Save Yourself | Petekey | Danger Days

Eight - This Is How I Disappear

"Kobra said the next 36 hours are crucial. He has to get through it or he never will." Ghoul scrubbed at a dirty plate while a stream of water from the faucet hammered down on the other side. Poison had survived the night — a full 12 hours. Nobody slept, rather sacrificing rest for their friend. He had seized three times in those long, cold hours spent watching over him, and Kobra quickly tended to him each time. Otherwise, all was still. The only words exchanged between the group were either about Poison (which was rare. There seemed to be an unspoken rule between the four to not speak of the patient) or food. Jet, although he tried to hide it externally, had clearly been more affected than he cared to admit. He refused to leave the room except to cook frankly more food than the four of them could possibly eat, especially not until the state they were in.

Swallowing a handful of bread, Pete shot Ghoul a small smile that he hoped was comforting. "Yeah? Well, he's been doing good so far. And he's strong, Ghoul. He'll get through this."

"Yeah, of course he will," said Ghoul, trying to convince himself. "Of course he will be okay... right?"

"Yeah, 'course."

As Ghoul finished cleaning the dishes and Pete finished the last of the bread (and apologized profusely for it, to which Ghoul insisted it was fine), Kobra meandered into the room. The small kitchen fit the three of them just comfortably.

Leaning his back against the counter, Kobra let his hair fall in front of his eyes; but Pete didn't miss the red puffiness and start of dark circles staining the normally pale skin below. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and yawned.

"Hey, it's been a long night. You should get some sleep," Pete suggested, a wave of tiredness falling over him too.

Instantly and as if Pete had just told him to leap off a bridge, Kobra shook his head and flailed his arms. "No, I'm fine. Besides, I have to stay up. What if something happens to him? Wha—"

Placing a hand on his arm, Pete looked him in the eye and tried to calm him. "Kobra, hey, don't worry. He'll be fine. Jet can look after him for a bit. If anything changes, I'll come get you, I promise." He glanced back to see Ghoul nodding along.

For a second, Kobra looked like he wanted to argue, insist again that he was fine and needed there, although nothing had happened in hours and anything could easily be handled by Jet, but his strained eyes and clenched muscles must have convinced him otherwise, and he instead let his head fall, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes, and relented. "Fine. Yeah, you're right. I'll, uh, I'll be in my quarters. And don't worry about it, I'm sure Jet can deal with it." And he walked away.

When Kobra was out the door, Ghoul laughed. "Well that happened." Turning to face the voice, Pete asked for clarification. "He's usually so damn stubborn." Ghoul shrugged. "Must be the sleep deprivation."

"Or maybe I'm just awesome." Pete patted Ghoul's arm and strode off.

Halfway to the door, Pete heard Ghoul mutter, "yeah, right."

~~~

Pete banged the side of his phone against a nearby table, the two metals clanging against each other.

"Hey!" Jet scolded from under a car. "First of all, shut up. Second, what are you breaking?"

Tossing the dented phone on the same table he had assaulted only seconds earlier, Pete sunk into a plastic chair and rubbed his temples where a headache was beginning to form. "Nothing. Just trying to get this piece of junk to work." He gestured to the discarded device. "It's great and all that you guys found it in the desert, but it's dead. Completely useless. And besides, even if it had any battery, it'd probably overheat and shut down. Seriously, how do you guys even survive in this damn heat? Is there even any service here? I think I saw some cell towers a few miles away."

Laughing, Jet rolled out from under the car and wiped his brow with the back of his oil-covered arm. With a lug wrench in one hand and a towel in the other, he planted his feet on either side of the mechanic's creeper and leaned against the car door, heaving. His shirt clung to his chest, sweat acting as a glue. "Suck it up, buttercup." Pete rolled his eyes.

Shaking his head, Pete let out a dry laugh. "Whatever. Hey, wanna spar?" He jabbed at the air in front of him playfully.

"Can't." Jet disappeared beneath the car. "But you should try Kobra. He could use the distraction."

"Alright." Pete stood and walked back inside, leaving the useless phone, grateful to be in an air conditioned area for at least a little while.

Inside, hunched over a table, Ghoul was fiddling with a walkie-talkie and a screwdriver.

"You're all so handy here. I can't do any of this stuff like you guys can," Pete said, grabbing a spare screwdriver and twisting the tip into his palm. "You know where Kobra is?"

"Yeah, left a while ago. Not long after we talked." Not bothering to look up, Ghoul snatched the tool from Pete's hands and dropped it on the table beside him. Pete only grabbed it again. "Didn't you see him outside?"

"What? No. Nobody's left the diner."

"Well, clearly someone did, 'cause he's not here. I heard the motorcycle start and everything. Didn't say anything, but he's like that sometimes."

"But that doesn't... okay." Tossing the screwdriver back on the table, Pete waved off the confusion and decided he must have just missed him, so he went back outside and gave up on his search.

When Jet emerged from under the car and saw Pete perched atop the table in front of him again, he sighed and asked, "what are you doing back here?"

"I can't just want to hang out with my favourite... guy?" Jet's eyebrows shot up, an unamused look on his face. "Kobra left."

"He left? Where? When?"

Pete shrugged. "A while ago, Ghoul says. Don't know where."

"Well, not in any of our..." Jet looked around, cursed, sprang to his feet, and ran inside, leaving Pete standing, dumbfounded and alone, in the torrid entryway.

"What is up with everyone today?" He followed Jet inside to see him coming out of the hallway which led to the rooms, cursing every step of the way. Ghoul was in the back room with Poison, and came out giving Jet a thumbs up and shaking his head.

"Where the hell could he have gone?" Jet asked, his hands not finding a place to rest as he paced around the diner.

"Okay, let's think about this. I mean, his brother is here and he's refused to leave his side for even an hour. And now he just decides to up and leave? It doesn't make sense," said Ghoul, mirroring his pacing, but froze soon after. "Oh no, could he have been taken?"

Pete was out the door before he could hear a response.

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1,204 words
January 5, 2020
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