The World's Aftermath [ON MAJOR EDIT]

Chapter 17 [Cleo]

Every petal, branch, and leaves I lock my eyes on awaits with rustling whispers. And yet again, nothing of it is what I want to see. Everything is in order.  Above, right, left, and below, I blink and search for the source.  Endlessly, those eyes still seems to be set on me. Targeted on me. It feels real. But where? What or who is it?

A sudden crouch of someone's footsteps approach. I jump and my heartbeat pulses, out of my breath.

At first, the sight almost gives me a terrifying gasp, the body of a hulking giant. But, with one glance of a clearer profile, I let my breath out refreshingly,  only to realize it is none other than Eric himself.

I grin a relief excitement in response, "Did you–"

"Shh!" He whispers, an  index finger to his mouth, eyes wide–on the look out. As I shut my  mouth, the sudden confusion leaves my mind. 

So, Eric knows it too.

In the looks of his  concentrated face, it must've been a long while that he's practiced this  moment and the techniques. My hands are starting to cool down, the  pulsing: thud, thud, thud is slowing to remind me. It should not  go this way, I'm not the one who's the small girl, scared of the gloomy  darkness. Eric is controlling it, so should I.

Seconds later, we are already on the cue from one spot to the other. Moving slowly, but careful in every step.

"It's not a who," Eric says, expectedly. He gives me a side glance, the one to indicate that I should be listening.

"Of course," I start, sarcasm developing, "it must not be some invisible force covering whatever–whoever is watching us, crouching in the corner of this fine yard. Am I right?"

He turns over to walk to  other far side, where the darker shade is decorated with thick ivies,  thicker than any bushes or branches, saying a few words I can only  recall, "Funny you say that..."

Nearly stepping on a  fallen branch, I follow his gaze, wondering again, how in the world he gets all the super-powered senses? I mumble behind him, "Bodyguards, in  case you are in danger, they say."

Eric hears none of that, his obvious focus of finding the thing is intently more important than anything else right now. While I stand in the open grass, hesitating to follow him. The weather above is  saturating into the color of gray strokes. Clouds of darkness floats in the  sky as if bringing the pure sadness to life again and again. Day after  day when I look up, the sun is barely able to stroke even the tiniest  part of its light. Asphrone gets to be depressed, as usual.

"Bingo!" Triumphs Eric.  He's stacking within the dangling long ivies, crouching with an open  butt, bushes crowding his side. Like a madman.

"Bingo what? What did  you find?" I chirp, rushing to his side. I almost trip, reminding myself  of cautious in case Aunt Rosie decided to spy.

The hanging plants are  much to consider, it goes down as if drowning itself in a waterfall  motion from top to bottom, flapping back and forth with the wind. Half  the time, I can't see my own hands from the feathers of each vine,  only Eric's visible puff of black hair guides me to look closer of where  his gaze is heading. And the smell, a stronger scent of old soil and  leafy stench, filling up my nostrils in every direction.

Eric still seems to be  crouching, I mimic his position and look deep down, the ground covering  of deep sticks and little crunched up leaves. Then finally, I look down  to find an extraordinary sight.

— • —

Our eyes grow wide. A  black compartment—some kind of oddly shaped web-cam—lays helplessly on its broken side. Metal and electricity flashing within each other. Tiny, camera-like eyes in the middle of the five inch object blinking as if on the way to  its last breath, dying within the tangled vines and sharp bushes  slashing it from all directions. It starts shaking, Eric and I just  stand there in shock, looking at each other's eyes saying 'What do we do now?'