STRATEGY: “I’d stay in the old military fortress on the hill above Rocky Point, trap wild boar, and eat coconuts—and occasionally a haole or two. Then the locals won’t think I’m out to get them…As for the other surfers, they think I’m the nice guy and I’m not as big as Michel or Kaiborg, so I’ve gotta use that as my strength to get in range. I don’t really want to kill anyone, but I can do whatever I want once my sound weapon is in effect.”
LIKELY RESULT: Slater goes to the old bunkers on the hill. It’s been weeks since he ate his last haole. He’s hungry, and misses his audience and iPhone. He keeps composing Tweets in his head, only to sadly remember the only people following him now are trying to kill him.
While foraging for coconuts, the Champ is snared in a boar foot trap. He writhes in pain, clawing at the metal cable. For a moment, he wishes he chose a more practical weapon, like a hacksaw or gun. But negative thinking loses heats, so Kelly quickly refocuses his mind. He hears a rustle in the bush, coming from the direction of the old bunkers.
Mark Healey emerges from the underbrush, his skin coated in dark mud, the whites of his eyes burning like non-environmentally-friendly incandescent bulbs. It turns out Healey has been hiding in the same old bunkers Kelly chose as his retreat. Healey has a rifle, but a limited amount of ammunition, so he is hesitant to use his bullets unless necessary.
As Healey approaches, Slater reaches for his sound weapon. Mark pauses for a split second, curious. He has Kelly trapped, and how much of a threat is Slater out of the water? Kelly inches his finger toward the activation button. In a flash, Healey remembers all Kelly’s last-minute comebacks at Pipe. He cannot be underestimated, even after the Apocalypse. There’s no reason to go down smiling, like Machado did in ’95. Healey raises his rifle and shoots Slater between his beautiful eyes.