As promised, here is the second part to my distinctly absurd dream.
Enjoy.
..........
I don't know if you've ever tried taking in your surroundings when you're encompassed by constantly flashing scenery but just for the record--it's pretty fuckin' hard. Not to mention nauseating.
Although, just to give you some vague sense of environment, the gang train--otherwise known as Toothless (after the Night Fury in How to Train Your Dragon)--probably travelled at the speed of light, but it was just slow enough to give its next victims a scare. It didn't have walls--only poles to hold onto--plus a floor, a roof, and the occasional stone-cold bench. Pretty stable if you ask me... Apparently, the purpose of this was to show the public that we weren't afraid of displaying ourselves—that we got a kick out of causing them terror.
Siiiick.
I figured it was nearing 2am--not one light in sight, 'cept maybe the singular crackling bulb that hung loosely from the train's ceiling, giving off a dim yellow glow.
According to Tom, we were headed straight for The Cave. In case you were wondering, The Cave isn't actually a cave--it's a tree, but it goes by The Cave.
Makes total sense.
"How much longer?" I sighed from my spot on the ground.
"Patience, child, patience," Maeve teased knowingly.
I watched as she grabbed onto a pole near the edge of our car, emerald eyes flickering back and forth to the pitch black darkness of the sky.
I noticed how the continuous rocking of the train made her vibrant red hair bounce in its ponytail, tumbling over her shoulder onto a blood red flannel; dark black boots dug their heels into the ground so as to keep their balance, barely hiding the hilt of Maeve's infamous machete.
Emma hiccupped from the bench to my right; wild mane covering her red lipstick and the large green bottle in her hands.
She was wasted.
Brandt, in turn, sat next to her dressed in a dashing black suit, of course, because why wouldn't he?
“I think we’ve got about five more minutes to go,” he said, eyeing his watch before letting his gaze rest on me.
I sighed again.
I sure could go for some ice cream right about now.
The trap door by my foot gave a jerk, so I moved out of the way only to have Sawyer’s fist punch right through the wooden slabs, revealing the three people below.
“Sawyerrr! I told you to stop doing thattt...” Gibb pouted, letting tufts of curls fall into his eyes as he followed the others out of the hidden compartment.
“And I told you not to get in the way,” was her simple retort.
Claire and Sawyer stood up swiftly, dusting themselves off in seemingly effortless badass-ery.
Adjusting the bandana atop her head, Claire suggested we start calling in the others to jump.
As I mentioned before, Toothless never stopped. Not for us or for anybody.
"Zomo! Come on, we gotta go," Tom shouted over his shoulder as he jogged down the stairs followed by T, C, Fonts and Max.
"I know, I know! I'll be right down!" was her fleeting reply.
We heard a quick pitter-pattering of steps before Zoe tumbled down the stairs, tugging her leather coat back on in a hurry.
"We almost there?" Sawyer flicked a purple strand of hair out of her face while looking to Fonts who stood planted by the northern pole (no pun intended--I swear).
"Yeah, just after this next turn," Fonts trailed off, looking ahead as a captain would in his ship.
I watched as everyone (minus Brandt) started to back up to the rear of the car.
Taking note of my perplexed expression, C waved me over. I took a few uneasy steps towards him before he grabbed a hold of my shoulder, looked down, eyebrows raised, and asked, "You ready to jump on your own, kiddo?"
"Um..."
"Here, I'll go with you," Maeve winked, offering a small smile my way.
"See you guys on the flip side," Brandt smirked, straightening his blazer before standing up to get out of our way.
"We'll catch you later, kay, man?"
I'd been told Brandt had to stay; he'd get off somewhere else because his job was to make sure we never got caught. His job was to relocate us if The Cave's location ever leaked. Therefore, Brandt was always on the run.
"For fuck's sake, someone grab hold of Emma," Fonts rolled his eyes, exasperated.
T sighed before making his way to her, clutching one arm in one hand and the green bottle in the other, chucking it to the empty blackness flashing past the train.
"Okay, three... two..."
I became hyper aware of everything around me, especially the moment Tom got to one.
Quicker than wind, each one of them jumped; first Fonts, then C, then Gibb and Sawyer, then Max, then Claire, then T with a disoriented Emma, then Tom and Zoe, and finally Maeve and I.
I remember her squeezing my hand in order for me to get ready.
Holy shit, I'm really doing this, aren't I?
I remember picking up speed as we dashed past Brandt; I remember the moment my foot left the edge of the car--the second my insides turned to absolute mush.
I swear to God, if I don't come out alive--
And then there was the ground. I mean pure forest ground.
Ow.
One by one, I heard the thuds of denim and leather hit the dirt beneath us.
Mostly everyone managed to tuck and roll into a graceful stop, followed by standing up swiftly and dusting themselves off. Everyone minus Emma and myself, that is.
Emma lay in some sort of heap by Tiernan's feet, giggling and hiccuping to herself as she brushed the wild mane out of her eyes.
"C'mon, Em, up you go,"
Claire bent down to grab both of Emma's hands, pulling her to her feet and adjusting the trench coat that was falling off her shoulders.
Meanwhile, I sorta kinda maybe possibly may have landed on my face.
Thankfully, it was too dark for anyone to really notice... heh heh... heh... heh.
It took a few minutes before my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I looked around and the longer I looked, the more confused I was as to where we were.
"Um, guys...?" I spoke timidly.
"'Sup, short stuff?" Fonts turned around to address me.
"Uh... is this The Cave...?" I wondered.
I mean, we were kinda in the middle of nowhere...
"Pfffttt yeahhhh no—we’ve still got about five miles to go, Maya," Gibb laughed, sticking his tongue out at me.
Great.
"Onwards and upwards, bitches," were Fonts's words of encouragement as we trudged through the pitch-black woods.
..........
I must've bumped into about twenty trees within the first ten minutes of our hike before Max huffed in annoyance.
"Claire?"
"Yeah?"
"Flashlight," the blue-haired boss commanded, waiting a few moments as Claire fished through the pockets of Emma's trench coat, pulling out a flashlight.
Claire chucked it to Max, who threw it to me, and we all know I can't catch for shit.
No, it didn't hit my face. I deflected it just in time, thank you very much.
"Nice catch," Sawyer teased, poking me in the side.
"Ha ha, very funny," I rolled my eyes, picking up the small device and switching it on, only to squint at the tiny bright light that protruded from it.
"Haha! Maya's blind!" Tiernan singsonged.
I flashed the light in his eyes for good measure.
It took about ten seconds of awkward silence before C started humming the Pink Panther theme song under his breath, pretending to walk around in the dark stealthily.
It took about ten seconds more before the rest of us caught on.
"Do doo... do doo... do doo, do doo, do doo, do doo, do dooooooooooo..."
Some gangsters they are.
……….
I hated to pull the whiny card, but it was nearing 4am now and my feet hurt and I was tired and hungry and wanted to figure out what this damn Cave thing was.
“Are we there yet?” I grumbled, picking my feet up as if they were anchors, letting the weight of my red converse drag me down.
“Oh, no—we actually passed it a few miles back; we just felt the need to keep walking,” Caellum poked, casually scratching his goatee.
I threw him a glare in the dark.
“C, stop being a dick,” was Tom’s playful retort in my defense.
Thanks Tom.
“I’m just messing with her, Jesus,” C pretended to be highly offended, slapping a hand to his chest.
“All right, settle down, ladies; you’re both pretty,” Max smirked, throwing each of them a punch before going back to leading the way.
Maeve rolled her eyes, and then looked to me.
“Two more miles, sweetheart,” she laughed, patting me on the back sympathetically as I huffed.
“W-We should… we shouldd jusst toootallyy go caaamping right now!” was the first thing I heard Emma say all night.
She raised her arm in the air triumphantly—I don’t know what for—but it clearly made her feel victorious when she started chanting really loud camp songs.
"C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E S-O-N-G song! C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E S-O-N-G song! And if you don't think that we can sing it faster then you're wrong! But it'll help if you sing alonggggg!!!!"
“Emma, stop. You’re intoxicated. Literally, what the fuck are you doing?” Fonts just shook his head.
He didn’t even seem the slightest bit surprised at this behavior.
When the hell did Emma become an alcoholic?
Emma, in turn, shushed him quite dramatically before resuming her campfire song.
“Em,” Zoe let go of Tom’s arm, “Shh, it’s quiet time now, come on,” she urged her sister to walk with her, taking hold of her arm, practically tugging her along as we made our way over some enormous roots.
It was then that we heard the first snap.
Almost instinctively, everyone’s ears—including Emma’s—perked up.
We stopped.
“Nobody. Breathe.”
I watched as the atmosphere dropped to a dangerous mood.
Eyes narrowed to slits and hands started moving towards coat pockets and pant pockets and boot buckles and waistbands.
The moment I saw Gibb pull out a revolver, I was scared shitless.
Damn, my friends are murderers. I forgot that minor detail.
I watched as Claire let loose the flannel tied at her waist, revealing an assortment of knives tucked into her belt.
Sawyer pulled open her leather jacket, taking out the sharpest of a large collection of daggers.
Maeve pulled out her foot-long machete, waiting for the next sign of attack.
Max retrieved something that looked like a whip lined with barbed wire.
Jesus Christ, that thing was scary.
The guys drew a variety of guns out of hoodies, jackets, jeans, and boots.
That left Zoe, Emma and I unarmed.
Well, fuck.
I noticed how everyone’s attention was fixed on Fonts despite the fact that glances were darting everywhere.
His eyes were dark and determined, feet set steadily in a stance that allowed him to move quickly, if necessary.
Another snap.
Weapons were aimed.
I could feel everyone’s breathing match mine and I could almost see the gears switching in their heads.
This was not a game. This was real life.
I felt T tug on my sweater so I stepped half an inch closer.
Another snap. A gunshot. A howl.
It all happened so quickly that it took several moments to register the enormous coyote dead at Tom's feet.
My heart caught in my throat as I stared at the wildly majestic creature, then trailed to Tom's face and I somehow just noticed the old scar that cut across his eyebrow and it all clicked.
"Okay, guys, that was a close call--Thanks man," Fonts nodded towards the redhead, giving him a look of respect.
"We should get going," Max stated, eyeing the dead coyote.
I think pure adrenaline was the only thing that let me walk, or in this case run, any faster.
Unfortunately, no amount of adrenaline will ever make up what I lack in height, so I was slowing down the rest significantly.
It didn't take long for T to say, "Hop on," so with no amount of pride left, I accepted the piggy-back ride that would carry me to our fateful destination.
..........
I can't remember the moment I was let down, but I remember looking up to see something resembling a giant fortress.
"Home, sweet home," Gibb sighed in fake admiration, gesturing towards the treehouse built atop four ridiculously large oak trees.
The trees stood like pillars, forming part of the magnificent structure.
"Welcome to The Cave, little one," C ruffled my hair, causing me to put what little energy I had left into a weak huff of disapproval.
"Awesome possum," I yawned, lifting a hand to rub the sleepiness out of my eyes.
"Aww, is it past someone's bed time?" Fonts sneered patronizingly.
I flipped him the bird, not even bothering to throw another glare.
"Knock it off, Fonts," Sawyer rolled her eyes, making her way over to me.
"Let's get you to bed, love," she said.
I tried to protest but the next thing I remember is being curled up in a corner, a flimsy blanket thrown over me, and the silent whooshing of the breeze outside.
..........
There goes a lame attempt at Part Two.
Emma, I am so so sorry. I honestly could not tell you why my subconscious chose to make you a raging alcoholic. Please don't hate me.
As for the rest of you goobers, I hope you enjoyed and please pester me to write the next part because without your motivation, I wouldn't... Teehee.
Hasta la próxima,
Much love xoxo
Maya
