Wish Me Back: Part 2

When asked about why he returned to campus, the boy simply shook his head. “I remember I was standing in the hallway, but I felt like I was half-asleep,” he said, wracking his brain. “It looked at the photos of all the students on the pin board, but when it found yours, it seemed like it knew exactly who it was searching for.”

Lacia’s face had grown pale as one of the other students settled her into a nearby chair, afraid she was going to pass out. The school in of itself felt strangely artificial to her; to have some kind of beast attempt to hunt her down, however, only affirmed her worries that something wasn’t quite right. She felt woozy, drained of energy. Hazy images flooded her mind of the mysterious lab and its dim lights, but that was as much as she could make out; she felt like she was trying to recall a dream.

“Let’s pretend this is all actually for real for a moment,” she said, shakily. “Why did that thing want me, and why go to such lengths to totally wreck the place? And no casualties? Either this is a super elaborate prank or I’m missing something.”

The Treasurer cleared his throat. “So that we’re all on a first name-basis here, instead of everyone calling me Mr. Treasurer, just use my name—Kaden. As for your previous statement, Lacia,” he said, “That thing was not an elaborate hoax. It barreled into me like a damn freight train and shoved me into the lockers. Honestly, I’m fortunate you guys dug me out.”

The abrupt striking sound of leather shoes on tile pierced the hallway, averting everyone’s attention to the doorway. A girl, about Lacia’s age, stood in the frame, breathing heavily as she attempted to catch her breath.

Her hair looked as if it had been wind blown, uneven bangs of caramel brown hair revealing her forehead. Big, brown eyes reminded Lacia of a dog begging for a treat, but she admired how vibrant they were—a perfect chocolate brown. A sweet scent wafted into the classroom, sending Lacia’s brain into overdrive as she attempted to identify the girl’s perfume.

“She’s so pretty,” Lacia thought. “Slim figure, great face, and a butt I wish I had.”

“Kaden,” the girl cried out, “I—” She stumbled over her words, eyes wide as she made eye contact with Lacia. She shook her head, collecting herself. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“What was that?” Lacia thought. “She acted like she knew me or something, but I have no idea who this girl is…”

As she walked into the classroom, it became apparent she’d been through quite an ordeal; dust caked her skin, giving her an almost emaciated appearance. Clouds of dust and flakes of foam ceiling tile emanated from her clothes as she brushed herself off. Wincing, a fresh puncture wound brimmed with fresh crimson; she squeezed her arm, blood seeping through her fingers.

“Lyra?” Kaden replied. “Where did you come from?”

“I was home sick today,” she said, “but I got a text from the school telling everyone to shelter in place, so I came as quickly as I could. I was worried, ok?”

Kaden shook his head. “Do I even have to explain to you how awful a decision that was and what “shelter in place” means?”

Lyra puffed out her cheeks, not happy about the reprimand. “I’ll have you know,” she started, placing a very animated hand on her hip, “while I was making my way through all the debris, I found this phone on the floor.” She placed her hand back at her side. “I… know whose it is, but I don’t think they’re with us anymore.” She held the phone out, unlocking it with a few quick taps. “Just what happened here, though? There’s a video on here that gives me a pretty good idea, but…”

Kaden answered first. “For starters, we were attacked by some strange creature. Where it came from, hell if I know. Regardless, it was merciless.”

A shiver crept down Lacia’s spine. “Lyra… that video… Can we see it?” she asked, unseating herself from the chair.

“I really don’t recommend it if you have a weak stomach,” she warned. “I haven’t watched all of it myself, but what I did watch… It’s not pretty.” She placed the phone on a nearby desk for everyone to see, angling the phone against a textbook.

The camera was shaky, periodically pointed at the floor, down at the shoes of a female student, or waving around the room; it was apparent the video was placed in one of the classrooms. Gasps shook the silence as the first images danced across the screen of the thing that had nearly killed them. It was one thing seeing its carcass, it was another to see it up and about, prowling every square inch of the classroom.

It was difficult to make out at first, refracting light with every step it took. Somewhere off-camera, a loud crash erupted before the phone abruptly turned toward the source of the disturbance: the classroom door had been torn from its hinges as it flew through the window, narrowly avoiding a group of students huddled together in fear, followed by the sickening crunch of bones and shrieks of agony.

The video continued for a few more seconds, capturing the exact moment a student was caught by the beast, dangling upside down, caught by an invisible tendril of sorts. Moments later, they dissipated into a pile of ash. The remainder of the video was filled with the sound of ripping flesh, splattering blood, and screams as students attempted to flee via the broken window, only to wind up with broken legs as they hit the ground—fodder for the beast.

The camera was thrown into the air, landing on the floor atop a pile of clothes—likely the uniform of the student who’d been filming. As the phone continued to record, more terrified shrieks and cries could be heard from further up the hallway; a bloody hand fell over the camera as the video ended.

Kaden spoke up first. “Everything that happened before that thing hit me is a blur,” he said, rubbing his head, “Honestly, I’m not even sure if I just tripped or if it knocked me out the way. I mean, it was so focused on finding you it ignored me, I guess.” He looked to Lacia.

“I— I don’t know, Kaden,” she said. “I think I need some air, though… The room is spinning…” Her palms grew sweaty as she gripped the corner of the desk, growing increasingly nauseated. She closed her eyes. “Oh my god…”

“Hey! Lacia?” a faint voice called. She opened one eye to find Lyra crouched in front of her. “Hey, stay with me,” she said.

“I—"

The fall was inevitable. Lacia tried to stand, feeling like she was about to vomit, as she stumbled around the classroom. Banging her knee on a desk, she fell over the edge, unable to stop her descent. Her head slammed against another desk as her foot caught the underside of yet another, twisting around, causing it to fall over her as her head finally hit the floor.

Lyra’s voice faded into the black. “Fuck. I lost her already…”

A small groan escaped Lacia’s throat. She tried to stretch but was promptly greeted with sore muscles and a pounding headache. Inconvenient, but at least the nausea was gone, and her head wasn’t spinning like she was stuck on a merry-go-round. Realizing the same ache from before had returned, she moved to rub her side, wincing.

Looking around, she realized what had once been a warmly lit school classroom was now an empty room, cage-like walls towering before her, void of décor and cold. a sharp pain surfacing from the same side as always. She had a feeling she was back on the same ship of the man who’d kidnapped her, but even if that were true, it didn’t explain why the dream she’d just had felt so real. Realizing she wasn’t strapped down this time, she sat up… and was greeted with the same swimmy feeling from before.

“Oh god,” she moaned, “I’m going to be sick. Hate me for this later.” She leaned over the edge of the bed but didn’t make it in time.

Not a minute later, angry footsteps paraded down the hall as the door to her room was thrown open. It was a woman, but she didn’t have time to ask for a towel or something to settle her stomach as she was promptly stripped down, sweat and vomit-covered clothes and all.

She was half-led, half-dragged down the hall and thrown into a spacious shower room. The strange new woman barked orders at her.

“Clean yourself up, and if you get sick in there too, you’ll be the one cleaning it up next time. Understand?” she growled as she walked away.

Startled, Lacia examined the shower room as the door slammed shut behind her, sending a whirl of cherry blossom and summer rain-scented soaps into the air—a luxurious aroma, but it didn’t take long for curiosity to take over. Did the woman lock the door behind her? If not, could she just… run away? She stood up and was met with a searing ache in her side again. Using the wall for support, she inched her way towards the door, jingling the handle. To her dismay, although unsurprising, the door was locked.

“Oh well,” she sighed. “They have running here, right?” she wondered aloud. “A hot shower would be massive W right now. I feel disgusting, and being covered in puke is so not fun.” She turned away from the door.

The bathroom was spacious, shower stalls running the length of the left wall; several smaller toilet stalls and sinks lined the opposite wall, separated by a large wall-length mirror on each side. Like every other room on the ship, the bathroom was also devoid of windows, only illuminated by dim LED lights that reflected off the glassy floor. Dark tiles and low light made the bathroom feel like something out of a movie; it was exceptionally clean, aromatic, and so quiet her ears rang.

She stepped into the shower stall furthest from the door—God only knew if the woman was eavesdropping by the door or not. She wanted privacy—not someone who monitored her every move.

With a small squeak, she turned the shower handle, surprised by the instant hot water. Looking around, she noticed a small table adorned with several bottles of shampoo and body soaps that had been left in a nearby stall. What she really wanted, however, was a toothbrush and some toothpaste. She allowed the steam from the shower to fill the bathroom as she rummaged around inside an unlocked cabinet, successfully acquiring a package of toothbrushes and a small tube of toothpaste.

“Technically, since I’m the one being held captive, I have a right to whatever I want in here,” she mumbled. “I mean, don’t I deserve at least a little compensation?”

Walking into the other stall, she grabbed the table, undressed, and stepped into the water; the steam helped to relax her muscles. The sound of the shower water filled the bathroom, blanketing her pained grunts as she slid down the shower wall and onto the floor. She pulled her knees up to her chest and closed her eyes; warm water plastered her hair against her wet skin.

“Fuck… What did I get myself into?” she said, exasperated. “And… what was that dream? It felt so real, but that girl…” She shook her head. “No. I had to be imagining it. Strangers don’t just look at each other like they’re old friends.”

She recalled everything that happened up to that point: the bleeding and bruising, the dream she’d had with Brendan, leaving home, and, finally, the neriolite and mysterious man. Was there something they all had in common? Something that linked everything together into one single narrative? Mana was in the most recent dream she’d had. Could there be a connection between her and the strange man?

“Ahh! There’s too many questions and not enough answers,” she said, squeezing her fingertips against her scalp. “There’s a reason I’m here, but what’s the reason Mana and Brendan are involved?”

All else aside, there was still the hyper-realistic dream she’d just had. The problem with calling it a dream, however, was that it felt too real to be something the chemicals in her brain conjured up while she was asleep. Calling it a dream felt like a grave misrepresentation of whatever it really was; it was like a strange, alternate reality—an entire world hidden somewhere in the folds of time and space.

She leaned her head against the shower wall, allowing the water to run down her face. “Get a grip, Lacia. Or… as much of one as you can get considering you’re being held captive on some strange ship in the middle of the ocean,” she retorted. “I don’t know. I mean, this is super freaky, but, so far, I don’t really feel like I’m in danger, if that makes sense.”

Worrying over things outside of her control wasn’t going to help anyone, certainly not herself. She pushed the thoughts from her mind for the moment and began washing her hair; the shampoo smelled like summer rainwater, reminding her of the days she’d stomp around in puddles as a little girl after a heavy rain. The scent made her miss home and all the late nights she’d spend texting Mana, nestled comfortably beneath her bed covers.

She rinsed her hair before grabbing a toothbrush as she applied a glob of toothpaste to the bristles; she was determined to purge the foul taste of vomit from her mouth. One vigorous dental care session later, her mouth was so minty she was convinced she’d stripped her taste buds of their ability to recognize anything other than mint.

“All that thought about my bed, though… It really makes me want one right about now, but I don’t have any pajamas, much less actual clothes anymore. Some clean underwear at the very least would be wonderful,” she grumbled. “Actually, I really could use some towels, too.”

Stumbling around the steamy bathroom, she dug through another unlocked cabinet, her wet feet slapping the tile floor. A moment later, she procured a set of cotton towels, softer than sheep’s wool; they were incredibly absorbent. She walked back to the shower stall, turned the water off, and walked back to the main door.

“Hey~! Would it kill someone to treat their poor little prisoner with some compassion? She could really use a fresh set of clothes.” The approach of angry footsteps and unlatching of the door lock caused her to step back; the door swung open, missing her face by inches. A set of freshly laundered clothes promptly sailed through the open door, nailing her in the face.

She sorted through the pile. “What? No socks? Not that I really need them, though, I guess…”

“What about a pair of socks,” the woman mocked. “How about you wear what you’re given and stop complaining? You have no rights here.”

Lacia stared at her for a moment. “Alright. No socks. Got it. So, what about a br—” She was interrupted by a stare from hell.

“You’re too flat to need one,” the woman said, insultingly. “You have five minutes. Knock when you’re finished.”

Lacia frowned but decided to keep her thoughts to herself. The perfect fit of her new clothes was not reassuring. Someone had taken her measurements without her knowledge—or consent. Was it the strange man, or was it the woman? Either way, she shuddered at the thought.

“Creepy…”

She finished dressing as she gave the door a couple quick knocks. The door swung open again, missing her by less than an inch this time as the woman stood in the doorway. She looked Lacia up and down, examining every square inch of her body.

“Hands,” she commanded.

“Huh?”

“Give me your hands.”

Confused, Lacia held her hands out as the woman bound them together with extra rope on the end as a sort of makeshift leash. "Oh, this should be real exciting. This woman would totally hit me if she could hear the sarcasm oozing into my thoughts right now.”

Lacia willingly followed the woman, allowing several feet of slack in the rope as she followed behind. Everything had happened so fast earlier; all she could remember was the churning ache in her stomach.

Now that she could focus, she understood just how big the ship was, despite its narrow, cramped halls. Numbered rooms lined the hall on either side, but they remained empty, the smell of citrus and bleach once again swirling around inside her nose. The tile floors seemed like an odd design choice whereas most of the furniture was built with a wooden frame, though things had been anything but normal lately.

After what seemed like ages, the woman finally stopped in front of a closed door; the number 9 was painted onto a steel card, anchored to the wall. Beneath the room number was another, smaller card—a name was etched into it. The door swung upon with a loud whoosh before Lacia could read the name as she was yanked into the room, bombarded by the same overwhelming stench of citrus and bleach—twice as strong as out in the hall.

The woman stood at the foot of a small bed, motioning for Lacia to lay down. She considered yanking on the rope herself, hoping she might catch the woman off guard; she’d make a run for it, find a life raft, and escape the confines of the hellhole she’d found herself in.

“And where would I go? There’s nothing but open water out there, I’m sure. I’d probably just die from dehydration,” she thought.

Reluctantly, she decided to oblige the strange woman. Her only other alternative was to attempt a grand escape, but that was dependent on the availability of a way to get off the ship to begin with. With an inaudible sigh, she dragged her feet through the doorway; the icy floor robbed her of every morsel of body heat as she traversed the dark floor on her tiptoes. She glanced at her reflection, fractured like ripples in water. Was the disheveled appearance of her refection a metaphor for the chaos her life had become or was it foreshadowing something else, entirely—something dark?

“You know, socks of some sort would be nice. I’m freezing and so is this floor,” she said, seating herself against the headboard of the bed. “I don’t care if it’s socks, tights, or if you just want to turn the air conditioning off. It’s cold in here, and I feel like I’m going to freeze to death.”

Ignoring Lacia’s request, the woman tied her end of the rope to the footrails of the bed as she rummaged through a small cabinet on the other side of the room. A moment later, she emerged with a thin, metallic wristband; an LED screen flickered to life. Her name, room number, and random string of numbers scrolled across the screen.

“Hold out your arm,” the woman demanded.

“No thanks.” She sat on her hands, determined to win this new game of chicken, but alarm bells rang in the back of her mind.

One resounding slap later and she was rubbing her cheek; a red handprint sweltered against her skin. Stunned by the sheer force of the slap, Lacia stared into space, mouth agape. The woman seized the opportunity, fastening the wristband to her arm as it locked with a soft click. New numbers appeared across the display, registering everything from blood oxygen level to body temperature and heart rate. A brief message appeared onscreen: Lacia Amana—Guest No. 09 Registered.

“What is this thing and why did you put it on me?!” Lacia demanded, staring at the wristband. "Not very flashy," she mumbled, still rubbing her cheek.

Without warning, another red handprint stung her other cheek. “You are a nuisance,” the woman said, “and I’m tired of dealing with you already. I wish I were assigned to one of the other guests,” the woman whined. “I don’t see why you’re so special, to be honest.”

“Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual,” Lacia retorted. “I’m sure you guys get an absolute kick out of holding me captive and treating me like some research subject.”

The woman raised her hand again, ready to strike. “Just stop talking.”

“I swear to god if you hit me one more time, it won’t be me who’s stuck in a room with nowhere to go,” Lacia said, ignoring the warning.

The woman sneered. “Oh, is that so? Well, I think you need to learn some manners and proper, lady-like etiquette.” She dug around in the same cabinet from earlier, procuring a large syringe filled with a clear liquid; the needle alone was menacing enough as it glinted in the light from the doorway. “I’ll give you five seconds to take back what you just said.”

“And I’ll give you five seconds to put that syringe back. I am not letting you put that in my body. In fact,” she said, raising her voice, “you people are absolutely insane! I—”

The woman moved the length of the room faster than Lacia could blink, catching her off guard. She felt a small pinch in her arm.

“What was in there?” she said slowly. Her gaze was fixated on the now-empty syringe.

“Nothing you’ll ever hear me talk about. Really, it makes no difference,” the woman said in a lofty voice. “My name is Cherri, and I’m going to make sure you learn to hate my visits.”

“What are you? My registered nurse or something?” Lacia said saracastically.

“Perhaps, though I don’t think that term is all-encompassing enough,” Cherri bragged.

Lacia’s eyes had already started to grow heavy. The room spun each time she tried to fight the ensuing sleep as it stripped her of lucidity. The line between reality and dream-like blurred; she wasn’t sure if the conversations she was having were real or just the chemicals in her brain playing tricks on her.

“Aww, look at you. Can’t even keep your eyes open anymore. Well, I suppose this is goodnight for now, then.”

“I…” Lacia tried to reply but consciousness was fleeting as she fell victim to sleep.

“I don’t even get paid to do this,” Cherri mumbled. “Ungrateful little pests…” She locked the door to Lacia’s room, a faint click bouncing off the cold, concrete walls. 

Licht was exactly where the note said he would be. He was thin but he didn’t look a day over twenty-one—not even his scraggly beard and shaggy hair could age him a day. Though his clothes were stained with dirt and ragged, he looked like he was living his best life. A fishing net had been tied to the pier as he tossed it into the water, humming the whole time.

“He really seems to be enjoying himself,” Mana whispered. “Like, he looks totally happy where he is. Do we really want to disturb him?”

“Hey, he could be your next best, uhh— Never mind.” Brendan put a hand on Mana’s shoulder. “He’s a great guy. Trust me.”

“If he’s as great as you say he is, then I have no complaints, I guess,” she sighed. Considering this guy lived way out in the middle of nowhere, she couldn’t fault herself for her apprehension.

Brendan smiled. “Licht!” he called.

He temporarily lost his balance, startled by Brendan’s voice. His face lit up as he turned around and waved. “Brendan! How are you?” he shouted, placing the remainder of the fishing net in the water. “How long has it been since we last saw each other?

Brendan nodded. “I,” he paused, bringing Mana into the conversation. “We’re doing pretty good, despite all the crazy shit as of late.”

He turned to introduce Mana as Licht walked up, but she was gone. Panic set in, thinking she’d fallen into the water, but the water’s surface was calm; she couldn’t have fallen in—he’d heave heard the splash.

“If you’re looking for your friend, she’s right next to you,” Licht laughed.

“Huh? Oh,” she mumbled, embarrassed. She’d crouched down to admire her reflection in the water. “Sorry, let me, uh, introduce myself,” she said, standing up. “My name is Mana, it’s nice to meet you.”

Licht grinned. “A fine young woman, Brendan, and she has excellent manners. Quite the catch!”

Mana’s face flushed. “Oh, um— No. We’re not like that, sorry. I don’t think I—”

“Aaanyways,” Brendan interjected, changing the subject, “we actually have a problem, and we really need your expertise. You know just about every craft that sail these waters, and with your knowledge of the oceans around Alura, we thought you be able to help us out.”

“I can do my best, but I don’t think that thing’s gonna be of much help if you’re needin’ a boat,” Licht said, pointing to a small wooden boat.

“That’s not quite it,” Brendan laughed. “Have you seen any strange craft around here lately or seen anything out of the ordinary?”

Licht paused for a moment. “No, not that I can think of.”

Brendan’s smile turned into an aslant frown.

“However,” Licht said, continuing, “I think I might have somethin’ you’d find interesting. Here. Somethin’ tells me this is important to you.” He handed a small, sky-blue ribbon to Mana.

It was stiff and had lost much of its elasticity. The heavy stench of salt filled her nose as she turned the fabric around in her hands, rubbing the roughed-up ribbon over her palm. Though it had lost much of its color from the salt and sun, there was no doubt it had originally been the same color as Lacia’s hair ribbon.

“Thar ain’t somethin’ that washes up on my shores all the time. When I found it, there was still a hair stuck to it,” he explained. “It looked as if it had been tangled in the wind or somethin’, but the hair definitely ain’t mine,” Licht said.

Mana held the ribbon up to her chest. “You see, our friend was taken from us about two weeks ago now, and we don’t know who took her or where they went. She means the world to me; I’m her best friend, and I let her down,” she said, fighting back tears. “This ribbon is hers. It has to be.”

Brendan turned to Licht. “Will you come with us? We could really use your knowledge and analytical skills. You’d know more about the oceans than we do.”

“Hmm… Why not? This little place doesn’t have much left for me, anyways. Givin’ you two a hand sounds like it could be an adventure!”

“Great!” Brendan replied. “This was as far as I could trace her mana trail, but it seemed just as strong while we were driving north. I don’t know. It seems strange, but the trail has been growing weaker by the day. Fortunately for us, though, you happened to be along the same route.” He stared out across the horizon; a sea breeze blew his hair back. “She’s out there somewhere. Finding her will be the hard part.”

He took a step back, steadying himself. Maybe it was just the roll of the waves, but he swore he felt a small shake—stronger than he’d expect from the battering of the waves against the pier. An earthquake? There weren't any signs of structural damage, though, and the shaking had stopped. Even so, it was still—too still. The sound of the waves had stopped, the wind in the trees was barely noticeable—even the familiar squawking of seagulls had come to an abrupt end.

“Hey, guys,” Mana said, “I think we should get going—something isn’t right. I… can’t really say why, but we should go.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot.

“I’ll be the last to argue with your intuition, especially after all we’ve been through lately,” Brendan said.

“Hold on a second you two,” Licht said. “I have this little radio here. If the Misses said something wasn't right, then…” He pulled a small hand-crank radio from his tacklebox.

“...Warning… All… Evacuate…” The radio promptly died upon issuing its warning, but it was enough.

A large flock of seagulls scattered from the docks, taking the group by surprise as the water began to retreat. The sea breezes grew warm and dry, absent the usual humid blast of moisture. A white line appeared on the horizon as the trees began to sway again, but not from the sea breeze. It was faint, but the ground seemed to vibrate.

“Get off the docks,” Mana said, staring at her feet. “That… was an earthquake, and it was a big one.” She looked at Brendan and Licht. “We need to leave!”

The trees began to sway with violent fervor. Brendan and Licht dove for the shoreline just as the pier broke off into the muddy bed below. Without warning, a cloud of salt blasted the group. Mana lost her balance, the salt stinging her eyes, before she slammed into the trunk of a nearby tree.

“Brace yourselves,” she shouted.

Not a moment after the words left her mouth, the ground erupted into a chaotic frenzy of shaking and rolling. Seismic waves leveled the town in an instant, reducing the decaying buildings into nothing more than piles of rubble.

Mana struggled to stand, but the ground rolled like waves on the ocean. It was too dangerous to stand, even if she could. Tree branches began to break as she watched on in horror. Between the approaching wall of water and dodging falling tree branches, she let her mind wander, debating which was quicker: death by water or crushed by a falling branch?

She shook her head. “This isn’t a normal earthquake. It looks like I’m the closest to the car, but we’re going to have literal minutes to get as far away from here as possible,” she thought.

Brendan and Licht were just as caught as she was, pinned to the ground underneath another nearby tree. Her eyes grew wide as the sound of uprooting trees added to the cacophony of sounds. The roar of the approaching tsunami was creeping closer; combined with the rumbling from the quake itself, she wondered if the ground would swallow them instead.

After another couple of terrifying minutes, the shaking stopped. Mana bolted for the car; Brendan and Licht followed her lead. The car was the only way out of town, but the roads had been torn to shreds and littered with debris. Was there a way out of town?

Frantically, she climbed into the car. “Thank God, you left the keys in the ignition, Brendan, and thank God you parked it away from the trees.” Licht and Brendan climbed into the backseat seconds later. “Is there high ground anywhere? High enough to survive the water?” She asked, putting the car in drive.

Licht shook his head. “The land around here is flatter than flat. You won’t find high ground.”

“Which means floor it, Mana!” Brendan exclaimed.

Mana was way ahead of him. She slammed her foot on the gas pedal. If there was a way out of town, she’d find it, even if it meant forgetting the concept of roads entirely.

“Hope you buckled up,” she said. “You’re going to fly around the car if not.”

She bit her tongue as she ran over a large hole. The bitter taste of blood filled her mouth, but it was a small price to pay if it meant they could avoid getting washed out to sea.

“Thank god Ryan found the one car with four-wheel drive and off-road capabilities,” she thought, white knuckling the steering wheel. “If we make it, I swear I’m never visiting another shanty town in my life.”

The tsunami had leveled everything. Uprooted trees blocked the road behind them, though the road itself had been washed out. If they’d left even ten seconds later, there was a chance they wouldn’t have made it. Water lapped at the road, brown and muddy. It was as if it were trying to reach out, hoping to drag them in.

Instinct or not, Mana thanked her lucky stars they were uninjured, not to mention alive. She commended her veteran racing game skills, weaving in and out of fallen trees, drifting around corners, and shifting gears over dirt roads; if she’d lost even a second, it would have been game over. She’d managed to stay ahead of the water, or, at least, the deepest parts. She’d panicked once the water reached the tires, but quickly fell away a minute later once the car hit the highway.

Her eyes were practically glued to the rearview mirror as she watched pieces of metal bend around the trunks of trees, submitting to the force of the water. She’d never forget the mind-numbing screech it made, like nails on a chalkboard. The look of terror on Licht and Brendan’s faces reminded her of horror movie jump scares; they were whiter than a ghost, beads of sweat dripping down their foreheads.

After making sure they were safe, she pulled off to the side and looked out over what was once dry land. The trio watched as entire sections of the highway crumbled away, falling into the ocean. Mother Nature was powerful, but this seemed excessive. Either way, no one would be travelling south for a while.

“I wonder if that guy, Ryan, is okay. Maybe it wasn’t as bad where he is,” she thought. “Honestly, if you were to ask me what the difference was between a bomb and a tsunami in terms of damage, I don’t think I could tell you.”

She pulled her phone from her bag, hoping for even the faintest cell signal… and she got one. The internet and news media were ablaze with disaster coverage. A drone relayed footage of the devastation; the water was so full of debris there was a strong chance it could support a person’s weight if they were to walk across it.

“Are you guys watching thi—” She jumped. Brendan and Licht had been peering over her shoulder, eyes affixed to the phone screen. “Ok. New rule,” she said. “No creeping over my shoulder without my permission.”

“My bad,” Brendan said, “but, yeah. I can’t believe it. Where is the footage from?”

“The broadcast says it’s out of West Cove. That’s about four hours southwest of Azalea,” she explained. “So—"

“Approximately fifteen minutes north of Oldbreak,” Brendan piped up. “We’re probably about half an hour out if we want to head there, but anything on the west coast may not be a good idea right now.”

The broadcast changed. A map appeared on-screen, a tiny circle estimating the epicenter of the earthquake; estimates on the loss of life, property, and overall damages scrolled across the bottom of the screen. As if the earthquake and tsunami weren’t enough, the broadcast pivoted to another breaking news story: “Mystery Illness Strikes Town of Azalea.”

“Okay, now that’s odd,” Mana thought. “Wasn’t there supposed to be some cloud of radiation from the nuclear plant north of town? What gives?”

New drone footage showed extensive damage to the nuclear plant Ryan had warned them of before leaving, but the reports she was expecting to hear and images she was expecting to see didn’t line up. Breaking headlines warned of some mysterious illness; Ryan had said it was a cloud of radiation they should be afraid of. There was a nuclear powerplant to the north of Azalea, but it hadn’t been in operation since before Mana was born. If there was such a leak as Ryan suggested, wouldn’t there be some kind of emergency response? Where were the workers and hazmat suits?

To make matters worse, the current news broadcast told yet another story: The parking lots were barren, faded parking stripes adding tinges of white to what had become a desolate wasteland of grey concrete. Even the perimeter fences were rusted over and full of holes. If there truly was a leak, the reactor’s cores would have to be in place still—but they weren’t. In fact, there were no cores.

“None of this actually makes any sense,” Mana said under her breath.

A news anchor broke in: “Officials are confirming positive tests of a mystery illness in Azalea. We’re told the positive tests include the sailors from the missing vessels that appeared two weeks ago. They are now under quarantine and constant surveillance.”

Mana turned around. “Brendan, are you hearing this? They’re talking about the two boats that showed up in the middle of town the same day we met.” She paused. “Brendan?”

“You might want to see this first, little miss,” Licht said.

Brendan stood directly behind her, but his gaze was glued to the horizon. At first, she thought it was some kind of lame joke—until he pointed at the sky. Something in her peripheral vision shimmered as it raced across the blue plane, arcing like lightning. It was faint; if she looked directly at it, it would blend into the sky, and she’d lose it. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as a strange fissure appeared on the horizon.

“Ok,” Mana said, addressing Brendan, “let me make this even weirder since I guess there’s no limit now... Brendan, you remember that supposed cloud of radiation that Ryan warned us about, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah. What about it?”

“Take a look at this broadcast. The plant looks like it hasn’t been operational for years, and the fence is completely rusted out. What’s even stranger is there’s no emergency response. Weird, right? Why do you think that is?” she asked rhetorically.

“Yeah, I’d say that’s definitely weird, but I can’t really say why that is, if that’s what you’re asking.” His answer didn’t satisfy her. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“The same day we met, there were two fishing vessels that had washed up in the center of town, right? Ryan warned us about a cloud of radiation, but here’s the weird part: This drone footage is of the power plant, but the headline is talking about something else entirely.” She took a breath. “The sailors of the two vessels are alive, but apparently, they tested positive for this mystery illness. Why are we being told one thing and shown another?”

Brendan ran his hands through his hair. “You’re right. That doesn’t make any sense at all…” He turned to Licht. “Can you make any sense of all that?”

He put his hand to his chin, still fixated on the fissure in the sky. “Well, it sure sounds like your little group got mixed up in some pretty wild stuff. What I can tell you, you already know. We ain’t getting the full story.”

Brendan gave him an aslant frown. “You know, you don’t have to keep using that accent. Like, where did you even pick that up from? There was no one else in town, and I doubt someone coerced you into talking like that. Besides,” he added, “it doesn’t suit that massive brain of yours. You sound so dumb, bro.”

Licht laughed. “Eh. It’s whatever, though I suppose you have a point. On that note, I don’t suppose you have a razor, do you? If I’m gonna drop the accent, the beard goes with it.”

“I don’t actually have a use for one, so, no,” Brendan replied.

Mana inserted herself into the conversation, abruptly changing the topic. “Where’s the nearest town from here, Licht?”

He stood in silence for a moment. “Hmm… Technically, Oldbreak, but Seria is one of the most popular hubs on the east coast. It would have more accommodations.”

“Great, I’m famished,” she said, “you need to shave, and I’m sure Brendan would like a little time to refocus on Lacia’s mana trail.”

The sun had begun to set in the western sky, and she didn’t want to arrive in a city that was likely already beginning to fill with refugees—not in the dark. The city would be busy regardless, but with any luck, they could avoid any nighttime traffic hassles and, hopefully, find lodging before the hotels filled up.

“I’m leaving with or without you guys,” she shouted, “so let’s go.” She was already climbing into the car as Brendan and Licht scrambled into the backseat once more.

***

The flood water gradually faded into the distance the further she drove. While she was happy to add an additional member to the group, she remained steadfast on her quest to find Lacia.

“We’re doing everything we can to find you, I promise,” she thought to herself.

Without warning, an eerie voice popped into her head—soft and sweet, but straight to the point: “What would you sacrifice to bring her back?”

She checked the rearview mirror to see if maybe Brendan or Licht were messing with her, but they were deep in conversation, hushed whispers barely audible over the sound of the air conditioning. She glanced at the radio next, but it was off, and her phone was set to silent.

“What the hell? Am I losing my mind?” she mumbled.

The voice came again, more forceful: “What would you sacrifice to bring your friend back? Will you leave her?” it interrogated. “What if you could wish her back? Wish all of this to be… over?”

She gave a breathy reply. “Yeah… If it was that easy, I would have done it by now, but someone has to be realistic…”

The voice riddled back. “Under a bed of water, I lay in waiting. I can be seen twice a day. Find what you cherish most and unlock the door to the grand maze.”

“Oh boy… Convoluted riddles—just what I need.”