I stride over to the seat my friends are at in the fast food restaurant, moving as if I didn’t just get a bomb blown up in my face. Thank you alien symbiote.
When I walk in I’m greeted not just by the smell of grease emanating from the kitchen, but also a bear hug from Carissa whose puffy eyes tell a story by themselves. She’s holding on tight, the same horror that plagued me also poisoning her.
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” I whispered, rummaging my hand through her hair to reassure her of my presence. Zhen Rong waved at me from the table awkwardly, giving me a lengthy gaze. HIs burger had been nibbled on slightly, a far cry from the usual beastial bites he takes. I order my food as quickly as I can, not wanting to be separate from them any longer.
Before I can even take a bite of my food, Carrie makes us all take a selfie together for her social media update, her way of telling everyone that we’re okay after we were in a danger zone. It doesn’t take long for the hearts and replies to come in.
“Lots of people were replying to my story at Santosa asking if we were okay, so I figured this I should let everyone know we’re good!” She explained as I began to chomp on my spicy chicken sandwich. Carissa treated her social media accounts as an online diary. While that lack of privacy would frighten me, she seems comfortable setting her account to private and posting her heart out. Most days out I spend with her have some digital footprint on her account now, and I don’t really mind it, it’s always fun to look back on these moments.
We sit and eat, fidgeting in our seats restlessly.
“So, nice weather.” Zhen Rong says nonchalantly, casually sips his Sprite.
“There was a freaking bombing at the beach!” Carissa bursts a little too loudly, causing some nosy customers to turn their heads and stare at us. But given the news stories out there, no one’s going to make a fuss about someone being that scared.
“Do you guys know or have any idea who did it?” I ask stupidly. Why would two random teenagers know anything about the inner mechanisms of this psycho’s enigmatic mind? Carissa shakes her head and sounds out a ‘nope’, taking a bite of her fish burger whilst Zhen Rong shrugs, which were the answers I was anticipating.
“Some people out there sayin’ it’s the Salamander Man.” Zhen Rong cooly says, his piercing brown eyes staring dead into mine, like they’re trying to fish out information through staring. He dips two fries in ketchup and wolfs it down.
“Do you think so?” I try to act casual, taking a sip of my drink. Tension presses down on my shoulders, bolting me down to my seat. I wriggle uncomfortably, like a worm on a fishing hook.
“Rose, you ask me I ask who? I don’t know, I don’t think he’d do it, I guess.” His thumbs fiddle with his fries, clearly not entirely comfortable with the response he gave. Carissa, ladylike as always, tries to speak through a mouthful of processed meat and unholy amounts of mayonnaise on the sandwich. Zhen Rong and I looked at each other for a moment, then looked back at Carissa, unsure of what she said. Our favourite sweetheart swallows, then speaks again.
“What I said was, it can’t be him! He’s a good guy! And good guys don’t bomb beaches! He saved a bunch of people. Why would he save people if he was trying to hurt them?”
“Maybe it’s like, he planned it? Like, try to make himself look more like a hero.”
“You think he faked it?” I ask, letting a little bit of irritation slip through.
“He wouldn’t do that! He’s… he’s a hero… right?” Carissa asks timidly, her faith in the Salamander wavering. I bit my tongue, not wanting to say anything more that would potentially give away my identity. She plays with her purple heart necklace, as if rubbing it would bring hope back into her.
“We don’t know if he’s a hero, Carrie. He could be some alien, maybe it's not even a human eh, maybe it’s not even the same guy all the time. Maybe there’s a few of them?” Now we’ve entered full conspiracy territory and everyone at the table knows that. The tension between us breaks completely, and instead an echo of laughter rings through the restaurant. Truth be told, it’s nice to not have a conversation about the Salamander go immediately into “he’s a terrorist and menace to society”.
“Well, he saved everyone, right? That’s what the news says. And they don't even make public appearances so he can’t be in it for fame and fortune, yeah? Maybe they’re just a good guy. Or girl. We don’t know.” I say, hoping my bias doesn’t seep through. Both of them nod, Carissa with far more enthusiasm than Zhen Rong.
“Wow, I never even considered he might be a girl!” I wasn't particularly offended when I heard Carrie say that, but there was a part of me that winced.
“Hey, it’s the 21st century, scary lizard superheroes can be women too. Kinda sexist, Carissa.” Zhen Rong scolds jokingly. I snicker a little, noticing him looking at me for approval.
“Nooo! I’m a girl too! It’s just that like, the Salamander Man looks so… boyish. Right?”
“Can’t women look boyish too sometimes?” I asked in hushed tones, like it was a dirty secret or something shameful to even ask.
“Yeah but like… he’s all flat and lanky… he looks like a guy, right? Like uh, Rose you’ve been wearing more skirts and dresses recently right, could you imagine the Salamander Man, if they’re even a person, dressing like that and stuff? Y’know?” She asked, laughing a little.
The oozy skin that embodies me changes my physical body quite a bit, including binding my chest. To contrast that, I started dressing in more feminine ways to throw people off the scent. Just in case, right? But it still rubbed me the wrong way that it fooled people at all. The Salamander could be a girl, who says she couldn’t?
“Okay, but really, it doesn’t matter if they’re a guy or girl, what matters is that the Salamander… person is here and he’s a hero!” Carissa said, lightening the mood. A smile crept up onto my face, despite the unpleasant tingle in the back of my head. Okay, they don’t think the Salamander could pull off a skirt like I could. Doesn’t matter, helps my secret anyways. It’s fine. It doesn’t bother me.
‘You know, there’s a fair chance we can wear a dress simply to prove them wrong. Though we’d probably ruin it due to the environmental hazards of the job.’ My smile widens at Sol’s attempt at a jest.
“We’re happy you’re safe, Rose! When we lost you, Zhen Rong totally freaked out.” Carissa said with a giggle, hand caressing mine. The recollection of her puffy eyes and red cheeks that welcomed me when I first arrived floods my mind. Clearly, Zhen Rong losing his cool over me was only half the story. I couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes, feeling the guilt build its chains around my heart.
“I did not!” He exclaimed, his burning red cheeks telling me everything I needed to know about the statement. “You were too! And it was for legit reason what! There were bombs, she’s my friend, I wanna make sure she's okay right?” He argued, hand now holding mine. The grip is nostalgic, making me want to stay attached to him until the end of time. I take time to appreciate the serene embrace of hands, the spark that comes when two palms touch one another. He doesn’t seem to notice it, but I sure do.
“Uh, yeah, I’m fine! Seriously, I’m okay. I was seriously lucky that I wasn’t there when it started, I could evacuate quicker!” My lie is met with positive feedback. Carissa hugs me from the side and Zhen Rong flashes a smile, and we return to our regularly scheduled friendship of bad jokes from him and fun anecdotes and stories from her, with me sprinkling witty banter and one-liners in between. For a moment, I completely forget that someone out there knows who I am underneath the symbiote skin.
After that reprieve from reality, it’s time to go home. Carissa and I take the same train back home, whereas Zhen Rong can take the bus. So in our privacy, we get our jovial girl time. Though today, she’s extra insistent about teasing me about him. I guess it’s a coping mechanism to avoid discussing literal terrorism that just happened before us. I wouldn’t wanna talk about it either.
“Your face gets all red when he compliments you!”
“It does not!” It totally does.
‘It totally does, Rose.’ Sol echoes in my head like an annoying voice recording.
“Tell him how you feel already! You guys broke up a long time ago, maybe now things are different! Look, he say no, you a bit sad, like last time I’ll be there for you when you cry! This time, I won’t call him… all those things.” She blushed a bit as the two of us reminisced on the choice words she had for Zhen Rong during the initial breakup.
Prior to that, I didn’t realise those words were in her vocabulary.
“Seriously, the worst that happens is you’re a bit sad okay? Try it out!” She pats me on the back encouragingly and all I can do is try not to think of his hand gripping mine.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Carissa’s stop is a bit before mine, so she gets up to leave before she can push the matter any further. She slyly smiles at me when leaving the train carriage, blowing a very mocking kiss through the air before the doors shut. I bury my face in my hands, retreating back to the Salamander Cave. Also known as: my brain.
‘As someone who can feel what you feel, I suggest addressing these feelings before you combust.’ Sol says to me, his normally stoic voice having a hint of panic in it.
‘How strong are “these feelings” anyways, Sol? To you, anyways.’
‘To me? These are some of the most powerful feelings I’ve felt. It’s overwhelming. As if I could vomit at any moment you feel these feelings.’
I sigh. My symbiote, that comes from a planet of alien salamanders who control fire, that can attach itself to a human and make them superhuman, also finds love to be as sickening a feeling as I do. Maybe that’s a little strong of a word, but love makes me so stupid. Stupid daydreams, stupid actions, stupid thoughts, stupid stupid stupid. I hate that emotions can get the better of me so easily. In the face of the patented Power Of Love, the rational part of my brain waves a white flag back and forth pathetically.
‘Back to the matter at hand. If whoever’s after you does know who you are, it stands to reason they may know who your friends are.’ Suddenly, Sol has switched the conversation entirely, their voice firm and contemplative. They seemed to have been waiting the whole afternoon to tell me this.
‘True, but what about it?’ I asked dumbly.
‘You're not the one in danger, are you? You are invulnerable to most attacks, you’ll be fine. But have you considered that our little friend may go after someone like Carissa? Or your family?’
My gaze was locked on my shoes, barely listening in on the announcements informing us which station we were at. I looked up to check and I had missed my stop.
I had considered that, I just didn’t want to think about it. It was a painful idea, cutting everyone else out of my life to save them from the potential of danger. I didn’t ask for these powers, I don’t deserve to have everyone removed from my life just because they may get in trouble for knowing me.
The unease bubbling inside myself was an indicator that Sol was debating on that thought in private, whether or not that was the right thing to do. That feeling travelled to me via osmosis, the hairs on my arms standing to attention at the moral ambiguity of having friends.
I tried to avoid thinking about the consequences of that, hoping whoever this person was would tunnel vision in on attacking me rather than my loved ones. A chill ran down my spine as I imagined Carissa, or Zhen Rong, or Ma and Pa, or Gor caught in the middle of this mess because they were associated with me.
‘I have considered it. That’s why I need to keep my identity a secret.’ I reply, as if that’s enough. ‘Besides we don’t know if they know who the Salamander is, maybe they’re just making a guess-’
‘Rose, you cannot try to convince yourself of lies when you already know the truth.’
Being honest hurts. A lot. It meant coming to the conclusion that I am putting my loved ones into harm's way, knowing I’d be fully at fault if anything happened to them. It means having to face the reality of the situation: that because the Salamander is a target, and this person knows me, that means my loved ones are going to be an inevitable target. My loved ones’ safety is now utterly my responsibility.
‘Okay, I get it lah. I get it.’ More stressed than ever, I make my way off the train and back home. ‘But what should I do about it?’
‘I recommend spending time with your loved ones.’ A strange air of regret emerged as they spoke. A wave of melancholy ran through my body, moving like a man on his way to the electric chair.
‘You never know if they will be around for much longer.’
The sudden focus on mortality is abrupt, unwelcome, but not unneeded. I know frighteningly little about my opponent, I know they’re destructive and after the Salamander, which by extension means they’re after me and my close friends and family.
I rub the temples of my head, not wanting to get off and change to the right train to get home.
My mind shifted from stress to regret, wondering how I could have changed the past to save everyone from myself. I thought I did a good job hiding who I was. No one outside my close friends would notice any physical enhancements I underwent in the last year, but I tried to throw them off the scent too.
I switched up my dress style to far more feminine styles, hoping to use some preconceived notions of sexism to hide the fact that girly Rose was the manly Salamander Man hunting down criminals in the dead of night, which obviously has worked uncomfortably well on my closest friends.
I brought no purposeful media attention to the Salamander, travelled all over New Singapura to stop crime to keep my location ambiguous. Hell, the first crime I ever stopped, a drunkard getting handsy with a woman who clearly was not consenting, was all the way in the east of the city, when I lived in the west.
Now, I had to try and deduce who it was, but it’s not like I had any enemies in school. Even if I did have enemies like in those teen comedies, they wouldn’t be ‘domestic terrorism’ levels of threat, would they? A teenager with that level of destruction? It’s nearly comical. It can’t be Zhen Rong and Carissa-
‘Unless they’re covering it up.’
‘Right. But still unlikely. Like come on, it’s them.’ I argue back, the notion that my best friends are dangerous arsonists is too nonsensical. I couldn’t imagine the guy who first kissed me trying to kill me, nor the friend who loved the environment so much she’d never even dream of blowing it to smithereens.
‘Looks can be deceiving. We have to be on guard.’ I hate it so much when Sol is this blunt, makes running from my problems far harder.
But let’s say it isn’t them. What about people who hate the Salamander? Like Ashen? But Ashen’s not crazy that way, I’d hope. He’s competitive, he’s desperate to prove himself, but he’s not a terrorist. Gor hates the Salamander too, disagreeing with his methodology and the breaking of the law. But there’s no way he commits attempted murder just because of political views, right? He’s such a boy scout, he follows rules to the letter. And I can’t even imagine my parents being terrorists, or the drama kids.
My thought process was shortly interrupted by the buzz on my phone, all a result of my brother spam messaging the family group chat with news articles of the beach attack. In my haste and reluctance to dwell on the event, I put away my phone before being confronted with a headline that broke me.
‘4 KILLED IN EXPLOSIONS AT PANDAN BEACH’
The colour from my face drained as I clicked the link and read the article. Pictures of the aftermath flooding my screen, charred slippers strewn across the sand with police tape around impacted areas. But what set me off was the idea that people died, when I knew that couldn’t have been true. I sensed everyone’s heat signature and tracked everything I could find.
I saved everyone.
But no. There were casualties, multiple sources indicated.
No one knew who started the attacks. It was definitely foul play, scraps of metal were found as debris from the bombs itself. This was someone’s handiwork. No current suspects. No leads.
But that didn’t matter.
What matters was that people died today.
But they couldn’t have. I saved everyone.
‘I thought we checked for everyone! How did we miss people! How did we let those people die?’ I asked fiercely, needing an explanation from Sol. I used my heat sensing ability, how did I miss out people?
‘We can only sense the heat signature of living beings. Rose, it is likely they died in the intial blasts before we could transform. I’m sorry.’ They said apologetically. I didn’t realise how aggressively my leg was bouncing until I looked down and realised everyone had shifted away from me because of the tremors I was producing.
‘Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? Wh-’
‘What could we have done? If we can’t sense them, they’re dead. Nothing more can be done about that, Rose. We saved who we could save. You saved who you could save.’
There was a darkness that dripped from those words. They weren’t hiding anything from me. They also couldn’t have known. They didn’t know either.
It’s not about them. It’s not about Sol. It’s about me. I couldn’t save those people.
My vision became a daze as I walked out of the train, my body on full autopilot as I mechanically navigated my way home. Ethereal heart wrenching screams of victims I couldn’t save submerged my mind.
Any feeling of triumph I once felt about today had been completely eradicated by the jeering in my head, voices screaming and clawing at me. The images of blasted corpses reanimating, gripping onto my shirt and dragging me down to the floor where I failed to pick them up from. These martyrs look at me with hollow eyes, grasping at my shirt and moaning for help desperately. The voice of failure now takes on a ghastly whisper and asks the question I can not answer, before they collapse to the ground in a blaze of sadness
Why didn’t I save them?