Ashes Of Angeline

Part VIII

After two hours of driving, the van you and the others took from the refugee camp sputtered to a stop. It was an older model, complete with rust spots and a single broken window. I sat on the ground in the very back, next to a still unconscious Emmet.

You pulled the vehicle over to the edge of the road as it became slower and slower. When it stopped, you withdrew the key out and put it on the dash. Nobody spoke for a moment, and the only sound was everyone's overlapping breaths. I watched you closely, wondering your next move.

Noah turned around in his seat in the middle of the van, watching Emmet. “I think he's dead.”

The words paralyzed my body, despite I knew Emmet was still holding on beside me. I knew from the magnetic pull compelling me to stay next to him, the painful cold that still made an appearance each time we touched, and the hushed sound of his breathing. The rise and fall of his chest further reassured me, yet my worry still lingered.

Emmet was in bad shape, with angry red flesh from where the fog burnt his skin. He slept the majority of the drive, and the few times his eyes opened they were glassy. He seemed delirious, and was sweating a lot even with the cold autumn air coming through the broken window next to him.

“Don't say stuff like that Noes.” Dem scolded from the passenger seat. “Can you see his chest moving?”

I watched Noah concentrate on Emmet's chest, holding his own breath as he waited to see if he was dead or alive. I had the feeling you and the others knew Emmet was still alive, but nobody would object to Noah checking because of your combined exhaustion. “Yeah, he's still breathing.” Noah finally confirmed.

The drive was nothing compared to the long road trips my family had taken during the summer when I was younger, before Trever went to college. Yet the fog had attacked each of you, and nobody had slept for long before it rolled in. Dem had her eyes closed, the passenger seat nearly fully reclined.

She had raw spots on her hands from the fog, and when open her eyes were bloodshot. From the rear view mirror, you looked at Emmet's unconscious form curtly before focusing your attention on the view outside your window.

“Okay so now what?” Kari interrupted the silence to ask. Her head was against the window and much like Emmet, she appeared to have red spots all over her exposed skin. She didn't look to be in the mood for moving.

“The fog should be a couple hours behind us now, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't keep moving. We'll be traveling by foot from now on, and if we stop for too many breaks it'll catch up.” You said all this more to yourself, as though you were figuring things out as you spoke. Which, you probably were.

“We need to find another car.” Dem purposed, opening her eyes to stare out the window. Small drops of rain had begun to fall, echoing off the van's roof and splattering the windshield. It was a peaceful sort of rain, and Noah traced lines from raindrop to raindrop on his window in boredom. Being on the opposite side, they remained disconnected.

“The last road sign we passed said we were thirty kilometers from the nearest town.” You stated, thinking back. “And that was probably around eight kilometers ago.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we don't exactly have any supplies.” Kari interjected. “And those twenty something kilometers with the fog on our heels will feel a lot like forty kilometers dragging him with us.” Her glacial, pale blue eyes met mine and I felt a rush of energy stir within me. It was involuntary, considering her words made me want to punch her in the face.

Nobody was leaving Emmet behind.

Yet I couldn't help but to relish in the bit of life that fluttered in my chest. Her eyes moved to Emmet though, and the energy was drained from me. Cold crept through my veins and everything around me dulled, the life around me becoming lackluster and washed out.