Fever Dream Red

8

The plan stormed on ahead, with pretty much only Matt's and Skye's input.

It was strange to think that out of all the adults there, Matt only trusted a teenager to figure everything out with him. But then, Skye was always smart.

Not that much smarter than me, though.

As Skye said, we waited for a week until things had seemed to calm down in Albermis. That morning we got up early. Still dark in summer early.

My alarm sounded like an annoying mechanical bird.

I got changed quickly, got ready, and packed my suitcase. I then looked around at my room I had inhabited for most of my life.

I would never be returning again.

It was strange and melancholy, but I pushed those ideas to the back of my mind, where they wouldn't wrench my heart in the way that they did.

When I was younger, I had dreamed of escaping, romanticizing it in my mind so many times over that my dreams of it and its actuality were two completely different things. It was a lot like a crush.

Now I looked around it, partly glad to leave its faded red walls and scratchy carpet, and, in turn, Gloomy Cay. How I hated it's lingering presence.

That was the scariest part of all of it: knowing the island was watching whatever you did. Everything, your graces and your sins, were observed. Then it struck, cursing the world just to watch it burn. Maybe this had been it's biggest strike of all.

I was partly hopeful that all of this would end well. We could find somewhere to settle and live out the rest of our lives in harmony. Maybe I could meet someone, another straggler who had survived against the odds. It's not like they would have much other choice besides me.

I was also leaving a part of me in Gloomy Cay. The absence of familiarity permanently scared me. I knew I would miss those eyes watching me all the time. Maybe they would miss me too.

I wondered out to the kitchen, not bumping into anyone else on my way. That was fine. I didn't really like people anyway. I didn't think extroverts existed; they were simple myths created by insecure people who craved opinions about themselves.

I was sat there eating my toast with great globs of golden butter on when the door burst open. Zack rolled in, his face groggy and weak with tiredness.

He wasn't bothered about talking with me as he just lifted a hand up in a pathetic attempt at a wave. I could relate.

I hadn't actually seen Zack in ages. I'd seen him wondering around a bit, but I had mostly kept to the beach. I sat there for hours at a time, listening to music on my headphones and gazing out at the abyss. It was heavenly.

Zack put his bread in the toaster and awkwardly stood there, waiting for it to pop up like a brilliant Jack-in-the-box.

"How's it going?" Zack asked me, making me jump even though I knew the sentence was arriving, like when you put your headphones on and are shocked by the sound.

"Okay. I mean, it's not going that great. End of the world and all that."
Zack smirked at that. "I get you."
"How are you anyway?"
"Sleepy." He giggled. I don't know why. It wasn't in the least bit funny.

Pause.

"I'm terrified."

His smile drops and a solemn look takes control of his face. His features now seem pale, almost sickly yellow like Eli's.

"We'll be okay, won't we?"

Zack looked at me with real fear in his eyes. The world was ending. The power between everything had shifted. The finity of things had become drastically clear.

And Zack was looking at me as if he wanted me to say we'd be okay. He needed me to say we would be okay. He really was looking for reassurance wherever he could find it.

I wasn't a liar.

"I don't know." I shrugged, matching his tone. I expect my face had suddenly dropped too, lost in a pool of helplessness, the vague features of my identity floating in the black sea like life rafts.

"Shouldn't I be asking that?" I asked the adult, smiling slightly. I needed to lighten the situation. I couldn't wade in the sea for much longer. It was getting deeper.

"I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if mine and Skye's brains got switched around or something. I always feel... dumb next to them."

"I always felt like that in school." I catched his eyes. "Just dumb in general, even though I knew I was smart. People would always ask me the answers. They always copied the answers off of me. I didn't know why, because I had no idea if what I had put down was actually right. I just knew it was something. Everyone always used to make out as if I was smart. The older I got, the less clever I felt I was."

"I expect that's what Skye must feel." Zack laughed.
"Skye is the smart one."

I laughed with him. In that moment, me and him basked in the brief relief of the situation. It took our minds away from what was going on. The deaths outside our doorstep. We were willfully blind. Isn't that what humans always are?

Ding!

Me and him both jumped as the brilliant Jack-in-the-box pulled through. We laughed harder. Eventually we stopped.

He buttered his toast and started eating it, sitting opposite me.

"Y'know what really is funny?" I told him.
"What?"
"Nothing we said was actually that funny."
"Good point."
"Why were we laughing?"
"I don't know."

Then Lily came in. She carried a shoulder bag. It probably had her knitting in, but I couldn't help imagining a cadaver slowly rotting in it. I don't know.

Killers always carry shoulder bags.

She looked at us both, wondering if we were insane, probably. She put her toast in. That toaster had had a lot of demand that morning. It was a shame we couldn't bring it with us.

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Thanks to dojacant for doing so. It is appreciated :)