Deep End

Chapter nine

I barely had a moment with grass on my knees and golden light in my eyes and scuffed up palms before a body landed on mine. 

Pain. So much pain. I gasped, grabbing at my ribs. "Stop!"

The weight rolled off me and I sat panting the pain away for a moment before the world became visible again. When it had dulled enough to talk, I turned to Eric. He was watching the field around us with two closed eyes and a face full of interest. 

"What is wrong with you?" I demanded. "My rib is broken! You idiot!"

He swirled an index finger in his general face area. "Blind, remember?"

"Sure," I drawled. "This is fun. Can I have a turn? Kidnapped, remember? Drugged, remember? Broken-"

"Kamilla, please."

I don't know why I fell silent but I did. 

"We need to get away from the plane before it explodes. Can you help me up?"

"Why don't I just leave you here?"

"Because then you'll be lost, alone, severely uninformed, oh, and at danger of exploding at any minute."

"But at least I won't be kidnapped," I snapped, even while grabbing his hand. Even while knowing I sounded like a petty child. 

"Kamilla, do you feel kidnapped right now?" Eric stood, his one good foot buckling beneath him, the other sticking out at an unnatural angle. The sun threw his pained face in sharp relief, and behind him, the yellowed field stretched all the way to the pink-tinted horizon. 

"Let's just go." I chose a direction at random, and we began to move painfully slowly.

My rib was still in agony, but I could handle pain. Eric leaning on me like a crutch wasn't making anything better though. Anxiety pressed up through my skin, until I could have sworn it was heating up. No. No, I was not exploding right now. This was just good old, regular anxiety, and good old, regular paranoia. 

Boom. 

The world tore apart, a force hot as an oven and strong as a hurricane sending me and Eric sprawling across the grass like a plastic bag. His hand ripped from my shoulder, and then I was rolling alone, the ground scratching me and grabbing at me until it finally pulled me into a full stop. I looked up, heaving. The plane had exploded, just like Eric had said it would. A blazing wing fell off the flaming plane with the ear-shattering din of ripping metal. 

Bang. Boom. Crash. Boom. 

"KAMMILA!" 

I looked across the field blearily, shaking. There he was, laying a few hundred feet away from me in the grass. I crawled over to him, the was suddenly above him. 

"I'm okay."

"Let's go," he said hoarsely. 

His face was scratched and bleeding and covered in dried blood that caked every fold in his skin. He was afraid. He was desperate. 

"No."

"What?" Eric rasped. 

"No. Tell me why you kidnaped me. You said that I would be uninformed if I didn't help you. So inform me, Eric. What do you want from me?"

"Are you serious?"

The pink had grown in the sky, dusk beginning to tint to sunlight around us. 

"The plane exploded. We're not in immediate danger anymore. Tell me."

"Come on, Kamila, why do you care? It's not like your life got better since I last saw you. you probably still are switching from boyfriend to boyfriend and are hiding things from your mom and are rebellious and hate your community and sneak out of the city at every chance you get. What's to miss?"

I clenched my jaw. He wasn't wrong, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that. "I'm not moving till you talk."

Eric sighed. Hesitated. Then propped himself up on his elbows. "Okay. Okay. I work on a team that's doing a study and you were going to be our subject."

My blood turned to ice. "Keep talking."

"No."

"You-"

"Kamilla, we move, I talk. We need to find out where we are and some kind of shelter so we can get back to safety. If you want to just stay here, smelling the toxic exploded plane fumes, fine, but then neither of us will get what we want."

I pouted for a moment, glad he couldn't see my face, then guilty for the selfish thought a second later. "Fine."

I held out my hand, Eric stumbled to a standing, and we began limping toward the setting sun.