at him that way, but in an instant he knew that he would do everything he could to make it okay, he would do what Ryan could not.
He would get them away from A.J..
Taylor had woken up by now, and was holding Ryan’s hand, and whispering something into his ear. No one spoke, but the others were awake as well, so Seth didn’t worry about noise as he ripped his t shirt into narrow strips of fabric. Taylor helped sit their patient up, and bind his ribs.
When he lay back down, a bit of the tension in his forehead had loosened and he seemed more at ease.
“Thanks, man.”
…
They awoke to a scream.
A primal, piercing cry that made everyone leap to their feet and exit the tent. Momentarily, Ryan forgot his pain and the others their concern, as they filed out of the zippered flap.
It was already over by the time they got out.
Blood gushed from the stab wound, as A.J. braced a foot against Oliver’s torso to wrench his knife free.
“That didn’t need to happen,” A.J. said gruffly, wiping the blade clean on the fabric of his shirt. “Just… get back in the tent; I’ll be back in a minute.”
If Alan James Junior had a journal, he’d be filling it with his regrets.
And the list had just gotten longer.
This hadn’t been part of the plan- the impulsive little shit tried to grab the knife while he slept. His grip tightened, and he reacted, as simple as that… but no jury would buy that- not in a million years.
…
Seth Cohen’s brain was humming.
Each neuron fired, and every synapse crackled with electricity, as he struggled to decide what to do next.
Ryan sat near the fire, pale in the early morning light; Taylor sat beside him, talking quietly.
Another day of hiking was out of the question- whatever his mental resolve; his body could only tolerate so much, and it was clearly at its breaking point.
Seth nodded in Luke’s direction, and the other boy came over to sit with him.
“I’m going to ask him to let Ryan and one of the girls go.”
“Wow, what a smart idea, and then I’ll ask him to let the rest of us go too. I’ll tell him to hand over his knife and his radio, and we’ll be back in Newport by dinner!” Luke said sarcastically.
“Uh… are you being sarcastic?” Seth asked wearily. Luke wasn’t the smartest water polo player, so he figured he better make sure they were all on the same page.
“Uh- yeah.”
“Don’t do that, it’s my only weapon. I’m serious… in a bank robbery the bad guys usually let someone go after a certain amount of time has passed- like a gesture of goodwill. Or they shoot someone.”
“He’s already shanked Oliver… I’m thinking he’s not really feeling much ‘goodwill’ right now.”
“Did you see his face? I think… I think he feels bad.”
“He left Ryan half-dead in a well, he kidnapped the seven of us; I don’t think he feels bad about killing Oliver, Seth.”
“Maybe not bad that he’s dead, but bad that he’s now wanted for kidnapping and murder. That’ll kick up his sentence another… few decades at least.”
“Maybe he’d let Ryan go, but not one of the girls… their parents are loaded.”
“Have you looked at him lately? He’ll never make it by himself.”
…
They all heard the swearing and the threats issued when A.J. answered the radio.
They all saw him raking his dirty fingers through his greasy hair, and the desperate pull he took on his flask before he turned to face them.
“State your name and that you are unharmed,” he ordered, covering the mouthpiece with a hand.
“Nothing else.”
The radio passed around the circle, everyone following A.J.’s instructions. The phone back in his possession, he walked into the woods where they couldn’t hear his conversation.
“Oliver can’t come to the phone right now.”
…
Bob put down the phone, and laid his head on his desk.
Johnny Harper had succumbed to his injuries the night before; now Oliver Trask was dead.
Two deaths in less than twenty-four hours were never good, but he at least took comfort in knowing that Oliver had been prevented from committing any further sins.
People like him never stopped killing, which was precisely why he needed to find the kids right away, and get A.J. behind bars.
He had agreed to release two of the campers- Ryan Atwood and Seth Cohen, in an act of ‘good faith’, an agreement sweetened by the monetary donation of one Caleb Nichol.
The helicopter teams looking for the group resumed as soon as there was enough daylight, and the kids’ families started to arrive soon after.
A staggering amount of electronic equipment cluttered the office, all being monitored by government intelligence agents.
Although the situation had quickly escalated to the point where outside help was needed to get the kids out alive, the main hostage negotiator had insisted that Bob be the only one to have direct contact with A.J., so he was coached on what to say, and told to try and keep the conversation going as long as possible to give them time to trace the call.
“Did you trace the call?”
…
“You and him, get lost,” A.J. growled, tossing Seth his pack and pushing Ryan towards him.
“Uh- what?” Seth stuttered, for once rendered speechless.
“I’m letting you go. Now fuck off before I change my mind,” he added.
Seth looked over at Summer, sitting between the other girls, and Ryan’s eyes locked into Taylor’s.
Summer and Taylor held hands and made shooing motions with their hands- they wouldn’t make his more difficult than it already was.
Luke looked at Seth like he was some kind of wizard.
…
A mile away from the rest of the group, Seth wasn’t sure if they were closer to the camp or even further away.
A.J. had given them a brief glance at the map, but since they hadn’t followed the trails coming in, it was pretty useless.
Ryan had spent a long time looking at the sky, and doing something funky with the face of Seth’s wristwatch and the reflection of the sun, before half heartedly pointing in a seemingly random direction.
They had started walking, figuring that any distance was good distance when you were leaving your psychopathic counsellor/stepfather behind.
TBC