Night Two

The Mafia:

The Mafia woke up. Sneaking out of their tent, they didn’t pause or hesitate as they headed to their victim’s tent. Their decision had been made at the gathering yesterday morning. This- their mission- was nothing more than a game to them. A competition of cunning and strategy, where it was them against the rest of the expedition. It was a game they fully intended to win.

They slipped into their victim’s tent. Unsheathing their machete, the Mafia cut off the victim’s head in one smooth, dooming motion. Then they silently returned to their tent and went back to sleep.

The Medic:

The Medic rolled out of their sleeping mat and crept out of their tent. They debated for a moment before making their decision. A decision that would hopefully both save a life and determine who the Mafia wasn’t. Hopefully.

They crept to the back of their chosen patient’s tent and settled in to wait. And wait. They waited for an hour, then two, without hearing a single sound. Eventually they peeked into their patient’s tent. Still sleeping soundly. Disappointment befell their heart. The Mafia would have already made their move. The Medic had chosen wrong.

The Detective:

The Detective woke up with an excited smile on their face. It was time to investigate another person, and hopefully find the Mafia. They emerged from their tent before stopping abruptly. They needed to think of who would be the best to investigate.

They started walking to several tents before stopping and shaking their head. They crossed their arms and thought. Finally they decided on who to investigate. They snuck over to their target's tent and entered silently. The target was sleeping with a troubled look on her face.

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The Detective pursed their lips in sympathy and went to work. They shuffled through papers, looked through bags, and searched for hidden compartments. They found nothing. The Detective sighed silently and returned to bed.

Morning:

Scientists rose from their sleeping mats nervously. They left their tents and gathered in the center of camp. Terry looked around suspiciously. “Where’s Diane?” said Alma. The expression on her face said that she knew exactly where she was. AJ’s face fell.

Silent with trepidation, they filed towards Diane’s tent. Alma led the way, but stopped before entering. She stood there, unmoving, with her hand on the closed tent curtain. Terry pushed past her and entered the tent. The rest followed after him.

“Oh, gross,” said AJ, making a face at the sight of Diane’s severed head. Larry looked concerned.

“Does the Mafia really have to be so graphic?” he asked. Terry shrugged.

“That's just the way the game goes,” Alma murmured, looking away.

The four remaining members of the expedition returned to the center of camp. “Just us now, eh?” said AJ.

“AJ’s the Mafia,” Terry said in a flat voice.

“No,” said Larry, in a hard voice. “It isn’t AJ.”

“But he killed Pat and then Diane!” Terry insisted. “The two people most likely to read his face!” AJ scoffed.

“Only an idiot would do that,” he said. “Especially after you suggested it yesterday!”

“I vote for AJ,” Terry snarled. “It's obviously him!”

“Well then maybe I’ll vote for you!” retorted AJ. “You’ve insisted that it’s me from the beginning, and maybe you killed Diane to frame me!” The two boys glared at each other. Larry turned to Alma.

“Who are you going to vote for?” he asked her.

“I don’t know,” Alma said. “Both of them have convincing arguments.”

“I really think it’s Terry,” said Larry. “I trust you and AJ. And myself, of course.” Alma tilted her head.

“Well then why don’t you vote for Terry?” she asked.

“Because you can’t doom Terry with the Mafia’s fate quite yet. Whether or not I vote, the outcome will be the same. A tie.” Alma nodded, but said nothing. Larry stood.

“Come on everyone,” he said. “Mafia or not, we have work we need to get done before tonight.”