James had woken up to Cassedee frantically cleaning his wounds off with a piece of her sweatshirt. The hood.
She ripped the other half in between her teeth. James could hear the tearing noise. He winced. His head was pounding.
Her t-shirt was ripped at the bottom as a result of getting seared almost to death by the green smoke.
Her black converse covered all in dirt. Soot was smeared across her cheek. Her light brown hair was matted at the top and the strands at the bottom were ragged. James desperately wanted to wipe it away with his thumb.He sat up in a daze, unable to process what had just happened. He looked around carefully with his eyes. His head was in too much pain to move fully.
It looked like they were in some sort of basement. The lights were just bulbs jutting out of the ceiling. If you could even call it a ceiling.
The floorboards exposed and the beams supporting the ceiling were zigzagged across the cement floor. James looked down slightly. Rat droppings scattered all around the floor. In the corners. Cobwebs painted each corner and old furniture could be seen piled up on each other against the wall.
This must be the cellar.
The smell is what bothered him the most. It was musty and old with a faint hint of earth. Almost like dirt but not quite.
Then, all the way in the back corner was a tree. Growing right in the center of the floor. James squinted. Butterflies floated around the tree and flowers bloomed from the leaves.
There was a deer grazing from the tall grass. It looked like a mini island.
"Cass, look at that."
She stopped blotting and turned around. "This place is failing to amaze me more and more."
"I think this is supposed to be a safe space. A safe square."
Cassedee paused. Her eyes grew wide. "What did you just say?" She said quietly.
"A safe square..." James looked at her wearily. "What?"
Cassedee glanced down and closed her eyes.
"That's what my mom used to say whenever she would talk about our house. Safe square. That was our code word for home."
"Cass, I'm sorry. I–"
"It's okay, James." She paused. "I heard her, you know."
She let the half of her sweatshirt fall. James could see blood on most of the cloth. Had he bled that much?
"She was in my head when we were flying. Telling me which way to go. I don't know how and I don't know why but she was."
His stomach grumbled. They haven't eaten for at least two days. It felt longer. James hadn't even thought about food. Their whole world had been flipped upside down. And the thirst. The thirst was unbearable.
They had lost their friend Ethan. Nole was becoming something–different. Something evil. And James had to figure out what. Then there was Mr. T. This strange world they were in. The oblivious party guests. The clock never changes past midnight.
He didn't have half the answers he needed.
James knew somehow that time was different here. He just wasn't sure how exactly.
He sat up slowly and pushed Cassedee's hand away from his face.
"I'm fine, Cass." he mumbled. And winced. The pain was throbbing through his temple. He reached his hand to hold the wound, now understanding what real pain was. It felt like a thousand knives stabbing him in his head. He couldn't think.
Cassedee rolled her eyes. "You aren't fine." she said and kept plotting at the wound.
James nudged her off and pulled away– batted at her hand.
She stopped dabbing and gave him a blank stare.
"Stop being a baby and let me take care of you." She grinned at him and shook her head. James couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or just messing with him.
James wanted to tell her how he felt but something was holding him back and he wasn't sure what. Fear of rejection? Friendzone? He could feel the butterflies fluttering in his stomach. His hands were clammy. He should tell her. This could be their last time together.
Alive.
He took a deep breath. He could feel his heart pounding faster as he tried to muster up the words. He didn't know what to say exactly. How to phrase it correctly. James calculated the risks and weighed the options. If he told her how he felt, it could ruin the friendship.
If he told her how he felt, it could be something more.
She was so beautiful. Her light brown hair was almost blonde in the light. Her hazel eyes shined against the coldness of where they were. Her lips perfectly formed at the edges and her eyebrows now furrowed in concentration.
What if he did? He reached up slowly and touched her face with his hand.
She looked at him quizzically. "What are you doing?" She asked.
James' face flushed. He could feel his cheeks getting hot.
He took his thumb and wiped away the dirt that was resting on her cheek. Her face was soft and delicate. James didn't want to ruin this beauty even more.
"This was on your cheek, Cass."
She looked down at his thumb and smiled a little.
"Oh..." she chuckled. "Thanks."
She smirked again and shook her head.
"What?" He asked.
"Nothing."
She hesitated.
"I could've wiped it off. You could've told me about the smudge."
James shrugged. "I guess."
Cassedee smiled. "You guess, huh?" She lightly punched his arm.
"Yeah, I guess." he said back mocking her tone and grinned.
"You're such a dork, you know that." She said playfully. James now realized that she knew. She knew he liked her. He paused, unsure of what to say next.
"And where's Emily?" She whirled around and stopped when she got about halfway around.
Emily was tucked in the corner, crouched under a pipe. Her hair was still perfectly in an updo. James didn't know what to call it. It looked like a high bun but it was twisted up in a knot. Her dress was not torn. Not even a little. No dirt smudged on her face. She had been untouchable against the most vile and evil creature to exist.
James didn't know what to do. Should he go over there? Should he introduce himself? What if this was evil Emily? He looked around wildly trying to find any safe space to duck for cover. Just in case.
James winced as the wound on his head still throbbed. He got up cautiously and glanced down at Cassedee. She was pleading with him not to go over there.
"What are you doing, James?" Her voice was low, barely a whisper. Just leave her alone. Think of what she did to us out there. Think of who she is working with."
James considered this. She did have a point but something about this Emily was different. Something was pure. James sensed it.
Cassedee glanced over at Emily and hesitated. She pleaded with James but he shook his head.
"Something's different about her. I can tell. I don't know what but I can sense it."
She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "What if you're wrong?"
He sighed and grabbed her shoulders. "I'm not," he said sternly.
She nodded, knowing now that there was no convincing him.
James straightened himself out and squared his shoulders. He was ready to face whatever this thing threw at him.
He calmly walked over to her. He could feel his heart speed up faster and his palms were starting to sweat. He tried to remain as collected as possible. But it was impossible.
James carefully walked over to Emily and reached out a hand. He placed it on her shoulder and nudged her. She groaned and woke up startled. Revealing her face.
She had on red lipstick and blue eyeshadow. Her eyebrows perfectly shaped and her nose was small and round. Her light brown hair was parted off to the sides and curled. She had pearl earrings in and white evening gloves. A ring was on her finger. James didn't remember seeing that before.
He knelt down and began talking to her softly.
"Excuse me, Emily?" he said quietly.
Suddenly, she looked up and tears were in her eyes. "Why do you have my daughter?" She glanced over at Cassedee who was staring back too.
James looked at her–he could feel his eyebrows furrow together. He could feel his heart drop.
"What?" He said.
She suddenly lunged out and grabbed him by the shoulders.
"She's been missing for over twenty years!" She paused. "Her and her friends, that young gentlemen...James!" She suddenly shrieked. Her eyes now wide.
James couldn't believe it. He pushed her off and she began to wail.
"All of them. That whole group–poof. Gone. Just like that. I haven't seen my daughter in over twenty years. I haven't seen my sons either. " She then looked up and stopped talking.
"Cassedee?" Emily's voice got higher pitched. "James?" She tensed up, her voice growing quieter now.
"Where's Nole? And Ethan? You all were supposed to be here!" Her voice rose again
Cassedee cautiously took several steps forward, not wanting to provoke whatever this thing was. This was not her mother. Her mother had blonde hair and brown eyes. Her mother was short and sturdy. This woman was tall and thin. Brown hair, green eyes.
"Who–how–do you know me? And James? How do you know what happened to us?"
Emily looked at them with hollow eyes. "Because I was the one that made you disappear."