yesterday made me a fool today [nell day 5]

tw: death!





“I won’t give in,” Dusty says. Her voice trembles. Quivers like guitar strings. She is so brave. So, so brave, even when she’s scared. When the odds stack against her. When hope should be hidden.

It’s the last thing I remember her saying. The final words I hear before I flee. Before I leave her in the dust.

Now I stand with a hand on her spacesuit. Darkness fills the air. It is still. Silent. Like just before dawn. Before the animals stir and life begins again. Before the birds take their claim on the skies back from the stars. I can’t see her name on the label, SPARKS across where her heart would drum, but it’s hers. I know. I smell her like a summer storm.

My wrist rises. hi dusty where are you! i will come immediately where ar eyou!! I press send but nothing happens. I press it again and again. Nothing changes. Airplane sits on my boots, munching on something he found on the ground. He reaches up and tugs my hand.

The rat thing’s a genius. I rush to slide an arm out of my suit, sure the button will respond to my actual finger. The rat thing’s not a genius. Still there’s nothing. Message remains unsent, the arrow now gray instead of blue -

For a moment my heart stops. Ice splinters through my veins, down from my chest and into my arms. Then my heartbeat is faster, pounding harder, a drum roll that is ever louder, and louder, until it’s maddening and my head feels tight and everything is heavy and Airplane is screaming but I can’t hear it, I can’t hear it, only feel it, only feel the shaking of my body, the quivering of his shrieks like guitar strings, and I smash my fist through the glass pod and rip it back out, and I’m running, and I’m running,

and I’m running.

I am in the garden when I collapse. I smell the plumeria, honeysuckle, mint. The fire that roasted our enemies two days before, that brewed tea for Cedar, that kept us warm. Kept us whole. I want to light another fire. I want to believe Dusty will see it, wherever she is, and come running. I want to believe Cedar will bring more tea. I want to believe things are the same. I glance at my watch screen again: the arrow is still gray. I want that to change. Everything else has. Everything else has.

Against my better judgment I reach out and grab a decent-sized stick. I strike flint. Ignite leaves at the end. This fire won’t last. It serves as a temporary torchlight, enough to illuminate my path through the greenery. It’s different now, too. Frosted floors and plants more dead than before. Nearby are footsteps, shallow words that won’t mean the same tomorrow. They aren’t the voices of my friends, so I hug the wall.

There’s a low growl behind me. “Keep your voice down, Airplane,” I whisper and keep on. He ignores me, and growls again, and I turn on my heels. “I said to-shit!” Airplane is nowhere to be found. A pitcher plant gurgles, just out of my reach. Its wide-open mouth leaks fumes, and I cough. “Not again, fucker,” I say and turn back. I couldn’t repeat the same mistakes as before. Not without Dusty.

I walk a few more minutes but my stomach twists every step. Something was wrong. Something is wrong. I need to find her sooner than later. I need to find her, now. I lift my wrist and swipe off the screen with Dusty. In the main chat, I frantically churn out a message.

Cedar starts typing.

He stops.

He starts again.

He stops.

This continues and I want to rip out my hair. Then, in rapid succession, he sends,

Cedar: she’s gone
Cedar: she died
Cedar: sorry to have to tell you Nell

The world isn’t spinning.

I don’t know what I say but I know I say something. I know he has to be wrong. I know she is okay.

She has to be. “Anyway Airplane, I really want you to meet my friend, Dusty,” and then I realize. “Airplane? AIRPLANE?” My voice is far too loud, but I’m well past caring. If I attract other tributes, it’s a bigger search party. I can’t lose him, too, I can’t lose someone else, I can’t. I can’t lose anyone else. “AIRPLANE!” I turn back down the path and run. How long has he been gone? How did I not notice?

Dr. Eams is in my ear like bugs, gnawing his way into my thoughts. But I don’t need him now. I need to find Airplane, and I need to find Dusty, and we need to get out of this spaceship pronto.

As I pass by the pitcher plant again, I feel it. The wrongness writhing inside me. I stare it down, but it doesn’t make a move for me. Doesn’t seem interested in eating. Because it’s already feeding. “AIRPLANE!” I hold the torch-end of my stick at the plant and unload my blaster into the beast. “I’M COMING BUDDY!” I pull the trigger on my last laser, but it’s already dead. I race forward and reach inside its singed body, sticky chunks of flesh on my face to match the blood and brains of Dio. My hands burn, swimming around the stomach acid, but it’s worth it when they grab hold of something furry and heave him out. “Oh thank fuck, not you too, I couldn’t lose you too, Airplane,” I hold his body to me but he is quiet.

When I shine the torch light on him I scream. Drop his partially digested remains and stumble back.

I’m quick to recover, scooping his body up and tucking him under an arm. “Don’t worry, we’ll just dust you off, it’ll be okay.” I heave the pitcher plant over, let its fluids drain out. I crawl inside. “It’s you and me, kid.” Matted fur rubs my face as I cradle my friend. “We won’t give in," I smile and hold her tighter, her heart drumming against mine, "Dusty.”






ooc: title is from hawaiian mazes by banks
sorry airplane the koala is dead now i'm so sorry