AnimeCon Harem 16: Cabin Retreat (Patreon)

“How are we doing?” Rebecca couldn’t even spare a glance towards the figure bundled in blankets occupying the passenger’s seat. “Are we okay?”

“Bad,” Christine sounded hoarse now. “Bad. Bad. Not good.”

Just a little past the halfway point to her uncle’s cabin, Christine vomited out an obscene amount of the pedia-lite hydration formula she had been forcing down. Rebecca’s grandmother’s blanket was soaked, and then of course Christine had a small breakdown trying to extricate herself and then scrambling to cover herself with it again in a panic when scattered sunlight landed across her fair skin. The interior of her car was now filled with the rather stomach-turning smell of strawberry-flavored bile.

The situation deteriorated rapidly after that.

“Almost there,” Rebecca promised. “Almost there.”

She’d made a single attempt to encourage Christine to drink more formula, but Christine immediately gagged, retching up even more, and then began sobbing within her nest of blankets soiled with puked up water. They had long since left main roads behind and travel became bumpy on this old back road, occasional gravel kicking up to ping across the undercarriage as swathes of forest raced by them on either side.

Emily would just be so proud of how fast I’m driving! Rebecca thought to herself with a wincing smile.

Her entire body was tense; Rebecca’s eyes were straining as she watched the contours of aging pavement rush beneath the vehicle in a blur. She’d never pushed her little hatchback to its limits like this before, and because the old country road curved and winded around everything her full attention needed to be on her driving, only making allowances to scan the treeline ahead for deer that might attempt to cross in front of her.

The speed limit posted here is fifty-five miles per hour, Rebecca felt her jaw start to ache from how hard she was gritting her teeth. I normally take this section at about thirty, though? I am currently doing… eighty-three miles per hour, somehow? I’m not sure it’s physically possible to drive faster, way out here. Not without longer straightaways.

Rebecca loved to drive, but she had never enjoyed driving fast. A sedate, relaxing pace was best, it made her feel completely in control, it made her know she was going to be safe, because she was a great driver. She did not feel safe right now, but as her foot pressed the gas pedal with urgency she knew that the feeling wasn’t quite because of how fast she was going.

It wasn’t safe because Christine was likely going to try to lunge over at her soon.

Some primal Mara part of herself felt nothing but growing danger beside her. Her long-legged brunette friend was wrapped in vomit-water blankets and had been crying pitifully and even muffled at least one actual scream. But, as the station wagon all but hurtled down the winding rural roads towards her uncle’s hunting camp… Christine grew quiet. The silence was much more alarming than the sniffled sobs had been, because Rebecca was increasingly sure that her passenger was transitioning into a threat.

I’m not even sure why! Rebecca grimaced. Maybe it’s just my nerves? Or, is it INSTINCT? I feel like as each minute goes by, she’s more and more dangerous—I can feel all the little hairs standing up, I’ve got goosebumps, my entire body feels like it’s priming up for a fight or flight response. I don’t even get that sort of reaction from big field battles that often, anymore!

“Almost there!” Rebecca said again with forced cheer. “Just around this bend and the next and then one after that, and we’ll have to park.”

“Rebecca HURRY,” Christine wailed.

“Almost there!” Rebecca repeated. “We’re gonna be okay! Now um—now the driveway up the hill to his little hunting lodge isn’t paved, so we’ll—okay, look! Here we are! See? That wasn’t so bad! We’re already here! We’re here!”

The seatbelt was unbuckled, her door was opened, and Rebecca was jumping out even as her station wagon was still skidding to a stop along the leaves and gravel beside the road. The trees here were thick, and the greenery was such that she couldn’t see her uncle’s cabin up the hill; just a steep path through the woods marked by twin tire ruts, already choked with the growth of new ferns. Her uncle’s truck could manage up the incline to park up by the actual lodge itself; Rebecca’s vehicle could not.

Sense of imminent disaster throbbing through her on wings of adrenaline, Rebecca rushed around and opened up Christine’s door, allowing folds of excess blanket to spill out onto the ground.

“Chloe? Christine?” Rebecca asked. “I’m going to need to guide you on up, so—so, if you can give me your hand through the blanket, we’ll—”

The quilted blanket distended outwards from within as a hand pressed out, and Rebecca grabbed it.

The pain was immediate and intense as Christine gripped, an inhuman vice crushing back in response that made Rebecca freeze up.

“Gently, please,” Rebecca choked out an admonishment. “Please? Chloe, Chloe you’re—”

To her relief Christine relented, and despite definitely needing to check on fingers searing with pain as soon as they got up the hill, Rebecca managed to hold Christine’s hand in an awkward clasp of her palm and her thumb and lead her to step out of the vehicle. She caught a glimpse of a rather dainty bare foot—apparently Christine had taken off her shoes at some point during the trip—and then the blanket hung down and covered everything. Despite being smothered in all of that, it was very clear to Rebecca that Christine had no trouble keeping her balance as she stood. There was no awkward clumsiness, no hesitation, there didn’t even seem to be a chance of Christine tripping on the blanket as she began to follow Rebecca’s guidance.

All of these observations made Rebecca more and more certain that the Christine of right now was extremely dangerous.

It made the trek up the hill to the cabin disarmingly easy. There was no bumbling about despite Christine’s apparent blindness, there were no pauses, and despite the sharp upward grade there was not a single instance of the walking blanket bundle behind her losing her footing.

The cabin Rebecca’s uncle built was as she remembered it, more or less. Perhaps with a bit more green moss growing across the boards. It was a simple seven foot by fifteen foot structure of leftover odds and ends. A few railroad ties, several long two by fours from old construction, actual downed logs from this property made up part of the far wall, and then most of the rest was filled in with sheets of plywood and wooden boards from pallets. The door was actually the old porch door from when her grandfather had replaced his porch door.

“Now, um, it’s a little bit rustic,” Rebecca said as she nudged over the cinderblock placed beside the door to reveal a key. “But, there’s lights on a battery, there’s a fan, he keeps all kinds of bottled water here—”

Not letting go of Christine, she stooped down to grab the key, unlocked the door, lifted the door slightly as she turned the knob, because otherwise the darn thing would remain jammed shut, and smashed her shoulder into it. With a groan it swung open to reveal—well, not much of anything.

“Aw, shoot,” Rebecca pursed her lips as she pulled Christine inside. “Well. There’s still big packs of water, but I guess he did take the fan with him last time.”

She was used to visiting while he was here, so at those times the rather spartan dwelling would be furnished with a pair of his metal framed army cots, the wood-burning stove would be set up beneath the chimney pipe, and a folding table would be placed to put all of their things on. Right now, there was nothing; the cots weren’t present, nor was the table, and even the metal tube that was their chimney hung down over an empty corner with no stove. Dust covered everything inside, but regardless Rebecca closed the door behind them and flicked on the lights.

Those worked, at least, and in the yellow glare of a naked incandescent bulb overhead, Christine fought her way free of her covering.

“Oh shoot,” Rebecca swore again, stepping back.

Her friend’s eyes were glassy and strange, her hair was wild, she was covered in sweat and feverishly pale. Christine looked ill in the way a junkie or an addict might look, and although her figure was frail, strings of muscle were cording and uncording along her neck, bare shoulders, and arms as if she was engaging in some impossible feat of strength. That pall of immediate, life-threatening danger all but stunned the Rebecca out of Mara, and on reflex Mara found herself lowering her center of gravity and holding up her arms as if to prepare for an animal attack.

“Christine?” Mara asked in a warning tone. “Chloe? Christine?”

“What?” Christine snapped, jerking to face her with unnatural speed.

“Okay… okay,” Mara said. “Just checking. You’re alright?”

“No I’m not fucking alright!” Christine hissed out, tears running down her face. “I’m—I’m—I—this isn’t a fucking cabin!”

“It’s the cabin my uncle uses during hunting season,” Mara reasoned. “Now… I know that it doesn’t look like much, but—”

“Rebecca,” Christine snarled. “This is a fucking hobo shack, I can—I can take the whole thing down like a house of cards. Look. Fucking watch.”

Christine reached for the grimy, uneven boards that made up the nearest wall, and Mara pounced forward to restrain that slender hand.

“No! No, none of that,” Mara admonished, struggling to inject some of her well-practiced grandmotherly levity in. “I could take the place down too, you’re not impressing anyone. And, what would it accomplish? Then, we’d be dealing with deerflies and mosquitos overnight. Is that what you want? Deerflies and ‘squitos? You want to find out who the real bloodsuckers are?”

“That’s not funny!” Christine shrugged off Mara’s hands with an alarmingly fast flick of her arm that almost had Mara stumbling off balance and to the floor of the cabin. “That’s not—this isn’t fucking funny, Rebecca. This pile of boards is not going to contain me when I—when I—”

“We’re working on that,” Mara said. “Give me a minute. I’m going to run down to the car and carry everything up. Okay? You’re alright? You’re not feeling any sunlight? You’re still okay with control?”

“I’m—” Christine scrunched her eyes shut and took several deep breaths. “Just fucking hurry Rebecca, please. Hurry.”

*     *     *

Emily noticed the change right away.

Likely because she’d planted the desk chair beside Brian’s bed, and was watching him like a hawk for any sign of movement. Emily wasn’t sure what to expect, and Kelly was obviously getting frustrated with repeated questions that she only had vague answers to, so Emily had just decided to sit in Brian’s room and watch him like a hawk. When Brian’s figure on the bed went from the stiffness of total stasis to sag in place slightly, as if his entire body had relaxed all at once, she knew the moment had come. He was handsome despite the bruises and slightly broken nose, she’d had a crush on him forever, and being here with him in his room like this was intimate.

Could just admire him forever and ever anyways, Emily thought as she rose from the chair. I love him. I’m completely in fucking love with him. So what if the kissing magic thing is super cliche? My love for him can literally save him from this, and that’s rad as hell, right?

Butterflies danced in her tummy as she brought one knee up onto the mattress beside Brian, lowered herself in close, and then kissed him. When their lips met, blue boiled up from within her and poured into him, a giddy wet rush of magical movement and color that made Emily feel lightheaded. It was just like before, but also it felt different, tiring. Exhausting. But, it appeared to be working, the water in Emily’s mind was flowing in the other direction, hopefully spilling out of her and into him so that it could saturate the spell frames.

It’s different but still good, Emily decided as she worked her lips against Brian’s in a daze.

Power was draining out of her, but with the satisfaction of exertion. As though she was accomplishing something. She felt incrementally less useless and like a helpless bystander in what was going on around the guy she loved. The torrent of blue within her flowed backwards from its usual meandering course and into Brian in a sloshing swill of feelings, until finally—Emily’s arms and the leg she had up on the bedspread gave out.

“Oof! Ow fuck,” Emily exclaimed as she disengaged, slipping off the bed and sprawling out upon the floor. “Fuuuck.”

“Everything okay?” Kelly yelled over from the living room.

“He’s uh, out of stasis,” Emily called back in a weak voice. “Basically.”

Oh whoa, I’m like… fuckin’ TIRED, Emily tried to clamp her mouth down over an emerging yawn and just barely managed to stifle it. SUPER fuckin’ tired. Wow. That takes it out of you.

“You top him off right away?” Kelly asked, hurrying into the room.

“I um,” Emily mumbled, groping along the floor as she tried to climb up onto her hands and knees. “Kissed him. A bit. I think he can take more, dunno if he’s topped yet. That was a lot.”

“Does he look any better?” Kelly offered her a hand up while leaning over to inspect Brian. “He looks the same.”

“I’m gonna do it again,” Emily insisted, struggling to her feet.

“How about you wait a minute,” Kelly said. “You shouldn’t be that out of breath from kissing him.”

“I’m not out of breath,” Emily said, clutching her chest and then wheezing. “Hueeechhh. Oh fuck, I kinda am?! Maaaan.”

“What was it like?”

“Like uhh. Like donating blood, maybe? I’m a little dizzy. No, I’m a lot dizzy. It’s super weird?”

“Yeah, you wait a minute, then,” Kelly said. “I’ll try.”

“Climb over him and lay down there beside him first,” Emily suggested. “Probably gonna lay you out flat for a bit afterwards.”

To her surprise, Emily felt wobbly when she stood the whole way up. Off balance. Also maybe ravenous, like they should order pizza or something. Thirsty. Tired. Tired in all of the different ways she could be tired, she was sleepy and her mind felt frazzled and all of her muscles felt a tiny bit sore. There were fading pins and needles all over, like when a leg falls asleep but then gets blood flow again. Emily felt a little bit horny, too, but nothing like the kisses had made her feel before. Mostly, it was like a number of random drives or resources throughout her body, tangible and intangible alike, were just depleted. Anything that could be satiated was now no longer satiated, and had a bit missing. All over the place, like a bunch of random chunks of her various vitalities had been borrowed from here and there and she was not as hale and hearty as she’d been a minute ago.

There wasn’t any one single sort of synesthesia she could point to and determine that the specific feeling was magic. Magic seemed to touch on a little bit of everything at once, and in strange ways she wasn’t sure she could label or categorize. Besides the blue, of course. Was there less blue in her than before? She wasn’t sure that it really could be quantified that way. The brightness of the blue didn’t dim, exactly. Was there less of it? Maybe, but with the way it always flowed through her that was a difficult thing to gauge in the first place.

But, all of that’s whatever, ‘cause it’s for BRIAN, Emily decided with stubborn determination. Every little bit of everything I can spare’s gonna help him get better and wake up faster.

“Alright,” Kelly said, climbing over Brian to situate herself on the other side of him. “I’m cool with that. Was gonna power nap anyways, so this’ll hopefully just help.”

“Yeah,” Emily agreed. “You go, and then I’ll go again. Or—shit, I should raid the pantry first, and then go again. Pack of ramen noodles, or somethin’. I was hoping to just like, lock lips and not stop kissin’ him ‘til he’s better, but it uhh. The whole thing like, takes a lot out of you.”

“We knew it would,” Kelly tucked her hair behind her ear so that it wouldn’t fall down across their faces when she kissed Brian. “That’s how this is supposed to work.”

“Yeah, I just. Yeah,” Emily sighed. “We for sure at least have to top up the spell bullshit, soon as we can.”

Kelly wasn’t even listening anymore, because she’d lowered her mouth to Brian and was gently kissing him, and then not so gently kissing him. The endeavor became a full-on make-out, with greedy lips and sounds of tongue for a moment, and then—Emily watched in disbelief as Kelly’s head slumped to the side, her cheek smooshed up against Brian’s face.

“Kell?” Emily asked. “Kelly?”

Reaching over to poke the plush curve of Kelly’s butt confirmed it; Kelly had passed out. With a sigh, Emily took Kelly’s arm that draped over Brian’s chest and moved it to the side, easing Kelly over so that she wasn’t squishing Brian too much. To her frustration, Brian still looked exactly the same—the bruises hadn’t magically disappeared yet, his nose was still a little crooked. She knew she couldn’t expect results right away, but obviously she was still gonna look for them each and every time.

“Well, fuckcakes,” Emily grunted, putting her hands on her hips. “Alright, so maybe kissing slow and steady wins the race?”

*     *     *

Brian wasn’t sure how long he had been awake, or even if he was awake right now. The scenery around him was barren and lifeless, his thoughts were sluggish and crumbled out of his reach as he tried to gather them, his awareness was shrouded in a fog that only allowed tiny glimpses of clarity. Frowning, he sat up and blinked, trying to consider the situation.

I was at AnimeCon… or maybe THAT was a dream? It feels a bit like one, but I really, really want it to have been real.

He remembered Stephanie, and he remembered Kelly. Brian wasn’t sure he remembered what all had happened over the convention weekend, and trying to grasp for clear events or what happened and when seemed to make more and more of it slip away from him. Again it was like the vanishing fragments of a dream, evaporating right in front of his eyes as he fought to turn his attention towards the fleeting moments.

I guess… I guess it WAS a dream, Brian thought, resting his forearms on his knees as the bitterness of loss crashed down upon him.

There had been two girls, he knew that for sure. Stephanie, and… the other one. Stephanie was the ray of sunshine, innocent and optimistic and gorgeous, then the other girl had been dark and a little wicked and yet somehow bent on bringing them together. He couldn’t remember that girl’s name now, he just clutched onto images and impressions as they too slipped away. The vulnerability hidden beneath the sharpness she protected herself with. That stuck with him.

Before he realized it, he couldn’t remember Stephanie’s name, either, and when trying to recall her he was just left with a bright smile and flicker of hope. She’d loved him, and every time she smiled it was as if love poured out of her and filled the empty spaces within him. Realizing that these two girls had likely been figments of his imagination was extraordinarily depressing, and for a long while—he wasn’t sure if he could measure it in hours or days—Brian simply sat and stared out at nothing, angry and lost.

“Brian?!”

A girl’s voice called out of nowhere, and suddenly he was surrounded by forest—trees pressed in on all sides around him, branches crossed above him; groaning oak swayed in a wind he could not feel. The rich brown color that ran up the scarred bark of the trunks stirred something inside of him, some sense of familiarity, and the distraction was enough to make him forget what—or where—he had been before this encroaching copse of trees appeared to surround him.

“Brian?” The girl asked again from somewhere through the trees.

He turned his head, but couldn’t even identify which direction her voice was coming from.

“Brian? Are you— —--- —-- —-?”

This time when she spoke he couldn’t make out her words, even with them all spoken at the same volume. It was as though his attention lapsed, and whatever had been said didn’t really even register. The sounds were there, and he felt like they formed into cohesive sentences, but trying to parse what they were or what they meant was for now just beyond him.

“What?” Brian asked.

“Oh, sorry! I said, — —-- —- —-- —- — — - —--- —---?” The unseen girl let out a small giggle. “Can you —-- me? I feel like — —-- —----- through…”

“What?” Brian asked again.

“Test! Test!” Branches dropped even lower, and Brian almost got a face full of leaves—which were also vivid hues of that strange brown, but somehow didn’t look dead or dying, like brown leaves should. “Testing, one two three? Hah ha. I heard you speak! That’s a—well, that’s something? I tried to get Emily to talk in here—yeah, I know, what a mistake, hah—and all I got back were like, weird burbling noises? I’m not even sure if we were actually communicating? And then, with Stephanie—Stephanie just kind of burned at me? Does that make sense?”

“Stephanie,” Brian remembered, feeling the name return to him with a jolt of hope. “You know Stephanie? She’s real?”

“She is!” The surrounding trees all but loomed over him now, but he kept himself from shrinking back. “She’s—well. Brian, do you know where you are?”

“Um,” Brian’s head went blank. “No?”

“You’re—well, you’re dreaming, I guess?” Rebecca let out another nervous laugh.

That’s Rebecca’s voice? Brian realized. I can’t SEE her, but I do know that voice. I think. She’s… somewhere around here. Or maybe all around here, fuck, I don’t know.

“You’re… Rebecca, right?” Brian asked. “Where are you?”

“Pffft—hah hahah hah!” Rebecca laughed. “Ah, damn it. Yes. I am Rebecca! I guess I just thought—well, you’re dreaming right now, sort of. I just thought maybe it was different for you, because you’re, well, you. But, this whole experience on your end is just like a dream, huh? Everything’s surreal and floaty? Hard time remembering what’s what, like you’re disconnected from memory and logic and all those higher functions?”

“I guess?” Brian struggled to answer. “How do I… how do I wake up, then?”

“Oh, you don’t! For now,” Rebecca’s tone turned apologetic. “I’m just surprised you came into the dream here, I guess? The dreamscape thingie. You’re unconscious, you will be for a while. Do you remember getting hurt?”

“Getting hurt?” Brian repeated, frowning as he tried to concentrate. “No, I don’t think so. I remember going to the convention.”

“Do you remember Stephanie?” Rebecca asked. “Kelly?”

“Kelly,” Brian recalled, feeling a surge of relief as the name returned to him. “Yeah, yeah. I remember Kelly. Stephanie. Both of them.”

“Emily?” Rebecca pressed, tickling Brian’s shoulder with a swath of leaves. He tried to reach up and touch them, but they were somehow always just out of his reach.

“Hah ha, like I could ever forget Emily,” Brian chuckled. “I just… hell, where am I right now? What is this?”

“It’s a magic thing!” Rebecca answered in a chipper voice. “I’m actually hours away from you right now, but I guess distance doesn’t affect the connection much. I sure don’t get any service out here, I think the nearest cell tower is over in Tionetta, where we pick up supplies and stuff for the weekend. Oh, and, I’m awake!”

“Okay, so,” Brian tried to gather his thoughts again. “How do I… how do I wake up, then?”

“You just asked me that!” The voice giggled again. “I’m not sure how much of what I say is sticking with you.”

“Yeah, it’s… weird,” Brian agreed.

“Maybe it’d be better if we had kissed?” The familiar voice—he couldn’t quite place a name or face to it—wondered out loud. “I don’t know! It’s definitely cool that we can talk through this, though. Unless I’m imagining all of this? Maybe this is all my dream? I—nope, I just pinched myself. I’m definitely awake right now. Huh.”

“So…” Brian frowned as he struggled to think. “What’s going on?”

“You should be with Emily and Kelly,” The disembodied voice explained. “You’re in some kind of magical healing sleep? For a while. I’m sitting just outside my uncle’s cabin way out in the middle of nowhere, standing vigil for Chloe. You remember Chloe, right?”

“Yeah,” Brian said, surprised at the flashes of guilt and anger that accompanied remembering that name. “My girlfriend.”

“Well, ex-girlfriend, yes,” the girl’s voice corrected him. “You two broke up, just before the convention. How much of the convention stuff do you remember?”

“I…” Brian paused, looking around the forest with a wry smile. “Well, I remember there was a convention, kinda? But, uhh. Who are you?”

“I’m Rebecca!” Rebecca reminded him. “Oh, poop. I keep forgetting you’re not really awake here. This is just like, your subconscious, huh? Some level of it?”

“I guess?” Brian looked around. “Rebecca? Since when are you a talking tree? Or is it talking trees? Plural?”

“Hah! Good one,” Rebecca giggled. “Since when are you made out of dirt, Brian?”

Confused, Brian opened his hands and looked down at them, only to see his fingers crumble away into clumps of earth.

“What the fuu—-” Brian managed to say as his consciousness began to collapse.

“Oh no no no, don’t —- —- —--- —----!” The exasperated voice trailed off into incomprehensible sounds as Brian fell apart and the slivers of his identity sunk deep back into the ground to sleep again.

*     *     *

“Oh, poop,” Rebecca swore again, opening her eyes.

The Brian mudman had melted away in surprise at discovering he was actually in fact a Brian-shaped mound of wet dirt and clumpy soil, and the tenuous connection she had made with him was lost again. That had been weird. She’d always thought the dreamscape map area itself was some kind of metaphor for Brian, but seeing him just show up in there randomly had been a bit of a shock.

Just was goin’ around exploring the dreamscape, checking on the Rivera river, making sure the Stephie fire was still lit up in the distance and all, and—BAM. Sudden gloomy spot just appears out of nowhere! Rebecca smiled to herself as she considered the implications.

I wonder if we can train this up to where we can actually send real messages? He definitely TALKED. That was new. I thought these were all just kind of… abstract representations of their feelings, or emotional states, or whatever. But then, dirt golem Brian just opens his mouth and says ‘WHAT?’ Is his mind just wandering around with nowhere else to go, because the magic spell paralysis thing won’t let him wake up in real life yet?

The possibilities were exciting, but maybe not groundbreaking. Except in rare areas like where she was now, phones were better in every way for communicating across distances. Rebecca wasn’t even sure if the others could wake up enough to have meaningful conversations with one another in the dreamscape. Brian seemed to lose the thread of what was going on several times as she was speaking to him.

Rebecca’s eyes fell back onto the hunting cabin across the clearing from her, and her smile slipped away. She’d intended to sit inside with Christine, but as the hours wore on in there it seemed like her presence was just agitating the bound girl. The old loaner set of SCE armor was strapped onto the long-legged Christine in there, and then the buckles and releases were further secured with a stupid amount of duct tape, and then the bicycle lock had looped around her arms and secured just behind the strongest-looking support beam of her uncle’s shack. Followed by more duct tape, for good measure, because she might as well finish off the roll.

The increasingly aggravated Christine had been patient enough to allow herself to be bound, and sat quietly to wait out the blood magic for the first hour. Then the quiet became panting and hissing, the stillness gave way to Christine testing her bonds, and for a short while thrashing and even howling. Rebecca had hurried to suit up in her chainmail and helmet as well, and stood nearby with her dishing hammer, ready to intervene in case Christine broke free, but her captive seemed to run out of energy before anything serious broke.

It was a few hours fraught with tension, but in the end things were anticlimactic.

The brand new, yet-to-be-broken-in mouthguard that had been given to Christine for the girl to bite down on had reappeared, yellow plastic pieces of it dribbling out from beneath the helmet Christine was wearing, along with saliva and a little bit of blood. There wasn’t much else Rebecca could do about that with the unknown bite strength, and she wasn’t comfortable trying to replace the mouthguard with anything else she had on hand. The duct-taped chain was holding fine, the safety gear was all okay. Christine was still breathing.

Can’t replace the mouthguard with anything for now, don’t want to lose fingers! Rebecca winced. Didn’t have earplugs for her, either, because... I forgot them. And, I think she tried to dislocate her shoulders by thrashing around, but didn’t have enough range of movement to actually do it. She should be MOSTLY okay. If she can get through this.

Closing her eyes again and re-crossing her legs, Rebecca pushed herself back into the meditation so that she could search for Brian. Christine’s not going anywhere. We’ll see how she is at sunrise—I’ll pull her out into the sun.

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