Well, hey, Internet peoples. Nice to meet you. Even though this is a bit one-way for now. I originally wanted to do a fluffy fic with the whole Electroclan at Disney, but I'll wait until after Hunt for Jade Dragon/Whenever I get the courage/Most likely while I'm procrastinating doing Algebra homework to work on that. Anyways, it's set during the two to three week period that the gang spent at Mitchell's place. Unless I missed something while reading, the book never really said what everybody did for clothing… If it did somebody should tell me, and I'll scour the page/chapter(s). It's from Michael's POV like the books. There's a bug in my room right now… I'm going to add him in for the hell of it.
Countdown Until HJD: 114 Days (As of May 24)
Disclaimer: I own (Ready?) absolutely nothing. All characters, places, events, references, etc. belong to Richard Paul Evans and his wonderful mind. (Unless publishers count as well? Bah, you get the point.)
It kind of sucks knowing that out there, somewhere in the world, somebody needs your help. It sucks even more to know that that helpless person really could use anybody to lean on. But what really puts the cherry on top is knowing that you can't help them.
My mother is somewhere in Peru with a bunch of psychotic scientists and their electric rats. The rest of the Electroclan and I have been waiting for days from a call from the voice. Then we'll have to somehow travel to Peru, and save my mother. I don't remember signing up for this.
I sat, hunched over the side of one of Mitchell's beds, with my elbows resting on my knees, and my face cupped in my hands. My brows furrowed into a scowl as I prayed to whoever listening that the voice would come through soon. I puffed out a sigh in defeat, and fell backwards into the messy covers. I was wearing one of Mitchell's shirts that hung a bit loosely around my neck, and a pair of his old gym shorts that sported a middle school logo on one of the legs.
Ostin was downstairs either hopelessly flirting with McKenna or studying Elgen files, so I had the room to myself. It was quiet save a stray mosquito that continued to buzz into a wall, lost because there was no light in the room to guide it. I attempted multiple times to pulse when it would get close to a bedpost, but I failed due to its small size. I gave up on putting the pest out of its misery, and in result resorted to shooting glares at it whenever I heart it fly over my head.
I kicked my legs and wiggled a bit so that my feet wouldn't dangle off the edge of the bed, and so that I could curl up in the soft, expensive blankets. Now if only they didn't smell like Mitchell.
After laying in a fetal position for a while, I uncurled myself and patted around for one of the two pillows. I decided to take both and stack them. Ostin would probably sleep in a computer chair, so I wouldn't have to throw a pillow on the ground for him.
I lay on my right side with my right arm supporting the duel pillow tower below my head, and tried to listen and see if anybody else was awake. Thankfully, the mosquito ended up being no match for a solid wall, and hopefully met his end.
A television hummed what I think was a battling tune from a game. Either that, or Ostin was listening to game music while looking through the files. I really hope it wasn't the latter. Judging by the few voices, most of the Electroclan was already asleep, and maybe three or four people were awake.
Lifting my head, I checked to see if any light leaked through the crack under the door. Nothing. I collapsed back onto the pillows with a quiet grunt, and soon fell asleep to my familiar mosquito buzzing into walls once more.
I don't remember much of what I was dreaming before the sound of a door opening woke me up. Although I think it had something to do with Li'l Norris jokes.
"Ostin?" I grumbled, a bit upset that I would have to give up one of my pillows.
No response. I tensed after hearing the faintest shuffle of footsteps. I'm going to die. They found us, Elgen found us, and now I'm going to die, I panicked.
"T-This isn't funny, Ostin." I attempted to warn, my voice rising slightly. Good thing it was dark, because I was blinking like crazy.
I jumped slightly when something landed on, and shook, my bed. I thought I heard a quiet sniff, but shrugged it off as that nuisance mosquito. I sat up, leaned forward, and very slowly reached out to prod whatever—whoever—disrupted my sleep.
I made contact with a limb, and whoever was there jerked back at the same time I did. I was now on the verge of shaking. Slowly I slid off the bed, and made my way towards the doorframe. My hands snaked around the smooth, cool wall as I searched for a light switch.
"Don't." A shaky voice cracked through the darkness. Taylor. Well now I felt horrible.
Wordlessly I went back to the bed, and sat near where her voice had come from. Within seconds of sitting there I could hear and feel the blankets move as she felt her way towards me. I crossed my legs to balance myself, my mind still drunken from sleep. As she made her way towards me I tried to glance at the small alarm clock to see what time it was, but my view of its dull face was cut off by shadows. Slowly, I lifted an arm, and reached out to her. She flinched slightly as my fingers brushed what I hoped was her arm, but either way she lurched forward towards me. Taylor wrapped her arms around my torso, and pulled herself towards me until I could feel her hair against my cheek.
I thanked the dark once more for concealing my nervous blinking.
"What's wrong?" I murmured while lifting a hand to rub her back after feeling wet tears against my neck. I could feel the muscles near her temples tighten as she stifled a sob. Without responding immediately she tightened her grip. I then brought up my other arm to match her.
We sat there for a few long moments. The darkness filled only with the buzzing of a pest, and the occasional sob that would escape Taylor, but not a word was shared. I did my best to think of happy things, for Taylor was probably going to listen to my thoughts anyways, and eventually only the sound of buzzing filled the room.
Taylor slumped in my arms, asleep no doubt. I wouldn't dare attempt to carry her back to her room, so instead I lowered her to the bed. I was going to sleep on the floor, honest, but a hand shot out at me, and seized me by the wrist.
Slowly, I too lowered myself to Mitchell's bed. I lay there on my side for a few awkward moments before reaching down to my ankle and tugging the blankets back up. I carefully draped them over Taylor, and she wasted no time snuggling up below my chin.
Yeah, my mother would probably ground me.
I wanted to adjust the collar of my shirt, its dampness rubbing against my neck, but instead I craned my neck downwards and briefly brushed my lips against the top of Taylor's head. She released my wrist from her death grip. I wrapped one arm around her torso protectively, and snaked my other arm under her head so that I could run my fingers through her long hair.
A bright, blinding light burned my eyes even as they were closed. I'm dead. I thought, as my body slowly moved upwards. My limbs seemed to move on their own accord at a slow pace that felt like I was being dragged through Jell-O.
Another blinding flash shot across my vision, and suddenly I was at the doorsteps of my own apartment. The smell of warm waffles wafted into my nose, and I tried to run towards the door; hoping my mother was there. My legs moved slowly, but eventually I was able to get inside. Only to discover that the apartment was vacant.
Sorely, I sulked over to Ostin's apartment to drown my sorrows in gaming, but the door gave way before I even knocked. Peering inside, only the stale smell of fish sticks came out of the house. Fear for my best friend and his family washed over me.
Another blinding flash, and I was standing in front of the school. Turning, I could see the yellow busses all lined up as if picking up students. I waited, and waited for my friends to be released from school, but nothing moved. Not even the trees rustled in the eerie breeze that unsettled my hair.
With another flash came a short wave of pain. Nichelle! I silently screamed at myself, and tried to get away from her, but the pain between my temples increased. I tried to open my eyes, but not even my own body would respond.
After agonizing moments I gathered enough strength to look at my surroundings, but there was nothing but white all around me. My gaze raked over the bareness, but I couldn't even spot Nichelle. As soon as I made this discovery, the pain vanished, and the white melted into a snowy landscape. White flurries seemed to fly from the walls, and the slight outline of trees would replace them.
Michael! A voice called in my head. Help me. I frantically looked around for somebody, but I couldn't even recognize the voice in peril. I ran as fast as I could in my hazed state towards where I thought a person was until they called out again. I'm all alone. They cried out, and I tried to call back at them, but my mouth wouldn't form the words. The person needing help continued to call out and complain, but even that soon faded with the howl of the gaining wind. Dread washed over me as I hurriedly searched for the person in peril, I was ready to scream, and the howling of the wind was amplifying to an enraged buzz.
I jolted awake suddenly, my eyes fluttering to adjust to the lightness of the room. The blinds didn't cover up the whole window, so—lucky for me—a wonderfully blinding ray of morning sunlight was splashed across my face. It took me a moment to realize the pitched buzzing of the mosquito was still there, along with the sound of the bug smacking against the wall. With one final wailing buzz, the mosquito hurled himself at the window, and right into the glass with a dull thud!
I lifted my head up a few inches to check if it really was dead, and half smiled when I saw its small legs folded against itself, and the final twitches of its annoying wings. There was a small dab of blood on the window from where the mosquito hit it, so it probably fed of either Taylor or me last night.
Taylor! It's amazing I didn't even wake her. She was still curled against my chest, her long hair pooling behind her. Her fists were balled, and her arms folded against me. My arm was still draped over her waist, while the other one was now curled underneath my pillow. I had to crane my neck to read the digital clock next to the bed, and even then I could barely read it. I think it said nine-something, but I gave up on reading it, and set my head back down on its pillow.
Looking down at her, I could see that around Taylor's closed eyes her face seemed a bit pink from being upset. I mentally declared I would ask her about it when she woke up, and bent my head down to kiss the top of her head before drifting off.
I awoke a bit later as Taylor stirred in my arm. I think my twitching eyelids gave me away because after a few moments she spoke.
"Good morning."
I grunted back, and rolled onto my stomach. She prodded my side.
"Oh, get up." Taylor teased halfheartedly.
In response I groaned and rolled onto my back. After I adjusted to the sun's light, I turned my head towards her.
"Good morning." I grumbled back, lifting my fists to rub my eyes. "Are you okay? Did something happen last night?" I asked, cutting to the chase, and propping myself up on an elbow. Mitchell's shirt slid off my shoulder slightly, but I didn't bother to fix it.
Taylor cocked her head a bit before responding. "Nightmare," she said, "but I don't remember much. Maybe you shocked them away." She waggled her fingers at me. Taylor leaned forward, gave me a quick peck, and went to leave the room. She quietly said what I think was a 'Thank you,' but I could barely make out any words.
Shrugging, I rolled onto my left side—facing away from the bright rays this time, and quickly fell back asleep; preparing myself both mentally and physically for the stress that would come with rescuing my mother.
