Of Caverns and Casters ✓ [TLRQ #1]

Chapter 8 - Sean

I can't fall asleep, and my fingers are jittering too much to type properly. I either keep hitting the wrong button or hitting the right button with the wrong rhythm.

The paper in my presswrite currently reads, 'Upo n noting that the ttpefier could mnot isdentify the substanceee, it wass testred by smell. The testtt yieldedd a dsharp scent, but wasstill unidentifiedd.'

Tomorrow, we test for the plague.

My fingers err again, and I smack the buttons with my palm. A string of nonsense letters clutter my paper. I set the machine aside.

I can't seem to concentrate. What if I made a mistake in telling her she should travel with me? I could be infected. And if that's the case, then I've killed her too.

I try to push the thought away. No. I'm not showing any symptoms, I never came in direct contact with the gore...

I tripped.

Schlick! My shoe was covered with the pus and blood from the child's side. The flies burst from the hole I created in her body.

No, no, no, no. I shouldn't think about it. I shouldn't worry about it. What's done is done, there's no going back. I just need to quit worrying, quit thinking about it. Worrying about things that can't be controlled has never done anyone any good. No, it's not going to do any good, it's not going to help anything—

I tripped.

Schlick! My shoe was covered with the pus and blood...

"Stop it!" I hiss. I cringe and cast a glance at Riveirre, hoping I haven't woken her. Unease tightens my throat at the idea. I don't know if I could handle an argument with her right now. I'm not sure what stupid things I would say if I had to.

I don't know if I'm going to be clear of the plague. I'm not sure what I can do if I'm not.

My shaky fingers bounce against my leg while I sit here. I want to pace, but this stupid cavern is too small to take more than a step or two without tripping over Riveirre.

I tripped.

Schlick! My shoe was covered with the pus and blood—

My eyes and fists clench tight, fingernails pressing hard into skin.

"Calm down!" It's out of my hands.

I drag a deep breath in through my nose. Raggedly release it through my barely parted lips. Repeat.

I open my hands, spreading my fingers across my leg. My eyelids relax.

'Everything will work out, sugar,' my mother's voice whispered. 'It always does, one way or another. Just breathe, Sean. In and out. In and out, sugar.'

In and out.