The Eden Projects (EDITING)

Chapter 9 Amends.

Kasper, hated the sky. 

The clouds drifted along lazily, at every hours head, he caught Zak staring at it. There was so much to that wide blue that they could never see. They were always waiting. Waiting for another downpour to put them further behind and keep them from reaching anything in a decent timeframe. To force them down, down, down, until their faces were buried in the muck and looking up made little sense. They were cut worms under a plow. Yet Kasper cursed it still. 

Zak set his band-less watch on the dashboard, its face pressed into the old vinyl that made up the top. Kasper's jacket, still wet, was flapping off the truck beds side. Held in place by a heavy pack. He, sat shirtless. Taking in the sun. 

...look...

That voice again. His eyes opened. I almost fell asleep.

...help...

Kasper muttered, something between a Stop and a go away. He reached, sliding the rear window closed, hoping they wouldn't notice. "Not right now." He whispered. 

"Hey- window stays open." Zak spun, throwing an arm behind himself, snapping the window back open again. "You alright?" 

 "Yeah, we're all good." He watched his veins spread about, streaking like convulsing snakes under his skin. Between him and it, he was constantly putting out fires. This thing that he carried was nothing more than clingy sibling that constantly wanted "in" on whatever he was doing. One step from a temper tantrum. But Kasper wanted out. Out of the truck, out of the group, out of whatever it was they were doing to burn the years up. Out. 

Get out of my head. 

They had driven most of the day and had reached the outer edges of Redside, the military capital. Or, that was what it had been. Now, it was a rubbled mess, crumpled into nothing more than a woodpile for Flickers to nest in like paper wasps. Feeding their larger cousins. Redside was a City turned to the worms and everything it was, was ground to dirt in their nasty guts. Another waypoint was painted on the ground ahead, they had gone far enough. 

"Let's make camp. Tomorrow we'll head in. Finally get this over with." Archer grumbled.

Zak agreed, and they pulled off the road. 

Kasper watched from the parked vehicle while they busied to set up camp. His gaze had found and fixed on the blinking red light at the Cities tallest point. Every Major City had a Tower. They were supposed to be Ark's symbol of hope, a beacon for the future. Now, it blinked on. Probably because when it all collapsed, no one bothered to stop it. It did nothing for hope. It did nothing for anyone. It only blinked. An unmanned lighthouse unwavering in the tempest and much too far from shore to do any good.

But still, they were insects drawn to its sweltering light like flies. Perpetual darkness had a habit of drawing out desperation in the best of people. None of them fell in that category. 

Between the three of them, there was one common ground. One place they all stood at equal footing. They all wanted hope. They could never have it. It was an idea without realities backing. Before long, night had found them. Kasper stayed up, he took watch as he often did. 

He drew a breath, another, another, and walked the camps edge. Down the road, up the road, and any way he could find that the crack-top cement would lead. Dredging up something like courage, the courage to leave and finally give Zak the freedom he so desperately wanted. But all he found was bitter selfishness. Warring with his want for purpose. "I can't do this." He turned back, turned around, then doubled again. I can't do it. He tiptoed through their camp, found Zak's bag, and pulled out the pouch that held his stash. I need to disappear, just for a bit.