AN: Okay, so for the first few chapters, it's going to be very short and jumpy as I try to get a lot of perspectives out all at once. Sorry if it seems kind of thrown together, as that is not my intent. Please review. Really. It honestly makes my day, because I don't have a life.
One minute Lillian was leaning against the Eggshell, crying from a mixture of blinding pain, and another kind of pain she wasn't ready to explore. The next, she was on the pavement, the pain magically gone.
Everyone gone.
She was on the highway, but not where she had been leaning only seconds before. Now the Eggshell was concave, reaching upward to the sky in its normal, impenetrable fashion. She let out a small whimper as she realized her reality. The Eggshell had cracked—maybe only for a second—but cracked nonetheless. Now Lil was on the other side, trapped in the hellhole she had only heard about in rumours and speculation. But as she sat on the ground, rubbing the cheek she had scraped from landing on the highway, she saw no signs of human life. A few squirrels ran here and there, but otherwise, Lil was alone. It made sense, she thought, as she began walking down the road. She wasn't anywhere near Perdido Beach, even when she was on the other side of the Eggshell. She was on the opposite side, where her mother and Lil had been when the Eggshell came into being. Her father and younger sister were at home, in Perdido Beach.
They had never found her father.
But now, inside the Eggshell, 18 year old Lil had a rare chance: to find her sister before… Before what? Lil wasn't sure she knew the answer, and a small part of her didn't want to. Instead, she immediately headed down the highway, where she knew she would find Perdido Beach, and, she hoped, her sister.
Diana flopped on the ground, wailing a strange combination of coughing, laughing, and strangled cries. Caine ran towards her, but not desperately. He ran like someone who was angry, determined. Diana didn't care. She didn't care about anything anymore. When she had stepped back on the cliff face—accidentally—for a moment she was happy. So, so blissfully happy. Now it was over. She wouldn't die. She wouldn't get that privilege. But she had accomplished something: Sanjit and his siblings had gotten away. How long they would survive in that helicopter, Diana didn't know, but it wasn't her problem anymore.
"DIANA!" Caine screamed, finally reaching her. He grabbed her shirt collar and yanked her upright, ripping the shirt just a bit. She stared at the ground blankly. She was broken.
"Don't you do that again! You stupid bitch! Forget it, I don't have anything else to say. We're going back to the house." He pushed her in front of him. "You walk ahead. Jesus, Diana, out of all the people I couldn't trust, I didn't think I would have to deal with this from you."
Diana smirked to herself, thinking how funny it was that Caine was going through all of this trouble to stop someone from dying.
John Terrefino was at his wit's end. Without Mary, he had taken on most of the work at the daycare, and things were not going well. Most of the time he glazed over, not paying attention to the children screaming for Mother Mary, screaming for their own mothers.
He had his own Mary he was screaming for.
He knew, deep down, that she was dead. Emma and Anna too. Francis. Everyone who had poofed. But his brain wouldn't process that. If it did, he would be a million times more insane than he already was. Glazing over was his only way to cope. Sam came over from time to time, but to be honest, he wasn't much help. Sam was a leader, not a babysitter. And the few meagre supplies he was able to drop off were almost not worth the horrible, pitying look he always had in his eyes when he looked at him.
Things were falling apart for John, and he knew it. The numbers at the daycare had gone from 40 to about 18 later in the week, as children realised they could find better care elsewhere. The only children left were the infants; little children under age 2. John was thankful deep down. He couldn't even handle the few children he had anymore. The children were hungry, crying, dirty, sad, screaming…
John stood up, and without looking around the room, he walked out of the daycare.
And just kept walking.
