The Fault in Our Infinities

Chapter 22: Faulted Eternity

"I'm not so afraid of it anymore." I say, kicking at an empty popcorn tub. It rolls across the concrete floor and hits the bin, the sound like a gunshot in the silence.

"Of what?"

"Of this." I spread my hands out, gesturing to the soundless, still theme park. The moon shines down on the attraction rides, but the shadowed effect isn't so scary anymore. For me, it's almost peaceful. I imagine the tall rollercoasters and Ferris wheel like guardians of the theme park, protective as opposed to threatening.

"You're starting to see the appeal." Augustus nods. "The serenity is what drew me here. It's comforting. There's no one bothering you; no stress. No worries."

"Except getting caught."

He smirks. "I've been here enough times to know that the security guard never shows up." He says in a low voice. "Personally, I think he's having an affair with one of the ride attendants. She showed up one night whilst he was on duty. He went with her and now he never comes back."

"Creepy." I laugh, just to diffuse the tension.

"He's okay, Hazel Grace." Augustus chuckles. "He just likes to spend his nights having his way with his girl than doing his job."

"Can you blame him?"

The flash of his white teeth shows in the dark as he grins. "If it means I get the park to myself…" He doesn't finish his sentence, only shrugs.

We wander in comfortable silence for a while. I stand on a small wall and balance my way across it, pretending I'm on a tight rope and that one misstep will lead to my death.

"You're wobbling a little." Gus points out, his hand outstretched to take mine if I stumble. He stares up at me, and even in the darkness I can see his blue eyes are bright with affection, drinking me in with the same reverence I feel for him. Augustus and I are more than a couple; we're best friends. That's the way it's supposed to be and I hope it will never change.

I stop suddenly, eyeing the attraction caged by the wall. A tall dark house looms, boarded up by planks of rotting wood and splattered with crimson liquid. Fake blood. The track runs through it, leading into a dark door; it looks ajar. "Gus," I say slowly, a smile curving at my lips. "How do you feel about Ghost Trains?"

"Ecstatic," he says sarcastically, rubbing the back of his neck. "No, really. Truly ecstatic."

"Do you want to go inside?"

"Go inside-" he stops. "Not really, Hazel Grace. Besides, it's locked."

"No, it isn't." I say, jumping off the wall. I drag my tank behind me, keeping my eyes fixed on the dark, looming house before me. "It's a bit of an inaccurate representation, don't you think? That when we die we'll become ghosts or ghouls or misguided, troubled spirits."

"I don't really think about it," he says, swallowing.

I glance at him, eyebrows raised. "You're nervous."

"I'm not particularly a fan of haunted houses, to be fair." He plasters a smile on his face, but his blue eyes shine with anxiety.

"I thought your only fear was oblivion."

He presses his lips together. "I'm not afraid of them, per se, I just…there's something about them that's unsettling."

I shrug and duck under the barriers. It's difficult to pull my tank under, especially when the tubes are almost invisible under the moonlight, but I manage, and I tug the tank onto the tracks, staring at the open door.

"I'm going in. Are you coming?" I look over at him. He stands on the other side of the barriers, staring at me with wide eyes. He runs a shaky hand through his tousled hair and shifts his weight from one foot to another uneasily. I only stare at him, waiting.