Keaton tells me he can walk into the tent himself, and somehow I find myself letting him go. I am not one to feel attached to things, especially not when these things are as awful as Keaton. All that being said, by not sharing my secret Keaton has saved my life.
On the walk here, I've decided not to forgive him for anything he has done. He is still a vile boy, simply a vile boy who I understand. And a vile boy who I owe my life to.
I consider walking inside the tent to see him, but the sun is no longer in sight. The soft red glow that surrounds the camp, coming off from the flames of the torches, goes out suddenly. It must be very late into the night.
The distance between myself and my tent is barely anything, and it takes me only a few seconds to grab hold of the cloth between my fingers. As I move the sheet that separates me from slumber, I remember that, unfortunately, I have yet to tell Alex and Harry of our little adventure tomorrow.
The adventure that will hopefully result in one death, if I'm optimistic. My personal goal is to not die, which seems to be my goal all of the time.
I groan, stepping backwards and heading towards their tent. The worn tarp scratches against my fingers. A shaky breath and I let the cloth fall, turning my back to the tent.
"We've got to keep our heads." The voice is Alex's.
"I'm not panicking." Harry's voice is louder than usual. "This is calm."
"I've known you for nearly a decade." He says. "This is you panicking. Next you'll go numb, and you'll stop talking."
Harry doesn't answer.
I take a step forward, then take a step back. This can't wait until morning.
I reach for the cloth again.
"I won't go numb." He says. "Not while they're still alive."
The sheet slips from my fingers, and I sit down at this. Not so much out of shock, but so that my silhouette doesn't show through the flimsy sheet.
If I even have a shadow in the dark.
"They aren't going to die." Alex argues.
"Four seizures." Harry says. "Four seizures today, Max has had. Tommy hasn't woken in nearly 18 hours. They think he's in a coma, which is as good as dead."
"It really isn't." Alex counters.
I expect him to continue, but he says nothing.
"So you are an expert in the comatose state now, are you?" Harry's voice is louder now. "Because last I knew, people were dumb enough not to put any life boats on ships, just because you thought they were unsinkable."
"The titanic is a line." Alex states it as a fact.
"Why, you won't tell me why?" Harry's voice almost sobs. "It's been eight years, and I know nothing about you. You know my story."
"I didn't ask you to be here," Alex said.
"You want me to leave you?" Harry begins yell now.
I hope everyone else is sleeping.
"I didn't ask you to be here." Alex reaffirms. "And you are crossing a line."
"You want to be alone while all of our friends are dying? Jared is dead. James is suffering severe dehydration, doubt he'll last the week. Robert pretends he's doing fine but if the sickness takes James and not him, God knows what he'll do. Who knows what Charlie's been up to, but he's either going to wither away from boredom or get himself killed. My brother is going to die, maybe he already has and I've been too busy wasting my time with him caring about you."
"Harry-" Alex warns.
"I wasn't done." Harry enters. "You are selfish, writhing in your anger and hatred. I don't even know you anymore. I don't even know me anymore. You think this is fun for me? You think I like chasing after you when I have so many better things to do with my time-"
"Harr-"
"And you have the audacity to ask me to leave, when I'll I want is to l-"
"We have an audience." Alex shouts over top of Harry.
Silence.
He meant me.
I enter the tent, quickly shutting the fabric behind me.
"I heard yelling." It's difficult for me to think up a lie on the spot. I'm not nearly clever enough to pull it off well. "Wanted to make sure that the conspirators hadn't broken in. And killed you."
Harry doesn't ask me how much I heard. I doubt he wants me to know anyway.
"You've been busy?" I try to cut the silence, attempting to make eye contact with Alex through the dark.
With only one candle lit, it's hard to see their faces. It's probably hard for them to read the lies off my face.
I see the vague shrug off Harry's shoulders.
Right. This is awkward.
"I talked to Pan," I tell Harry. "He gave us the go to set out for them in the morning. Just the three of us, if that's alright."
"You just find him?" Harry asks.
I shake my head. "Few hours ago."
"Why are you out so late?" Alex interrogates.
"I don't know, maybe I've had a busy day." I spit. "You don't know my life."
"Maybe if you didn't keep so many secrets I could." Alex says.
"Maybe I nearly killed a boy today. Maybe I nearly killed two. Or three." Does it count that I nearly killed Pan? I knew he'd live. And as for Sam and Eric, I didn't actively try to kill them. Just get Sam off my back. "Maybe I ran into the conspiracy and fought them off. Maybe I nearly got shot in the head with an arrow. Maybe I nearly watched someone die."
"Maybe you're dancing around a question." Alex argues.
"Alex." Harry interjects.
"It's fine." I say. It never occurred to me how much of my days only I know about. I don't tend to keep people in the loop of all the things that happen to me.
"I gained useful knowledge." I tell them. "I went looking for Pan, found Eric and Sam. Eric is unconscious; Pan's attack from the last fight really did damage on him. Got into a fight with Sam, but it wasn't much of anything. He'll probably go down easy tomorrow if we fight him. When I came back to camp, I found Keaton. He's very sick."
I completely skipped the part about Pan. It feels like crossing a line telling them about it though. Couldn't really explain why.
Alex scoffs. "Serves him right. Kiki has everything coming to him."
"Why do you hate him?"
Defending Keaton leaves a sour taste all over my mouth.
"He killed Jared." Harry whispers.
He didn't though. "It's more than that. You hated him before that."
"Do I look like I have to answer to you?" Alex demands. "What's your deal with him?"
"He saved my life." I feel honesty is the best way to go. "Sure he's violent, and full of himself, and a thousand other nasty things, but he saved my life."
"Doesn't excuse the other lives he's taken."
"Others?" I'm shocked that Harry and I speak in unison.
Alex stiffens. "It was long ago."
"Rufio," I remember Keaton saying the name.
Alex grabs my shirt. "Don't say his name."
"Was it an accident?"
"Nothing's an accident." Alex counters.
I scoff. "Doesn't mean he straight-up killed the guy."
"Why are you defending him?" Harry asks.
"Like I said, I owe a debt." I say. "Besides, I've killed a guy."
They look over at me, completely baffled.
They don't know about Samuel. I can't believe I forgot that I was keeping that a secret from them. Oops.
I brush it off, chuckling. "I have a past before Neverland."
"Right," I can't see it, but I know Alex is rolling his eyes in the dark.
"Anyway," I say. "Sorry about intruding. We'll be up bright and early tomorrow to leave, after I make sure the ill are ok for the day."
"Great to know you are listening to my orders." Alex's sarcasm literally burns my ears.
"It's cute that you think I'm doing it out of respect for you." I chuckle. "And you know, not to help our dying friends."
I know by Harry's face that I have joined Alex across the line that should not be crossed. But who would I be not to cross that line.
"So, I'm off to bed." I say. "I suggest you do the same. Goodnight Harry."
"Goodnight." His voice is quiet.
Alex was right, the next step is signing out for the day. Which is unfortunate, because Harry is fun to have around when he isn't a vegetable. I wish I could say the same for Alex.
4
The hole in the roof of our tent is at such an angle that I can watch the sun rise over the trees. The light slowly creeps into the tent, illuminating the space. As I sit up, the emptiness of the tent overwhelms me. At this hour, I should be the first person up, yet only the hammocks of Marcus and Johnny have bodies in them.
The itching realization that all the other hammocks held boys that are dying or dead.
It's not a tent. It's a mausoleum.
It's too early to think about this.
I exit the tent, and notice few boys are awake. Gregory, Devin, and two other boys sit in silence at the table.
I should feel exhaustion's shadow, casted by the early sun; yet I don't. Emotions aren't normally something I'm aware I'm experiencing. They tend to control me, and not vice versa. Now though, I'm aware of what I'm feeling. It's somewhere where nerves and thrill mesh together.
However, I doubt Alex and Harry will appreciate being woken up now. We were all up awfully late.
I decide to walk into the med tent, and notice that nearly everyone is awake. Odd, considering the sick need more rest than most.
Keaton's cot is tucked into the back corner. His body is nearly transparent now. Blue and red lines colour his skin. Seeing a living person's veins is unnerving. His eyes are shut, and I know I should check his body for a pulse but I don't have it in my heart to do it today.
James's bed is filled with flakes of his skin. He shakes slightly, his knuckles white, as he vomits into the bucket before him. His skin and lips are cracking, almost as if his body is experiencing an Earthquake, or a drought. The latter seems more likely.
I'm beginning to understand why Harry thinks Thomas will never wake. I shared a tent with Thomas and do not recall ever seeing him asleep, but I rarely see him do anything but these days.
Robert stands up, coming to me and taking my hands in his. His eyes squint at me, and I can't tell if he's sad or he's in pain. It's when he pulls me aside, and out the tent doors, that I know something is wrong.
I don't see Max.
"We should sit down," he says.
"Just tell me," I breathe.
He shakes his head, pulling me to the bench. We sit far from the others, and he holds my hands over the table.
"It's Max." I say.
He nods. "Let me update you on the others first."
"He's dead, isn't he?" My voice breaks.
"No," Robert corrects. "But let me tell you about the others first."
I don't answer, but wait for him to continue.
"James is getting very sick," he begins. "He can't keep water in his system, and it's not looking good. A few more days and..."
The words stop.
"Is Thomas in a coma?" I ask.
He nods. "Who knows if he'll wake up? Keaton came to us last night."
"I brought him," I say.
He nods. "I've been okay. In a lot of pain. The headaches and chest pains are getting worse. I'm worried it could escalate to a heart attack."
"I'm so sorry." I manage.
He shrugs. "I'm the most functioning out of everyone. It could be worse."
I don't know if this situation could be any worse.
"What's happened to Max?" I ask.
He straightens. "He had another seizure, but landed funny. I was asleep. He hit his head, or landed on a rock, or something, I don't know. It lasted fifteen minutes, at least from when James woke me up."
"He's alive though," I ask. "Right?"
"I don't know what's going to happen, but it doesn't look good."
"Is he awake?" I ask.
As soon as he nods, I'm up and in the tent, my eyes peeking around for Max. I hadn't noticed him before, and it isn't until I walk by his cot that I notice him on the floor. I squat down next to him and take his hands in mine.
"Are you alright?" I ask. "Let's sit you up."
Max doesn't make eye contact with me. "I can't feel my legs."
"I'm sure you're alright." I reassure him.
"I haven't been able to feel them for hours." He cracks a nervous smile.
I guess sometimes the only way to survive is by joking about a situation. As the smile fades off his face, I know he's not even fooling himself.
Robert pulls me back. "Leave him be. His body could simply be in shock, or he could be healing, regardless, pestering and moving him will do nothing to help."
"What if he is paralysed?" My voice whispers.
"Then we'll make do." He says.
I don't have words to say. It feels wrong to cry at the possibility of a friend's paralysis, especially while that friend is dying. Regardless, I feel the tears creeping up behind my eyes.
No one in this tent is going to live. I take it back, my tent was not the mausoleum, this one is.
"Charlie." I turn around to see Harry.
He moves towards me but Alex grabs his wrist, holding him back.
"We have to go." Alex says. "I packed breakfast. We've already lost daylight."
~~~~~~~~~
I like this, and I love the illness. Poor Max. S U F F E R.
Who's side effects are you most worried about? Let me know in the comments. Personally, I think James is disgusting.
As always, stay calm, and I'll see you Saturday.