The Eden Projects (EDITING)

Chapter 8. Boogeyman.

Kasper was dreaming.

He had to be.

He'd lived through this. Sure. But it was here again, and living through the nightmare was all he could think about. So he waited. He waited for the shouting to stop, for the pattering of his heart to slow its racing, and for fresh air to rid him of that scent. Kasper was suspended between moments, he had lost his own corporeality. Listening as things went on around him. His old life, the one before the end. Mundane sounds. Sliding chairs and baggies sealing with soft "zips," signifying transitions he could no longer take part in. Cups toppling and cabinets clacking, laughter, the noise of youthful chaos. 

Trash rummaging... 

and screaming. 

Himself, and all the ones he left there, there was no escape. 

"You left us" They'd say, they always did. It's not real. It's only ghosts. But there it all was, like some whispered truth burned into the world, deliciously cruel. if only he could open his eyes to see it.

Something shook him.

His face burned.

And he heard the footfalls of a familiar giant.

He opened his eyes.

Archer's angry face crowded into it. "Wake up-" He had one hand drawn back into a ball. His lip was swollen to one side, and the dry dye of blood hung under his nose.

Kasper was woozy. He had vomited at some point. The taste of it clung to his teeth and tongue. He moved ever so gently.

"Shh..." He threw a hand over Kasper's mouth right before he formed a word and flicked the light off. Pointing quickly to his own eyes. "Rubies."

"Here?" Kasper whispered and rubbed away the pain in his chest. His own breath bounced off Archer's hand and returned to him with an acidic scent.

Archer let go and nodded, handing him his gun. Tucking the flash light back into his belt. They had a code. If there was danger, regardless of who you were, you deserved a fighting chance. He motioned that there were at least three, moving at the outskirts of the camp.

Kasper understood.

They were in trouble.

"Stay low." Archer whispered and crouched against the wall of whatever building they were next to.

This wasn't where he had sat.

He had moved.

"They heard your shot."

"I shot?"

"Yeah. You shot." 

I'm awake. The feeling of the drenched bricks settled into his fingertips. Archer was already making his way ahead, covered in dirt and mud; bits of leaves had stuck to the back of his shirt. Did he fall?  Did I do it?

"We need to make a run for the room without being seen. We can hold up there." Archer checked his gun.

So did Kasper. 

He was down one bullet and racked the slide, just in case.

With a brain more than frazzled he worked at trying to pull himself together again. "Where are we?" Kasper asked. Adjusting one of his bootlaces that had come undone.

Archer rose to stand, staying close to the wall. "Backside of the office building. The room is that way." He gestured to the right. "We heard your shot before you ran off."