SAVE POINT 109
Loading A Lot of Muchness...Reloading Cockroach Infestation...55.77%
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1150839992420147261/8faeb44d-3006-4163-ac42-f9ae715323fd.png][https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1150839991610650624/62bec295-036c-4ff4-9b84-29c315cc9f82.png]
Rosabella
"I'm trying not to panic," Dormouse wheezes, clutching at his chest and laying his back against the door, gulping air, like the barricade of wood saved his life.
"Well, you're doing a piss-poor job of it," Joy counters sourly, eyeing the kid with annoyance.
Mimi tries to wave the pink-haired girl off the boy, "Hey, give him a break."
Their voices all jumble together in the Victorian-styled room, echoing up to an ornate, tray ceiling. Shoulders hit shoulders as we wedge behind the closed door. A uniformed elbow jabs into my stomach. Hot breath warms the back of my neck, making me want to dodge away further. There's too many of us for this area between the wall and the backs of several hefty, wood chairs. The darkened space appears to be a conference room. A giant, oak table stretches rectangular corners to the nearly parallel lines of the room, and a projector unit hangs from the ceiling. But the most important thing is that the bugs haven't found this room yet—the cockroaches.
I shiver.
They'd come out of nowhere. There'd been so many that it'd looked like the floor had come alive in rippling, black waves. I'd thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. Even though the shelter and subway in New York were sometimes crawling with them, I've never seen this many up-close. Yes, it's flat out gross, but Dormouse is having the toughest time of this. I watch as the kid brings both knees up to his chest in one of the wood chairs. Shoved in a ball like that, even the lanky kid can barely fit in the slim space between table edge and chair back. His lower lip trembles as his eyes scan the carpet beneath the thick, wooden legs. A wave of his dark hair flops over his eyes which he blows back. He looks like he feels a little safer in here than outside.
...Guess he hasn't thought about the space between the bottom of the door and the floor yet...
"We did good," Mimi tells Joy, as though to reassure herself; her freckles stick out starkly on her pallid face. "We followed protocol and secured the asset—"
"To be honest, I'm not really comfortable being called that," I interrupt, crossing my arms over my chest like the teenager I'm usually not allowed to be.
"To be honest, I don't care," Joy shoots back, "Sit down while we figure this out."
She shoves me in the nearest chair. The hard back hits my spine, and I'm left mulling over the fact that no one has probably ever accused the pink-haired girl of caring; she's like a porcupine on a bad day.
'Asset'.
'Asset' sounds like gold or silver or something behind glass in a museum somewhere.
'Asset', my ass. I want to be in on whatever is making shadows play through Mimi and Joy's eyes.
"Can I be the first to say it? This is definitely more than a bug infestation. They're moving in linear patterns," Mimi states, "Dormouse, can you figure out through the code if this is magic?" She turns imploringly, and a little flustered, towards the dark-haired boy. Ever-calm and collected Mimi is frazzled? This can't be good—
"Magic bugs?" Dormouse mumbles as though to himself, rocking back and forth—really he looks like he should check himself into a mental facility—"filthy creatures. They were—they were all over the place! All over—"
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"Dormouse, focus!" Mimi snaps her fingers in front of the dork's face.
"Get a hold of yourself," Joy scoffs, not bothering to hide her contempt, "I'm embarrassed for you."
"Magic bugs," Dormouse whimpers.
"I know," Mimi coos, rubbing a comforting hand on his back, "Dormouse, can you see it in the code if you look? You know, can you see if someone created them?"
She is being way too patient with him; maybe they were made for each other. The nerd nods, his eyes going from blurry to clear. He props himself up, sliding downward in the chair and into the first normal posture he's assumed since being in this room.
The kid wipes his nose with his sleeve, "Yeah, err, I could check."
"Okay," Mimi continues to rub his back as his spindly fingers work in the air to bring up the code interface.
...But I can't help it; my eyes dart to observe Joy's critical face as she watches their interaction. Her eyes narrow in cringing abhorrence. "Mimi, you are way too good for him," she raises hand, circling the pair of them in the air, "whatever this is should be illegal—"
"Can you stop overanalyzing other people's relationships and stick something under that door?" Mimi hisses, lowering her voice on the last few words as Dormouse's gaze sharpens in alarm and darts to the door she gestures at. You can see the light from the hall leaking through the space; I wonder if it shortens everyone's breath the way it's shortening mine.
"I'll help you," I offer at Joy, all too happy to slide out of my seat and do something—sitting still is killing me.
"Here," I reach towards a skirted table I hadn't noticed along the rear wall, grabbing up a few of the water bottles that have been lined up there for what looks like events.
"Can you get the tablecloth too?" Joy asks, accepting the armload of water bottles and still pointing for more.
I nod.
My fingers close over the dense fabric of the table-skirt and pull. It rips off with a Velcro sound, and, there I have it, old-fashioned pleats like a skirt, there in my hand.
"This looks like someone's bad graduation party," I murmur to Joy as I hand her the dusty fabric.
"Or a job fair," she counters sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
That makes me chuckle, "Oh, definitely."
But, in my mind, I'm counting down—the minutes.
Seconds.
I can't help it. How fast do bugs move? How long till they find us, and what then?
Where is everyone else hiding? And, if this is the work of magic, what does that mean for all of us?
"Rosabella—"
"What?" I start, jolting out of my head to find Joy gaping at me. "What?" I demand again—slightly more aggravated this time when I can't figure out the reason for her look. But she just...blinks at me...at my hands. I look down, confused and realize that the water in the water bottles in both of my fists is now red.
Not clear.
Blood red.
"Guys?" the pink-haired girl's voice is a wavering whisper.
"Am I going crazy?" I ask, my voice hitching and clogging in my throat, "This was clear—water—seconds ago, right? Water?" I shake the bottles at Joy who nods 'yes'. The expression on her face is absolute bewilderment mixed with...fear?
What is going on—
Beep.
A blue box system message flashes into view for each of us. I stare at mine, reading the words with careful slowness:
Roses are red, and, trust me, I'm blue.
Turns out I have a little surprise for you.
The roaches are an upgrade from locusts, don't you think? And Hi-C is just so much more 'me' than blood.
C you around.
I"M COMING FOR YOU, ROSABELLA.
"Rosabella," Mimi's voice shakes as she swipes her message out of view, "What does the water smell like? Uncap it."
I'm too shocked to do anything other than follow the girl's instructions. I twist off one of the caps, leaning in to smell the liquid. And my face twists because—
"It smells like...fruit punch," I tell her.
And the freckled girl's lips press into a thin line. "Hi-C," she corrects, "Dormouse, stop your search in the code. This is definitely magic. Rosabella's being targeted."