Underground

21

Estelle
The guy's introduction was short. "It's Brett, thank me later."
Then he threw me his jacket.
I put it on, the warmth making me want to cry.
"Logan wants to see you."
I look up at him, he was itching his stubble.
Our eyes meet, and his stare, unlike August's, made my stomach churn, in a bad unsettling way.
"I don't want to see Logan." I murmur.
He sighs crossing his arms. "It's not like you have anyone else here for you, from what I've heard you have like three friends."
Before I can even think, I stand up and slap him as hard as I can across the face.
He yelps, cupping his reddened cheek.
I smirk in satisfaction, turning around starting to walk.
"I'm supposed to help you." He says, rubbing his cheek.
I turn on my heel. "Too late, I'm helping myself."
***
The trek back to the road took longer than I wanted it to. But once I had emerged from the woods, a bunch of white flakes were falling from the sky.
"E!" August yells, popping out of his car, pulling me into a tight hug, making my skin cells shriek.
Another car door slams, and I see Jackson and a middle-aged woman get out.
The woman grabs a few things from the backseat, but Jackson sprints toward me.
"Are you okay?" Jackson asks, once he reaches us.
I nod softly, trying to warm myself up.
The woman comes down with a thermos, which was steaming from the top.
"Here ya go darling." She says, handing me the thermos.
I open it and chug the hot chocolate on the inside.
Ned pops out of the car, running down to our flock of people.
My legs feel weak from the cold, trembling and ready to give out.
"Let's get you in the car." August says, ready to hoist me over his shoulder.
I look back quickly, seeing Logan and Brett emerge from the forest.
"Estelle!" She yells, her eyes locking to mine.
Just to be petty, I turn around making my slightly wet hair swish.
***
Soon enough, I was in August's backseat of August's car. The heater turned up all the way.
I can almost feel my toes.
August and Ned were talking quietly in the front seat, the sound of Ed Sheeran coming softly from the radio.
I look out the window, a thin layer of snow covering the grassy ground surrounding the highway.
I feel weary, my eyelids wishing to meet their pair, but I refuse to sleep until I'm safe at home, well, August's home and my makeshift home.
August turns and gives me a small smile before turning all his attention back to the road.
I shrug Brett's fleece off my shoulders, and chug the powdery end of the hot chocolate before, looking outside again.
"What day is it?" I ask, looking up.
"December 19th." Ned says. "6 days 'til Christmas."
"What's Christmas?" I ask.
"If you're religious, Jesus was born, if not, free stuff." Ned explains.
I just shrug and look out the window, letting the sight of snow cure my boredom.
***
Once we got to August's house, Ned bids his farewells and leaves.
August takes it upon himself to carry me to the couch, even though I have two perfectly working legs. He grabs the fuzziest blanket and cranks on the electric fireplace.
"Right now, I just want you to relax, even if it means showing extreme emotion, I want you to relax." August says, tossing the fuzzy blanket onto my lap.
I just look up at him with big doe eyes.
"I'll be right back." He says, leaning over and placing a kiss on my head before walking out of the room.
I wrap myself in the fuzzy blanket, staring blankly at the fire flickering in a looping pattern.
After a few minutes August re-enters the room, handing me a sweatshirt and some sweatpants.
I give him a nod, before pulling the new clothes over my wrecked ones.
I flop down onto the couch, August sinking into the comfortable plush.
We sit there in an oddly comfortable uncomfortable silence for a minute, our hands close, our eye contact never faltering.
"Tell me a story." He says, breaking the eye contact to look at the fire.
"Aug, I've already told you my life story." I responds, picking at my fingernails.
"I don't wanna hear your life story." He says, nudging my hand slightly, before pulling away like it was a mistake, maybe it was. "Just let the words fall."
I yawn. "I don't know if I can do that."
"Everyone can, trust me." He says, flashing me one of his infamous smiles.
I roll my eyes, pulling the blanket up to my chin. "How about you tell me a story."
"I already did." He says.
"Your life story doesn't count either." I say softly.
He chuckles softly. "I tell stories for a living, remember?"
"Oh yeah." I say, thinking back to the 3 novels of his I've read.
"What happened back at the labs?" He asks softly, as if his voice was stepping on thin ice.
I look up at him. "Hell."
"Like how?" He asks. "Your brain won't get better until you go to therapy, and I'll just help."
"Well, they locked me in a chamber of water." I start, smiling at the distant terrible memories. "They implanted nightmares in my mind to make me go crazy, and they experimented on my blood, made me watch you, Jackson, Nigel, Jane, and Nigel die countless times. I had to give into the experiments, and let them test me and burn my skin, and test if I could stand this or that or whatever terrible thing that they could do." I explain.
It wasn't until August wipes my face with his thumb that I realize I'm crying.
I try to pull away, look strong, or just stop crying.
"It's okay to cry." August says into my hair, holding me tightly.
So I do, I cry into his wooly sweater until I fall asleep.