Seth
The sky is a fuzzy reflection of the asphalt beneath my bare feet. Grey. It's like a softer version of the heat that had burned the color black into the soles of my feet for the past few miles, and thunder rolls across it like a deep, rumbling growl.
My legs are wobbly when I finally collapse in a heavy heap onto the stoop of the nearest house, and I can't tell which stings more, my feet or my throat. In the latter a tightness has been building, and I think of Joshua. I think of him outside the hospital, his face wrought with grief and his cheeks stained with tears. The weather now melds with the weather then in my mind, and it is grey all the way around.
Grey, grey, grey.
My throat tightens further, and I struggle to hold back the burning behind my eyes. The wooden step to the stranger's home creaks under my bum, and my legs splay out awkwardly in front of me. They're too long. Knobby and gangly, I don't know when they'd become like this.
Maybe it was on the highway, while I'd been running. A frantic, mad dash, I hardly remember half of it. I just kept thinking that if I'd run faster, maybe I'd catch up to a car that looked like Joshua's. Maybe I'd catch Joshua.
I'd just wanted to be faster, and now I feel longer, strung out and worn bare. The weariness and the confusion are simply overwhelming, and I don't know how to understand the changes of my own body. Even to myself, I am a stranger.
What am I even doing here? Why do I even exist?
The thoughts swarm in my mind, and they're closing in on me, swirling around me.
I desperately want something to make myself feel more stable, something to give me purpose, explanation, reason. I think of Joshua. I think of him helping me out of the burning desert.
I think of him crying at me outside of the hospital.
The swirling darkness crashes in on me all at once, shattering everything all over again, and I can't take it anymore.
I curl up on myself, hugging my stranger's body as a sob wrenches its way from deep in my chest. I can't stop it. Fat tears roll down my cheeks as I sob, and I'm lost. Utterly lost.
I might have screamed. I probably did.
The rain starts falling then, bursting from the clouds as though it sympathises and agrees with my anguish. Quickly I grow soaked, and it isn't until the rain has been falling for a while in a steady patterpatterpatterpatter... that the girl steps out from the doorway of her house.
I'm the intruder, and yet she peers out over me and asks, "What's wrong?"
I sniffle sharply, my eyes snapping open wide.
"Seth? Seth!"
The fresh, electric air of a rainstorm zaps out, sharply replaced by the pungent, acrid smell of smoke.
My lungs choke on it, and suddenly I'm heaving as I scramble about.
Grey, grey, grey.
I see smoke, all around me. Breathing is a struggle, and every part of my body feels like it's been seared under the sun. My skin burns with every movement, and yet my muscles ache to move, to get out of here.
"Seth!" The voice cries again, and it isn't Rebecca.
Painfully, I turn my head towards the voice, my heart beating an anxious staccato in my chest. Help?
Through the grey Joshua appears, collapsing to his knees by my side, his features streaked with smokey soot and grief. The sight of him has relief welling up inside of me like a spring, and I want to throw myself into his arms. I'm safe, I'm safe, I think, a desperate strangled thought in my mind through all the jumbled mess of everything else.
But I can't move towards him. A sharp pain jolts through my head, shattering the thoughts of safety in Joshua. I suddenly feel shattering jars, see ravenous fire. I want to move towards Joshua, but I see the fire and I also want to shrink away. It's piercing in my chest, a bulky, painful feeling I've never felt before, and I don't know what to do. I struggle to breathe.
"Seth, Seth!" Joshua sobs beside me, reaching out for me but not touching, not knowing if he can or should. Everything feels warm, I can feel the warmth of his body, even from here, too hot, burning hot. I want to move away. I want to move closer.
"You're alive! Thank God, you're... you're alive..." He's choking on his words, blubbering, and I can hear the relief pouring from him as he speaks. My vision swims in smoke as I try to look at him, squinting through the grey, and he appears to be swaying, though I know he probably isn't.
Joshua sucks in a steeling breath, then coughs on the burning fumes around us. "Come— come on, we've got to get out of here. I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry. I—I'm going to have to move you."
His words run together in my head, and I don't know if I'm hearing him right. I can't really make sense of the words I gather anyway, that is, until I feel his hands on my arms, and suddenly everything is burning all over again. I hiss as the pain runs all the way up my shoulder, up my jaw as he pulls me up, and he whimpers more apologies that I barely hear. I feel his other arm around my back, supporting me as he tries to lift me, and he tells me he needs my help. I don't understand.
"I need you to try and stand, please, Seth. I don't know if I can carry you all the way." Joshua's voice is tight, and I can feel him trembling.
Is he scared? He shouldn't be scared... I think faintly. The pain is so immense, I'm starting to feel detached from it. I sway on my feet, light headed as I lean heavily onto Joshua.
"The... the chemistry room." Joshua grunts as he starts to make his way through the grey.
Where are we going?
"It's... It's burning, isn't it?" He's coughing now, choking on the smoke around us. My eyes are watering, and so are his, though I can't tell how much is still tears.
He's talking to me. I don't know if I can speak. I don't try to. Everything burns. My throat, my head, my skin.
The smoke is all around us, suffocating, and still we keep moving, Joshua dragging me more than me walking beside him. Everything spins, and all I see is grey. We're not going to ever get out of here, are we?
Somehow, though, we do. We make it. Sunshine pours onto us as he pushes open a set of doors, and suddenly we're staggering into something fresh, something that doesn't burn our lungs with each inhale. I'm blinded by the brightness, but I'm so relieved I could cry.
Joshua continues to drag me forwards, and I continue to stumble after him, clinging to him now, and I feel the softness of grass under our feet as we step off of pavement. I squint at the surroundings around us, and I see people. Loads of people. I see worried faces, bewildered faces, angry faces.
Two people in bulky brown coats and trousers trot towards us as fast as they can, gloved hands on their large, oversized helmets. There are more of them, rushing to and fro beside a big red truck flashing bright lights that hurt my eyes.
Everything is too loud, too noisy. Too many people.
Even with all these adults, I can't find it in me to be afraid. It's all too much. Just... I clutch at Joshua, and suddenly everything in me just feels like it's crumbling into a puddle on the ground. The world tilts, and then I'm tipping, falling into blackness as my body gives out on me all at once.
At least it isn't grey.
Joshua
"Seth!" I gasp.
He's heavy as he collapses into a heap on top of me, and he doesn't respond. Staggering, I try to keep him up right, looking around for Ethan. There are so many people here, too many people. When did all these people get here? My breathing is harsh, too loud in my own ears, and it hurts my throat with each inhale. Too many people.
I find Ethan; he's off to the side, looking mortified as he talks with... Oh, God, the principal. She's angry, in that silent, calm, adult way.
Too many people.
My heart is beating a wild rhythm in my chest as I try to take a step backwards, looking around for somewhere to go, somewhere to take Seth. There's too many people, when did all these people get here? They're staring, shocked, chattering too loudly. Pulling out their phones and pointing them in our direction.
My heart seizes up. This is not good, not good.
I know they're looking at the building; behind me smoke pours from a classroom window, from the chemistry room. But they're also looking at Seth.
Parents from the baseball game, people just passing by. Police officers standing outside their car, talking on their walkie-talkies. Firefighters bustling about with their long leathery hose.
Ethan called the authorities. He must have. Damnit, damnit, damnit. I told him not to!
They're all looking at Seth, seeing Seth. A man who turns into a monster made of bones, a man who is currently bleeding the color green into my shoulder.
The terror lodges deep in my throat, a burning fist I can't swallow around.
Frantically I search the crowd for an opening, for somewhere, anywhere, to escape with Seth, to hide him, but there's nowhere to go.
Too many people.
Two firefighters are approaching Seth and me now, and I stumble back from them, clutching Seth against my body. He's warm, almost painfully so, and he smells of acid smoke. He groans weakly, a long, low sound, but otherwise doesn't move, and I find he's a lot heavier now that he's not supporting any of his own weight.
His head rolls onto my shoulder, and I glance to him. A whole new wave of guilt and revulsion crashes over me, churning my gut. His face is a patchy, charred mess of sticky seaweed blood that drips down his cheeks and his nose, and his hair has been singed short and choppy. Parts of it are still smouldering. From the waist up his body is bare, and thin dark burns have leaked over his shoulders and his chest, mingling with the markings there till I can't even tell what is normal, inky skin and what is seared. Everything is black and green: even the tips of his angular ears have turned a deep, sooty back.
I caused this. This is my fault.
The immense remorse hits me all at once with a force so crippling, it almost makes me keel over. I caused this. I did this to him.
This wasn't supposed to happen! None of this was supposed to happen! How did this happen?
The tears are welling up in my eyes again as I look at Seth, and I want to look away, I need to look away, but I can't. My fault.
"Hey, kid. Kid, I need you to look at me."
A tiny gasp escapes me as I look up, realising only now that the firemen have reached us. They were talking to me, I realise, and I hadn't been hearing them.
"He's going to be okay," the first one tells me in a calm voice, lifting the visor of his helmet to meet my watery gaze. "An ambulance is on its way, and we're going to take care of him."
His partner reaches to take Seth from me, and I jerk backwards on instinct.
"No!" I yelp, and my legs trip up on the grass, buckling under me and sending both Seth and me tumbling to the ground.
Both firefighters look surprised.
"We need to take him," the second firefighter says, a woman. She kneels down to help me up, and her partner reaches again to take Seth from me.
"No." I gasp, my throat closing up on me. The firewoman grimaces, but she continues to try and move me. "No!" Again, more feverently. My voice cracks. I cling to Seth closely. They can't take him, they just can't. If they do, they'll find out what he is and then they may never let him go.
I may never get him back. I may never get to... fix what I've done.
"Joshua... Joshua, is it? He needs medical attention, so we're going to have to take him, Joshua." The firefighter says slowly, trying very hard to rationalize with me.
No. I want to wheeze, but I can't say it again. I just look up at her with wide eyes.
"You're going to have to let go of him, Joshua." She says firmly. Not unkindly, but firmly.
I know he needs medical attention. I know he's not okay. But they can't take him. Terrible conflicting needs churn in my gut, and I just can't let go of him.
More people jog up to us now—more people—paramedics. The ambulance is here.
"We need you to let go of him now." The second firefighter repeats, and she takes my arm now in her rough gloves. She manages to pry me off of Seth, even as I sob weakly in protest. I gasp for breath against the back of my hand, and I reach for him again, but they're already pulling his limp form away.
Pathetic. Horrible. A monster.
The thoughts swirl in my mind, crushing me, and I take my head in my hands, my gasps growing sharp and heavy. I want to curl up on myself and scream. The world around me is second to the raging inside my head.
You can't even protect him. Pathetic. Terrible.
Worse, you hurt him.
A monster. A monster. Monster.
For once, the epithet isn't for Seth, the alien. It's me. I'm the monster.
I hear the first firefighter exchanging words with one of the paramedics as they ease Seth onto the stretcher, though I can't latch onto the words themselves. The second firefighter, as well, is talking, to me, I think, though her words slip through my consciousness unregistered. She helps me to my feet, though I'm hardly aware of standing, and she keeps a hand on my shoulder as I watch the paramedics take the stretcher with Seth's unconscious body.
What can I do? What can I do?
I can't insist that they not help him—he needs help. Badly. I know that. But I also can't let them find out what he is, not now, especially not now, not when he's utterly unable to defend himself!
I see the roaring monster in my mind's eye, terrible teeth sharp in his maw, bared against an army of strangers. A new terror is suddenly gripping me—not of him, but for him. They'd never let him live.
All at once, I'm surging forward, yelling, "Let me go with him! Please! Please!!"
The firefighter at my shoulder holds tight, startled. She's speaking to me, urging me to calm down, telling me he'll be alright, but it's white noise in my ears. I only see Seth, charred and unconscious, being loaded into the back of that white, flashing ambulance.
"I can take him," says a woman in a bulky navy uniform, stepping forward—a police officer.
"No," says the paramedic who'd stayed solemnly conversing with the first firefighter. He's a young man, probably not much older than I, but when he looks at me, it's as though he's seeing a frightened toddler. "He was in there too." He doesn't say it, but I hear it in his voice: Look at him. "We need to check him for burns, and— he appears to be hyperventilating. Hey, look at me. It's going to be alright. You can come with us."
I'm thrashing against the firefighter holding my arm in a vice grip, but as he says this to me, I stop. I realise on then that he's right: my breaths are coming too fast, sharp and tight. Painful. My head feels light and the world looks too bright. The horizon is starting to tilt.
"Hey... Look at me. Breathe with me." The young paramedic takes my arm gently, gesturing to the firewoman that it's alright. She lets go of me.
"That's it," the man says as I take a shuddering deep breath, copying his. He holds it for a long while, bidding me to do the same, and I feel my heart beating in my diaphragm as I trap the oxygen in my lungs. He gazes calmly at me, his cheeks lightly puffed out as he counts down slowly on his fingers. I look between his fingers and his eyes; they're a deep brown, his eyes, weary around the edges.
I fear any moment now, the ambulance is going to leave, that it's going to leave without me, but I can't tear myself away from this held breath. My lungs burn.
Finally, he exhales. I let all the air out of my lungs in a rush, so fast I have to suck in a rapid gasp immediately after.
"Pretty good," says the paramedic. "Keep doing that. In through your nose for four seconds, hold for seven, then out through your mouth for eight. Repeat." Shaking now, I try that. To the firefighters and the policewoman, he says, "We're good here."
Carefully prodding me in the direction of the ambulance, he adds, "Now, let's get you in there before they leave both of us behind."
He doesn't have to tell me twice. I practically run in my haste to make it onto the vehicle.
In the ambulance, Seth has not yet woken up. He's been outfitted with a respiratory mask, and as I take a nervous seat beside him, I can see each of his breaths condensating on the plastic.
His sooty hand dangles over the side of the stretcher, inches from my lap. I don't dare take it. Not after what I've done. It sways as the paramedic slams the door shut behind him, waving in the air at his colleague in the front seat, gesturing to get going.
As the ambulance takes off, siren blaring to life, I try to ignore the all the tugging worries that come with taking Seth to a hospital. For now, I just need him to live.
.
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I struggled with how I wanted to write this chapter for a little while, and then it just happened.
The 3D art of our bone-chilling monster boy was a thrilling surprise for me by the fantastic and utterly wholesome FlameAshWood?!? It looks so cool??!! I love it so much!!!
(Also!! Total unasked-for, unsponsored promo here but like, if you like alien sci-fi stories?? You should totally check out his thrilling sci-fi, UFOs From Ventuya! It's got mindcontrol, teenagers fighting for survival, and heart-throbbing, terrifying aliens! 10/10, would recommend! :D)
And of course, have a wonderful day/night, and thank you for reading!