Across the Deadzone

Chapter 17: Wystan

I returned to my flat somehow feeling simultaneously heavier, and like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders at the same time.
Telling Colma- kissing her one last time, even if it was just on the cheek- made it feel like my leaving made sense.
It was late, later than I had thought, so I was surprised to see Ophelia sitting up on the couch, absently stroking Timber's fur as the dog flopped over her lap.
"Wystan?" she asked softly as soon as I pulled the metal sheet of a door closed behind me. I sat down across from her, staring at her curiously. She took that as a sign to go on. "Will you do me a favor?"
I shifted, slightly apprehensive. Still, I responded, "Sure," my voice cracking a bit.
Her hand stalled over Timber for a moment, and the dog let out a whine.
She cleared her throat sharply. "I'll probably be gone before you even wake up." She hesitated for a moment, letting her next words marinate in her mind before she said them aloud. "So, will you tell Cleo that I'll miss her? And thank her for, um, everything she's done?"
I reached out and gently took her hand. Before I could stop myself, the words, "Or you could tell her yourself," tumbled from my mouth. She took her hand from my grip.
Her lips pressed into a thin line and she tried to keep her tone light. "You know I can't."
I nodded, looking down at my lap. The words had come out of nowhere. Stupid mouth, I scolded myself, always had to say things before I think them out.
"I know," I started, trying to think through how I could fix what I just said. "I just don't wanna lose you again."
She sighed. "You know I wouldn't leave if... unless I absolutely needed to."
I nodded slowly. So much for getting her to stay. "Can I hug you?" The ghost of a smile flickered across her features.
"Just this once," she replied jokingly. Before she could back out, I tackled her in a hug with the strength of a bear. She fell back against the couch, tugging me into her arms.
"I'm gonna miss you, Wys," she wheezed. I kept my mouth shut, just buried my head into her shoulder. Tears pricked at the edge of my eyes.
This was the first time I had been able to hug my best friend in nine years.

Somehow, we fell asleep like that. Hours later, a particularly nasty nightmare rattled me from sleep. They seemed to be getting more prevalent. I disentangled myself from Ophelia's arms as softly as I could.
I wiped at my damp forehead with my shirt sleeve, trying to steady my breathing.
Visions of my parents, Peyton and Sanjay, Octavia and Thayer, and everyone else I lost swam just beneath my eyelids every time I blinked, their bodies soaked in their own blood.
Most of those were pretty normal, but Ophelia had been thrown into the mix. Her death had been the most gory: ripped apart by Rubble Creepers.
I leaned my back against the wall, sliding down until my butt hit the floor. I pulled my knees into my chest, curling in on myself, wanting it all to stop. The fear, the nightmares, the pain, the worry. I just wanted it to end.
I felt a wet nose against my hand and flinched away before remembering that Timber was here. I let out a short laugh.
"What am I doing, Tim?" I asked her as I ran one hand through my hair and the other scratched her ear. She cocked her head at me. "I haven't stepped outside in years and-" I choked on my words as a sob welled in my throat. A tear slid down my cheek. I didn't bother to wipe it away.
Timber leaned forward, licking my hand. "Yeah, maybe I shouldn't go." Now I was getting doubts? I forced out a shaky breath. "But not knowing if she's alive will kill me... All this time I thought everyone from my past life was dead, and then she showed up. It can't be a coincidence, right?"
I laughed, realizing I was having a conversation with a dog. Strangely enough, I didn't find that as weird as I should have.
"I don't really have a choice, do I? She's still my best friend."
Over the last few days, I realized that that was still true. She'd changed. We both had. But there was something there, faint as it was.
I yawned widely. I should be getting to bed. In just a few hours, I would begin the hardest journey of my life.