Chapter 18

ASHLEY BAOK

Two Months Ago

Sunday

Dear Diary,

Charlie made a quiche last night in a pan. It was pretty good. There weren't any leftovers. Although... I'm not sure how much that really says about us. You know, being that the SFPU is six people... and we all eat an awful lot. If it's edible, someone will eat it. *sheepish shrug* haha. You should see the grocery bills, Diary. My bank account is very happy that the funds from Waverwell government cover all aspects of the SFPU, food included.

Charlie forgot to clean the pan, though.

She got to the kitchen before me. Before everyone else. Which is really quite surprising, actually. She's usually the last one to the kitchen most mornings. I think it's that she needs her beauty sleep, but don't tell her I said that. The dirty look she can give borders on real daggers materializing from her glare. I'd like to live.

The string of curses she snarled could make a sailor blush. You should've heard what she said, Diary. I'm not sure I'd like to write it down. You might get uncomfortable. It was some rather colorful words. I can't say I'd heard some of the word combinations she said, but I suppose you learn something new every day. I'm not sure that's quite what I had in mind for today's learning, but... learning is learning, I guess.

I thought someone had broken in at first. Charlie's voice held an edge to it that has only happened when we're tracking down offenders. Thankfully that was not the case; instead, she had forgotten about the pan and it never got washed. And she was very annoyed about that. Very.

She sulked through breakfast. Ferris was generous enough to offer to clean it for her, but she shot him down. Apparently he wasn't going to 'get her to owe him anything.' Her words. I don't believe she was really mad at him. She got a letter a few days ago that she seemed quite furious about, and I think she was still prickly about that. You should see Charlie when she gets grouchy, Diary. She can, like, fillet you with her words. Wicked sharp tongue.

Don't get me wrong, Diary; Charlie is a great friend. She's kind and loyal, and she will goof off incessantly if you're sad to cheer you up and make you smile. And she will stand up for what she believes in with a frankly absurd amount of courage and dedication. She won't back down. Her moral compass is one of the strongest I've seen.

You know I grew up in Cat's Cradle, Diary. There are some pretty bad people there. Puppet masters with their pawns on taut strings and no heart beating in their chest (I actually might bet real, actual money that if you cut one of them open there would be literally no heart. Like, no sign of a heart at all). A python in the bushes, just waiting for the next unsuspecting victim to walk by. A whispered promise, a distracting gesture, then extra Corvilles squeezed out and a signed document held overhead with threats against friends and family backed by photos and flashed knives. Do what I say or else. Another strung-up pawn.

And I know right and wrong don't fall into neat little black-and-white categories, as lovely as that would be. It's an awful lot of grey, and the definition of what's right depends greatly on who you're asking. The protagonist of a story thinks the antagonist is wrong, but the antagonist thinks what they're doing is right. In the antagonist's mind, they're the protagonist.

But Charlie goes with her heart, and she will follow it until the end of time with a bullheaded stubbornness. As do the rest of the SFPU, to different degrees and in different ways. Zip is far more logical, as is Ferris. And Ren trusts their gut, what their first instinct is about something. It's part of why I pushed so hard for Kristin and I to join. I want to work alongside people who follow their heart, not the biggest paycheck. I want to work alongside people who do it because they love it and believe in what they're doing, not because they're striving to add the next zero to their bank account balance.

Haha. All that talk about Charlie kinda makes it seem like I've got a little crush on her, doesn't it, Diary? Shall I write our initials here? Put a loopy heart around them?

Nah. I don't like her in that way. I like her as a friend, nothing else.

Anyways, Charlie cleaned the pan after breakfast, but the leftover quiche in it didn't come out. Ferris once again offered to help clean it, and she again shot him down. She grumbled while scouring it since the sponge wasn't working and she couldn't use one of those bristly scrubbies —whatever the hell they're called— since it would scratch the pan.

Now, don't get me wrong, Diary. We'd help if Charlie asked; we weren't sitting by and idly twiddling our thumbs and ignoring her requests for assistance. I might've done it, but you know me and dishes don't get along, Diary. I would've done something else to help. Maybe hunt around and see if any Musers had tips or something. AshleyTheMuseAccount won't use itself, you know?

Charlie just wanted to do it on her own.

But when Charlie made some comment that the eggs were dry and kept sticking to the pan, Zip said —with probably the best straight face I've ever seen, Diary— that sitting out all night will do that to eggs.

The room went silent. Like, you-could-hear-a-pin-drop silent. Charlie turned around in movie-style slo-mo with a gaping expression. She just stared for another few moments before doubling over in laughter, and then everyone started laughing. It was I'm-crying-and-my-stomach-hurts-so-much laughter. I don't think Zip realized he'd get that reaction, but he was laughing, too.

You shoulda seen it, Diary. The delivery was... it couldn't have been better. Like, it was perfect. Absolutely perfect. The most nonchalant, flat tone and expressionless face. Like how you might talk about the weather. I can't think of any way it could've been better. Zip's delivery was spot on. I don't think it would've worked if it had been anyone other than Zip. Anyone else, and I think it might've fallen flat.

The pan did get clean. Just in case you were wondering, Diary. It's clean. It's drying on a towel. The eggs were no match for Charlie's determination that the pan WOULD get clean. It absolutely would. She wasn't going to stop until the pan was spotless. I'm pretty sure she started hyper focusing on the task.

Ferris was the last one at the breakfast table, even though he finished first. Probably something about wanting to be there in case she needed something.

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Enough about the quiche situation, though.

I'm going on a supply run tomorrow, so I'll be back on Tuesday. Shouldn't be too big of a supply run, just groceries and a few odds and ends for the camp.

Until next time, Diary

Ashley Baok

Tuesday

Dear Diary,

That was about the world's weirdest supply run.

The bizarrest (yes, Diary. That is, actually, a word. I'm making it one) supply run in the history of Waverwell.

So, you see, it started off fine. Right? Ya followin' me, Diary?

You know, walking around and getting groceries and stuff. No big deal. Just like literally every other time I'm shopping and getting stuff for camp.

But then... I saw this person. I didn't know who they were, but they were standing off to the side in one of the aisles and were acting pretty odd. Their behavior wasn't what drew my attention. They were quite out of it and seemed disoriented, so I thought they might just be drunk or something... But then I saw the rash. That's what drew my attention. I thought perhaps they were sick. I mean, that's my best guess. It was this blotchy, red rash scattered across their skin in clumps, though it looked almost yellow in some places.

It was weird enough that I remembered it.

And it wasn't just there. It happened again.

I didn't have to stay overnight in Moonfall since the shopping list was short enough that I could make it back to camp before it got too dark, so I stopped by Jonathan's Subs to get some sandwiches for dinner. They're quite delicious and require no cooking on our part. Just buy and eat later. Charlie and Ferris were out helping Zip with some Camera Traps, and Kristin was working with Ren and the dogs. No one wanted to make anything, so it was a convenience dinner.

A few people ahead of me at the restaurant, though, I saw someone else. A different person than at the grocery store, but with the same disoriented look and the same rash. They were coughing some, too. Like they had a really nasty cold. That heaving cough like you're trying to hack out something stubbornly stuck in your throat and with an edge of that wet, phlegmy croak.

Perhaps there's some weird flu mutation going around. I thought it was a little early. Winter's not for another few months. But I suppose that's the reason why mutations exist; better help things adapt. Even diseases.

Jonathan's Subs was the last stop on the list and I went home right after. Pocket Forest is a bit creepy at night. Eerie shadows and a certain stillness that feels a bit too still to be entirely comfortable. Spooky, Diary. Bordering on something straight out of a horror story.

I hope those two people are alright. And that they recover smoothly, too.

The SFPU's been pretty quiet lately. Not too many offenders and the hunts to arrest those that have ventured into the off-limits area of Pocket Forest have all been relatively quick. I hope it stays that way; we've had more down time and the forest has had less external stress. A more natural way of running, self-sufficient because it had everything it needs to remain balanced.

I hope things stay quiet, Diary.

Ashley Baok

Sunday

Dear Diary,

Yeah, yeah, yeah. *Insert eye roll*

I know it's been like a month, Diary.

But... I got something juicy that I'm sure you'll want to hear. Very juicy.

At least, I think it's something juicy. So hear me out, Diary. Alright? Ok?

So I was walking around in Dal because the Valleyfield Market is really quite amazing. The biggest open-air market in all of Waverwell, and it stretches for blocks and blocks and blocks. Countless booths selling just about anything you could dream of, impulse buys as far as the eye can see.

Anyway, so I was walking through the market, just wandering around and seeing what was for sale when I overheard some people talking. They mentioned the mines. The ones in Spider Ridge, like probably a five or ten minute walk from Cloverleaf. From the few seconds I overheard, it seemed their concern was over the possibility of the mines collapsing and the entirety of Spider Ridge crumbling.

But it got me thinking. I didn't know what was being carted from the mines. And it was enough to pique my interest so I changed directions and bought a bunch of books. I think I almost filled a shelf. Only a slight exaggeration. But it was a bunch of books. I didn't put them on a shelf, though. I hid them. There's a box under my bed that's covered in wads of clothes that Charlie doesn't know about. I keep you there, too, Diary. It's where I put anything I don't want anyone to find out about. Not even Ren knows about the box, and they pick up on almost everything.

Anyways, you're probably on the edge of your seat, Diary. Dying to know what the juicy thing is, just not literally?

Yeah, I thought so.

The juicy thing is that I went hunting and barely found anything. Hardly a crumb on what's being brought out of Spider Ridge. The only smidge of anything was that SOMETHING was found, but no details as to what.

What I did manage to find was who whatever was mined goes to. And you wanna know who?

Leviathan Inc.

I've heard of them. They've been on the news a bunch with Arkreon. Are-KRAY-yin. Fun to say. Kinda just rolls off the tongue, you know, Diary? You probably don't. You don't have a tongue or a mouth or the ability to speak. Rhetorical 'you know,' I suppose.

But something about Leviathan Inc. rubs me the wrong way. That feeling when the hair stands up on the back of your neck and some little voice starts telling you to be alert cuz something's off. That feeling when something looks nice but just a little too nice, a little too sweet.

If there's one thing Cat's Cradle will teach you, it's that you should listen to your gut and what your instincts tell you. We're all animals. Even people are, too. We've still got those animal instincts hardwired for our survival. Fight-flight-freeze-fawn. Life-or-death situations, and those instincts will tell us what's real and what's not. If you're not in tune with those instincts, Cat's Cradle will ensure you're well-versed in what they're saying. You'll learn, and you'll learn quick. No other way to survive.

I guess that's what my laptop will come in handy for: research. I'll have to research Leviathan Inc. and figure out why something about them sets off instinctual alarm bells.

We'll see, Diary.

I'll let you know

Ashley Baok

Monday

Diary,

I found something. I don't know what to make of it.

Well, I do. I don't think I can quite believe it, though.

I don't think I can tell anyone yet. Not even Kristin. That says something, you know?

I'll have to figure out what to do. I don't know that I can continue putting you in the box beneath my bed any more, Diary.

The book version of Pockets of Gold and Silver just got published under the pen name Caspian Lyon. I hope that'll help keep you safe, Diary. You'll be less noticeable if I put you on my shelves. You'll look like a real book. Caspian Lyon's like a real person and there is a book available for purchase called Pockets of Gold and Silver.

Ashley Baok

I know things I shouldn't, but that's because the truth has been covered up. I cannot yet tell the SFPU, not even Kristin. But I will.

Soon.

My mind is the only safe place, but not even that is entirely secure.

I know things I shouldn't because no one is supposed to know them.

So I will make sure everyone knows, starting with the SFPU.

If everyone is looking away, if no one will hear your voice, then you have to yell. Scream. Shout. Make yourself so visible that they will have no choice but to notice you. Make yourself so visible that they will see you no matter where they look. Make yourself so visible that they will have no other option but to listen.

It might take time. Change cannot happen overnight. But nothing stays stagnant. Nothing stays hidden. The truth will always win. No number of lies can ever change that.

So stand up. Brush the dirt from your pants. Keep your head up high. Hold on tight to the truth, and continue on. Fight for what you believe in and change will come. With truth on your side, you're on the right side of history, so always keep fighting.

Inching is still moving. Just breathing and surviving is still moving.

So take a deep breath and make them listen. Hold your head up high and stick by what you believe in. Always keep fighting for the change you want.

Because change is coming. No one can stand against the truth.

The sun is falling, darkness is coming, and then it will all be nyte.