I suppress a cough as smoke rises into the air. Today I and some other runners were put over watching over the burn pit, which destroys the things we can no longer reuse and is too big for us to carry out of town to one of the dump sites where things all just waste away.
Despite the cold that surrounds me, I stay away from the flames, not wanting to smell the burning plastic that hides in some of the furniture that's been damaged and worn beyond repair. It's already bad enough that the smoke will be clinging to my hair and clothing once this is done, meaning I'll have to scrub myself raw in order to get the stench out. It's not often I'm assigned to this job. I can't remember the last time I was assigned to make sure none of the flames get too far or catch on to something we don't need as ash, but at least Phineas is enjoying it.
I glance over to the blond beside me, his eyes wide as he watches the flames lick and devour one of the couches we had to throw away because some of the children jumped on it until it broke. He seems so enraptured into the chaos, not exactly enjoying it, but more so mesmerized. I don't understand why he insisted on coming with me today when he could be inside with Milo playing board games or reading or watching a movie, but since he rarely likes to spend time with me, much less insist to, I allowed it.
"Don't get too close," I warn him, but he simply rolls his eyes.
"I know," He replies. "Me and Penelope used to set things on fire all the time."
"O-oh, right," I chuckle awkwardly. "I forgot about all the trouble you two liked to get into."
He shrugs. "We never really got into trouble, actually, because we made sure not to get caught. We were pretty good at being sneaky."
A more genuine chuckles leaves my lips. "That you were."
There's a beat of silence, the sound of the fire crackling seeming almost a hundred times louder than before, and then Phineas speaks again.
"Do you still think about her? Penelope?"
I blink at him in surprise. "What? Of course I do. I think about her all the time."
"I do too." The blond's face scrunches up, as if he is fighting to get the words out. "I miss her. She was my best friend. I haven't really made any friends since she died, and..." He shrugs. "I don't know. I just wanted to ask because sometimes it feels like I'm the only one who thinks about her. Milo seemed to have more trouble getting over Veronica's death than Penelope's, and Veronica didn't even like him like he liked her, and she's technically not even dead now. She's just JARVIS in reverse."
I blink. JARVIS in... Oh, he must mean how in the movies JARVIS' voice actor became the Vision, who had a human body, and now Veronica lost her human body to become an AI.
"I miss when we used to do things to tick Ian off, or when we'd play pranks on the teacher at school."
"I'm sure you could find other friends who would do activities like that with you." I rub the back of my neck. "I mean, I'm not suggesting you should try to find ways to make Abel's current leader mad, because that's Janine and she's terrifying, but..."
"Most of the kids in my class aren't all that interesting."
"You don't know that."
"Oh, I do. At least you like baking and running and reading. They just like to talk, which gets boring, especially if it's gossip." He rolls his eyes. "That's the worse. And if some of them do like to cause chaos, they break things that don't need to be broken, like the couch. Dustin and Patrick were the ones who did it. They thought it would be a good idea to do front flips on it. Idiots."
"It'll only get worse as you get older," I joke. "The gossip and the stupid people."
"Who are your stupid people?"
"I'm my stupid people. You've seen the amount of things me and Peter have accidently broken, or lost." I smile when I hear him laugh. "Maybe you can start hanging out with Milo again. I'm sure he wouldn't mind you tagging along with him and his friends."
His laughter fades, and he looks down at his feet for a moment. "Maybe."
I can tell he's growing tired of this conversation, so I quickly change the subject when he looks up at me. "Well, for now you're hanging out with me and this lovely burn pit, in which we can do this."
I kick a piece of broken furniture, a broken off leg of a chair that probably got damaged by someone leaning too far back in it, into the fire. For a split second the flames split as the wood makes impact, but soon after deeps colors of red and orange engulf it, eating away at it just like it does with everything.
Phineas grins and kicks in another piece that fell to the side, watching with delight as the fire consumes it. There's a certain type of satisfaction that comes with destruction, even with something so minuscule. It gives you a certain feeling of power, of control. Well, most of the time, anyway. I'm sure those fleeting feelings were why Penelope and Phineas caused so much damage under Ian's reign. He and Sigrid had complete control of Abel and were making everyone who lived there work under them, their method and punishment nothing less than cruel. This was their way of taking some control back.
I wish destruction such as this would be enough to help us get what we need. Janine is trying to work out how we can get to the Edda, since that last remaining bit that's missing could be the key to everything. I want to laugh at the thought. How many times has such a sentence been said?
I try to remain hopeful-really, I do. I mean, I can't just join Peter when he talks about how this is just going to keep going, and I especially can't start speaking like that now when he's actually getting better while working with Sage... But sometimes I wonder if he's right, that this will just keep going and going and going with no end in sight. I mean, we thought the Meyer's spray would work, and it did work, but it didn't do enough to stop the zombies.
After Moonchild and what she said before she died, we thought there might be a chance for the cure, and there was! There actually was, but it took us a year and a half to find it, and now it doesn't even work on V-Types, and the only way to stop them is through the Edda, which is buried under rock and toxic residue!
It's always something, a never ending cycle of obstacles coming in to stop us. I always knew that being good would come with obstacles. I know my Bible well enough to know the devil doesn't want good to win in this world because he knows he's already lost in the long run, but that knowledge still doesn't make what's going on any less frustrating.
A loud pop reaches my ears, and there a stinging feeling on my arm, bringing a yelp from my lips as my brain tries to figure out what's going on. I flinch back, the small broken bit of a metal spring falling to the ground. It must've been flung up at me when the fire popped. I suck in sharply through clenched teeth, ignoring the raised brow Phineas gives when he sees my pained expression.
"Are you okay?" He asks, and I force a nod.
"Yeah, yeah, just a small burn. I'll be okay." I'm glad he can't hear me, because that means he can't hear the slight strain in my voice. It's always the smaller injuries that hurt the most. I hate burns the most, since I can't tell if the pain is just from the injury or if I'm already healing.
"Do you think we should get you some ice for it?"
"I suppose. You can stay here if you want with some of the others while I go to the kitchen for some ice."
He looks at the few others that are talking to each other and poking at the fire. Most of them are strangers that even I don't know the names of, so it doesn't surprise me when he shakes his head.
We head on to the kitchens, hoping that they haven't finished locking up yet. Thankfully when I try the door, it opens with ease, and I head inside to find a few of the Abel residents who prepared dinner earlier bustling around, finishing what's left of the cleaning and such.
Paula looks up from where she is, wiping down the counter, seeming surprised that someone came in when dinner ended almost an hour ago.
"Hello, Five. What are you doing here?"
"We need ice," Phineas answers before I can. "Callista hurt her arm."
Her eyebrows go up. "Hurt her..."
"It's just a small burn," I explain quickly. "Thought I'd get some ice for it."
"We should have a first aid kit in the-"
I shake my head, ignoring the way her brows furrow in confusion. "That's not necessary. I just need a few cubes of ice and maybe a washcloth to soothe the pain."
"If you don't bandage it properly the blister could pop and become infected, or it could scar."
"I have a lot of scars. One more small one isn't going to hurt."
She huffs, but heads to the smaller refrigerator and freezer that's powered by one of the generators. She grabs a few pieces of ice and wraps them into a washcloth before handing it to me.
"You know Sam won't be happy when I tell him you refused to use the first aid kit."
I bite my tongue, knowing he wouldn't be, since it would be a waste. Instead I cock my head to the side as I press the washcloth to the burn. "You planning to snitch on me, Dr. Cohen? Rude."
"Rude is rejecting my offer to help you. And it's not like he won't notice, seeing that there's a Demons and Darkness session after this."
I gasp softly. "Oh, right. I forgot about that. I'm not really feeling into the whole playing mood but I'll probably go to watch. Watching my husband be a dork really does brighten my mood. " I giggle. "He's so cute when he gets into character."
"Gross," Phineas tsks.
"Oh be quiet," I laugh. "I'm sure you'll think differently when you start crushing on a girl or boy."
The face he sends me tells me he is not happy with that reply, but I still keep my playful smile. I turn back to Paula, about to thank her for the ice and cloth before stopping. Her eyes are narrowed on my face, searching for something, although I can't imagine what. The air around her has changed somehow, and I shift uncomfortable from one foot to the other.
"Uh, Doc, everything okay?"
She hums. "Callista, you said you have a lot of scars."
"Well, yes. I mean, I've been hurt pretty badly... multiple times."
"I know. I know you had some acne scars on your cheeks."
I reach up and touch my face, heat creeping up my neck as I try not to feel too insecure. "I mean, yeah. I went through puberty during the apocalypse. It's not easy to find good skincare."
"Even less so as time goes by," She agrees, and I stiffen, wondering where she's going with this, since pointing out my flaws wasn't exactly what I wanted to go through tonight. "And yet they're almost gone completely."
My heart stops. Oh.
I was wondering when others would start to notice, since all my scars have faded from Van Ark's treatments. It was never brought up so I just assumed people didn't notice or forgot. I mean, it's easy to forget a few scars fading away when so much has gone on in our lives.
But it's been brought up. I brought up having scars. I brought this up. I made her notice.
Stupid! You stupid idiot.
"Well, I mean, I-I-" I try to find some type of excuse, but find none.
"And the burn scars on your chest is completely gone," She says, and my eyes widen. I'm surprised she even remembers when I got those scars, since that car blew up when she was dying and Tom had taken baby Sarah. I'd have thought my injuries would be the last thing she remembered about that day.
"I-"
"What are you getting at, Doctor?" Phineas asks, narrowing his eyes at her, and I can see that old distrust in doctors creeping out again, courtesy of what his biological mother ingrained into his head. I understand she did it for good reason, but still.
Paula stares at him, blinks, then looks back at me, and her again she tips her head to the side. "And didn't you lose cartilage in both your ears-"
"I think it's time for me to get back," I say loudly, a bit too loud, honestly, since it causes a few others that are still cleaning up to turn and look at me. I take a step back, resting my hand on Phineas's shoulder and giving it a squeeze. I use just enough pressure to let him know that it's time to go.
He looks confused, which is understandable, but something akin to recognition flashes across his face. I'm sure he's remembering his first encounter with a doctor in Abel, and how the prying questions made him nervous. At least, I think that's what he's remembering, since a second later he says,
"Yeah, I want to go back to the burn pile. See if I can find some more stuff to throw in there." His tone of voice isn't very convincing, but it's not because he wants to stay.
"Callista, I'm only being curious-" Paula starts, and I cut her off with a defensive tone.
"I understand, but I don't like what you're trying to imply."
"And what is that, exactly?"
I don't answer her, instead taking a few more steps back. "Come on, Phin. Let's go." I look at Paula. "I guess I'll see you later at Dungeons and Dragons..."
She hums, and I can feel her eyes studying me as I retreat. "I guess so."
•
I keep my head down, just barely listening as the others sitting at the table describe what they're characters do next. One of my hands holds open a book that I'm only half focused on, and the other rests on Sam's knee, the one he isn't bouncing out of excitement as he tells the others whatever spell his character is casting.
I can feel Paula glancing up at me every so often, but I don't move a muscle, even when I can hear the gears turning in her head like a well-oiled machine. Of course, she won't say anything here. She's smarter than that, but I'm sure she'll bring it up to Maxine later, or Sam, or-oh God-she might even try to get into contact with Peter at Banktown. Peter, the person who keeps secrets almost as well as I can keep my mental stability. He won't outright say anything, but when prompted...
I've just got to keep this up a little longer, then Sage will have his treatments ready for me, and then once I'm cured, I can tell everyone. It'll be one less secret off my shoulders, and I won't have to worry about them trying to make me get hurt or put me in more danger than I've already been put in.
I swallow, my throat feeling tight as those thoughts swirl through my mind like a whirlwind. This isn't selfish, is it? To not want to be asked to hurt myself again and again and again? I mean, I say I don't mind, that if it's necessary... but is it necessary? I mean, me keeping it from them has kept them from asking, and I've still made it out alive, and so have my friends...
I'm not going to cave and let out my secrets to more people, not yet. I'm sure they'll be just as upset if I told them now than when I tell them once I'm mortal again. That won't change. Although honestly, why would they be angry? Why is it any of their business?
I release a long breath through my nose, my eyes unable to remain focused on the words on the pages before me. They all just blur together, becoming one giant ink dot on ivory pages.
If Paula is noticing, then others probably will too. The fact that it took them so long is a miracle, but I shouldn't have expected it to last forever. There's only so long you can keep a lie hidden inside you before it burrows its way out, breaking through like a parasite that's grown too large for its host.
I unintentionally squeeze Sam's knee, and he jolts, turning to me wide eyed and flustered. Thankfully no one notices since the other characters have the center stage at the moment. I give him an embarrassed smile and a quietly mouth an apology before he lets out an amused huff and leans a tiny bit closer to me.
"You just love make me squirm, don't you?" He whispers, and I snort.
"As if you don't love it just as much as I do," I reply, and for a moment I don't think about Paula or the Edda or anything else. It will always surprise me how Sam manages to just, in these moments, make me forget about everything, even though he's not trying to in the slightest.
But just like that, the moment is gone, and Maxine calls his name to bring his attention back to the game. I watch with fondness as his eyes light up as Maxine sets the scene of all the characters sneaking around through the village, trying to stay as quiet as possible in order to not get caught out past curfew, since doing so could-no, would-land them in jail for the rest of the night and longer.
Seeing him here, in his element, is beautiful. There's this contentment there as he uses this to forget, to indulge in being someone else for a change. As much as I try to get in it, with my character, Clarke, that comes in from time to time, I just can't connect with it like Sam does, but I'm perfectly content to sit and watch. Seeing him get these few moments of happiness is enough.
And I do. I watch him, his laughter ringing through the air as he rolls high enough to cast some spell on the guards to make him think he's a chicken so the character can walk right past. I watch as the others have a fist fight with some of the other guards when they do get caught, and I listen as Amber's character tries to smooth talk the jailer since they weren't able to win in their fight against the guards.
It's all very entertaining, but then something... switches inside me.
It happens so quickly, stealing the breath from my lungs-fear, anger, pain, sadness. I don't know what to make of it, but I suddenly can't breathe. A certain panic washes over me, like when I have panic attacks, and I blink back the sudden tears rimming in my eyes.
What's happening?
Stupid question, really. I know what's happening, which I why I lean over to whisper in Sam's ear.
"I'm going to head out for some fresh air," I whisper, and he looks over at me, eyes widening when he sees my distressed features. I quickly stand up from my seat and leave the room, leave the building, ignoring the cold night air that stings my lungs as I head back for the coms shack. My inhaler is in there. I can't remember the last time I used it, but I still curse myself for not taking it with me.
Each step takes an outrageous amount of effort, but I keep my breathing deep and slow despite the mounting pain in my chest and my body telling to breathe quicker, faster. It hurts, but I silently tell myself it hurts no worse than any other injury I've had before, although it doesn't help. None of it helps, especially when the dim lights hung up around the streets only seem to get dimmer and dimmer and the darkness seems to be coming in from all around.
"The thing is, Abel Runners, I've always known there was something up with you. Something wrong."
I gasp, my lungs burning as panic floods through my veins. My head pounds. I think I've heard this before. It's been months, I think maybe two or three? But I've heard this before.
"Runner Five! I should have dealt with you a long time ago."
I can't place the voice, even as it echoes in my head like an alarm bell, loud and overbearing and painful. It's so painful. Everything hurts. Tears slip past my lashes, my body aching as my steps become more like desperate shuffles as I can't concentrate enough to pick up my feet. I can barely remember what I'm doing, where I'm trying to go.
It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!
It's dark in the coms shack when I get there, but I quickly turn on the light and let the light push away the creeping darkness as those sounds-metal clanking and whirling, clangs of metal on metal-all sounds I've heard before invade my mind, my body. My hands shake as I start searching through the drawers, wishing I had been a tad bit more organized.
"...There are forces running this world, Runner Five. I think maybe you used to try to protect people from them, but you've been corrupted, like all of them! Like the Edgeware Dragons. Like A.N.N.I.E. Like Colonel Sage! Corrupt, and turned to evil!"
Yes, I remember this man mentioning Colonel Sage, but it makes no sense. Sage has done nothing but help us fight against the Last Riders, against the V-Types. He's helping me and Peter by researching this cure. How could this person claim Sage is corrupt?
I find the inhaler and pull off the cap to take a puff. As soon as I inhale the medicine, I hold it, count to five, and breathe out again. The sounds seem to fade a bit, but not completely, and I can feel blood dripping from my nose even as the pain in my chest dies down.
"I have to cut the infection out from the root!"
I grit my teeth, my inhaler falling from my hands and clattering to the ground as my hands come up to grab my pounding head. I stumble back, the room of the coms shack seeming to close in on me as Sam yells in panic.
"He's coming after you! Run!"
I don't run, not even with Sam's voice echoing in my mind, dripping with fear. But still I leave after picking up my inhaler and putting it in my pocket. The light from the window extends just far enough to reach my heels a few steps out of the shack. I don't know where to go, my body seeming to be waring between calm serenity and total panic, making me question if the inhaler was such a good idea.
It's like I'm stuck in between endless screaming and complete silence. Red flashes from above at the beacon of the tower. It washes over me and is almost hurts to look at, but it's better than going into the darkness of town, and it's better than staying in the tightening walls of the coms shack.
I don't think much after that. I just start climbing.
I get about halfway up before I have to cling to the ladder, letting out a cry as pain shoots up my skull, my chest tightening as my body screams how terrible of an idea this was as I look down.
"I don't like to do this. I don't want to! But it's the only way... You'll be the first to die, and you'll keep dying forever!"
"Guh!" I ask, tears dripping down my face. It's almost over. I know it is. I keep pushing, knowing I can sit down and ride it out-ride all of this out and then I can sit up there and just look at the endless sky and pretend nothing's wrong. Yes, that's what I can do.
I just have to keep going.
I hear a scream-Janine's scream, and my blood goes cold when I hear that man speak again. I taste something sour, and there's a burning in my veins.
"I've worked it out. She's the root of it... The world's better off without her."
I grunt as my hands come up to grab the sides of the railing to pull myself up from the platform. If I remember correctly, this should be the last of it. This should be-
I shout in pain, crumpling in weakness. I can feel myself start to fall backwards. My hand flings out to keep hold of the railing as my arms shake, suddenly unable to pull me back up.
"You'll not leave. You can't!" It's that man again, although this time his voice is more of desperation than anger. It's tinged with madness, like before. He coughs. "I can't let you go back to the island! It's rotten to the core. You've no idea what's going on outside there! I've read things! I've seen things!"
I cry out as I try to pull myself up, my feet planted where they are on the platform as I strain in attempt to pull myself upright. I can't. My fingers ache. Why can't I hold on? Why do I feel so weak?
"It's over now," A woman says. I recognize her voice, I think. It's a faint fondness-no, not fondness. Definitely not fondness. "It's over. You should come home with me."
"It won't be over until everyone on this island is dead. I promise you that." The man coughs again, and it's one of those coughs that sounds like you might end up spitting a lung out if you're not careful. "While one person remains alive, it can't be over!"
My grip slips, and I feel weightless for a few brief seconds. The wind cuts through my skin, and I look up at the stars in the sky, watching, unmoving, uncaring as I fall faster, faster, faster.
Several loud cracks reach the air as I hit the ground, and unfortunately I don't receive the pleasure of blacking out.
•
"Callista? Callista?!"
My eyes move around, the light blinding as Sam leans over me, tears dripping down his face as he tries to get a response out of me. How long have I been here? Seconds? Minutes? Hours?
I don't know how long I laid there outside, unable to move, half conscious as my body screamed out in pain and in a desperate attempt to heal. It's all a blur of Sam finding me in the darkness, seeing me lying like I was at such an odd angle and figuring out what happened without me needing to tell him. He drug me back inside, wincing every time I let out a noise of pain, since noises were all I could muster since concentration failed me, or maybe I suffered brain damage from the fall and am just now healing from it.
There're sharp pains all over from broken bones and ruptured organs, along with the deep burn as my body tries to repair itself. I swallow, trying to muster up the words.
Sam's eyes widen as I try to croak out a response, my face twisting in my pain as I do so.
"Callista?" His hand cups my face as gently as he possibly can.
"I..." My jaw clenches at the burning inside me, seeming to be everywhere at once. "I saw s-something. Vision... like before."
"Before? What do you mean? Is that why you fell?" His voice shakes slightly, but he manages to keep some of his composure. I nod the best I can.
"The man who hurt Janine... Going to kill her. I saw it again." I try to push myself up, but a sob leaves my lips from the sharp pain that shoots up my shoulder.
"D-Don't move," Sam commands, although he doesn't push me down, too afraid to hurt me anymore. "So you saw a vision? But why did you try to climb the tower? What-what were you thinking?"
"There's more," I say instead of answering, mostly because I don't have an answer for him. "He said something about an island... he said as long as there were people alive there, it would never be over, and that it was rotten to the core."
"Island? What island was he talking about?"
"I don't know. But I heard a-a girl talking to him. She called it home. I think-I think it was home for them both. And it never being over... I think-I just feel that he was talking about the apocalypse. I think he believes the key to it is his home-that island." I breathe in sharply. "Wherever it is."
A/N: Here you go, guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please be sure to vote and comment! Thank you and have a blessed day!