Carlos did as he planned. Minimal activity in the world today, in all honesty. Kind of quiet. The teachers seemed to be in a confused bind. More paperwork than usual, he figured.
When he returned to the shed and heard the noises from inside a new feeling arrived in him. Another one? How many of these exist and how long before one of them takes me out? This one was like when he was running but not for fun. Running from something. He felt that was what he needed to do. Simply, he chose not too.
Firm hand, the way he'd done to the boys chest just a few hours earlier, against the wood of the door. It opened with a gust of wind.
The guy inside was thrashing things on the ground. He'd found a bunch of items. Tools, fabrics, he'd even managed to get some water in here. IS THAT A FIRE?
PAnIc as Logan looks up at the intruder.
"Don't speak!" He spits, "I don't know where the Hell I am but it's not where I was yesterday and a lot of fucked up things have happened to me so I don't want to hear you- what ever you are- say shit to me. It'll be meaningless anyhow. The people here are fucking insane."
"You're bleeding." Carlos chooses to ignore the orders. That's how this works. That's how he plays the game.
Then it happens. The thing. That which terrifies Logan the most. His head spins and his eyes widen like he's wild.
"Did you hear that?" He asks.
Carlos shrugs, "Hear what?"
That sound, like a bunch of people are... laughing.
"I always do. Everyone does. What are you new?" He sneered. This guy isn't pissing in his food why does Carlos feel this fury? It's just words.
Then Logan seems to ease, "You were the one who got me off the road."
Eclipse. Like the mist on your face on the start of a new morning. This is weird. No one has the power right now. No one's in control. No one's ever in control but here it's like there's no control to be had. Relief. Carlos is frightened, why is everything so different. He doesn't like it. It hurts. No one's face is covered in shit right now. No reason to laugh and so why does the laughter get even louder and how does he make it stop.
Then he remembers. There's no laughter when he's touching this boy. So he gets closer.
Logan doesn't back away but he doesn't lean in either. He remembers a line in the second chapter of the Hunger Games that states how the people of district twelve did something to represent that they did not approve. Broadenly make aware that what was taking place was wrong. They did not condone. How? Their silence.
Carlos pulls the bag off his shoulder and reaches into the opening zipper to unvail the supplies he picked up today. He doesn't know what to do with them but Logan might so he sets them down on the ground between them and waits. He will do what he always does to avoid being the joke. He will be silent.
Logan furrows a brow. Slowly he presses himself down on the fabric and reaches over to pull the supplies closer. He has everything he needs to get the rod out of his leg and stitch up his wounds. Then he's examining the wound and fear surfaces on his face. He whispers to himself as though Carlos is no longer there, "I can't see the alignment. I can't do the procedure if I can't see the alignment."
All the glass mirrors in the shed have a nasty oily tinge and nothing can be seen in them anymore.
The laughter's back. Where the Hell is it coming from? How can they both hear it?
Carlos gets down on his knees, something only bottoms and bitches do, but he's fighting the cackle and inching closer to offer something real. Help.
"What can I do?" Said Carlos. Which is frightening because the last time someone asked that question he had the luxery of watching them take on the entire football team at once and she was never the same.
Logan shuddered, "How? How can you be different?"
"You look at me the way Mr. Fron looks at the frogs we dissect in biology. Why?" Carlos wants to stop talking but he can't he's waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Logan takes a deep breath and realizes maybe it's possible, "I am unsure what happened between today and yesterday but this time yesterday I was not in a place like this. I didn't hear laughter, no one did. No one was constantly being humiliated. No one spoke the way people have been speaking to me. Given I've only ran into a frat house and an angry officer. I know something is wrong."
Then he reaches up to grab his cell phone off the night stand beside the couch. He scrolls through his gallery and finds a video and presses play.
Carlos wants to look away but he can't. A baby pig, a puppy, and a chicken are all hanging out on a back road and there's upbeat music in the background. He expects a car to splatter their remains over the road and he'll have to force himself to laugh but it doesn't come. Instead there's a cute, gleeful childs voice singing some song about how they were best friends and the videos over. No jump scares. No naked photos of Drake Parker's mom. Just a video that made Carlos smile a warm fuzzy smile and he's looking into the eyes of this boy he thought was dead yesterday and wanting so badly just to touch him so he repeats himself, "What can I do?"
Logan opens the camera on his phone and hands it to Carlos. "Just show me the entry wound, if you would."