Hatchetfield.

Wild Blue Yonder

There was a thundering in his head, one that was caused from the fact his fingernails were pressing deep into his scalp. Dead. What was going on outside, it meant they were dead. They hadn't just been singing, they'd been dead. To think he could've been one of them if he'd have taken a different route...that was not an easy thing to face.

Peter Spankoffski turned sixteen years old today, October 13th 2018. It was a Saturday, and was supposed to stay at home with his older brother, and they were going to watch Star Wars. It was the one day Ted promised him he'd make sure that he'd get off, and Pete had been foolish enough to believe him. He'd been foolish enough to think that things would finally go his way. Innocent. Naïve. Stupid. That morning, Ted had told him that because Paul Matthews had fucked up on his statistical analysis again, it meant Ted had to go back into work to help lift the burdened weight Paul had left behind. That meant that Peter had been left alone to celebrate his birthday. Alone, again. He'd have asked Richie and Ruth, but he knew they both had events going on at school, something to do with band practise? Pete could hardly remember now he knew the world was coming to an end.

Ted, as an apology, had given him some extra cash. He'd told Pete to treat himself to something that wasn't Beanie's shitty hot chocolate that the crabby barista most definitely spat in. He had thought, as he had exited Starbucks that morning, that he could call it luck, or maybe it was just his perspective. He'd been naïve to think he was lucky, to think things would turn out the way they did. No. He, Peter Spankoffski was the most unlucky guy on earth. He could call it luck, about the fact that he'd ended up at Starbucks, but his life sucked. So, yeah, he'd been lucky in the fact that he'd gotten to go to Starbucks, but he wasn't lucky in the sense that the world was coming to an end.

A musical apocalypse raged outside of the walls of Henry Hidgens' mansion. It was a blur, how he ended up there. He'd left Starbucks, he'd been pulled into an alley by his older brother who had told him to keep quiet. Violently at that, actually, but in his hasty reflection, he could see why Ted was so determined for him to shut up. Charlotte had called the HFPD, Ted had knocked Sam out and his brain had been blue. Then, Sam and Charlotte had come down into the basement, into their safe space, and Hidgens had murdered them.

Dead. They'd been singing, but they were dead, and had Pete gone to Beanie's that morning, then he'd have been dead too.

How the hell was he supposed to process that?

Not well, apparently, for the next thing Peter could remember was pressure on his shoulders and his brother down by his ear. "They were dead." He'd managed to force out.

"I know they were, I know." Ted said.

"They were dead, and they were singing, and the singing started in Beanie's and if I had gone to Beanie's, I coulda died-"

"But you didn't. You took that fifteen bucks, ya went to Starbucks and you didn't die. Petey, you're not dyin' today. I won't fuckin' let ya.

"But I coulda-!"

"Hey." Ted gently cupped his face, making his little brother face him. "You didn't die, and you're not going to. You know why? Cuz you're here with me, and I will do whatever it takes to protect you because we are getting off this island one way or another. If we have to steal a fuckin' boat from The Boating Soc, then that's what we'll do! I mean, what the fuck is Linda Monroe gonna do? Kill us? Fuckin' hell, Pete, she's probably gone as well so we'll be fine-"

Pete looked into his brother's eyes, or did his best at an attempt to do so, asking one particular question. "We thought Charlotte was fine. What if...what if she was infected when we were already in here? What if she was infected when we came in, and what if everyone else is infected? Are we the only ones alive?" Tears slipped from his brown eyes. He did his best to ignore the gentle pressure on his face as Ted brushed them away. "What about other people who could be trapped on the island? What about-what about Ruth?! Or Richie? And Steph?! Is Steph alive?!"