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63. Paranoid

A running theme in Neil’s life was the tendency for people to call him paranoid. Although he tried to manage himself, the boy in the tattered coat admittedly had a habit of assuming the worst. Some would even call him a pessimist. What other title would you give someone who always expects the worst from any situation that they were in? Kind gestures become deep manipulations, and accidents turned into Machiavellian schemes. But Neil disagreed. He didn’t have a particularly negative view of the world, although admittedly, his opinion of it wasn’t great. Instead, his brain just seemed to identify odd patterns that other people didn’t pick up on. It was like a sixth sense, however, it only worked half of the time. Once he had thought that a man who rung his doorbell was about to break in and hid beneath a couch for an hour. After he found the package he ordered on the porch, he felt a little silly for having such a reaction to the mailman. But occasionally, when all the stars aligned and his intuition was primed, he would be right. It was like there was this tug on the back of his head, warning him of some hidden danger.

But now, as Neil knelt in the center of the control room surrounded by all his friends, that tug had become a desperate pull.

“I-I-I’m sorry, I-I-I’ll do better,” Timothy smiled as he spoke, though it was noticeable how lopsided his mouth was. One side was raised, pushing up his cheek into a cheery expression, while the other sagged, nearly forming a frown.

Slowly, Neil let the contraption on his lap fall to the ground. The alien machine, which moments ago might have served to provide all the answers that they were looking for, was now just a second thought. Its projector-like wheels spun idly in the air, as though it was running an invisible race that it could never win.

“Guys?” Neil said as he stood. “What are you doing?”

The sound of cold metal shuffling through fabric was just loud enough to hear as Sophia unholstered the Blazer from her side. She did so slowly, as though every movement of her body was being calculated. Her fingers gripped the curved, uncomfortable handle with familiarity, but yet it looked like she didn’t have the strength to lift her arm. The gun weighed her down, and her body took a minute to calculate the change in balance. Though, quickly and efficiently, she began to stabilize.

“Soph?” This wasn’t like his friend- she wouldn’t be messing with him like this. “What are you doing with that?”

To answer his question, the girl’s arm jolted upwards and pointed the small barrel of the gun at him. Well, at least that’s what it tried to do. The aim was off, and clearly her grip on the weapon was loose at best. Her hand shook as it swayed, like the cold air in the room was finally getting to her.

Naturally, Neil took several steps back, only then seeing that Alex had been closer than he thought. His suit-clad friend had gathered several long cords which he had pulled taught between his hands. The usual twinkle-eyed looked had dimmed, being replaced by silent contemplation. In fact, judging by the red in his eyes, it almost looked like he had been crying.

“Stop it!” Neil shouted as he raised his arms defensively. “If you don’t want to get punched, don’t come any closer!”

His friends heard his warning and stopped advancing. Timothy, who up to this moment had been slowly making his way over to Neil with outstretched hands, recoiled. Taking a few steps back, he flung himself around and started walking the other way. His half-smile still shone brightly as he slipped out of the two giant doors, headed towards God-knows-where.

Neil’s eyes darted between the two that were remaining. They weren’t moving, only staring. Their bodies shifted ever-so-slightly, like they had an itch they were resisting the urge to scratch. “Speak to me, damn it! What’s happening?”

The two didn’t reply, but their mouths kept moving in rhythmic patterns to continue their silent conversation.

The pull in the back of Neil’s head could have yanked out his brain if it had been real. It was telling him to run as fast as he could- to get as far away as possible. But where would he run? Back in the mouth of the Lavender 9? If he couldn’t run, then he would have to hide. Now it was telling him to sneak away and find the darkest, loneliest corner to scurry under. The monsters he always feared were real now, and he was right all along. Still, he didn’t move. He’d had these impulses so many times before that it would be impossible to count. Each time, after he would pull himself from below a table or out from behind a doorway, he would feel like a coward and a fool. He had to be better. Like his friends always told him, he was just being a scaredy-cat. This situation was no different.

He took a step forward, trying his best not to look as frightened as he really was. “Sophia, can you please put the gun down? Look, I know I can be jumpy, but that’s kinda a messed-up way of getting back at me.” The girl didn’t lower the Blazer, instead her swaying arm began to get straighter. “Alex, put down the cords.”

Alex tilted his head, and for a moment it seemed like the ruse was up. He turned to Sophia, and the two exchanged looks. Then, as if listening to a command, he took a step backward. At first this was relieving, but there is only so much joy you can derive at gun point.

“If I didn’t know you, I would say you were about to shoot me.” Neil let out a hesitant chuckle. “But I know that’s just being paranoid. You would never do that. That isn’t like you. Right?”

He hated to admit it, but a part of him felt like he was lying. Neil had spent months on the ship with Sophia, and in all that time, you get to learn a lot about a person. After all, when there’s nothing else to do, talking is the only alternative. She had told him all about her life. Things like how she hated being a waitress and that time she had accidentally taken off someone’s car mirror. When the days had gotten really dark, she had talked about personal things, too. She made him swear he’d never talk about the stuff she told him, especially the stories about her mother and brother. Of course, he’d promised, but it wasn’t like there was anyone he could spill the beans to miles below the ocean. But now, as the barrel of a gun was aiming at his chest, he realized how little she must know him.

Even after spending so much time alone, Neil had never really told her about what his life was like back home. He’d mentioned little things. The stuff that no one would care to remember but was neat in the moment. She asked him questions and had naturally given him shit when he didn’t provide her with a satisfying answer. Even now, in that stupid game they played, he hadn’t opened up in the slightest. To her, he must be just a scared nobody trapped in the same cage. Was that all he was to everybody? A cellmate?

However, his focus shifted from the weapon up to the person who was holding it. This was Sophia. The girl who had put up such a fight over the safety of a boy she barely knew, and the same girl that shot a man for trying to hurt her friends. He thought of all the times that she had comforted him. Whenever he was afraid, she had taken up the habit of squeezing his hand. While he may never admit it, as he was clearly not one for emotional confessions, it felt like a lighthouse in the dark. They had their disagreements, and maybe he wasn’t as open as he should have been, but they were friends. He gritted his teeth and stood straighter, looking into the eyes of the person that had been his only friend in the cold. His friends would never hurt him, and for once, he actually believed that.

Neil still believed it when she pulled the trigger.

For a brief, pathetic moment, he didn’t accept it. It was like he was telling the universe itself no- that isn’t what happened. It had to be a mistake, or maybe even some type of joke that was going too far. But he was still looking into Sophia’s eyes… and there wasn’t a bit of remorse to be had.

The flash of heat was unnerving, especially within the cold of the Lavender. It was like there was a fire on his body, and it was spreading to every inch of him. He lurched back, perhaps because of his instincts or maybe it was simply the force of the blast. It was like a light switch had flipped in his brain, turning off all his thoughts, feelings, and desires. He watched his sight go blurry. He could barely see Sophia standing there with a faint trail of smoke rising from the barrel of the Blazer. If he allowed it, he knew he could let himself go. Right now, all he would have to do was close his eyes and he could be free of the pain that he knew was coming. Chances are that’s what he would’ve done if it weren’t for the smell.

It was a harsh scent- the type you wouldn’t be able to get out no matter how hard you tried. While starting off faint, it quickly grew to become overpowering. There was a trace hint of ozone, mixed with something farm-like. It conjured the image of an unlucky animal being fried to death by a lightning strike.

Following his nose, Neil did the natural thing to do in this scenario and looked down. There he was, somehow still standing on his own two feet. But there, in the center of his torso, was a charred gap. He realized, all so calmly, that the smell he was detecting was himself- his own sizzling flesh. Trembling, he reached and felt along the wound. His fingers were singed at the touch, and he tried to muffle a cry of pain. But as soon as he got the slightest impulse to make a noise, his entire chest heaved as he let out a short, desperate screech. This was it, wasn’t it? After all this time, this is how he died.

Neil’s vision blurred again, and he felt his body shutting down. An endless sleep was calling him, and he didn’t have to strength to resist its allure. But that pull in the back of his head grew stronger. This time it wasn’t an alarm, or some warning of impending doom. No, the time for that was over. This was the signal to run- the primal need to keep going and survive.

With a painful howl, he forced himself to start moving. It was lucky that he did, because as soon as he took off, another shot escaped from the Blazer’s barrel. It sent a heap of flying sparks soaring from one of the control panels, showering the room in dazzling light. He winced at the noise, but he knew that there was nothing that could prevent another shot. All he could do was move quickly and pray that Sophia’s aim wouldn’t hold true.

In his panic, he had nearly forgotten about Alex and had to dodge out of the way as the boy in the suit lunged at him. The length of cords made an attempt to wrangle him by the neck. Acting quickly, Neil ducked, weaving in between his friend’s arms, just narrowly avoiding being grabbed. It felt like he was falling to the door, and he didn’t even register the sensation of the cold metal as he gripped it to steady himself.

Out of the corner of his blurry eyes, Neil spotted Sophia turning on her heel. Knowing what was about to happen, he threw himself into the hallway. A second later, blast marks appeared in the spot where he had been standing with a flash of electric light. The ground felt sweet against his skin, and he longed to just lay there and rest. It would be so easy to just go to sleep. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about what comes next.

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Not listening to his own impulses, Neil stumbled to his feet. However, he was unable not to notice that he had made quite the distinct mark on the floor. It was like someone had stamped the black-metal material with a line of ashes- his ashes. As he began to run, he realized that he was leaving behind a trail of himself as black bits of charred flesh floated to the ground.

Up until now, the adrenaline pulsing through his veins had kept the pain away, but it was wearing thin. It started as a sting, like the type you would get from a wasp, then grew to a twisting stab. He couldn’t help but scream out in pain as he carried himself limping through the corridor. All he could do was think about something else to distract from it, but there weren’t many pleasant options. It was apparent that he needed help, but no one here was going to provide it. Even if he did find some, he wasn’t sure that it would be enough to save him. Despite this, he kept moving, his mind set on finding the med room as quickly as he could.

That was when he noticed Alex.

The boy in the suit was a good distance behind him, but he wasn’t moving. Instead, he was looking down at the floor at where his ashen trail had fallen. He bent down, scooping up the remains with the tip of his fingers before bringing them up to examine. A curious look spread across his face, and then a smile appeared on his lips. His old twinkle was back in the corner of his eyes, but from a distance, it seemed like the light of an on-coming train.

Neil realized that his idea of hiding wasn’t going to work. He had left breadcrumbs, and others were sure to follow. Even now Alex had stood and was starting to make his way towards him. But what other option did he have? He couldn’t run, and in his state, fighting back would be a death sentence.

Passing the opening where the two Lavenders had joined, he thought about dipping into the other ship. Maybe in the dark he could hide where no one could find him? It was a novel thought, but he knew it was too risky. Anything could be in there, so it was best to stick with what he knew.

Reaching the med room, Neil quickly ran to the cabinets and snatched one of the rolls of honey-colored bandages. It was too big to fit in one of his pockets, so instead, he haphazardly ripped off a large portion and shoved the flailing paper deep within his coat. From outside, he could hear footsteps getting rapidly closer. If he stayed in here, he would be cornered.

Neil didn’t bother looking behind him. He knew that Alex would be there and seeing him wasn’t going to make any difference. Begging his legs to move faster, he felt the hair on his neck raise as the sound of his friend approaching got closer and closer. The idea of turning around and taking a swing was tempting, but in this state, there was no chance he would be able to put up much of a fight. All he could do was run as his eyes darted to a doorway. The ‘San’ room wouldn’t be much help to him, though what other choice did he possibly have?

Quickly, he darted inside. The rows of cleaning tubes greeted him with their usual non-expressiveness. Trembling, he stumbled over to one, his blurry field of view nearly unable to make it out in the haze. His shaking hands managed to pop open the lid as he grunted with exertion. Normally, the machines avoided the effect of being glass coffins. But now, as the pain in his chest rang through his ears like a tornado siren, they gave off the unmistakable feeling of finality. As he took a step into the cylinder platform, he found abruptly found himself flying backward.

In an instant, Neil was on his stomach. He cried out in pain as he skidded across the cold metal floor, leaving clumps of ash behind. Desperately, he tried to crawl away, but a swift kick to the side sent him rolling over to his back. The twinkling eyes of Alex stared down at him with their usual gusto.

“P-Please, stop!” Neil stammered out. “What did I do?”

There was a second where he thought his friend had actually listened to him, but he was quite mistaken. Instead of getting a reply, the boy watched as Alex dropped to one knee above him, and then shoved the other into the sizzling circle in his chest.

Even if you were outside the Lavender, you may have been able to hear the scream.

But soon that scream would be cut short as a line of cords wrapped around Neil’s throat. “Alex?” His last words asked before his airway fully closed.

Pressure. That’s all that he could feel. From the knee that felt like it was smushing his lungs in, to the makeshift rope leaving gashes on his neck. It was like he was a balloon, and all he needed was a needle to pop. He tried to fight back, and his hands reached up, scratching and clawing at the blurred attacker on top of him. But nothing seemed to land. He didn’t even have the strength to cry.

Despite the pain, all he could think of was why? Surely, they had some reason to do this to him. No one does things like this without reason. Revenge? He wondered. Did I do something that they hated me for? Was I too much of a problem? What did I do to you, Alex?

Neil thought they were pals. Well, at least they were on good terms. Despite his theatrics, the boy in the suit was a lot like him. They didn’t really talk about too many personal details. He’d gathered certain things. Tidbits that were enough to satiate his curiosity. Looking back, he wondered if that was on purpose. He wouldn’t put it past his friend to strategically reveal information so that he wouldn’t have to talk about his past. But now, even as he was being strangled, he wished that he knew more.

What did you like to do? Any hobbies? What’s your favorite play?

They say hindsight is twenty-twenty, but now the past would be the only thing he had left. There would be no chances to make a better connection in the future. Maybe, if he had asked all those things, this wouldn’t be happening to him. It was strange. Even though Alex was killing him, he still wanted to be his friend.

But there was no air left in his lungs, and the dim lights were growing darker. His time was up, and this was it. He realized then how much time he had wasted worrying about dying. Now that it was actually happening, he saw that he could have used that time to do anything else.

Possum.

A memory sprung up into his head. A dead animal, on the road. He had picked it up and carried it to the forest. Then it had… it had…

Alex tilted his head, his arms straining as he pulled the cords as tightly as he could. He watched the lights in his friend’s eyes go out and his body steadily fall limp. After a while, it had stopped struggling. There were a few scratches on his arms now from where it had fought back, but the damage wasn’t too severe. After a few more moments, he eased up. As the cords came off, a bit of skin tagged along with them. Around his victim’s neck, a firm line of purple bruises and streaks of blood appeared on the flesh. It was done.

Standing up, he removed his knee from the wound. The pants of his nice suit had become covered in grey ashes, but he didn’t seem to mind. With convulsive movements, he wiped tears from his cheek, and the silent movement of his mouth could have been mistaken as a prayer.

It was quite unexpected when his victim came back to life.

Raising his legs up, Neil used all of his strength to kick out. His strike landed, sending Alex falling backwards inside of the cleaning tube.

Too stunned to realize that he was pushing against the activation switch, the failed attacker watched as the boy swung the lid shut. It didn’t take him long to fling himself upwards and begin banging on his newfound cage.

A vein in Neil’s eye had started to bleed, and his entire body was riddled with pain. He coughed and coughed, struggling to regain air into his lungs. It was like he had been underwater for years, and now the cold, artificial breeze was his reward for coming to the surface. Looking up, he could make out his friend’s hurt face through the glass.

“Don’t you remember me telling you about this?” He wheezed. “The door doesn’t open until it’s done.”

Sure enough, no matter how hard Alex struggled, his container wouldn’t budge. The dancing blue light began its duty, slowly making its way along his clothes. For something so innocent, it seemed wrong for him to be having such a strong reaction. It was like he was a caged animal, biting and clawing at the cage. His fingernails scratched at the door, creating subtle marks along the glass.

Neil’s eyes narrowed. He’s smart enough to know that wouldn’t work.

Picking himself up was like hulling a car to the top of a staircase. Even though he was standing, it felt like he was off balance. The world was upside down and he was right-side up. Though he guessed that was probably because of air-deprivation. It was obvious that he should be running and making as much distance between him and Alex before the door opened. But that tug in the back of his mind was still there, urging him to look closer.

Taking a few steps forward, Neil tried to focus his vision on his friend. At first, nothing was different. He still had all the same features, and nothing was out of place. For a moment, he felt silly. What was he even looking for? Then there was a shift in his soul. There was something very wrong with what he was seeing- a difference so small he could barely notice.

“Alex… what’s that in your eyes?”

He didn’t have time to think about it. A peculiar trait of the Lavender was the way that it carried sound. It practically ricocheted down the circular corridors, with pin-drops becoming echoes. Sometimes, when he was really bored, Neil would play a game where he counted how many times his words would be repeated back to him when he shouted.

So now that he was hearing more footsteps, it was clear that someone was nearby. Hastily, he ducked behind the tube. He knew it was stupid. Surely, whoever was outside would be able to hear Alex banging away in his cage. But he listened as the sound grew closer and then further away.

They had simply walked by.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Neil poked his head into the hall. He nearly had a heart attack when he saw Sophia’s back entering the Bed room. Standing still, he held his breath. It wasn’t very easy for him- being strangled has that sort of effect. His entire body started to shake, and he found that he just wasn’t able to hold on. Then, at the worst possible time, his body decided to twitch. The sharp, jagged motion was enough to twist his wound, and there was nothing he could do to stop from crying out in pain.

His eyes went wide as he realized what he had done. Slowly, he looked up, expecting to see the barrel of the gun pointing in his direction. Instead, all he saw was Sophia firmly making her way in the other direction. How didn’t she hear me?

It wasn’t like him to waste an opportunity, so he made his escape. The familiar corridors were easy for him to traverse, seeing how he had done so millions of times. But his body was failing him. The sweet call of sleep was pulsing through his ears, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to ignore it for long. He needed to get somewhere safe, but no such place existed.

Wait. He thought. Maybe there…

As Neil passed by the place where the two Lavenders had connected, he neglected to give the giant mirrored hall any attention. If he had, he may have seen Timothy coming. Instead, the only warning he received was the briefest shuffling of a yellow sweater as his attacker made a move.

Instinctually, he twirled around, catching a glimpse of a long, metal pole. He’d never seen anything like that in his Lavender before. It was short, kind of like a pipe, and each end was brittle, as though it had broken off of something. In the blur of panic, the boy in the tattered coat tripped, falling to his side in an ashy heap.

Neil didn’t bother looking up. He could guess what came next.

This time, it made more sense to him. Out of everybody, Timothy had the most reason to do this. You don’t accuse a guy of murder and expect there to me no hard feelings. He had tried to make it better, but now it was clear that the reassurance that all was fine was just an elaborate lie. Of course, Tim hated him, and this was just his way of returning the favor. But it still felt wrong. Yes, Neil had only known him for a week or so, but he was just starting to feel that he could trust him.

That was his first mistake.

He closed his eyes. There was no more strength left to fight back with. The only thing he could hope for was that the first strike would knock him out. It would be terrible to feel it all.

Neil twitched as he felt something touch his head. But the blow wasn’t hard. In fact, it was rather soft. Confused, he allowed himself to peek at what was happening.

Timothy was hitting him with his hand- not the pipe. He was doing it over and over, like he was… petting him?

Sitting up, Neil couldn’t help but give his friend the strangest of looks. “Tim… what are you doing?”

The boy replied with a lopsided smile, his mouth muttering something incomprehensible.

“Um…” For some reason, this was slightly more concerning to Neil than the attempted murder. Slowly, he got up and backed away. Timothy only stared at the place where he had been, still petting the air like he hadn’t moved at all. “What the fuck?”

Stumbling through the rest of the ship, the boy in the tattered coat reached his destination. As quickly as he could, he popped open the door of the private room. It was hard to tell if it was the darkness of this place, or his failing eyes that were responsible for his lack of vision. Quietly, he sealed the room shut behind him, immediately falling to the ground.

In his last moments of consciousness, he reached into his pocket and retrieved the bandages. He didn’t know if he was correctly wrapping them around his wound or not, but the searing pain made him guess that he was close. There was no way of knowing if they would even help. It might be like putting a band-aid on a missing leg. But, as his eyelids fluttered shut, he could only trust that he would be waking up again.