Across the Deadzone

Chapter 2: Wystan

The first thing I noticed about her was her voice: it sounded as if she had spent the last five years doing nothing but screaming, or like her vocal cords had been dragged relentlessly across sandpaper.
The second thing I noticed was that I recognized her. Both her voice and her face, although she was about ten years older than the last time I'd seen her. She even had the small scar on her chin from when I'd accidentally pushed her off the monkey bars in third grade. And her dark hair, now matted and dried with sand, was still as wild as I remember. Her honey-colored eyes were colder, though, harder. I couldn't blame her for that. She'd probably been through hell in the past few years.
"Dawn, three days from now-" Callum was telling her when Pickup would be.
"Ophelia?" I asked, not caring that I was interrupting.
She frowned at me, suspicious.
"Yes?"
"It's me," I said, hoping she'd recognize me.
"Yeah, and it's... me," she said slowly before she turned to Callum sitting beside me. "Is he okay?"
Callum just shrugged without looking up from the broken compass in his hand and said, "I don't think he ever was."
"Where are the closest sleeping quarters," she went on, ignoring me. "The cheapest you have."
"Go through that tunnel," Callum told her, pointing to the Northern Tunnel, lit with torches to chase away the darkness that pervaded every room other than the Main Cavern. "Third opening on the left." He pushed up his glasses, finally looking up at Ophelia.
"Thanks," she said gruffly, going to turn around when I shot from my seat, sending the pathetic excuse for a chair to the floor with an embarrassingly loud smack. Some of the shopkeepers glanced my way before going about their business.
"Wait." I cringed inwardly at the desperateness in my voice. She huffed and looked at me, as if anything in the world would be better than listening to what I was about to say, even being eaten by a Rubble Creeper, which isn't a pretty sight, trust me. "I'm Wystan. Wystan Turnill." Her eyes widened ever so slightly. "Uh, you could stay at my place instead. It would be free."
She paused, running through the pros and cons silently. Finally, she nodded her head. "Alright. If you're sure."
"Oh, yeah, definitely." Too quick, I chide myself. I responded too quick.
Callum's head was darting back and forth, trying to make the pieces fit. He pointed at Ophelia, then at me. "Wait, how do you know each other?"
I shot him a look that said I'd tell him later. He just raised an eyebrow and smirked. With a subtle eye roll, I pushed my hair from my face and turned back to her with a small smile.
"Follow me."

Ophelia stayed quiet beside me as we made our way through the winding tunnels. The sleeping quarters were purposely near the Main Cavern so newcomers wouldn't get lost. The permanent residents weren't so lucky.
My flat was about as far back as you could go. So far that it seemed the builders had forgotten to install torches. After a while you got used to it, but you didn't like it.
"Wanna stop by the hot spring first?"
"Hot spring?" she asked, her voice showing the first hint of positive emotion since we'd reunited.
"Yeah, we have homemade soap and everything." I could tell she was interested, even though her face barely changed. She probably hadn't had a bath in weeks, maybe more. Not that that was weird anymore. Clean water was hard to come by now and you usually used it for drinking, not bathing.
"Come on. You had me at 'hot spring,'" she said, cracking a smile.
We fell silent for a moment as I changed course, nothing but the sound of our shoes against stone to break it.
It was so different than when we were kids. We'd never been able to shut up or stop giggling. It had gotten us in trouble way too many times. The thought of the woman beside me giggling was hilarious.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" she asked first, surprising me.
"Nine years, right?"
She nodded, looking almost sad.
"You seem... different." I meant it as a compliment but I should've known she wouldn't take it as one.
"Yeah, I broke a nail last week. It really changes a person. Or," she paused to shrug at me sarcastically, "it might be the fact that I've lived through an apocalypse. Who's to say what it was?"
"Ok, I get it. Geez."
I stopped outside a roughly hewn opening. The tunnel opened up into a small, steamy cavern. At the moment, it's completely empty. The only sounds were that of running water. "Here we are," I said, still miffed by the way the conversation had turned. "I'll uh, go get you some clean clothes. And a towel."
Ophelia nodded absently, entering the cavern. She threw her bag off somewhere. Inching her shirt up over her head, I noticed a long scar on her back, stark in contrast to her dark skin. Then another, fresher wound on her shoulder. Almost like a bite. I didn't realize I was staring until she glanced at me over her shoulder, wearing just her bra and pants, her eyebrow raised expectantly. "Are you gonna get me clean clothes or watch me take a bath?"
It was rhetorical so I didn't bother answering honestly. Still, I could feel my face growing warm. "Yeah, I'll just go get your stuff then."
"Take your time," I heard her mutter, so quietly I almost missed it, before I left her to bathe in peace.