Unfound

his name is zack

Zack couldn't sleep at first, but eventually he drifted off. He was dressed for the occasion after all.

James woke him unintentionally as he rummaged around in a cupboard. Zack yawned and rubbed his eyes.

"What time is it?"

He sat up on the sofa and pushed the blanket aside. Outside it was just as dark as it had been the previous night.

"Breakfast time." James replied over his shoulder.

"Doesn't look like the morning to me." Zack said doubtfully.

"Nope. But it is." James had put together some delicious-looking waffles and maple syrup from that cupboard somehow, Zack noted.

"How does that work?" Zack asked.

"Well, I just reach in here and-"

"No, not that," Zack said, chuckling. James just stood with a forkful of waffle suspended midway between the plate and his mouth. "I mean, that was pretty cool but what I meant was how come it's still dark outside?"

"Oh!" James shovelled away the food on his fork and swallowed. "It's always like that here. We don't know what it is and ain't never made an attempt to find out. We studied where it cuts across our piece of Brooklyn a couple times but," he shrugged to signify that they hadn't found anything of interest.

This was strange to Zack because he felt that if he was stranded here like these two men, then he'd be a lot more curious about the force that seemed to keep them enclosed here. The mysterious black veil that formed a dome of sorts over them.

He re-opened the cupboard door and threw the empty plate inside carelessly. "You hungry, Zack?"

"No. thanks for offering though." Zack answered. He would've eaten, but that wooden cupboard unsettled him, so he politely declined.

The door to Howard's bedroom popped open and the old man emerged. He was dressed the same as yesterday, as was James.

James thanked Howard amicably and clapped him on the back as he went into the bathroom that Howard had evidently been using.

"Morning little fella." He said to Zack.

"Morning, Howard."

Howard hooked his thumbs into his front pockets and rocked on his heels, whistling.

"What song are you whistling?"

Howard seemed startled as he came out of his daze.

"You don't recognise it?" His jaw dropped with astonishment. "Only 'El Paso' by Marty Robbins, the greatest country singer of all time." He tutted, "what are they teaching you kids these days?"

"I don't really listen to country music." Zack asked him another question quickly, to save having to pull him back out of his daydreams. "What do you guys do on a day to day basis here? How come you were in the bar when I got here?"

"I can see why you might ask that. I suggested when we first got here that we should have some kind of routine, for the sake of our sanity if nothing else. So, every day I stand at the bar, just like old times. James splits his time between the bar with me and smoking that funny stuff here."

Zack shivered at the thought of Howard standing behind that bar for hours on end with only skeletons and cobwebs for company.

"About the weed, how come we can't see it?"

Howard coughed. "Why would we need to see it?"

Zack had expected a lengthier answer or perhaps an 'I don't know'. After short consideration, Zack could only shrug back at Howard as he realised he couldn't actually come up with an answer.

There was the sound of a toilet flushing and shortly after, James emerged and they were a trio once again.

"Come on Zack, get your lazy ass up off the couch. We got a tough day of drinking ahead of us." James said.

Zack grinned at him and got to his feet.

They exited the building and made their way back to the bar slowly. James and Zack walked side by side, while Howard walked slightly ahead with a set of keys jangling in his hand.

"So, I think we get nice and drunk today, then come up with a plan of action." James said.

"Plan of action? What do you mean?"

"I guess we figure out how we get outta here somehow, I don't know man. We'll figure somethin' out with a few whiskys in us."

Zack couldn't think about alcohol for too long because it brought back unwelcome memories of his sorrowful evenings getting plastered. It was all too raw.

"You know. I don't think I regret what I did."

"What do you mean, bro?"

Oh no. Did I just say that? Zack decided to continue instead of awkwardly withdrawing his outward thinking. And besides, James was his friend, right?

"Erm, well. I've been thinking about what I did and stuff. I guess saying I don't regret committing suicide is the wrong way to put it." He got his words in order. "What I mean is that the worst part of it isn't that I died, it's that I never got to say a proper goodbye to anyone."

Yeah, that's about right I think. Although, Talia is the one that matters, Zack inwardly concluded.

"That's the one thing that hurts me the most and I've seen that it hurt my sister as well. I'd give anything just to talk to her one last time, after that I wouldn't care."

Zack was wary that he had been speaking for a while and noticed Howard tilt his head to listen in halfway through. He started to feel embarrassed until James spoke.

"Nah, I understand you on that one, brother. I think I'd be the same if I were you." He said, voice full of understanding. He couldn't have known how much it meant to Zack.

They stopped outside the entrance to Howard's bar and stood under the street-lights as he singled out the correct key.

Zack stole glances at his two companions as they waited. Finally, he plucked up some courage.

"This might seem like a dumb question. But we're friends, right?"

The two men laughed and Howard spoke, eyes full of amusement. "Of course we are. Although, we're not exactly spoiled for choice out here, Jack."

James pounced. "Jeez, Howie. We're all friendly for sure, but I don't know how long that's gonna last if you keep callin' him Jack instead of Zack." James gave Zack's bicep a friendly squeeze, while Howard looked on. "And I reckon he's got a mean right hook on him."

James and Zack laughed while Howard offered his profuse apologies.

"Just open her up man, I'm thirsty!" James instructed his elderly friend, who did so once he was certain Zack had accepted his apology.

Twisting the key in the lock, Howard pushed the door open. However, instead of proceeding any further, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Howie? What's up?" James asked, but Howard didn't respond.

Zack craned his neck around both of them to see what was holding Howard up and his heart nearly stopped in his chest for good.

There, facing them from the gloom of Howard's bar, stood a figure that Zack had already spent too much time with than he wanted to.

Around it's feet, a puddle had collected and again it's jaw hung low. It's serpentine scales were plain to see and the claws of it's feet had dug holes into the wooden floor with ease.

The Stranger stood before them and uttered a deep, resonating click that seemed to vibrate through Zack's chest.

"Hello, Wanderers." It said.