the way home ⠀ ོ

001

Pain flared across her palm, warm blood seeping from the cut as she wrapped her fingers around the cold metal of the oar. She swung it through the air, feeling it jolt to a stop as it contacted the Clicker's face. Bits of fungi flew off along with a tooth, but the thing barely missed a step. A scream emanated from its throat as it pulled itself over the edge of the boat, hands reaching out, clawing at the air to reach for her.

Abby slipped off the bench, pain flaring up her back when her tailbone struck the metal floor. It didn't slow her down though and she quickly brought the oar up again, thrusting it forward. The hollow metal end pierced the Clicker just below the clavicle and it let out an ear piercing screech. Ragged hands with fingers missing, replaced by buds of more fungi and bits of yellowed bone, reached out for her, grabbing two handfuls of her shirt. It pulled itself closer, the metal digging in deeper to its flesh as its jaws snapped opened, closed, open, closed. Thick saliva dripped from the brittle and cracked teeth, nearly at her neck when it's infected body spasmed in pain.

It was enough time to get her legs under, kicking it away with what little strength she had left. It staggered, still stunned by whatever had hit it. There was no time for it to recover either as the board struck it again, and again. The boy standing at the front of the boat didn't let up, striking the head again.

Abby winced as she pulled herself to her feet, seizing the metal oar protruding from its body and ripping it from the desiccated flesh. She tore it free, the creature writhing until she brought it down on the depressions where eyes had once been, stabbing it through the skull. A deep shudder ran through its body, limbs flailing weakly before stilling.

Lev let out a breath that was half whimper, falling back onto the sandy beach. The piece of driftwood fell from his hands.

"Lev?" Abby called out, her voice barely there. After quick look over her body, confirming she hadn't been bitten or scratched, she climbed over the edge of the boat onto shore. Her whole body protested and her footing gave out in the thick sand. She stumbled, barely catching herself.

"Lev? You okay?" she called out again, forcing the words to be a little louder than the hoarse whisper as she crawled the rest of the way to him. She stopped, setting a hand against his scarred cheek.

His eyelids fluttered, a shaking breath passing between chapped lips as his dark eyes slowly opened. "...Abby?" he murmured, struggling to keep his eyes focused.

"Right here," she said quietly, looking over the kid for any sign of a bite, breathing a sigh of relief when she found none. She swallowed, her throat aching as she turned back to him. She forced a small smile. "You just saved my ass."

The young boy's gaze lingered on Abby's for a long moment, not saying anything. "Huh," was all he could manage before his eyes rolled back, heavy lids closing. His breathing, though struggling and shallow, became even.

Abby sat back on the sand, hand slipping away from him as she looked around. Early morning mist still hung heavy over the stilled water, birds chirping loudly from the palms and shrubs that clustered on the cliffs. The air was already warm, stuffy. It would be another sweltering day.

She felt her chest tighten as she looked at the shore. She knew she should feel something. A sense of freedom, relief maybe. But she was hollowed out. There wasn't anything left.

She could stay here, she thought. Let the tide come and go and wash her away with the rest of the garbage and driftwood. How easy would it be to just let go? To let the sea take her?

Usually she would push those thoughts away, burry them, shove them so deeply down they would never once see the light of day. But for a moment, she let herself drown in them. She wanted to go back to the Aquarium, back to the room where the warm light and laughter spilled out, where her friends were all alive and well. Where Owen...

A pain raced down her arm, her chest, and she bit back a groan. That girl had taken it all away. Her friends. Her family.

Except there was no hate left to those thoughts, just a simple acknowledgement of facts. Like saying the sky was blue, there was no feeling either which way. It was just the way things were.

There was nothing more to feel.

She looked to the unconscious form lying next to her and made herself move. Made herself survey the beach for any sign of life other than them. Nothing but the birds and occasional rustle of leaves as one of them took off. The clicker must've been on its own.

A steady breathe, then another. One step at a time. She made herself crawl to the water's edge, the salt water stinging as she moved deeper into its depths. Her eyes closed tightly and her breath hissed between her teeth, but there wasn't any tears that came as she carefully, methodically, began to wash the dried blood from her arms. Cuts marred the pale sunburnt skin; she could almost see herself unwinding, coming undone in tatters like a character in an old cartoon. The salt water stung, clouds of a dull red forming in the water as some of the weakly formed scabs came away under her hands.

She took another step, farther from the shore, letting it come up to her waist before she bent over and carefully cleaned the cut on her cheek. Her hair was clumped with dirt and blood and sweat; the short blonde spikes neglected for so long. She cleaned it, let it all wash away, taking her time so as to purposefully avoid looking at the wound in her shoulder. She knew it had to be bad, the dull aching heat that seemed to radiate all over her body coming from it. Finally, she made herself turn to it, moving the thin fabric of her top aside and looking at the deep gash.

She grit her teeth as she gingerly touched the swollen skin around it. She could still feel the knife, the searing hot of the metal as it dug into her flesh.

There was little she could do for it here. Moving on auto pilot, she waded back to the boat. She tried to get the motor running again but knew before she had even started that it was no use. It had been running on fumes for a while now.

She gave up, instead grabbing the shore anchor from where it had been nestled in the bow. She double checked that the rope was secure before stepping onto shore. She pulled it as far in as she could, despite her withered muscles and exhausted body protesting. Once she was satisfied it wouldn't drift out she buried the anchor deeply into the sand and headed back to Lev. His weight was nothing as she picked him up, his body just skin and bones.

Time was inconsequential, the sound of her steps muffled by the warm sand sifting underfoot. Minutes? Hours? It felt like an eternity and yet no time at all before she stumbled upon an abandoned lifeguard stand. The door hung ajar, nothing but shadow inside. Aged wood creaked under foot, flecks of chipping white paint coming off as she carried him up the short flight of narrow stairs. There was nothing inside. An old forgotten rescue tube, some molded towels bunched in the corner...

Abby was gentle as she set the boy down against the far wall, grabbing one of the towels and setting it beneath his head.

"I have to get fuel," she told him, expecting no reply. She bit her lip, looking out the dirty window at the blue sky outside. She set a hand on his bony shoulder. "Look. If I'm not back by tomorrow morning..."

Her words trailed with uncertainty. She offered a small smile instead, which quickly faltered as she pulled away.       

She closed the door, secured it the best she could, and headed down the short flight of steps and back onto the beach. She had to be back by then. With a twist in her gut that hurt more than the girl's knife digging into her flesh, she knew for certain that if she didn't come back Lev wouldn't be around come morning.

He didn't have long, and how weak she felt she knew neither did she. Willing her broken and withered body to move she made her way to the shore. Just a little farther.

Just a little more to go.