“White.”
Porter’s file, the last remaining thing of his life, was one word.
Figures. He was never a genius.
It’s the beginning of the third day. Thunder City is not yet on the horizon. But I know. I just do. We’re almost there.
“Pretty creepy shit, huh, Kell?” Epic Andrew says. Or Andrew. He’s just Andrew, really.
“It’s just gas,” I say. “That’s all.”
Andrew, the reader of the dusty old ghost stories in the city library, rolls his eyes.
“Sounds a lot like Herobrine, chief,” Andrew states. “What kind of gas woulda done this, huh?”
“Quartz.”
“Quartz is a block, not a fricking gas.”
“When it’s melted, it actually evaporates into a gas.” Fuck, I feel like such a nerd. “Ghast tears do the same thing.”
“Dude, who would evaporate quartz in the overworld?” Obviously, Andrew doesn’t think much of my explanation. “Or ghast tears? Come on.”
“Andrew, I built that thing. There is a plumbing system, so if someone accidentally dropped a ghast tear down a sink or something, it would have evaporated and infected all of them.” Andrew rolls his eyes. “And, two, it’s made out of quartz.”
“So you’re saying that the walls evaporated and made everyone go crazy. Right.”
I bite my cheek. I want to scream at him, for undermining me, his leader, but that’d do no good. Seth’s the only one who gets away with that.
There’s silence among all thirty of us until a tower appears on the distant horizon. Someone whoops, but the silence is frosty, unbearably so. My throat is dry. Great, so my crew hates each other. How am I supposed to make do with that, huh?
We stay at a shoddy hotel in East City - one of those ruddy places with cheap flower wallpaper and scratchy sheets, which I will proudly say was not me, and silently agree to start in the morning.
I do not sleep.
YOU ARE READING
The Hauntings of Thunder City (Hold :3)
HororI'm leaving this up for old time's sake, but it's pretty ruddy. Just a warning: involves Minecraft.
