Electric Love {Minsung}

Chapter 55: The Ampere

not at me crying while writing this. sorry in advance.

Howon had parked a meat refrigeration truck in front of the hostel. When no one was around, he backed it up as close to the blue door as possible so they could enter without being seen by anyone in the alley. When he gave them the signal, they took turns climbing in. Jisung was the last to enter. Once he was inside, Howon shut the door, leaving them in darkness. Hyunjin lit up just bright enough so they could see one another.

"What kind of a truck is this?" Yeji asked. "It smells back here."

"Is that blood?" Felix asked, looking at the floor.

"It's a meat truck," Seungmin said. He rubbed his face. "I feel like such a ham hock."

Despite the tension, he laughed.

* * *

The ride to Lima was long, nearly seven hundred miles and more than fifteen hours. Howon stopped only once to get gas and let them use the restroom. They slept through much of the drive, trying to escape the anxiety and fatigue. Less than an hour out of Cuzco, a convoy of more than fifty army trucks passed us.

No one spoke about the fracture of the Stray Kids, but the division was apparent. Consciously or not, they now sat in their own groups—those who were staying and those who were going.

In such a confined metal room, and with Yeji present, Minho couldn't help but read everyone's thoughts, even though he struggled not to. Jisung didn't have to read his mind to know how angry he was at Felix. But he wasn't. Even at the academy, Felix had wanted to go home. He supposed that he felt as if he'd deceived him. Felix had stayed only because he'd convinced him it was for his safety. But what they'd dragged him through since then was hardly for his own safety. What they were now planning, sinking the Ampere, certainly wasn't for his safety. He couldn't blame him for leaving. He couldn't blame anyone for leaving. Like he said, he wanted to go with them. But he couldn't. Something held him—something his mother always said. All that's required for the triumph of evil is for good people to do nothing.

They arrived in Lima at two in the morning. They woke to the shuddering of the truck braking and shutting off, then the stringent smell of the ocean breeze as Howon opened the back doors. He didn't know what he expected, but it wasn't this. Howon had brought them to a beautiful tile-roofed villa that overlooked the South Pacific. The house was on ten acres of fenced property at the end of a long, private gravel road surrounded by palm and white-washed orange trees leading up to a large fountain.

Wherever they were, they seemed to be miles from anything else, and for the first time in days, he felt safe. Howon unlocked the villa door, and they went inside. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, they all crashed in real beds with clean, sweet-smelling cotton sheets.

* * *

Jisung awoke the next morning long after the sun had risen. He just lay for a while, enjoying the comfort of a real bed, then got up and walked out to the kitchen. The smell of coffee brewing filled the dining area. Minho was already up. He was thumbing through a travel book about Peru.

"Good morning," he said.

He looked up and smiled. "Good morning. I'd ask how you slept, but I think I already know." He smiled again. "A real bed with real sheets and a real pillow. I almost felt like a real human again."

"You look like a real human," he said. He walked toward him. "What are you looking at?"

"Just this book that was here. It has pictures of Peru. Did you know that there are almost four thousand native varieties of potatoes in Peru?"