Gerald looked out of the window above his work desk, watching those who had come to work for the weekend scatter in various directions like ants, while a much larger group swarmed the trail heading towards the dock, eager to return home. He knew there were several other ways he would have preferred to spend Labor Day weekend, especially since it was a 4 day weekend. But he needed the money, so here he was at 1pm on Friday afternoon looking forward to a long uneventful weekend which would end with his riding that same ferry back to mainland Maine on Tuesday morning. "At least I can get some good grinding in," he thought to himself.

"You listnin boy?"

Gerald turned to look at Bobby Jenkins, a man as country as he was smart. Although he had considered telling "Big Bobby" that his own IQ was probably much higher, he never did so mostly because he was too lazy to create the conflict. "Yeah," he said with a tone that was as unmotivated as he could muster.


"Jes cuz you do this here every weekend don mean you run thangs," Bobby spouted off. "I run dis here show, you got me?"

Gerald looked at him and nodded, hoping his weekly speech would be over soon.

"I 'spect everthang to be jes like I lef it. An I'll know if you aint dun nuthin all week." Bobby turned angrily and grabbed an old worn canvas gym back before throwing the door to the communications center closed behind him and sprinting towards the ferry which had to wait for him every Friday. To this day Gerald could imagine no funnier sight than a man over 6 feet tall sprinting in jeans and cowboy boots. The trail heading towards the dock was empty now, and it seemed as though a silence fell over the place. It was a silence that Gerald found comforting. He assured himself of the comfort as he locked himself in the room, as he always did.

Turning to the racks of computer servers and communications equipment, Gerald began running checks to make sure that the satellite internet connection the island used was still up, as well as the radios that he operated from this room. His "fortress of solitude" not only from the other employees at the Peltzer Research Facility, but from the world itself. Well, the real world anyway.

"Screw this," he said after several minutes, throwing his clipboard on a desk. "There's nubs to pwn." Sitting down at one of the terminals, he brought up his World of Warcraft account using the client software he had expertly concealed on the network from "Big Bobby" and smiled as he logged in.

Emily readjusted the strap of her beat-up duffle bag as she watched the ferry float off into the distance. It wasn't that she longed to be back home. Actually she didn't really enjoy home anyway. Sure, she had a nice condo, with plenty of money to waste on Star Wars and Harry Potter memorabilia, but she was truly alone. Not many friends, no family, just the voices of other players on her xbox. She wasn't unhappy. She loved her work, but her life felt empty. She pushed these unsettling thoughts down as she turned away from the dock and started down the path to the facility. Emily liked working weekends and holidays, it gave her an excuse to have no plans.

Soon she was walking to the doors of the main facility and pulling her ID card out. she scanned it quickly over the sensor and the doors slid open. Before going in, she put in her earbuds to avoid having to actually greet anyone. She turned right to enter the computer lab and walked to her special corner of the room. It was sort of like her office, being the head programmer. She had the highest tech computers that could access almost any computer in the building. She tossed the bag in the corner and sat in her chair.

She turned on the big monitor and quickly typed the ten passwords she had set. No one would be breaking into this computer on her watch. Once she was in she checked her email for any jobs that see needed to do. As soon as she logged in an email from the other programmer that worked whenever it was legally necessary for her to go home appeared.

To: EmilyWolke@PeltzerGroup.org
From: LenardWelsh@PeltzerGroup.org
1 attachment: NewSystemBluePrints.docx

Dear Emily,
The system and network seem to be crashing a lot lately. Boss wants you to fix it. Also, attached is the new blue prints for the next thing the boys in the lab are working on so you need to get on building and designing all the techy stuff. Enjoy your weekend!
-Lenard Welsh, Assistant Head Programmer.

Emily heard the sarcasm in the message but it didn't bother her. Lenard was a bumbling idiot compared to her. She downloaded the document, but decided to fix the network first. She ran a through diagnostic. Immediately she saw the problem and started to type furiously to fix it.

Devin sat in the common room, shuffling and re-shuffling a deck of cards. His ears were covered by the headphones, as usual, and Slipknot's "Psychosocial" could just barely be heard emanating from them. He had arrived at the facility via helicopter yesterday, and been shown to his temporary room on the second floor of the dormitories almost immediately. He was finding it incredibly hard to believe that he was actually going to be on this island for the whole of the four day weekend. Stupid Peltzer Group, making me fund my own research. If they would actually let me do some work, I might make a beakthrough, he thought, though he knew full well that the company wasn't in the habit of changing its mind over anything but the amount of work he had to put in, and they only ever increased it. Still, looking on the plus side, it was only four days, and once it was over he would be spending two weeks in Vietnam, followed by a full month in Japan. If he was honest with himself it wasn't the being on the island that mattered, it was having nothing to do. He had been strictly told he wasn't to do anything unless someone called for his help. Until then he wasn't supposed to leave the dormitory building, and it was the waiting that was beginning to frustrate him- whilst idle, minutes felt like hours, and after spending a whole day yesterday doing nothing he really hadn't enjoyed the repeat today.

Still, it wasn't long until dinner, perhaps with a smaller holiday staff someone would actually talk to him today, rather than avoiding him as the regular employees had done yesterday. He knew he didn't exactly seem to be the kind of person who would be willing to engage in conversation, but so far he had spent the entire day alone. He didn't mind being alone, but if he talked to someone he might find out that they wanted some help, which might mean he was able to do something. Yes, that would be a great time to search for tasks to carry out, but in the meantime he was still hoping that someone would summon him to do some work for them.

With a very resigned sigh he dealt himself a game of Solitaire and began playing. He had spent many years playing the game, and he saw many ways to win which people who hadn't often missed. After a few minutes he had already won once and then dealt himself again.
"Only another four hours till dinner." he muttered in his thick Scottish accent.

Holly Jordan glanced at her reflection in the window of the of the dormitory as she approached the main door. What she saw didn’t look like her usual self yet she thoroughly enjoyed this appearance. She had put some curls to the end of her golden locks and added a bit more makeup then usual complete with glossy, red lips and smokey eyes. She decided to wear one of her nicer suits today, a dark gray skirt, that was slightly shorter than most of her others, and matching fitted blazer with a low cut, red camisole underneath. Trailing behind was her black, Coach suitcase and thrown over her shoulders were a matching purse and computer bag.

Strolling her suitcase in behind her, she pushed through the door and stepped into the cafeteria. The room was empty, as far as she could tell, so she made a sharp right and headed towards the stairwell. As she wrestled her suitcase, balanced on black heels and juggled her bags up to the third floor, she muttered a few complaints about the lack of elevators in this building and gave impolite comments about the creepy stairwell. With no harm done to all of the above, she eventually found herself in the room she would occupy for the weekend. She flipped the light switch and to her surprise found no evidence of a room mate. Remembering the holiday this weekend, she realized this was probably the answer to her solitude. Not many people volunteered to stay and crunch numbers and such when they could be relaxing on a deck, bikini clad and sipping on a potent yet incredibly delicious cocktail.

She dropped her purse and laptop bag on the closest bed and wheeled her bag in front of the closet. “Unpack now… Or Later?”, she questioned herself as she crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “Might as well do it now…”, she mumbled, deciding she would only half do it. She unzipped her suitcase and brought out her garment bag that was folded inside. Opening the closet, she the hung bag, which held an addition skirt suit and one pant suit with tops to wear under the jackets, on the rail. She unpacked two pairs of heels and placed them side by side under the garment bag in the order she planned on wearing them over the next few days. The remaining contents of her suitcase were two leisure outfits and a pair of white sneakers, undergarments, sleepwear and the basic toiletries. She zipped the case closed and placed it inside the closet, thinking that was enough for now.

She was anxious to get to the chemical lab to follow up on a few tests she had ran the previous day. Checking her watch, she concluded she had more than enough time to do this, or at least start it, before the usual dinner time. Grabbing her purse and laptop bag, she left her temporary home behind and set her destination for the main facility.

The walk over was uneventful, mostly just the sound of her own heels clacking against the sidewalk and her thoughts that kept replaying the various events that had happened that week. Once inside the lab, she dropped her baggage in the little locker assigned to her and gingerly slipped into her pristine, white lab coat. She finished the look, adding latex gloves and her sunglass style safety glasses. She then clipped her pink Ipod shuffle to the lapel of her lab coat, placed the buds in her ears and flipped it on. Grabbing a pen and one of her notebooks labeled with yesterday’s date and the title of her labs, she walked to the corner of the room where she has various beakers filled with various chemicals and sea water atop a long table. She picked up several test tubes and held them to the light as she twirled them and examined any changes. “Hmm.”, she would mumble in-between singing softly along to Lynard Skynyrd songs. After each tube was returned, she wrote about a page of notes in her notebook. She was content on doing this seemingly tedious task until dinnertime.

Emily finished typing and saw that the receiver on the west wall had to be manually reset. She sighed before slipping her loose old cardigan on. She looked really out of place in her beat up vans, ripped skinny jeans, tucked in and faded Batman t-shirt, and large framed glasses among the people in suits and shirts. She liked being comfortable, though, more than being respected.

She grabbed her highly ungraded MacBook and walked quickly from the computer lab to the small staircase to the roof. She shivered slightly when she felt the bone-chilling wind and light drizzle on her skin. Wanting to get back into the warmth as soon as possible. she speed-walked over to the receiver and sat with her computer on her lap.

"Dammit. the network will have to be down for 24 hours for this to work." She said to herself as she connected directly to the roof device. She opened her email to notify to the other employees that they had one hour until the network reset would set in.

To: Long Weekend Employees (via lists)
From: EmilyWolke@PeltzerGroup.org

Greetings my fellow employees stuck working weekends,

Due to issues regarding the network connection that I will not even try to explain to you because it might make your brain explode, I will need to preform a full network restart that will result in our connectivity dropping for 24 hrs starting in approximately an hour. Don't freak out, in case of emergency I have setup an external connect to one of my computers. Feel free to email me or ask me any question.
- Emily Wolke, Head Programmer.

Samson entered the kitchen, this would be his palace for the weekend. He looked at the stove, the sink, the pans, pots, microwave and cutlery, wondering where to start. He would have to make a delicious meal for his guests, which were with less than he was used to. But on the other hand, he didn't have people to order around too, he had to make everything himself, and serve everything by himself. "But no time to think, let's make some food!"
Samson washed his hands and began his 'quest'. He opened the refrigerator and took some fresh cabbage, a couple of carrots and a tomato. He cut them into small slices and mixed them together, he washed them with care and searched for something that did not belong there. Samson putted a pan above a fire and began to warm water. While he was waiting he began preparing the meat, he took some spices and placed them besides the stove. He walked to the freezer and he found some minced "That will do." Samson thought, while taking it and walked towards the stove. Samson placed a pan on the stove and poured some oil in it, the pan was already hot and the oil jumped up, burning Samson's hand "@#!%" he shouted "This fire has got more power than the one I had at home." he mumbled while putting his hand under the cold tap. After waiting a moment, probably too short, he continued with the dinner. He had much more to do, boiling the spaghetti, making tomato sauce, spice things up a bit, finish the vegetables. He had to make some soup, both champignon flavor and broccoli flavor. The salad would take some time too, and after that he had to make the dessert: a chocolat mouse with vanilla ice cream and a slice of cake. All of which he made himself, he would never use ingredients from jars or cans. And that was just the food for the dinner, Samson also had to set the table, clean the glasses and sharpen the knives.
"Well, it can't be that hard," he thought "it's not like I've got something else to do."

"Hey, you awake?"

Pete Raines awoke with a start. He nearly fell out of his chair when he woke up. The voice that had spoken and scared him out of sleep was his fellow head researcher, Kyle. Pete had fallen asleep in their office, in his chair. Kyle had been sitting at his desk and didn't notice when Pete fell asleep for a little nap.

"Its just about 1 o'clock, so I'm going home, are you going to spend the weekend here again?" Kyle asked, probably knowing the answer already.

"Uh, yeah. I want to start a new little project while its still fresh in my mind. I'll go home on Monday." Pete answered.

"OK, but you can't go home Monday, its Labor Day weekend." Kyle corrected him.

"Thats fine. I will just stay here until then."

Pete watched Kyle finish packing up his stuff in his briefcase. His desk and side of the office was fairly neat, and he made sure that nothing ever got lost. Compared to Pete's desk, it was immaculate. Pete had papers scattered all over the place, some of them even making it to the floor. He never used his filing cabinet and instead kept clothes in the drawers. Pete noticed that he had left some food in here from lunch and casually knocked it into the trash can.

After Kyle had left, Pete laid his head back on the table and closed his eyes. He would need to get some shut-eye if he was going to get any work done tonight; he would have to be completely alert.

Doctor Everett Camille
Resident Psychologist for Peltzer Group
Current Room: 12b

“Some people are afraid of what they might find if they try to analyze themselves too much, but you have to crawl into your wounds to discover where your fears are. Once the bleeding starts, the cleansing can begin.”
-Tori Amos

The sounds of an experienced violinist flooded Everett's room as his feet pounded on the treadmill he'd brought in a month ago. For him, psychologically speaking, exercise was both a mental and physical release. As the excess water and salt flowed out of his pores as salt, so did his frustrations and missteps. Calm enveloped him.

His eyes, never ceasing to find something new, scanned the pages of one of his old psychology books that focused on psychosis in the workplace. The words jumped out. As the group dynamics counselor and resident psychologist, he had to know all the warning signs of psychosis and slip ups. It also helped to explain quite a few things about his favorite subject: "Nature vs. Nurture". The idea that genetics could affect someone's predisposition to some sort of behavior cause ripples in multiple theories and ripped apart others.

Everett had stayed. No, he hadn't left. He couldn't. Every weekend, he'd watch them depart. Leave to go about their lives in whatever way they needed to. Go on to their daily monotony that was everyday life. With his knowledge of how the mind worked, he couldn't really fathom how people could stand merely throwing away their brain power; almost everyday, people idly sit, doing nothing productive.

The treadmill slowed as Everett began to cool down. He had the whole weekend ahead of him - there was no reason to burn himself out now. A rhythmic piece of piano music played on the ipod that sat in the corner, mildly adorned with paraphernalia. The walls of the room, a dark green, conveyed Everett's peaceful, contemplative mindset and his enjoyment of deep thinking. Instead of the normal bed Everett decided to opt for a futon, which stayed in couch form for most of the time.

Only a clock and a picture frame hung on his wall, both a black color that complemented without offsetting the dark green color of the walls. His covers and pillows were all black and white, indicating a need for order and things to be "black and white" or clean cut and precise. A chair, a black color with deep green patterns adorning it, sat in the corner next to the table with the ipod. He occasionally used the room for therapy sessions. on the side adjacent to the futon stood a bookcase that reached the ceiling and took up most of the wall. It's contents ranged from books on psychology to sci-fi to comedic to thrillers.

If the item that explained Everett the most it would be the treadmill. Inconspicuous at first, it seems normal. Yet, upon it, Everett writes his book, reads the stories, and helps to make the world a better place. Upon that treadmill, he weaves his destiny; he begins to write his own tale - the tale of his life. A black, older model, it's seen many miles in it's day and continues running like a dream. As an occasional insomniac, Everett has spent many a night on the treadmill, pounding away at the black strip underneath his bare feet.

“Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart. Who looks outside, dreams. Who looks inside, awakens."
-Carl Gustav Jung

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Lori Beatty's pen tapped against her lip to the cadence of ticks by the clocks second hand. Her eyes flew across multiple pages that were laying on the desk in front of her, almost to the point that the words began to blend together, and the female had to go back and read it all over again. She was growing tired of the simple sound of the clock ticking; it was making it very hard to concentrate.

Glancing at the digital clock on her computer screen, she made the decision that she just didn't want to hear that ticking noise any longer. With that thought, she stood from her chair, made her way over to her office wall, and took down the analogue clock. She then removed the single battery from the back, and placed it back on the wall. Clenching said battery in her small hand, she opened up one of her many desk drawers, and tucked it into a small zipper bag full of all kinds of batteries.

Sitting back at her desk, Lori brought up the program iTunes on her computer, and clicked on a random song to let play quietly in the background as she worked; the first song to come on was Beethoven's Symphony Number 3, in E-Flat Major. The younger blond haired female enjoyed classical music quite a bit, and soon found herself immersed again in her work.

It was not long until that concentration was one again broken. Glancing up at her computer screen not more than a few seconds after she heard the unmistakable sound of an incoming email, Lori discovered that she had received a heads-up email from Emily.

"...Full network restart... Connectivity dropping for 24 hours..." she mumbled to herself as she read the message. "Well, at least most of the stuff here is paperwork oriented." Her eyes found themselves once again staring at the large desk with all kinds of paperwork on it.

Typing up a quick thank-you-message to Emily, Lori got back to work. There were all kinds of papers that needed to get filed away in the cabinets in her room, and she had a bunch of schedules to review; not to mention, she had things to sign, things to forward, things to fax out, things to mail, and things to shred. And that wasn't even scratching the surface of what she needed to get done over this four day weekend.

But it wasn't as if this was new to her - she did this almost every time she was at work. And so, Lori continued working away, her pen still tapping her lip as she read, though this time it tapped along to the beats of Beethoven and Mozart.

Gerald was just starting a new character when he noticed the email come up on an attached screen. "Well, I guess this is a waste," he huffed, closing down the program and standing to his feet. He stretched towards the ceiling, working out the kinks of sitting motionless for several hours, when he looked at the clock.

"3:45. That new chef should be whipping something up." Rubbing his belly as if to fend of the pangs of hunger, Gerald headed out the door towards the docks. "I wonder if Rob and his guys are going to come up," he thought to himself. It wasn't too common that the private security team hired by the Peltzer Group mingled with research facility staff, but Gerald had discovered the weekend crew were avid sports gamers and therefore not detestable, even if they were stuck in the world of PS2. Most of the times they kept to themselves eating MRE's, which Gerald found to be a tasty departure from the norm on occasion, but today he wanted hot fresh food.

"Yo Rob," he called out as he walked into the reception building which also housed the security team. When the didnt answer he did not hestiate to walk behind the counter and down the hallway towards their one floor barracks. Though the hallway was dark, Gerald noticed the wire mesh door to the arms room was cracked open. Neither of these were unusual situations, he thought to himself as he passed the side door and continued back into the living quarters. The wiring in this building was some of the oldest and was constantly blowing bulbs out, and they were constantly inventorying and checking the various weapons and riot control supplies they kept in the room. Gerald didn't know why they needed such an arsenal on the island, but he knew better than to ask.

As he stepped into the sleeping room, which was nothing more than a wide open room with several bunks and a couch, he saw the faces of the security team illuminated by the glow from the wide screen TV in the otherwise dark room. "Yo Rob," he tried again.

"Yo," one of the men with a controller in his hand replied.

"You guys gunna come eat or what?"

"We just got to," Rob answered, speaking slowly. "Finish this little.....IN YOUR FACE BITCH!" Rob stood to his feet and pointed his finger at the other man on the couch in a victorious taunt. "Don't come to my house with that weak game! Get off my court!"

Gerald laughed as the one man got up and was quickly replaced by another eager to defeat the reigning champion. "What were you saying man," Rob turned to Gerald with a large childlike smile.

"Are you guys..."

"No man," he answered as if suddenly remembering the question. "We aren't eating this Garcon's food until we know its safe. Know what I mean?" He gave a wink and a playful but hard elbow to Gerald's ribs with the last sentiment. "We got chow here so we are cool," he offered as he shared a handshake with Gerald that otherwise was only known by the security team. "Come down later so I can whoop you too."

"You mean you like me dropping 3's in your face Rob," Gerald joked back as he turned towards the hallway. There was only laughter in response. He knew that as soon as he had turned he had ceased to exist. Only the game mattered now. But still, he was accepted at least a little, so that made a difference.

When Gerald had walked several yards from the door to the reception building a quick wind chilled him, and he looked to the skies. It had gotten dark quick and further to the east the clouds were pitch black. He had seen some storms hit the island, and all of them were scary, but this one looked to be intense. "I better let them know," Gerald thought to himself, turning back to the Reception door.

He had no more than set his eyes on the door when the world shook with a deafening roar and tossed him violently into the air. He felt his body hit a patch of rocky ground as his head snapped back with the movement. He ached everywhere and his ears were ringing like he was front row at a concert. Shaking his head, Gerald looked up and blinked repeatedly. Slowly, the building came into focus, or at least what was left of it.

Gerald rubbed his eyes quickly and looked again as he sat up. It was unbelievable but he could see it in front of him. The whole front wall was now a litter of bricks and debris on the ground between him and the building. There was also a huge hole in the wall near where the arms room would have been from which flame poured out recklessly.

"Rob!" Gerald hopped to his feet only to discover that his knees were not as alert as he was. Gerald looked up as he stumbled to his hands and knees to see another belch of flame leap skyward through the roof. He hadn't seen it before but now it was obvious: the roof had just about broke in two with the back section completely collapsed to the ground. Gerald got to his feet again, hearing the thudding of his heart attempt to block out the ringing in his ears.

"ROB!" He shouted again and again frantically as he ran to the building. Now around the side near the big hole. Now where the back door should have been. Any thoughts of food left him as he vomited up the contents of his stomach on the ground. There were at least two bodies in the water just beyond the shore behind the building, and the structure itself looked more like a construction junk yard. Gerald looked up to the sky as he felt wetness on his face only to realize that it wasn't rain. He collapsed to a sitting position as he wrapped his arms around himself and sobbed uncontrollably. "Oh crap man....what....I mean..."

Wanting to run away from the nightmare that had forced itself on him, Gerald stood to his feet as he quaked and put his hand in his right front pocket. "Where are my keys!" Gerald hastily slapped his other pockets and then ran back to where he had originally landed. The keys to the Communication building which he always had on him, were missing. It was then that he remember he had left them in the door as he was distracted by hunger.

He sprinted back to his haven from chaos only to see a whitish gray smoke hovering around the open door to the building. Gerald ran through the door and up the stairs to the communications room, screaming quickly from shock when he saw the fire axe buried in one of the panels and sparks shooting randomly from others. He coughed as he waded through the smoke that hovered at eye level and was slowly sinking. Instinctively he grabbed the fire extinguisher behind the door and profusely sprayed everything in site until the canister was empty.

The smoke was still creeping out of the room, and a few sparks randomly sputtered, but he had ended this disaster for the moment. Gerald leaned up against the wall and slid to the floor as he tried to catch his breath, rubbing his face with dirt smeared hands.

"What the hell is going on?"

Emily quickly skimmed the email replies she received and started the network restart. The internet would go down in about an hour. She shut the laptop and crossed her legs. Even thought the wind was whipping her and rain was drenching her hair, it felt peaceful. She sat and closed her eyes, picturing her parents. The memory of her one visit to her parents workplace after during her final year in college played in her head like a movie.

Her parents had worked for the Peltzer group, but not in these buildings. The company had remodeled after the accident. She remembered marveling they high-tech resources they had to work with. She had been studying technology all through college. After they had given her a tour, she took a helicopter back to her condo and waiting for them to return for a nice dinner out. Problem was, they never showed. She had received a devastating call and it was over.

Emily felt a single tear roll down to the tip of her nose, as if to tease her. Suddenly, however, a large boom shook her out of her mediation. Before she could react, she was thrown towards the edge of the building. Emily screamed as the tremor tossed her. In a panicked frenzy, her arms flew out and caught the railing on the side of the roof. Only problem was that she was on the outside of it. Her hands began to sweat in the heat of the moment, and she gulped and looked down. She was more than a floor from falling into the flower garden. The fall wouldn't be fatal, but she could break a bone or get a serious concussion.

"HELP!" She screamed hysterically as she hands began to slip. Finally, her fingers couldn't hold any more and she plummeted towards the ground, screaming the whole way. As she fell, time seemed to slow down and she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. But then the ground came.

Emily, luckily, didn't land on her head, but on her side. A loud crack could be heard from her rib. Her breath became ragged as forced her eyes open to scream out again, praying for someone to hear her. As blood rushed from her leg, she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer. Emily laid in the dirt, and slipped into sweet unconsciousness.

Devin looked up from his half-finished Solitaire game when he felt the tremor. It lasted less than a second, but it was enough. He probably would've heard the explosion too, if Austrian Death Machine's "Get to the Choppa" wasn't blasting out of his headphones. Still, he had dealt with this kind of thing before. He had been in China when those God-awful earthquakes had ocurred. If there was one thing that had taught him, its that if you feel a tremor you get the fuck out of the building. It didn't matter that it wasn't a quake, lessons learned with your life at stake are lessons not easily forgotten. In an instant he was up and running, sprinting down the stairs and out the doors. He hated running, and it wasn't something he did very often, but despite his heavy build he could move when he wanted to. He was out of the building in just over a minute.
One side of his headphones had become dislodged in his hasty exit, and just as he was about to replace them he heard a woman scream. It was coming from the West side of the main building, which he promptly jogged over to. The woman in question was laying in a flower bed, and she would have looked quite pretty if it wasn't for the bleeding gash in her leg. That would explain the scream.
"Oh shit! Can you hear me? Hello?" No luck, out cold. How the hell did this happen!? Doesn't matter how it happened, just got to staunch the bleeding. To this end he removed his lab coat, and with a little effort ripped off the arms. He tied them around the leg, first the left arm, then the right over the top. That should stop it for a while. Crap. Now do I move her, or leave her? If she's got internal injuries I'll make them worse by moving her. If I leave her here, with this storm blowing in...
"Move her it is." he decided. He carefully picked her up, cradling her in his arms. "Its going to be alright. I'll nae leave you out here." he said, though he wasn't sure whether he was trying to comfort her or just to fill the awkward silence. It was raining quite heavily now, and water was running into his eyes. He continued regardless, around the corner and into the main building, staggering only slightly. He kicked a few chairs into a makeshift bed, and gently laid her down. "Hello, is anybody here! Is there a doctor!? This woman's been hurt!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. Please may someone know what to do, because I sure as hell don't. Taking the swivel chair from behind the reception desk, he sat down opposite her, and waited. With any luck she would regain consciousness soon, and he wasn't going to leave her until she did.

Doctor Everett Camille
Resident Psychologist for Peltzer Group
Current Room: 12b

Wee, sleeket, cowrin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty Wi' bickering brattle,
I wad be laith to rin an'chase thee, Wi'murd'ring pattle!
-Robert Burns

A tremor shook Everett's room as he stepped out of the shower, only a towel around him. He looked around to see his picture had fallen. Naturally, he knew not to panic. Panic instilled fear, and with fear came trouble. He got dressed quickly and headed outside his room. Looking outside one of the windows he watched as rain began pouring down. What a great weekend he had ahead of him. He padded back into his room, wary of more tremors. He knew he could get out of the building quickly if he needed to.

Sitting on his futon, he opened the book he'd previously been reading and turned on his ipod with his remote. The smooth sounds of guitar drowned out the pitter-patter and rumbling roar of the thunder. The words within the book flowed through his mind as the guitarist hit the strings with magnificent, innate skill.

... Identifying this "trigger" can one to identify the type of psychosis within the individual...

Da da dum da da dum da dum dum... Da da dum da da dum da da dum... Mmm.

... With each psychotic individual the behavior may vary slightly and differ in origin and nature...

Rumble.

... While violence is most common, some individuals resort to psychological torture usually in the form of fear...

Crash.


Thunder aside, Everett could hear the crackle of lightening and the sound of the waves bombarding the shore with a force unparalleled by any other natural occurrence. He pulled out a highlighter and began marking, making small notes as he went along.

If psychosis is noticed early enough and the symptoms (i.e. violence, thoughts of suicide, etc.) are correctly treated (with the use of therapy and medication) then the chances for recovery are very high. Usually, under normal circumstances, with the right treatment and a quick diagnosis, the patient can return to society as a functioning individual.

>Spotting Psychosis Within the Workplace:

The key to noticing psychosis within the workforce and everyday life is a sharp eye and a prepared mind. Normally,

Boom.

The thunder shook the building slightly. Everett sighed and turned the music up, trying to drown out all outside noise.

As Emily's conscience mind left the world, her sub-conscience held a connection. She felt the man lift her into his arms and the sound of his voice. It made her calm. In her mind, there was darkness. The man's arms made her feel safe again. The bounce as he walked may have slightly hurt her body, but it soothed her mind. She felt the man set her down and the peace began to fade away. The darkness of her mind became engulfed by light as her eyes slowly opened.

She blinked a few times before fully opening her eyes and adjusting to her surroundings. She took in a huge breath, which gave her a sudden and intense pain. She let out a little yelp from the surprise and her eyes filled with tears. She began to breath shallow and quickly which made her head spin even more.

"Whe...where are my glasses?" Emily managed to gasp out as she quietly hyperventilated. She noticed that the shatters in her vision were from the glass in her thick frames. Great. She thought to herself. Slowly she took them off, because she wasn't completely blind. She looked to herself to see the protruding rib and blood-stained lab coat on her leg. She was covered in dirt and drenched from the rain. She looked over to Devin. He was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans that were stuck to his skin because of how drenched he was. She had to admit, he was rather attractive. She didn't know why she had never really realized. Maybe it was just because he had probably saved her live, but she tried not to stare.

As she went out of the initial shock of waking up, she began to really feel the pain in her leg and rib. She clenched her teeth, but it only slightly muffled her painful groan. They tears in her eyes began to slowly fall down her cheeks.

"Please, get help." She whispered as she turned back to Devin with pleading eyes. The pain was almost unbearable.

Holly was nearing the end of her examinations of one chemical reaction to the sea water. She held the last of this particular set of large, test tubes up to the light. The purple liquid glittered under the florescent light as she twirled it slowly, searching for any particles. Hypnotized by her examinations, she was completely caught off guard when she felt the tremor. Her first instinct was to grab the edge of the stainless steel lab table. Doing this caused her to drop the test tube, breaking it into dozens of thin glass shards amongst a splash of purple.

“Shit!”, she swore out loud. The tremor was gone, her second thought was to clean up the mess and tend to the small cuts and possible embedded glass inside her left palm. She rushed to the clean-up station, grabbing paper towels to wipe up the mess that was now dripping onto the floor. She peeled off her left hand glove carefully, as it now had a several small cuts in it that penetrated to her palm. Quickly removing the other she ran her hands under the cool water letting the blood run down the drain and then vigorously scrubbed with antibacterial soap, ignoring the sharp pain. Drying her hands, she folded up a paper towel and placed it in her palm again slipping carefully into new gloves.

Once returning to her work station, she carefully cleaned up the mess both from the table and floor and discarded all the contents into the biohazard waste container. Once things were back to normal atop the table, she sighed in frustration, knowing she would have to start all over on that particular test. She closed her notebook and returned it to her locker, removing her ear phones, she threw them and the iPod into her purse. She shut her locker and turned the dial on the lock. Discarding her new gloves, she rushed out of the lab and into the infirmary to search for a proper bandage for her palm.

After a few minutes of searching, she found a large, square band-aid and soon enough had herself bandaged up to her standards. It was then that she started to think about the tremor and what had caused it. She quickly cleaned up her small mess and headed out of the room. ‘Someone else was bound to have felt it and possibly heard it and just might know what caused it’, she thought to herself as she took the stairs down the first floor of the facility, still sporting her lab coat and safety glasses.

She stopped dead in her tracks as she heard a man’s voice calling for help… She tried to place the name, 'Not Pete, not Everett, definitely not Gerald… Who?' She cautiously pushed open the stairwell door, giving just enough for her to get through and stepped quietly into the hallway. She passed the restrooms and approached Pete’s office. Knowing he was supposed to be working this weekend, she crept in to find him sleeping. She paused taking in his extremely good looks for a brief moment, smiling, before she realized he would most likely be yelling later at the results of the ruined lab test. Her smile faded as she reached out her hand and laid it softly on his shoulder giving him a firm but still gentle shake. “Pete… Pete!”, she whispered in urgency. “Pete, wake up! There’s someone calling for help; I don’t know who. Come with me.”

Samson was done with the dinner, but it wasn't dinner time yet. So he began to sharpen his knives, like he always did when he had to kill some time. It wasn't that dangerous, but he would've done the same thing if he knew what was going to happen.
"I'm faster than I thought, although I don't have a staff to order around. I'll taste the sauce again when I'm done with this." he thought, while watching his movements closely. The knife in his right hand was bigger than the one in his left hand, and sharper too. He had done this on purpose, since he was right-handed.
The kitchen started to shake out of the blue, Samson thought it was the end of the world; the lamps were shakins, the pans were shaking and the pots fell, the glass broke and cutlery clattered to the ground. There was a loud bang when the chandelier fell to the ground. The chandelier destroyed the newly covered up table, it littered the room with glass. Samson fell on the ground, cutting his left hand with the big, sharpened knife in his right hand. He let out a scream of pain when he looked at his hand and saw that he had cut the phalanx of his middle finger. It began to bleed immediatly, and even though he didn't think so at the time, he had been quite lucky. With his right hand he grabbed the edge of a tabel, pulled himself up and he looked around.
"This is bad, this is really bad." he mumbled when he looked around the room. Even though he was dizzy, he could see how everything had changed. The room that was neat just a couple of minutes ago was now a huge mess, the smell of hot food was gone and there were broken things everywhere. The lights flickered.
"What is happening? Is it an earthquake?" he thought, quickly taking cover before an afterschock could hit him. But there wasn't an aftershock, nothing fell, nothing shook. When Samson wasn't effected by the adrenalin he remembered that he was wounded. He runned towards the sink to was his hands, the water came up slowly from the tap, although he had opened it completely.
"This is strange," he thought "what in the world is going on?" and he stumbled towards the door that led towards the sleeping area.
"He-hello, is someone there... please?!" he yelled.

Pete was having a dream about two hot models he had met at a fundraiser for Peltzer the previous weekend. One of the models was blonde and almost as tall as Pete, the other was a brunette, and much shorter. He had used a couple of his jokes earlier and now both of them had been hanging on to him for the past hour, mostly because of the wine, but that didn't bother Pete, it still looked impressive.

Pete led the two models out to the balcony on the top floor of the building in which the event was held. The taller girl tried to flag down a waiter for me wine, but Pete grabbed her arm, making a joke about it, he said, "Maybe we shouldn't drink any more or else we might end up spending the night here."

Neither of the girls got that Pete had made a joke at first, but when they figured it out, they started laughing as if he had said the funniest thing ever. Then one of the kissed him on the cheek, then the other. Soon all three of them were making out, while Pete leaned with his back to the balcony railing.

Suddenly, the balcony broke and Pete and the two models began falling toward the ground stories below. Pete was yelling, but the two models just stared at him as they fell. Right before all three of them hit the ground, Pete woke up and started out of his seat, almost falling onto the floor.

Once he had regained his composure, Pete looked around to make sure no one saw, but he was in his office alone. Pete looked at the clock on the wall: 3:49. It was still too early for him to get dinner before going to work, so he put his head down on the desk once again and closed his eyes.

Pete was talking to the models again, but he didn't have the same amount of patience this time. He took them out to the balcony almost immediately and went in for a kiss. However, on them resisted, putting their hand on his shoulder and saying, "Pete… Pete! Pete, wake up! There’s someone calling for help; I don’t know who. Come with me.”

"What?" Pete said, as he woke up and then suddenly realizing that it was Holly who had said those words, not the tall, blonde model. In fact, Holly wasn't tall at all, even though she had blonde hair.

Pete sat up and blinked a few times, looking at his worried-looking co-worker. Holly was fairly attractive, even though she wasn't what Pete went for most of the time, and she was definitely a lot older than most of his flings. She was probably one of the technicians that Pete worked with the most, probably because he trusted her the most, partly because he could actually remember her name.

Once Pete had completely entered reality, he repeated himself, "What's going on? Did something happen with the testing?"

Pete was hoping that she hadn't finished certain parts of the testing, he wanted to be there when they were done. He liked to be around as often as possible when all the testing was being done, as he didn't like to miss anything.

"Oh for God's sakes there must be someone here! Will you bastards HELP!!!???" yelled Devin as loud as he could. The woman, barely conscious, mumbled something about her glasses. It was only then that Devin noticed they were spider-webbed with cracks. She had apparently noticed this too.
"It's not the glasses you need to worry about." he replied, but even as he said it she began to groan, grimacing with pain.
"Please get help." she pleaded, staring up at him.
"Ok...Emily", he said, reading off of her I.D tag, "I need you to tell me if it hurts anywhere other than your leg. I know it's difficult, but if you can, I also need you to tell me if there's anywhere in this building with medical supplies." he spoke slowly, kindly, but forcefully enough to maintain her attention through the pain. He really didn't like the idea of leaving the girl, who knew what could happen while he was away? But he also knew that, depending on her injuries, it could be just as dangerous to stay with her and do nothing. He really hated this situation, it was so damned difficult to decide what to do, especially when he was unsure of what the right choice would be. He just had to hope that there would be someone in the building who could either get him the supplies, or watch her while he went. Leaving her alone was what he dreaded most. He knew how it felt to be in that kind of agony without someone to comfort you. He also knew that he wasn't a particularly comforting person, but that in her position, she would probably be glad for anyone to stay with her. Even if it was only so that they could distract her slightly from the pain.
He shouted for help a few more times before turning back to the girl. It would be pretty obvious to her how torn he was, he wasn't exactly good at hiding his emotions.
"Listen to me very carefully, Emily. If there are supplies in here, then I'm going to have to go and get them. While I'm gone, I need you to promise me that you'll try not to go unconscious again, ok?" he asked, his eyes almost as pleading as hers.

Gerald walked over to the panel and gripped the fire axe tightly before yanking it backwards. It came free quickly, being not as lodged into the electronic board as he thought, causing him to stumble backwards into one of the server racks behind him. He turned as he saw one of the servers crash to the floor and another fell from its shelf, saved from impact by the wires still connected to it. "Mother....fat monkey....RAAAAAGH," Gerald screamed as he banged the side of the fire axe harmlessly but angrily against the server rack. The communications room was trashed and it was only getting worse. Reaching into his front pants pocket in frustration, he pulled out his cell phone, intending to call one of the emergency numbers to come fix this mess.....and to turn in his immediate resignation.

"Of course, you fat whore!" Gerald shouted again as he threw his cell phone violently to the floor after noticing that the screen was dark and irreparably damaged from when he was thrown to the ground. "Ok just breathe," he told himself, slowing his breathing as he began to calm himself. "Think about what needs to happen," he continued as he opened his eyes and looked around at the room.

"I need some coffee," he finally offered in exhausted defeat, knowing the room would not be restored to functionality any time in the next 24 hours. Turning towards the front door, he exited and made sure to lock the door behind him, putting the keys in the pocket where his cell phone had been. As he reached the bottom of the stairs leading to the front door to the building, he looked out the open door and saw a man carrying someone as he struggled to open the front doors to the facility. Axe still in hand, Gerald sprinted off to the building hoping no one else had died but noticed the rain immediately. Looking up, he noticed the sky had turned a dark gray and a steady rain was coming down. Given the black clouds he had seen just a little while ago, Gerald knew this storm was going to be a bad one. They might be forced to just stay indoors and hold out until things got better.

As he flung the door open, breathing heavy and heart racing from the new crisis, he saw the large man standing over Emily the computer girl who worked here. Her pants leg was dark red from a gash in her leg and she was holding her side as she struggled to maintain consciousness as if she had hurt her ribs.

"What the...did you...", Gerald started, trying to figure out what happened and what to do at the same time. "She...we gotta...cuz...", Gerald spun towards the front door as he rambled, feeling surprise, anger, and fear when he noticed there was no one else in sight. Turning back towards the woman a thought streamed through the fog in his brain.

"She needs a health-pack," he concluded excitedly. Moving past the two in the reception office, Gerald stepped into the first floor hallway and turned right. Lightly jogging, he brought his arm back in preparation. Grabbing the axe handle near the top of his swing, he let his momentum and the swing carry the axe in a vicious strike against the locked door. The strike had broken the lock, but the axe was now wedged in the metal of the door on either side, causing the axe to function as a new lock. Furiously Gerald brought his foot up as he let go of the axe and began kicking the right door until it finally flew open and the axe fell to the floor.

All Gerald could think of when the door opened was to look down the hallway towards the reception office and yell: "Here!"

((EDITED: I epically fail sometimes.))

The pen in Lori's hand glided smoothly across the completed page of reviews, making small, important notes where they were needed, and checking things off that were required of her to do. After reviewing the page, she began to sign her name at the bottom.

But just as she was finishing off the last curve of the 'y' in her name, it felt as if a tremor ran through the building. The curve of that 'y' was instantly turned into a slightly jagged mark, though that was the least of the females worries. The light in the ceiling flickered a few times before becoming the same intensity that it had been before, and her computer monitor flickered as well.

Lori's movements paused, and she glanced around her, slowly tucking a few strands of her long hair behind her ear. She moved to put the pen back with her other writing implements, before slowly standing from the chair. Making her way over to her door, she opened it up, and made her way over to Everette's room. His office was directly next to where hers was, so it only made sense for her to go there first.

"Everette, did you feel that? Or am I just loosing it..." she began as she let herself into his office, noticing almost immediately that he was working through one of his books. She felt slightly embarrassed at what she presumed was a silly question, but it was like her to ask.

Out of nervous habit, she began to lightly pick at the sleeves hemline on her white dress, as she glanced at the male.

Emily gradually became more aware of her situation and slowly sat up a little more and looked over to Devin as he asked her about her injuries. She took a deep breath in that became ragged as the pain in her rib became more obvious to her. She looked down to see two of her ribs on the left side protruding, probably due to a crack and swelling.

"I think my ribs are wrecked." She replied slowly and quietly. She let out a little sigh. Then Gerald came in all wide-eyed and confused and ran off to get the medical supplies.

"Gerald can handle the supplies." Emily said watching him run down the hall. Her voice was quiet and weak. The pain was awful. Why did she have to waste her time daydreaming, and fall of the roof?

"Thanks for saving me." She said turning to Devin again. She realized he must have been the giant arms that wrapped around her when she had become unconscious. He was her hero at the moment, and it made him more attractive to her than ever. She noticed herself staring at him and quickly and nervously looked away.

When Samson didn't hear any response he thought he should walk to the main facility, maybe someone was over there. He stumbled through the door, which opened after using a little bit force. When he was outside he looked up to the sky, it was clouded and water poured down on Samson's face, he felt the cool water drench him and his clothes clinged to his body. He shivered because of the cold, but he moved on.

Samson was knew on the island, and had no idea where the main facility would be. He searched for a map in his pockets, feeling pain when he put his hand in his left pocket, but he didn't find one. "And of course there have to be friggin' trees around here, so I just can't see the main facility." he said, somewhat annoyed. He walked on, trying to follow the muddy road. After a while Samson stopped walking and he looked around. He tried to find a thing, anything, that indicated where the building was.

Then he heard a loud crack, first he thought it was from the thunder, but that would be impossible since he hadn't seen a flash of lightning that would fit with the time of the crack. He quickly ran to where he thought the sound came from, finally finding the main facility, Samson sighed in relieve. In addition, he relaxed his hands which had unconsciously changed into fists.

He opened the door, with his right hand, and entered the room. But what he found there was beyond his imagination, there were two persons, a male and a female. The girl appeared to be wounded, Samson could tell that because of the bloodied pants leg and some of her ribs weren't where they're supposed to be. Samson couldn't see the man's face, only his back but it was enough. The broad, large man looked capable enough to help her, which he somehow didn't really do, he just sat there. "This can only mean one thing." he thought, feeling his heartbeat pump faster.

"Get away from her, you, you..." he grunted while charging at the man, he leaped without finishing his sentence and landed on the man's back, slammed his elbow against the back of the man's head. Adrenaline entered Samson's vains, his pupils became larger and almost he entered a blind rage, but then he saw the girl's face. Just now she had looked like she was in huge pain, but now she looked pertified. Samson quickly got off the man and slowly walked backwards. He was tense and felt something he often did not: regret. "I-I... I'm sorry, I just thought that, that you..." and he pointed towards the girl "Just look at her. Y-you get why I did that, right?"

Devin had been just the tiniest bit worried when Gerald had come through the door looking like a mad axe murderer, complete with axe.
"What the...did you...She...we gotta...cuz.........She needs a health pack!" he said, and instantly Devin's fears were quietened as the man tore off around the corner, followed by the sound of metal on metal for a few moments.
He was about to go and help when Emily said "Gerald can handle the supplies.", and he sat back down again. Looks like he had got his wish after all, he didn't have to leave her on her own, and he had found somebody who might be able to help. The thing that worried him was her ribs. He didn't know how to fix those. The medical course he had attended only covered things such as broken arms and legs, and cuts like the one on her leg.
"Thanks for saving me." she continued, before suddenly looking away from him, he assumed from the pain.
"No worries, I couldnae leave you out there in the rain, could I?" he was reaching out about to take her hand to get her attention again, "Don't worry about the ribs, you'll be fine, and I'm sure between us we can keep you comfortable until help arrives-"
He was cut off as an elbow to the back of his head suddenly knocked him off his chair. He was falling forward onto the makeshift bed, and stuck out a hand just in time to prevent himself from landing on top of Emily.
He quickly got to his feet, his eyes cold as steel. He wasn't listening to any of the man's objections, he was angry. "What the fuck do you think you're playing at!? You trying to break another one of her ribs? Maybe puncture a lung? Eh? Try anything like that again and I'll show you why people don't pick fights with Scots! You want to apologise? Go help the axe man with the medical stuff. Maybe then we can start fixing things rather than breaking them!" he yelled.

Turning sharply he resumed his seat, back to the chef, just as he had been before, but now there was much more tension in the atmosphere, and that wasn't a good environment for injured people. "I'm sorry, I lose control a bit sometimes. Used to be a lot worse when I drank." he said to Emily, not Samson. If the chef thought he would get an apology over the bollocking then he would be thoroughly mistaken. His head had only hurt for a couple of seconds, he was used to blows like that only much harder, and his only concern had been the injured woman. The beatings had always been daddy's way of showing love, or at least that's what the old man had always said at the time during his alcohol fueled rages. It had only been at a much later date that Devin had realised that whenever he had too much to drink he became his father for a while, and that was why he hardly ever drank anymore.
Suddenly Devin realised he had been brooding, and let a small smile cross his face, if only for Emily's sake.

Holly watched as Pete blinked a few times and started to come too. She removed her grip on his shoulder and took a step back towards the door leading out into the hall.

"What's going on? Did something happen with the testing?" Pete asked her.

“Umm…” Holly said as she bit the inside of her lower lip, temporarily forgetting about the voice in the hall and why she had stepped into Pete‘s office. Knowing how diligent Pete was with the research and him knowing how obsessive she herself was with her tests, needless to say, she did not want to inform him of any mishaps in the lab. “Well, everything is mostly fine.” She strained the word ‘mostly’. “I dropped the last test tube in experiment combination number 7, but the rest of the results are well documented as usual. There was a tremor or something and then I came down here and heard someone…“ She began to rattle off an explanation then stopped abruptly. ‘Did you not feel the building shake?” She then questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Holly didn’t have time to hear Pete’s response before a loud clashing sound nearly made her jump across Pete’s desk. She pressed her right hand to her chest as if to keep her heart from pounding threw her skin as she spun around and peeked out the door. To her astonishment, she saw Gerald taking an axe to the infirmary door. She opened Pete’s door further and stepped out, glancing back at Pete with a ‘what the…’ look on her face then looked back out toward Gerald. He was now kicked in the door and succeeded in busting it open.

As he called out down the hall she asked in a shaky confused voice that she wasn‘t even sure he could hear “Gerald?! What are you doing? What’s going on?” Holly was still clutching both her chest and Pete’s doorknob for support.

"She needs a healthpack," Gerald exclaimed excitedly. Stepping in the infirmary, he grabbed the most healthpack looking thing he saw and darted back into the hallway towards Holly. She looks excited but there is no time for that, Gerald thought to himself. Racing up to her, he grabbed her small but warmly soft hand. Then he proceeded to yank her fiercely towards the reception office.

"Here," he said definitively as they reached to door. Holding up the first aid kit to Holly who was seeing the scene the first time with wide eyes, he attempted to stir her to action.

"You are a scientist, right? Fix that girl."