Meliora - Extricate - 22

[lady_mab]

Zoné Altair

Birthdays have never been a huge thing in my family. The fact that my birthday falls on Halloween means that I’ve always managed to avoid celebrations because everyone would rather dress up to go trick-or-treating.

I didn’t even know that my friends knew my birthday.

So when I showed up to Jun’s place and was bombarded by shouts of “Happy Birthday!” and a small sprinkling of confetti, I’m not entirely certain how to react.

The good news: We spent the afternoon and evening the way we normally would. Playing games, eating snacks, just generally hanging out.

The better news: I got to eat so much delicious food.

Jun has been in and out of the kitchen for nearly four hours, but she shows no signs of slowing down. Beat, who has been her ever faithful assistant, is starting to lag. She swears up and down that she’s almost done.

At this point, I’ve been banished to the other side of the room so I can’t see what she’s doing. Doesn’t mean that I can’t pick up the sugary sweet scent of cake batter over the smells from the restaurant below.

Glen has relaxed into a chair next to me after a moment where he looked like he was going to be sick. His gaze focuses on the kitchen, watching as Jun and Beat dance around the workspace, and Mal, Robbie, and Ayumu clamor at the island separating the halves of the room. There is a tinge of something I can’t quite identify pulling at the corners of his eyes.

“How did you manage to convince her to be your friend?” he asks suddenly, turning and catching me staring.

It takes several seconds to catch up to what he’s talking about. Or more properly, who. “I found Jun looking very lost and stranded in the rain after the first day of summer school, so I hung out with her for a bit. She asked me for some advice as an incoming student, and I gave her my best--”

Glen groans to cut me off. He shifts in his seat, and his movements look stiff and sore. “You told her about the spam and corned beef tacos, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Just the thought of those makes me feel sick to my stomach. No wonder she stuck around to make you food. I’m surprised she didn’t run away at the idea of what you consider ‘fine dining’.”

I puff out my cheeks and cross my arms over my chest. “Hey. I live paycheck to paycheck. I don’t have the money to be stingy with my food.”

“Dude, I get that, but a pallet like yours doesn’t develop overnight. That takes time to cultivate.” He’s still grimacing as he speaks, and I find it hard to think that it’s just over the food.

I lean forward, hooking my elbows on my knees. “Is everything alright?”

He pauses, hand dropping a fraction to obscure his face from my view. “Asides from the fact that I think I’m about ready to upchuck all this delicious curry Jun made? I’m fine.” There’s sarcasm in his tone, but his answer is still ambiguous.

“You think it’s the shots?”

“I really don’t know what else it could be. I’m probably just allergic to something in them, because it’s always bad right after we go in.” His hand moves to rub his bicep, knobby fingers plucking at a loose strand on his sweater. “It doesn’t seem to be bothering anyone else.”

Before I can get the chance to sort out my thoughts, a cake is presented to me with a dramatic flourish.

A hushed chorus of barely suppressed laughter surrounds me, and when I look up, Jun grins at my surprise. Beat stands on her right, a place of pride and smug satisfaction. Ayumu, Mal, and Robbie huddle on her left. “Happy birthday!” they shout at the same time before laughter explodes in full force.

Even Glen manages to join in on the stirring rendition of the birthday song. Each person picks a different key and sticks to it.

Once it’s done, I let the silence stretch out for several seconds longer than necessary and make a show of rubbing my ears. “Truly a work of art.”

“If you mean the cake, yes, it is.” Robbie brandishes a handful of forks over Jun’s shoulder.

I take one and reach for the cake as the rest of the forks are distributed. “Thanks everyone.” I can’t remember the last time that I even had a birthday party. I’m not sure I’ve ever had one. I can’t decide if this has changed my opinion on them, or if every time we hang out we should do it like this.

The cake is pulled out of range before my fork makes contact.

Jun stares down at me, as serious as she can manage with flour smeared across her cheek and pink hair still a mess from the half-formed food fight earlier in the evening. “Make a wish.”

“Oh c’mon--”

“I mean it. Make a wish.”

At my side, Glen chuckles. He’s pushed himself upright and has once again donned the look that makes it appear that nothing is wrong. I’ve noticed him switching back and forth between the two too often lately, but he claims it’s because he doesn’t want to worry our friends.

“There aren’t even any candles for me to blow out.” I make a second attempt for the cake, but she jerks it away again. If I try, I could easily pluck it from her grasp, but it’s the thought that counts. “Alright, fine.” I close my eyes, clear my throat, and pause for a moment. “I wish I could have some cake.”

“Zoné!” I can hear the smile and the unvoiced laughter in her voice.

“Um!!” I squeeze my eyes shut and try to think of something acceptable enough. Seconds pass before a single thought runs through my head.

I want my brother to come home.

When my eyes open, Jun’s attention is fixed on me. I take a breath, ready to say something -- anything -- to try and announce that I’ve made my wish.

She just nods.

The cake doesn’t get pulled away a third time.

I haven’t thought about my brother since our run-in at the cemetery. To be honest, I’ve been avoiding thinking about him. Running into Starling at the university didn’t help any, especially when Lysander insisted on talking to her.

Maybe I should have wished for the courage to corner him and force him to come home. The power to make what I want come true.

But then Jun places the cake down on the table next to me and takes a seat next to Glen. The chatter resumes, too loud compared to the previous silence. As soon as the first forkful of cake is in my mouth, the others dig in as well. Ayu thumps me on the back and flashes a double thumbs up.

Mal presses a hand to his cheek, saying something about how delicious the cake is, and Beat shoves him and mentions how he helped.

I watch their activity swirl around me, the sugar of the icing still on my tongue, and I realize that in order to make Catoir go home, I have to leave too.

I’m not certain I want to leave this all behind me just yet.

Jun’s foot taps against mine as Glen’s cell rings. “You okay?” she asks, though her voice is barely loud enough to be heard over the noise.

“Yeah… just thinking…”

Glen frowns at his phone as he pulls it free and gets up to move across the room. Beat drops into his vacated spot and takes another forkful of cake.

“Don’t think too hard, dude. It makes you wrinkle.” Ayumu crashes into me with an arm around my shoulder and a forkful of cake in the other hand.

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”

“No, it does. I am famous, so I’m right.”

We’re all laughing again, but the sound of more phones going off disturbs the sound.

Robbie glances around as Jun and I pull out our phones, but no one else. “You might be famous, Ayu, but I don’t know about popular.”

Ayumu squawks in protest.

Mal squeezes in on my other side. “More cake for us!”

“I should feel guilty about eating Zoné’s birthday cake that Jun worked so hard on, but I’m not.”

“I helped!”
My thumb hesitates over the screen. It’s a text from Lysander. If I read it now, it will ruin the moment. I’m already having a hard time juggling my friends and Meliora. I don’t want it interrupting now.

Jun types furiously at her phone. Across the room, Glen stares at his, and, for just a moment, back at me.

I don’t need to know what the text says to know that the night is over. “Well, you guys, we should probably cut the party here. It is a Monday, after all.” I slap my hands to my knees and push myself to my feet.

The four who don’t know what’s going on groan in protest. “But we only just got the cake.”

“Yeah, and you promptly devoured over half of it. Leave some of it for me, why don’t you.” I pick it up and take a few more bites. It really is super delicious, even with the dread of Meliora and the foggy cloud that is the thought of my brother hanging over my head.

Jun jumps to her feet as well. “Oh my gosh. I have to clean. I am sorry, I did not realize what time it is.”

“We’ll help--!” Beat starts to rise, but she puts a hand on his shoulder and he stops.

“Thank you,” she says with a smile. “But it is almost done. It will be easy for me to finish.”

Glen picks up on some unspoken cue. “We’re sorry this went on for so long. Tell your uncle thanks for us.”

Between the two of them, Ayumu, Mal, Robbie, and Beat are herded out of the apartment.

I’m still standing awkwardly with the cake in one hand, ignoring the ringing of my phone indicating more texts. Glen makes a show of leaving as well. I hear them chatting as they tromp down the back stairs to the street.

In the silence that follows, I can hear the white noise from the restaurant below. The few remaining patrons, the staff cleaning up for the night, the hum of fans fading one by one.

Jun turns to me, something close to regret on her face. “Zoné, we have to go.”

“Why, though? We don’t have any information to go off of.”

“It’s a mandatory event. Lysander says it starts at 11.”

I glance at my phone, finally reading our Informant’s message. I hate to do this to you because I know you’re hanging out with friends right now, but it’s a mandatory event for all participants. “It’s not even 10:30.”

Her expression twists as the door opens behind her. Glen reappears, glancing between us for a moment before allowing a crooked smile. “I thought we could talk about the event. I don’t know what to tell my teammates.”

Jun tucks her hands into her pockets and hunches her shoulders. “What does your message say?”

He holds up his phone and clears his throat. “Subject: In the spirit of things. Message: All Hallows Eve, 23:00. A modern Charon, the tracks are his Styx. Please inform your team that participation is mandatory.”

I blink, waiting for the follow-up. “That’s it?”

“That’s all she wrote,” he says, showing me the message.

“We’ll that’s dumb. Who is Charon and what do sticks have to do with anything?

Jun jumps as our phones go off again. I don’t even bother checking mine. “Lysander says that he and Kaito think it’s related to something rumored to be a dead--” She squeaks and presses a hand to her mouth.

“A dead what?” I pull up the text message. “A dead body train? What’s that?”

“Legend has it that the Dead Body Train would run from Whitechapel tube station to the Royal London Hospital,” Glen reads from his screen. “It was said to carry the bodies of the dead away from the hospital. A rumor cropped up that the empty rooms under the Whitechapel station were used as a temporary morgue.” He gives a helpless shrug and the hint of a frown. “At least, that’s what a search turns up.”

We exchange looks. I ask what I think is the most valid question: “Where’s Whitechapel?”

Jun comes up with a better response. “There’s only one hospital in Eminence, and that’s the one owned by ALICE. You don’t think--”

Glen cuts her off by crossing his arms in the air before him. “Nope. No way. There’s only six main lines in the city. The two that circle through the third district, and then the ones that run north-south and east-west. Everything else has been sealed up.” He hesitates, glancing down at his phone curiously. “ALICE sealed them up when they moved in.”

There’s a beat of silence before our phones go off again. Jun groans in protest so I open Lysander’s next text. “The trains have been shut down?”

She ruffles her hair. “I cannot understand what this game is asking us to do. How are we supposed to participate if we cannot figure it out?”

“Isn’t that the point of it all?” Glen stares hard at his phone. It forms odd shadows on his face, but he looks a lot more energized than he did earlier in the evening. He must be having fun discussing this with us rather than trying to ponder it out on his own. “This is an elimination round. Anyone who doesn’t show up will get kicked out.”

A huge sigh trickles from Jun. She deflates as the air leaves her lungs, slumping forward until her center of gravity threatens to tip her over.

Glen inches closer, nudging his shoulder under her chin to keep her upright. “No giving up. If you give up, then that means I have to, too.”

The silence that follows can’t even be broken by the noise downstairs. It stifles the shrill tone of yet another text message.

She doesn’t move, simply content to lean her weight on Glen’s shoulder. I take it upon myself to deliver the final message.

“Jonas says we’re stupid and should consider telling our teams to walk to the hospital so… Walk to the hospital. What? Who’s Jonas? I’m confused.” I look helplessly at the other two, only to find them standing up straight and alert.

Glen shouts in triumph before either of us can speak. “Yes! That makes sense. Yeah, you should be able to walk to the hospital along the train tracks.”

“Uh…” Jun and I exchange a glance. “Did you not just say that the tracks don’t run to the hospital?”

“No, they don’t, but there are old tunnels that can be used by pedestrians that branch off from the main tracks. Maintenance tunnels, old paths, stuff like that.”

“Glen, those rumors are old, even by Old World standards.” I rub my cheekbone, trying to fend off the exhaustion. “There’s no way we’d make it through.”

He struggles for a moment, hands waving in the air before him. There’s an air of helplessness that suffocates us. “Do you have any other options?”

“I think staying here and eating my cake is a pretty damn good one.” To prove my point, I drop back down to my chair and return to shoveling the cake into my mouth.

Footsteps pound up the stairs, and the three of us react too slowly as we turn towards the door. Jun’s uncle appears in the doorway, and arches an eyebrow in response to our stares.

He’s barely a head taller than Jun, balding, and sporting a pair of wire rim glasses. He yanks them off and rubs them against his shirt. He asks her something in Chinese, and she responds.

They hold a conversation that gets more rapid and urgent in the brief moment that it happens. And I’m not a hundred percent certain because their accent makes sounds run together in my brain, I’m pretty sure that they mention Meliora more than once between them.

“Come,” she announces, turning to me and Glen. “We are going. We will walk to the hospital.” Her shoulders are pulled back and she stands straighter. Less than a minute ago she looked ready to collapse. Now, she moves with a purpose. “Uncle Bao says that there should be access tunnels that will take us there.”

I want to keep arguing, but I clamber to my feet and bite back a sigh.

The full force of Bao’s gaze shifts to me. All sensation goes out of my legs at the weight of his stare and it’s all I can do to remain standing. “You promise that you will get my neice home safe?”

“Yes, sir,” Glen and I answer at the same time.

He steps aside and the path to the door is clear. “That is all an uncle can ask. Happy birthday, Zoné.”

Jun jerks her head in the direction of the exit, pulling her coat down from the rack by the door. I still don’t want to go, but Glen shoves on his shoes. He’s texting at the same time. Must be his team.

“Thanks, sir.” I stumble to join them, and we take a quick moment to gather our things before stepping out onto the landing. It’s brisk and chilly, but not too cold.

Jun’s boots ring out on the metal stairs as she hurries down. “Come. The nearest station is about a block away.” At the bottom, she turns to look at Glen. “You are not going to come, are you?”

His smile is more like a fish hook that catches his upper lip and tugs. “I’m not needed. I have to message my team so they don’t get booted.”

Glen descends a step and I reach out to grasp his shoulder. I take a breath, fully prepared to say something deep and meaningful, but nothing comes.

Instead, when he turns and his eyes land on me, his expression softens. “Thanks. For helping me think through the clue.”

“We didn’t do anything.”

The smile returns and he shifts the dynamic between us by patting my shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, okay? Text me after the event, too.” He makes his way to the bottom of the stairs and pauses long enough for Jun to ruffle his hair. Then he takes off at a brisk pace, the opposite direction from the train station.

Jun and I stare at each other, the distance of the stairs separating us. Somehow, impossibly, she looks taller. She holds out her hand to me. “Let us go.”

I’ve got no choice but to obey. She has an air about her that makes it so I can’t say ‘no’.

She waits until I’m at her side before turning and leading the way to the station.

A shiver ripples across her shoulders, down her arm. I reach out and take her hand in mine, pressing our palms together -- pressing our arms together as I step in against her.

Her gaze remains focused forward, but I feel the tension ease just a bit from her posture. “Let us go,” she repeats, and we take the first step down into the darkness together.

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