Across the Water

Chapter 7

96 Hours

Nine

I got maybe three hours of sleep last night, the rest I had the pleasure of spending frozen in a pool of my own anxiety while clutching at my gut. My stomach, in addition to its daily burden, was especially pushed to its limit when tried by my mental distress last night. Needless to say, I'm feeling pretty damn shitty, so I'm hoping things go well with my grandmother, or else I just might give up on life right now.

Lisa and Twelve are up, but they're doing the whole overly-polite thing again. I'm too exhausted to care about what drama could have possibly occurred between them last night in their tent. I prepare breakfast, and because Twelve is so heavily preoccupied by trying to avoid whatever awkward situation he's gotten himself into, I'm able to avoid his surveillance and neglect eating breakfast entirely.

When the time comes to sneak into the village, I'm a mess of nerves, but now is not the time to cater to them. We have things to do.

We make the short walk to the village edge, and after a quick consultation with the paperwork we stole from the Settlement, we find the street address of the cabin. The cabin we're looking for has several neighbors, and to avoid detection we leap from bush to bush and crouch beneath windowsills. Even though it's early morning, we're fortunate there's not a jogger out here to spot our mad dash to our hiding spot. We think we're being sneaky, but if somebody looked out their window we'd look pretty fucking suspicious. More suspicious than if we'd walk down the street like normal people.

"Lisa," I whisper, pointing at the cedar slats of cabin door 32. "Go knock and see who answers."

"You do it," she hisses back.

"You know why I can't do that," I respond. I point to the window. "See, the lights are on inside. If they didn't know my face from the confession broadcast before, they certainly do now. There's no way they aren't replaying that." I turn to her and grasp her shoulder. "We're relying on you."

Lisa emerges from our hiding place and shakily makes her way up the porch to the cabin door and knocks timidly. "Excuse me?" she adds, speaking through the door.

The door creaks open and a graying woman in a wheelchair edges past the door and wheels herself a few feet onto the porch. She wears an intimidating expression, her presence dominates the airspace, and her unrelenting dark eyes never quaver as she waits for a shrinking Lisa to explain her appearance.

Lisa's twisting her hands behind her back, looking incredibly nervous, and rightfully so. "We're looking for an Aizawa Rika? Does she live here?"

The woman narrows her eyes, automatically suspicious. "Who sent you?" she asks slowly.

Lisa pales and looks back at me, afraid and unsure of what to do. I find the paranoid answer to be an affirmation that she is, in fact, Aizawa Rika. If she wasn't, she would have just said no and sent Lisa on her way.

My heart is pounding loudly in my ears. Right now, I'm completely hidden in a bush behind my grandmother's porch, but in a moment's time I will meet family. I feel equal parts excitement and apprehension pulse through my veins.

I stand up and it only takes a few seconds until I reach the porch. However, the moment I'm within her field of vision she does a 180 in her wheelchair and slams the door with a bang.

"I—wait—" I sputter to the unyielding wooden entryway.

I don't even know how to feel about this. I came all this way, but all I do is stand facing the closed door, rooted to the spot and stunned.