Trees. Trees. Everywhere, trees. The voice of God still rings in my head, spouting a resonating prophecy of my inevitable doom. I try to ignore it, but it’s becoming too loud, and even squeezing my hands over my ears can’t stop the reverberating word.
“Death. Death. Death.”
As the words finally recede into my memory, I’m able to better grasp the situation at hand. I’m laying on the forest floor, I’ve found. I vaguely remember collapsing as the voice tore my mind to pieces. I try to remember what I was doing before this, but I can’t seem to recall.
‘World reverted,’ I think to myself. That’s what the voice had said. I turn to gauge my surroundings, only to find nothing but my original observation— trees. To be fair, there’s bushes as well. That, a few knee-high plants, and a bunch of rocks. But scanning harder, I finally see figures in the midst; people, evidently just as confused as I am. In their delirious state, I can hardly call them awake. They all seem stuck in a daze, unable to fathom what’s happened to us.
This is what the Earth looked like before humans. The air seems so pure, at least compared to the city smog I’m used to breathing. The trees are vibrant and full of life. If I hadn’t known my entire prior existence has been destroyed, I might actually be in a state of bliss. But... we do know that our entire prior existence has been destroyed, therefore bliss is a far cry from our reality.
A single scream is enough to invoke a mass panic among the collectiveness of the stranded humans. Aimlessly running around, they claw at each other and scramble for any remnant of the old world. They really can’t accept the hand they’ve been dealt. They’re really annoying.
“Alright, Alright— Hey, e— ev.... HEY! EVERYBODY SHUT THE HELL UP!!!” I scream. “QUIT YOUR BITCHING AND GET THE HELL OVER HERE!”
The panic stops, at least for most people in earshot. My voice had carried further than I thought; something about sound waves traveling faster in a more oxygen-rich environment— but then again, I’m no scientist.
Standing on a rock cluster, I wait until enough people show up to continue. I already regret opening my stupid mouth, but it’s way too late to even have a choice at this point.
“Alright, listen up!” I shout. “You all heard that thing, right? The voice?”
A few murmurs, but I can tell their overall answer is that they didn’t. That means I sound really crazy now.
“W-Well, look here!” I say. I point a finger. “See that there? It’s a hill. A damn big one. Look familiar? Well it should, ‘cuz it’s OURS.”
They don’t look like they’re catching on.
“Aww, come on! Don’t you idiots get it?! We never went anywhere! This is still our world!” I pause. “I don’t know what the hell happened, but somehow... our world’s clock was rolled back. Everything except for us! Some kinda god’s rage, some kinda temporal rift— It doesn’t fucking matter! So suck it up and quit your complaining!”
I’m sure they were expecting some kinda stupid-ass ‘let’s come together’ speech, but I’m not one for speeches, nor do I give the slightest amount of shits towards the idea of unity. Instead, I say:
“For those of you who’re done fucking around in the woods, follow me and we’ll do... something, I dunno. Night’s gonna come along sooner than later, and I can guarantee you aren’t gonna want to be out here alone when that happens. So, follow me or don’t, but quit the goddamn screaming. Seriously.”
They say like it or not, pessimism’s what makes the world go ‘round. And well, at the very least, I’ve made the next sucker running for leader look good.
That said and done, I head off into the direction that looks the most promising. To little surprise, nobody seems to follow me. I go out another few dozen yards before finally settling in on a somewhat plain opening in the forest canopy. I scrounge around for a good sturdy rock, then immediately begin hacking away at the ground.
“What’re you doing down there?”
I turn around. A somewhat plain-looking young man is staring down at me. He’s got on a pair of glasses, and wears a business suit and muddy business shoes. I then look past him to see if anyone else is standing behind him, but there isn’t.
“Who the hell’re you? Ah, never mind. First thing’s first is we gotta find water,” I say. “I’m no topologist, but I know for damn sure the only way we built our city here was thanks to the few dozen miles of water pipes trailed in from the reservoirs. I don’t wanna walk twelve miles for water, so digging is our best bet. Ain’t no big water around here, except for a few ponds, but even those’re only safe for animals. So, that or rain collection.”
“You seem... knowledgeable,” notes the man. “By any chance, do you work for some kinda wilderness outfitter or something?”
“What, like REI? I’m a social studies teacher, so I know a good bit about primitive bullshit,” I mutter. “This biome here’s called a temperate rainforest, which is why it always rains so friggin much. But that also means the water collects somewhere, usually underground. For convenience’s sake, I’m building a water well. But if we find a good pond, I might consider moving.”
The man gazes blankly around for a few moments. “Are you sure this’s... what you say it is?” he asks. “I mean, the world’s forests aren’t completely gone, so we could’ve just been... Teleported...?“
“Y’know that rock formation I was standing on back there?”
“Uh—“
“That was in my backyard. And last I remember, I was sitting at home, not too far away from where I theoretically wound up earlier.”
“O-Oh,” nods the man. He crouches down into the dirt and begins scooping away sediment with his hands.
“You sure you wanna get your work khakis all effed up?” I mutter.
“If it’s like you said, the state of my clothes are the least of my concerns,” he says.
“Mh, yeah— I guess.” I get back to idly ramming the stone into the ground.
“What’s your name?” asks the young man.
“Hm—? Trevor. What about you?”
“Robin,” he grins. “Hey, you said you’re a social studies teacher, right?”
“I did.”
“Do you... always use that same attitude, even with your students?” he asks.
“What, my crushing pessimism? Yeah, and get ready, cuz that’s all I’ve got,” I reply. “Doesn’t bring in any ‘best teacher’ awards, but even the higher-ups can’t deny it’s an effective treatment for disobedient little shits.”
“Ahh, So you’re the problematic kid teacher.”
“You could say that,” I nod. “Alright, quit wasting time. Let’s get this well up before we go thirsty.”
Three hours pass, and I finally feel like I’m making progress. Robin tapped out after an hour or two, then fell asleep exhausted next to the hole. I struck water about twenty minutes ago, but keep digging to ensure it’ll refill on its own. The water is about two inches deep, and muddier than my brother’s shorts when we went out for Mexican as kids.
Of course, the best way to clean out water is to boil it first, but I don’t have a fire, nor do I have time to stop to look for dry kindling. Seeing no other convenient option, I slide off one of Robin’s shoes and fill it with water, dousing his face with it to wake him up. Startled, he pounces to his feet. Seeing it was just me, he slumps back to the ground and frowns. His eyes wander to the hole I’m digging.
“Woah, you really took off on that thing,” he says, impressed.
“Kindling. Dry stuff. Fetch,” I say.
“Huh?”
“Just make a goddamn fire,” I breathe. “We can’t drink this as it is. Until I get a charcoal filter going, we’re gonna have to boil it.”
“O-o-k-a-a-a-ay—— How do I do that?”
“Sun’s in the perfect place, four-eyes. Use your glasses to—“
“Ohhh—! I’ve heard of this!” he exclaims. “I-I’ll be right back, boss!”
He hustles off into god knows what direction. I gotta hope he doesn’t get lost, or I’ll have to start the fire all on my own.
An hour passes before he finally returns, hefting a good bundle of sticks over his shoulder. The water reserve is nearly complete, at about two feet in diameter and three deep. It’s almost completely full of murky water by now.
“Hey, nice going!” Robin chimes. “Now we can— Hey, one quick question...”
“Yeah?”
“How... exactly are we going to boil all this? We don’t have anything to put it in...”
I retrieve the empty bottle from my pocket.
“Happened to be carrying it when we got sucked in here,” I say. “If we didn’t have this, I’d probably be forced to make do with filtering it through a cloth. Not as effective, which is why I went with the latter.”
“Lucky,” Robin awes.
“Or lazy writing.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
“W-Well anyways, that brings me to my next question, which is—“
“That you’ve heard of the glasses trick, but you still don’t know how to do it. That about right?”
“Was it that obvious?”
“You were gonna ask anyways,” I mutter. “Strip the bark so it looks like a bundle of spaghetti. Then line the sun up with the glass and angle it so that the beam it gives off is as thin as possible. Keep it still and aim at one part of the kindling.”
He sets off with a strange determination in his eyes. He opens shop on a big rock and squats down over it as he engages in what I would assume is his focusing stance. Though his back is to me, I can tell by the way he’s craning his neck that he’s having a hard time seeing. I then realize I’ve been sitting on my ass for the past few minutes, and should probably go over there and help him. So without further ado, I brush off my pants and march over. When I look down, I notice he’s not at all doing it the way he’s supposed to. I chalk it up to his lack of sight.
“Here, lemme see those,” I say, receiving the glasses from him. I can tell he’s trying desperately to see through the haze as I do it, evidently with little luck. As the kindling begins to smolder, his face lights up with a look of admiration. I hand him his glasses, which he immediately returns to the bridge of his nose. I then cup the smoldering tinder in my hands and blow softly into it to oxygenate the flame. Moments later, there is a puff, and a tiny fire is born. In a cleared pit, I set the flame under other various thin pieces of firewood. Not long after, we’re met with a textbook-quality survival campfire. Even I can’t help but feel accomplished.
“So what do we do now, Mr. Trevor?” asks Robin.
“Where the hell’d the ‘mister’ come fr— oh, right. Well, call me ‘mister,’ followed by my first name again, and you’ll be making your own damn fire next time.”
“Sorry. So... what do we do now— T-Trevor?”
“Well I’ll tell you what we do now,” I huff. “We’ll start by getting something to hang the bottle from. Can’t just put plastic in the fire, or it’ll melt. So, make it like a cooking pot. Get me?”
“Uh... s-sure,” he nods.
“These sticks here, we can put one end on each edge of the pit, like a teepee,” I say. I tear a good long strand of cloth from my shirt. “—And we’ll use this to act like a rope, both to tie the sticks together, and to dangle the bottle in the little divot here, see?” I rub my finger in the concave part of the bottle.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
“Sounds... self-explanatory from this point on,” he nods.
“It’s self-explanatory cuz there’s jack shit left to do after that. Just keep an eye on the water, make sure it doesn’t melt through the bottle. The sediment’ll sink to the bottom as the water warms up. Drink directly from the bottle, or until we can figure out some sorta... cup, or something.”
“Cool, cool.” He’s silent for a good few moments before turning back to me. “Hey, fat chance, but is there a way we could, I dunno... get some kinda food? I’m a bit hungry.”
“Shovel some dirt into your mouth,” I say. I swear, he almost does it before I call it out as sarcasm. I pause. I turn to him. “Ever hunted, kid?”
“I once had a dream a squirrel jumped down my throat,” he chimes.
“Close enough,” I mumble.
“So, what— are we going to... set traps, or something?”
“Like hell we are. You know how many goddamn people are out there? You’d snare a poor guy’s leg before you catch something to eat. You want food, you’re going to have to catch it with your bare hands. That, or make a spear and throw it at the poor bastards.”
“Mh,” he says, agreeing, or... something.
“Well, we could always—“
A piercing howl stops him mid sentence and sends a chill down our spines. The sound echoes long and far through the forest, so much so that I can’t tell where it’s coming from.
“Of course. With a reverted world, no wonder all the little beasties are reverted as well,” I mutter under my breath.
“Wh-What was that, T-T-Trevor...?” Robin sputters.
“Wolves. I thought that was obvious enough,” I say. “Can’t tell exactly where it’s coming from, but I do know the old caves far north of here would be a perfect spot to make a den. Taking into account the distance from the caves to here, it’s safe to say we’re— well, safe.”
“Ohh, thank god,” Robin sighs.
“I wouldn’t be thanking Him,” I mutter. “He’s the one who put us here in the first place. Or, whatever it is that lets Him pass for a god these days.”
“O-Okay,” he says. He sets his hands in his lap. “Hey, think we should invite more people here? We’ve got water, and we can share the fire with just about anybody. When I was out lookin’ for sticks, I saw a ton of people just... wandering around. I mean, maybe we’re not the only ones who figured to make a fire, but still...”
“I’m staying here. They can go do whatever the hell they want. Same with you. If you wanna invite people here, then go ahead. Just make sure they make their own camp. This little opening isn’t nearly enough for that many folks.”
“S— Sounds like a plan! I’ll be right back!” he cheers, immediately bolting off in the direction I’d came from. I let out a sigh, and begin prodding the fire idly with my poking stick.
The sound of crunching leaves jolts me from my thought. I spin around. I sigh.
“Shit... Wasn’t expecting to see you here,” I mutter upon realizing who it is. I turn away from her, returning to prod my little fire.
“Well if it isn’t Trevor Till,” she says with a hand on her hip. “When I saw the fire, I was hoping someone with a little more... skill would be behind it.”
Heidi Parton is a five foot-nine woman with an overly-proper stature. She’s got a pair of cold blue eyes you’d swear were gazing into your soul, and a set of lips that usually look like they’re about to chew your ear off. I’ve never seen her without her hair pulled back so tight you could swear her scalp was about to come off. Strangely enough though, her hair isn’t like that today. It’s still pulled back, but it’s a tad looser, and in a ponytail. She usually has it in a bun. But I’m not giving her the satisfaction she wants, so I say;
“You sure haven’t changed a bit. Still all about utility, huh? Wouldn’t hurt to give a damn every once in a while.”
“Coming from you, that’s a corrupted officer preaching law,” she replies. Without waiting for my permission, she takes a seat next to me. “I suppose our meeting each other wasn’t entirely unfortunate, though. You would know the most of our predicament, wouldn’t you?”
“The world’s gone back in time. Everything but us,” I say. “That about what you wanted to hear?”
“No, but that might explain my cat turning into a jungle feline,” she replies.
“No shit, really?”
“Domesticated animals seem to have... reverted to their natural states before human interference,” she says. “That, or I have one very special cat.”
I think for a moment.
“Then the howling I heard just a bit ago—“
“—Were most likely dogs reverted to wolves and other canine,” she replies. “Though, that is only my hypothesis. They could’ve very well just have been wolves from the start.”
“Sounds like we’re in a load of shit. A lot of people could die tonight,” I sigh. “Well, for now all we can do is survive, really. Maybe make shelter up in the trees. Hunt for food. I doubt this’s just a one-day thing, after all. We could be here a while.”
It’s her turn to be silent.
“So how has life been... since we split up, Trevor?” she finally asks.
I roll my eyes. “Oh, y’know... I’m just an ‘emotionless bastard,’ right? It’s been much of the same.”
“Good,” she nods slowly. “I... see you’ve been—“
“Heidi, just shut it. Now’s really not the time,” I say. I get to my feet. “If you’re planning on staying, then at least help me get some shit done.”
“...Fine, what do you propose?” she asks.
“Shelter,” I reply. “We don’t have shit for shelter right now. We’re gonna build a kinda... tent. We just need a crossbeam between those two trees, and a lot of long ivy root to secure it. We’ll use those big-leafed plants for shingles, alright?”
“Your water’s boiling.”
“Wh— Oh, shit—!“ I snatch the bottle from the rack and drop it to the ground.
“Speaking of which— I couldn’t help but notice you already have your own source of water.” She crosses her arms. “If you used some of that ingenuity in our relationship, we might be married by now.”
“Just the thing a man my age looks for,” I huff.
“Wh— Yes, that is exactly what a man of your age should be looking for,” she says.
“No, I meant having to marry someone like you,” I retort.
“I’ll... take that insult with a grain of salt this time,” she sighs. “Well? Should we get to it?”
“Just try not to mess shit up,” I say.
“H-Hey, Hey Trevor—! L-Look what I’ve got! Hey, look! L—“ Robin stops just short of the opening. He’s eyeing Heidi almost suspiciously.
Heidi gives him a smile.
“One of your friends, Trevor?” she asks.
“Y-Yeah, something like that. This’s, uh... This’s Robin. He helped me get this stuff together.” I turn to Robin. “Alright, so what’d you wanna show me?”
He blinks twice. “O-Oh, right!” He’s holding something behind his back with both hands. He lets go with one hand, and brings the mystery item to his front. “It’s a turtle shell! I know you said that if I wanted food then I’d have to get it with my own hands, so I thought to myself, ‘I could easily catch something like a turtle, right?’ Well, it was empty when I turned it over, then I got to thinking about how we need some kinda drinking device, so— voila!”
“That’s a tortoise shell first of all, but... good find, I guess,” I say. “I don’t know how to cook turtle... but if we see a living one, I guess I wouldn’t mind trying it out.”
Robin sits next to me so he’s about opposite to where Heidi’s at.
“Oh yeah, and I found a few people,” he continues, setting the shell off to the side. “Nice folks. Told ‘em where to go, and they said they’d join us once they found their dog.”
The last word he says takes a moment to sink in. I look to Heidi. She gives me the same look back. The look that says;
‘Oh, fuck.’
I stand up and so does she. Robin glances up at me with confusion in his eye. I decide to leave him out. He follows me anyways as I begin running off in the direction he came. Just as I do, a blood-curdling scream echoes through the forest. I center in on the noise and adjust my trajectory so I’m running in the right direction.
“T-Trevor—! What the hell’s happening?!” Robin shrieks.
“You’ll see!” I yell back.
“Wh-What does that mean—?!”
“Like I said, you’ll—“
I come to a dead stop. Three wolves, each the size of two men are standing hunched over a bloody mass. I instinctively hold my breath to keep quiet, but Heidi and Robin don’t see them soon enough, and come crashing in behind me. First the ears of the wolves perk up, then the head of the first moves so it stares us dead in the eyes. Soon after, the other two join in. Licking bloodied mouths, they slowly pace their way towards us. Only then do I get a glimpse of what they were feasting on— the desecrated corpse of a young woman.
Robin tugs nervously at my shirt.
“Y-You wouldn’t happen to know how to survive a wolf attack, would you...?” he sputters.
I remain silent. I look up, and it hits me.
“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do,” I hiss. “When I say ‘Go,’ I want you both to get as high up into one of the trees as you can.”
“And just let you die...?” Heidi mutters.
“Hell no. I’m gonna haul ass until I can find my own place,” I reply.
“We’re gonna die here, aren’t we...” Robin whimpers.
“.........Go—!!!”
Robin and Heidi leap off in either direction as I burst off running. Looking back for a quick second, the wolves have split off, one for each of us. Thankfully, both of them seem to have been able to get high enough to avoid their pursuers. That just leaves mine, the one that’s obviously the alpha-male. I can feel its heavy movements in the ground as I sprint— or maybe it’s just my heart shifting into maximum overdrive. Either way, the beast is catching up— and quick.
What I do next is something I really didn’t expect. I stop, reel back, and punch the beast in its jaw as it sails towards me with mouth agape. The resulting impact sends prickles of pain up and down my wrist, and sends the wolf tripping over its own legs in surprise. Its own velocity causes it to keep going for a good ways before it finally gains a footing again. It snarls annoyedly and launches at me again. I quickly realize my mistake, and that it’s too late to change my fate. The wolf chomps down tightly on my arm. The pain explodes throughout my whole body. The beast eases up only to bite down again, toppling me over and baring down on me, clawing to get at my neck. The most I can do against it is struggle as I grab its mouth to keep it far enough away. Finally, I manage to bring my leg up and kick it in the underbelly, making it recoil just enough for me to scramble to my feet.
In my hand now is an old piece of wood. Apparently I picked it up sometime during the struggle. As the beast comes down again, I swing the wood with all my might. There is an audible crack as the two forces make contact. The wood splinters, and the wolf is batted swiftly out of reach. It snarls, lowering its head. I can see a gash from where I hit it going directly over its eye. It stands there, growling for a good few moments before raising its head and howling. It scampers off soon later.
There are rows and rows of scratch marks on the trunks of the trees Robin and Heidi have taken shelter in. I look up at them. Both of their faces are stricken with shock. I wave carefully to them, then wincing and again clutching my wounded arm.
“We’re safe for now, I think,” I say.
“T-There was another howl, a-and...” Robin stops himself.
“Yeah, I kinda... clubbed their leader in the eye,” I mutter. “We should probably have some spears at the ready. They’re damn strong.”
A dozen or so people are huddled around my fire by the time we make it back to camp. I’m so exhausted I don’t have the energy in me to tell them to shove off. I just rest myself up against a tree and lay my arm over my stomach. Heidi takes a seat just next to me while Robin waddles over to the fire to try to squeeze himself in. Heidi looks to me with mild concern, and I respond to it by giving her a look of discontent.
“The hell’re you looking at?” I mutter.
“Did you honestly think it would be a good idea to try fist-fighting one of the most hostile predators in the entire animal kingdom?” she asks.
“You’re making it sound like I’m the one who fucked up here,” I retort.
“Because you did!”
“I beat the thing. And if it comes back, I’ll do the same shit again. Except, maybe with spears or something.”
“It is nothing but dumb luck you didn’t get mauled to death this time, but with that arm you won’t be doing anything of the sort.”
“When’d you start caring about me again?”
“I haven’t yet,” she huffs. “But I’m rather against watching someone die in front of me, idiot or otherwise.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve called me in a good while,” I mumble. “Well, that’s not really important anymore. Sure, the arm feels like a nest of ants have taken residence in my skin, but that’ll heal.”
“Fine. Then what is?”
“Huh?”
“What’s more important, then?”
“You talkin’ right now, or—“
“You told me we would accomplish something, but now all you are doing is sitting around. What about that... shelter you were talking about?”
“Ahh, that...” I take in a breath. “Well, I’ve had some... second thoughts. Sleeping under the stars don’t sound all that bad anymore.”
“I’m not fond of camping,” she sighs. “I’ve had far too many bad experiences with it in the past.”
“The only ‘experiences’ you had were when we went out to the Black Hills,” I mutter.
“My point exactly,” she retorts.
“Y’know, we’ve been apart for two goddamn years. I get it— you weren’t fuckin’ happy. Neither was I. Quit washing my face in it.”
She’s silent. I almost think she’s about to say something, but she never does. She just sits there, gazing out into nothing as the last of the day’s light leaves the sky.
I nod acceptingly, and turn away.
“This world ain’t like the one back there, though,” I say finally. “It’s the first goddamn frontier. I don’t gotta worry about my job, and you don’t gotta worry about being my boss while also being my secret sex mate. If the road leads us to get back together... Hell, I don’t think I’d complain. If it meant more of what made it good.”
There’s a pause.
“You sure know how to make a woman blush,” she mutters dryly. “That really was the only memorable thing about our relationship, wasn’t it...”
“The sex? Sure,” I nod. “Started with us wanting to strangle each other, and ended on a not too different note. But the in-between... Ahh, that was somethin’ else.”
“You should better stop talking about it before we start missing the old days,” she mutters. “I’m going to sleep. Be a dear and make sure I’m not eaten, okay?”
“Don’t count on it,” I mutter.
She flips over on her side so she’s facing away from me, using her arm as a pillow. I look to her for a bit longer than I should have before finally retreating my gaze, setting the back of my head on the hard trunk of the tree.
“So... I think I’ve managed to piece it all together. Or, some of it, at least,” says Robin. He sits down in front of me, giving Heidi’s sleeping body a rapid glance, one he surely thinks he got away with.
“Yeah? Hey, why the hell’re you still holding that shell?”
“I’m proud of this shell, I’ll have you know,” he scoffs; whether jokingly or not, I can’t tell. “Ah, but... that’s not the point.”
“If you’re still wracking your brain over the wolf shit, I’m pretty sure we already have that covered,” I say. “To Heidi’s account, she said she saw her cat up and transform into an ocelot right in front of her.”
“An ocel— What?”
“She likes to be precise when it comes to stupid stuff. What matters is all the domesticated animals, pets and whatnot, have reverted to their primal origins, before breeding came and fucked over their gene pools.”
“Fido? More like Fi-don’t.” He crosses his arms, seemingly satisfied with himself.
“Say one more pun and I’m gonna smash that shell over your head,” I glower. “But yeah, that’s the gist of this world. Assuming everyone on Earth is here now, I’m estimating we’re gonna lose about three million by the end of the week.”
“That many?” He shrinks worriedly into his own posture.
“That’s still nine billion people left, though,” I say. “And assuming a half a billion are over seventy, they shouldn’t last much longer here, either.”
“Did you really have to say that?! I’ve got a gramma down in Colorado, man...”
“People aren’t all dumb, though,” I shrug. “The smart ones’ll band together and build whole damn cities from nothing. The kind ones’ll help out the folks who can’t help themselves, like the poor ol’ granny of yours. The weak’ll die, that much’s obvious. It’s called survival of the goddamn fittest. Darwinism in its core.”
“Aren’t you just a history major?”
“Anyone who went to middle school should know that shit,” I say.
“But... Well, yeah. I guess,” he replies, lolling his head back and forth. “So... What’s on the agenda for tomorrow? What’re we gonna build?”
“First thing’s first, I’m moving places. Not too happy with all the leeches hanging out.”
“We could just tell them to leave, right?”
“Once a leech, always a leech,” I scoff. “Shove ‘em off and they’ll be right back. Just like my first ex— the one before the stuck-up little prick who’s laying right over there.” I motion to Heidi.
“—And that leads me to my next question, which is— who is she, really?”
“Heidi. As you probably gathered, she’s an old... acquaintance of mine,” I say. “Back before this happened, so back up till about twelve hours ago... She was the principal for the high school I worked at. That answer enough for you?”
“Office romance, huh?”
“More like a pair of naive fools, slaves to the pull of their own impulses. Two idiots trying to fill the void created by the harshness of reality. Romance is for storybooks.”
Another scream pierces the night. Robin scrambles to his feet, but I raise a hand to stop him. He looks down with concern, but slowly sinks back to his knees.
“We could’ve helped them,” he mutters.
“No, we couldn’t have,” I reply. I show him the bite wounds in my arm. “This is what happens when people don’t think before they act. Now I’m injured, and the poor fucker still died.”
He’s about to say something. He opens his mouth, then closes it. Not another word creeps from his mouth for the rest of the night.