(Imraan Al-Hariq continued from May the Lord...)
Imraan awoke with a start in the logging truck.
The morning announcements.
He grunted for a moment, wanting to dismiss them and go back to sleep. But he couldn't do that. He had to remember the names that Danya read off. Both the dead and those who had killed them. Especially those. He would remember.
Then, he would wait. He would bide his time, if needed. He would let other forces take out some of the killers, if that was how things were fated to be for them. Imraan wouldn't interfere with His plan.
The realization had come to Imraan sometime after he had left the parish, left Jessie. He had wandered aimlessly, not eating or drinking. He had searched fruitlessly for Peter Siu, for any of the killers, but he hadn't found them. The announcements came on, listed more dead, and it was shortly afterwards that he realized what he could do.
He couldn't stop this game from happening. It had been foolish, impetuous of him to think that he could do that. He couldn't stop all of the deaths of his fellow students. And more of them were dead now than alive. For the ones that had fallen, they were in God's hands know. But he could, maybe, ensure that at least one student got out of this without blood on their hands.
He would wait. Until the very end of the game if necessary. And he could make sure that no killer would win this thing. He would make sure of that, by any means necessary.
The announcements ended. Imraan burned the names into his memory again, and then leaned back and went back to sleep.
When he awoke again, he felt peaceful. Refreshed.
He remembered as many names as he could.
That name he'd never forget, at least. Imraan wasn't going to pray that he could be the one to ensure that Peter Siu didn't win here. He'd never prayed to God to win basketball games, or anything like that. God didn't really care who won a basketball game. Instead, he'd prayed to thank God for what He had given Imraan. And sure, that included his skills. His size and strength. Now, he prayed briefly to thank God for those skills again.
Rachel. He hadn't heard her name lately. Maybe she deserved the benefit of the doubt. He'd see. If He willed for Imraan to meet with Rachel, Imraan would get the truth.
Oh yes. Her name had come up. And he'd warned her about that, hadn't he?
And others. They were the worst of the worst. They had killed; time and time again they had killed.
He would stop them. He would kill them. It was the only way.
Jessie had hoped that they could save people. She'd hoped that the two of them could find Liz Polanski and help her. Jessie had been willing to lay down her life so that other students could have a chance to live.
How could Imraan call himself a Christian if he wasn't willing to do the same? How could he say he was Jessie's friend if he wasn't willing to follow through on their promise?
But Liz Polanski was dead. There would be no escape. There would be no mass exodus of students from this island.
There would be only one survivor.
And Imraan would lay down his life to make sure it was someone who deserved it. And that meant he would kill those who were undeserving. It was Jessie's will. It was God's will. It was Imraan's will.
He set out. Two figures had passed by a while back, heading east. Imraan figured it was as good a direction as any.
(Imraan Al-Hariq continued in Back in St. Paul, if Just for an Evening...)