Author's Note: To clarify, Cameron's death wasn't an instant kill. He was likely alive for about another minute, but he just didn't have the energy to move or wail or anything. Wouldn't that have been despairing?

Final Destination: Breaking Down

Chapter Fourteen: Alive

"I just can't figure it out," I groaned, increasingly frustrated as my brain offered no solution to the conundrum.

"You're entirely certain you weren't supposed to die at the gas station?" Denali asked, sitting across from me in her living room.

"When Kimberly asked me, I saw the explosion, but only up to a point," I continued. "That's why I thought all three of us died. But then at the hospital, I saw a little bit more, and I survived."

Denali smirked a bit. "How do you know that there wasn't another little bit after that where something else did kill you?"

"I don't," I answered sharply, slapping my hands against my knees. From beside me, Riley wrapped an arm around my shoulders, squeezing me to reaffirm his presence as a protective ally. "But I really don't think I was supposed to die there."

Denali looked up at the ceiling, rocking her lower jaw back and forth as she thought. "Okay," she said as an idea lit up her eyes. "What if something was supposed to kill you in the hospital, but you got skipped somehow?"

The idea was reasonable, and admittedly it had never occurred to me, but I somehow sincerely doubted it. "I can't think of a damn thing that could have almost killed me. Riley?" I turned to him, waiting for his judgement.

"No, there wasn't anything that did that. I like to think we would have noticed that." Absent-mindedly, he rubbed my shoulder, looking back to Denali while biting his fingernails.

"Maybe we should just…" Denali began, spreading her hands to represent a growing sphere, "accept that Matt's been skipped for now and worry about why later."

"I don't know about that," I retorted, bringing up a finger to point in roughly her direction. "If there's something fishy that kicked my place from the list for some reason, we should probably figure out what it is. And maybe we can exploit it to skip everyone permanently."

This brought some emotion to Denali's eyes. "You think you got kicked off the list?" she called out, clearly surprised.

My initial response was a simple shrug, rather to her chagrin. "Maybe? It's the only thing that makes sense. If Kimberly were here, I'd ask her." I kept my arms aloft in my shrug, holding them for several seconds before dropping them back into my lap.

"Yeah, is there any reason you only called over me and Matt?" Riley asked.

Denali sighed. "We still don't know about the relative order between the three of us. I thought recent events would clear that up, but, as you both know, that sure didn't happen. So… I was kind of hoping Matt could revisit his vision and try to see if I'm there. Or you." She nodded to Riley.

That's always fun, I thought wryly. This answer seemed to hide some kind of other intentions, but I didn't question them further. "I'm entirely certain I didn't. Haven't we tried this before?"

"You've never mentioned how you died in Charleston," Denali continued. "Is it possible you've blocked that memory as a defense mechanism?" Her voice had sunk to a whisper, and she looked down at her lap.

"Denali…" I replied quietly.

She nodded a few times, then wiping her eyes. "That's what I've done." Her voice reminded me of candy glass, liable to dissolve with the faintest tap. "I… fell down the stairwell and broke my neck. That's the same thing that happened to Amy, right?" When you told me about what happened, I could feel the white heat through my own body. Gosh, it really hurts sometimes…" Since she wasn't looking up, I glanced over at Riley, who wasn't sure what expression to make.

"...I'll try," I finally spoke up after roughly a minute. With a deep inhalation, I focused on that fateful day three weeks prior.

I tumble from the banister above and find myself successfully on the next lower set of stairs. At this level, I am fairly certain I'm almost down to the fourth floor. I dash around the ledge, preparing to get to the third floor next.

But there it is, that godforsaken backpack. I don't understand how someone would accidentally drop something that should have been strapped to their back. Regardless, it brushes my foot as I jump over it, and I slowly tumble toward the concrete stairs.

My face lights up in hot pain as blood rushes to my nose, but I gingerly touch it and notice only moderate pain. It must not be broken, so I stand again and continue running down the stairs. In spite of being somewhat dazed, I quickly circle to the fourth floor, propelled by the realization that I've been inside for too long. The lack of surviving people around me tells me I'm inside the building in its last several seconds.

I'm about to reach the ledge halfway between floors four and three when the front wall entirely crumbles. Rain blows in harshly, and I shield my eyes for a second, trying to decide what to do. I don't think I'll have enough time to run down 2.5 more flights before the rest of the stairwell collapses. "Fuck!" I shout, then praying as intensely as I can manage. And then, I jump out into the open air.

The fall is petrifying, and I feel it in slow motion. As the air flurries about me, I find myself lamenting that this, the one thing that irrationally gave me anxiety, is now the thing that's going to kill me. I close my eyes as tears form, trying to prepare myself to hit the ground.

"Oof!" a voice grunts as I whack into someone. The person falls over, and my leg smashes into the ground. I find myself in a shit ton of pain, but I'm somehow still alive. "I got you."

I stare him in the face, thanking God continuously for the miracle. Not even giving my likely-broken leg the time of day, I reply. "Riley, oh my god." Finally safe to release the adrenaline, I collapse in a fit of tears, and he simply holds me tight.

When I came back to reality, Denali and Riley were giving me two rather confused looks. "W… what's wrong?" I asked, still quite distracted from the surprisingly sweet ending to the hell that was my premonition.

"You almost looked like you were… happy…" Riley replied. "Like your death ended your stress or something." Denali narrowed an eye at this, looking away from us.

"Okay, that actually wasn't what was going on," I followed, crescendoing at the end of the sentence. I wanted to be careful how I worded my findings, so as not to brew any animosity in Denali. I knew she'd be grateful that Riley and I weren't even fated to die, but she still was, which… could have lead to majorly hurt feelings if not handled properly. As per usual, I spent quite a while thinking of how to word the explanation, and as per usual, I came up with nothing especially helpful, so I bit the bullet. "I saw… I was thrown out of the building, but… I got caught. I… I lived." The idea was even more surprising as I said it aloud, considering how used to watching Death at every turn I'd gotten.

"You what?" Riley asked, jumping forward in his seat.

"That doesn't make sense. How… Why did the car at the gas station trap you then? If you were never meant to die, then… I don't see why it's messing with you instead of me or Riley." Denali placed a hand about her temple.

"Actually…" I started, preparing her for another curveball. "I did say I got caught… it was by Riley. Actually." I smirked then, fearing the face she was sure to make.

Indeed, she did seem somewhere between frustrated and flustered. "Oh," she replied, finally. "So… then it'd be Sakura, Pablo, and then me, right?"

"...I suppose so," I droned back, then letting silence envelop the room.

The deep sound of a heavy glass on the not-so-smooth surface of the table at the bar was low and rather insignificant, but Pablo continued sliding his drink around in a circle, amused.

"Are you having a good time, Pablo?" Georgia asked from across the table. Pablo made a point of continuing to slide the glass for a few seconds before looking up at her. His reply solely consisted of a shrug. "That makes one of us," Georgia giggled.

Pablo's eyes fell to Cyril beside her, who was taking a prolonged swig of his beer to avoid being dragged into another silly debate. Pablo waggled his eyebrows at him, as though to warn him that he had not escaped being part of the conversation. As Cyril's glass descended, Pablo started to open his mouth, but Cyril cut him off quickly. "Steak," he grunted joyfully in a deep, powerful voice. He swiftly sliced a piece of his dinner off and shoved it in his mouth.

"Anyway," Georgia started again. "It's been too long since we all did anything super fun. We should all try to go out tomorrow and… I don't know, do something fun!"

"What did you have in mind?" Pablo asked, tapping at his glass.

Georgia screwed up her face, slipping deep into thought. "Uh… I don't know. We could go minigolfing?"

"It's too late for that," Cyril grunted.

"I said tomorrow, smart guy," Georgia chided.

"I don't know when you were planning on going, but Pablo and I have community service in the morning and chapter in the afternoon." Cyril placed another piece of steak between his teeth, raising his eyebrows at Georgia. She responded by sticking out her tongue.

"Very mature, you two," Pablo joked. Cyril's next action was to hold up a single french fry for several seconds before pelting it into Pablo's chest. "Honestly, I can't take you anywhere."

"Anywho," Georgia chimed, "maybe we can go somewhere tomorrow night. Like… we could hang out in the botanical gardens and watch the stars."

"I thought there was a fire that fuckin' wrecked the gardens. Did they finish redoing it already?" Cyril asked. Georgia surely replied in an excited affirmative, but Pablo had already begun to slip back in time. He was having a flashback of his own.

The weather's immaculate beauty catches Pablo's attention as he walks just behind Denali and Yvonne. Their Calculus professor, for whatever reason, thought the entire class should visit the outdoor "classroom" in the middle of the botanical gardens. Pablo hated to waste any chunk of the class time, but the gentle yellow touch of the sun on his skin is relaxing, and he definitely feels like he needs it right now.

"Come on, buddy; we're losing our precious math time!" Ben calls out, clapping Pablo and Valerie on their shoulders.

"Right you are," Doctor Harrell replies. "But we really don't have much to go over today. I'm surprised you all showed up on a Friday. Well, almost all."

"Ah, so did they," Yvonne responds, pointing into the rows of benches in the gardens. They are rather filled with students of an entirely different class. The professor drones off, and everyone turns to look as Harrell walks up.

"Ah, Mr. Reyns. Sorry; I wasn't expecting you to bring your class here," Harrell calls, brushing a strand of short hair behind her ear.

"No trouble at all," Reyns replies, immediately starting up his lesson again. Jori locks eyes with Pablo, offering a sympathetic smirk. A stiff wind gusts across the gardens, catching him by surprise; he'd expected all the trees to form a windbreak.

"Whoa, goodness," one of Reyns' students says, staring into the trees at an oblique angle. Pablo turns his head to follow the student's line of sight, and sees smoke rising from a short distance.

"Is that a fire?" Valerie asks. As everyone else turns to see, Pablo comes to a quick realization. In the direction of the smoke lies a utility shed for the machine shop, and outside of it sits a fairly large propane tank. He doubts a small grass fire would ignite it, but it was in everyone's best interest to clear out quickly.

Reyns clears his throat, and Lucy stands immediately. "Alright," Reyns starts, "everyone-" He's interrupted by a harsh clang and a puncturing sound, followed immediately by a rather violent explosion. As flames and shrapnel drench the vicinity, Pablo's ears are alight with a chorus of shouts and screams.

The exit pathway becomes everyone's first intended route, which is very unfortunate, considering it is blocked quickly by a falling tree, which is itself alight, quite literally. A couple of students fall beneath it, but some weasel themselves free.

Alas, everything happens too quickly, considering how panicky everyone seems to be. The fires have no counteractive force in the dry gardens, and thus, the students have no escape.

Pablo gasps as his eyes fling themselves open, and he realizes he's still sitting in class in Charleston. No one seems to notice his concern, so he tries to keep his cool.

"Honestly, it's gorgeous outside. Would anyone care to have class at the botanical gardens?" Harrell asks.

"No!" Pablo replies, a bit harshly. "Uh… you can't write on a board if we're there. It's just… bad for math."

Harrell glances at him for several seconds before looking over the rest of the room and seeing that none of the other students really care. With a sigh, she responds: "Fair enough. Let's get started then. Does anyone know if Elrick Caund is planning on arriving today?" The class response is, as expected, mumbly and inconclusive, but Pablo had stopped paying attention. He fires off a test to Jori, practically begging her to keep Reyns' class from visiting the botanical gardens.

Jori's reply comes not thirty seconds later. "Consider it done." Pablo exhales deeply into his hands, rubbing his eyes.

When he opened them, they saw Georgia and Cyril, laughing before him. He glanced down at his watch, transfixed momentarily on the strong lining of the digits. Already 11:04… he thought with a smirk. He'd had a complete, peaceful day for once in his college career. Reveling in his fortune, he calmed himself and joined his friends in their laughter.