Graben

Corpse Carrier - Act 1 | Chapter 3 - Graben
Five Hours and Sixteen Minutes Until Juna Dies

Forty-five minutes past, class ended, seats were abandoned, excitement sprung in the students' eyes, and Theo had work to do.

“Offer still on the table,” Jack said, setting a sly hand on Theo’s shoulder.

“C’mon,” Theo said, brushing his hand off. “It’s not like I'm hanging out somewhere else. I have a shift from 3:00 to 9:00.”

“And you’ll have another shift tomorrow. Lighten up a little and make your own choices.” Jack shoved Theo in the side a little more than playfully. He stepped to the door, slung his backpack into Simon's thigh, and gave a sour look back. “A man’s got to make his own decisions at some point.” He raised a half-hearted hand. “Later dude.”

Theo lingered at his desk, watching the door frame long after his friends left. He rummaged through his hair. Diligent. Theo had to be diligent. The Medical Charity Care program wouldn’t like it otherwise. Submerging those unneeded desires and protecting himself from the suffocation of future regret, that was Theo being diligent. That’s what the program wanted.

What his sick sister needed.

Theo flipped his wrist and checked his leather-strapped watch. The head of the watch was a rusted forgotten silver resembling a metal closer to bronze. Worse still was the insides. The watch had a shot battery compartment and needed new ones almost every three days. It was a hassle to keep ticking, but it was a gift from his dad. Something passed down from his father's family tree and ended up in Theo’s hands. Though he’d only heard that from his grandpa.

Below the heirloom watch, on the same wrist, was a brown-and-black threaded bracelet connected to a copper wire cage. Inside, a clear quartz an inch wide. Another gift, one more precious than ten of those watches.

Diligent. Theo must stay diligent.

The time was 2:49. It took three minutes to collect his things from the locker, and six to jog to the warehouse. He’d get there at 2:58. The job paid well and Theo could stack on as many hours as he wanted, they were never short of work. Time was the issue. His boss had this weird philosophy about being exactly on time.

The normal saying goes, If you’re five minutes early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late.

Theo’s boss restructured the saying.

If you’re late, then never show up again.

A tad more extreme and less poetic than the original, but Theo formed a good habit of being punctual from it. Though, if he didn’t leave now that habit would break. He slung his brown backpack over his shoulder, and took out a peanut butter oats bar to snack on the way. Theo stepped out of the classroom and into the halls, and immediately, he and his oats bar collided into someone.

Juna, of all people.

Five Hours and Fourteen Minutes Until Juna Dies

Her purple-toned backpack tumbled to the ground and burst open. Notes flew from inside, along with pencils, folders, and a hard covered book with its title etched out. The book thumped to the floor, heavy. Its size larger than any textbook they were required to have. The spine was sewed together by a golden thread, and specs of glitter lined the front cover's edge. No illustration brought the book to life, the cover remained a blank sea of purple with an unknown title hidden behind scrapes and tears. A stylistic choice that wasn’t intentional. Was that Juna’s doing?

“...sorry,” Juna mumbled. Her voice low, and even up close Theo barely caught it. It felt different from how he normally heard it during class. In the past it felt shy, like she held her voice back from nervousness. Though that one sorry, had been pronounced as if she couldn’t raise her voice any louder, as if her throat were stuck.

“It’s all good. I rushed out myself, that's my bad,” Theo said. He went to pick up the heaviest item for her, the scratched out hard cover. Though his fingertips only grazed the spine before Juna slapped his wrist. It didn’t hurt, it stung more like a flick than a slap.

Theo looked up, and Juna’s amber-coated eyes stared back. Her arms crossed over her knees, dangling in front of her grey skirt and black tights. This was the first time Theo had actually seen her eyes, let alone her face all day.
Had Juna always had that black eye?

A perfect circle of ash-bruised skin, like a dark target, or a coon’s patch. Swollen half-shut, concealing a quarter of her amber pupil. Her right eye, the healthy one, was no different. Just an inch wider, still narrow, half hiding behind the silver curtain.

Theo almost spoke without thinking, almost asked what happened? But he swallowed those words. Someone else asked instead.

“My goodness Juna! What happened to your bag?”

A hint of sarcasm and a pinch of mockery escaped from each word of Reyna’s mouth. She bent beside Juna, and propped an arm on her back. Her fingertips crawled Juna’s spine and slithered into the strands of hair that passed in between each finger.

Juna’s good eye shot wide, shook, pleaded with motion. The other eye couldn’t.

“I’ll help her clean up the mess,” Reyna said, smiling with teeth too white to be pure. “Ain’t that right, Juna?”

The wad of hair entrapped by Reyna’s clasp was tugged. Juna’s head shot up, the right eye widened more. The left eye remained narrow and complacent as her bottom lip quivered. She whimpered, and that's all Reyna needed to hear.

“See?” She picked up a folder and set it on Juna’s lap, then swept up the clutter of notes. Her nails brushed over each stray paper as she collected them, taking time to flip them over and scan them with a grin before placing them in the stack.

Theo hesitated, bounced his heel, then spoke.

“It’s fine.” Theo hovered his hand over a scratch piece of paper used for math class, and peeled its corner from the tiled floor. “I can help t-”

The time. His borrowed time ticking on his wrist. Theo dropped the paper.

2:51

He pounced to his feet and made sure his eyes never met Juna’s own. Theo apologized, gave a swift bow knowing full well the apology wasn’t for knocking Juna over, but for the aftermath that followed it. Then stormed off at a brisk pace. And as he turned the hallway’s corner, the words he heard far behind him painted a picture of a serpent's smile in his mind.

A faint hiss passed from Reyna’s lips. “...what kind of book is that?”