Overexposed

Lethal Cycle

Chapter 16: Lethal Cycle

"Haz?" I approach carefully, gauging his movements and expression with heightened sensitivity.

"Oh, hey," he looks at me over his shoulder, eyelids colored a light pink. He's holding back tears. Why? I can only assume it has something to do with whomever is buried beneath the wooden cross marked with the words "Basel Timorous."

A name? It sounds familiar, but I can't place where I've heard it before.

"Ready to go?" my companion clears his throat, giving the ground one more forlorn glance. What, you're not going to elucidate? Haz must see this inquiry in my expression because he forces a smile, "I thought we could go somewhere a little more private before I started to explain."

"No- yeah, that's fine," I idly kick at the ground to avoid look at him directly. "Any idea where?"

"I was thinking the harbor," Haz takes a breath before responding and steps away from the grave. I give him a small smile and a nod as he extends his hand towards me. I can see the desperation in his eyes so I lace our fingers and let him lead me away from the solitary white lily.

The easiest way to hear the story is probably keeping him happy, keeping him willing to talk and it's not like going to the harbor puts off any plans I'd had.

However, it's not just about information anymore. I want to know, but I'm also genuinely concerned that what happened probably seriously scarred him. Do I have any hope of fixing it or making it better? No, but I can try.

Our footsteps over the dying grass and the afternoon traffic noises are the only sounds playing between us as we reach Belladonna and after making sure I'm secure, Haz leads her gently into traffic, leaving the orphanage and a heavy, shoulder crushing weight behind.

It's strange to not have the helmet on, my blonde hair whipping across my cheeks freely, so I bury my face in his back, blocking the wind but also trying to comfort him. I can tell he's upset and I try to refrain from judging the situation because you know what Tommo says about assumptions...

And actually, I'm quite sure that, at least from my experience, he's right.

As soon as we reach the tunnel, there's a sinking feeling in my stomach. The artificial, orange lights surround us and I abruptly feel suffocated again.

To distract myself, I let my mind wander a bit and find myself remembering something odd. At the beginning of this whole mess, POGs brought me through here after knocking me out to keep the location of the warehouses secret. How long ago that seems! But what mystifies me is WHY he did it.

If POGs had left me in that alleyway, which would have been the logical thing to do, what would things be like now?

We reach open air again and I can't help but look back.

The "Welcome to Doublet" sign is still poised above the opening, the same as when I moved into the city almost seven years ago now, but someone has made a couple additions.