Stability (by D&N)

Ch.15-Jada

As soon as the words fell from Angelina's lips like droplets of rain, my heart dropped, tumbling through all of my insides. It was stupid and wise at the same time: to go out so soon to acquire more provisions after the traumatic experience last time was utterly unreasonable. But, it was our most logical option if we wanted to survive. My countenance clear and collected, my brain screamed and begged for my mouth to say something-- anything – countering Angelina's proposition. I spread a tight grin over my face as I easily painted on a smile. My fingers began to sparkle with anticipation and anxiety and my knees buckled. I tried my best to appear calm to my best friend, no doubt failing in that. I inhaled a strengthening breath of the stale, muggy air, only serving to stifle my lungs. The air reeked and was thick, sort of humid. I noticed how suffocating my shirt was, sticking to my skin like saran wrap, and I itched to take a shower. The whole atmosphere was stagnant and hardly bearable.

When Angelina walked away, after mentioning the plan to raid the local Savemart, less than a five minute walk from our base, I watched her feet gently prod her over to Shamar. I admired our two leaders from afar, in a hazy daze. Without those two, we probably wouldn't have gotten this far. Without them, I would've been devoured by those horrendous creatures, just like some of our other peers. I don't deserve to be so lucky.

I glared down at the cold chicken sandwich in my hand, now lukewarm from resting outside of a fridge for the past few hours. I only managed to nibble a few insignificant crumbles off of the edges. My hands slowly became sticky with sweat as I peered down at the meal. My appetite had already been stolen, thanks to the distinct odor emanating from the rotting bodies scattered around us. I cautiously wrapped the large, remaining chunk of sandwich in a napkin I saw fluttering across the roof and tucked it in one of the pockets of the backpacks. Angelina didn't need to know. I ignored the growls from my stomach and punched my gut, trying to quiet the irritating urges. I squeezed my waist with my thumbs, digging them further and further into my abdomen until the grumbles ceased.

I stood up and shuffled over to Angelina, asking if she needed anything to be done to help prepare the team for the upcoming expedition. She was blushing, a glorious shade of pink swarming her cheeks like a fuchsia storm. To her right was Michael F, undoubtedly making her smile. Michael just had that effect on her, removing layer upon layer of worry from her back and allowing her pure rest. I silently reached down behind her, offering a smile to Michael and Danika, who was hiding her lips with the sleeve of her sweater.

"Hey. Do you need help with anything right now?" I looped my arms around Angelina's waist from behind her. Her head spun around, confused on who grabbed her.

"Oh. Hey. Did you eat?" Her eyebrows furrowed into a stern expression and the red that had engulfed her cheeks slipped away and blended back into her normal, mahogany skin tone.

"Yeah." I lied. Surprisingly, no worried inclination gave away my dishonesty and I customarily grinned at her. "Thanks, again for it."

"Of course, babe." Her eyes let loose their hold on me and she glanced back at Danika. She slid out of my embrace and rested her arm on my bicep. "I could use your help gathering all the people on Team Kill Squad and sending them in Shamar's direction so we can all meet up and discuss the Savemart trip." She delightedly beamed a truly pleasant smile. Man, Michael could work miracles on this girl.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. I can do that. Remind me again who's on 'Team Kill Squad?'" The words felt clumsy on my tongue, like they were silly. Team Kill Squad?? Seriously, it sounds like a team name out of a video game. Maybe that's how my surviving peers coped with everything: battle it with humor. I've learned that humor can be your best weapon, or your worst.

"Yeah. If I remember right," Angelina began to list off the members of the adventurous team. "Roberto, Brandon, Logan, Josie, me, Shamar, Michael..." She looked over her shoulder at Michael, who I managed to glimpse at just as he straightened his posture, trying to appear brave. He puffed his chest and strained his jaw, his eyes burrowing into everything and taking it into account. His eyes were fierce and ferocious. Sometimes, they could be delicate and soft, especially when he was looking over Angelina. However, I've seen a few times where Michael's eyes weren't so tender. They would completely transform into obsidian arrowheads, sharp and dangerous, dripping with malicious venom.