Blue

Under the Bridge

He couldn't shake the feeling as he walked with Curtis and the rest of the Ensigns to the mess hall. The pre-ritual of a Hunt was starting, though, and he knew he needed to get it together. This was his one job. This was the one thing he was still good for. He needed to make sure that his head was still on the right way. He ran down the list. The selection ceremony. Donning his armor. Leading the way. Dividing the Ensigns into their Hunting formation. He was fine. This was just another Hunt. Joel would be waiting by the doorway of the mess hall, like he usually was, waiting for Adam to show up so they could slip quietly away from the excitement. He needed to get it together quickly.

The others filtered into the room, the floor vibrating with the increase in energy and shouting. Rose led the way, her face grim and gracious. She was a lover of tradition. She understood it intimately, in a way that escaped Adam now. She had propelled the trainee's excitement about joining the Hunt ten fold. The look on the trainee's faces was nothing short of horrific. Their mouths were wide, their eyes even wider. They were yelling, screaming. They had picked certain Ensigns to emulate; Adam could recognize the names of his fellow Ensigns as they left the trainee's lips like fervent prayers. The longing on their faces, the empty desire to join the ranks of the Ensigns was horrible to see, even more so than usual. All he could see was his mother's mouth opening, crowded with sharp teeth, as he looked upon the wide mouths screaming in excitement of the impending Hunt. He couldn't stand to see the way that Rose lifted the arms of the other Ensigns like they were Roman champions of the famous Coliseum. He couldn't stand the way he could read the excitement on their faces. He hovered outside of the room with Curtis, watching the way the heads all flicked violently to face them, the wonder in their eyes unsettling. He was mythic now. He had lived too long. Was this is? Had the dream been an omen, a warning that this was his last battle? By perverting his mother and Blue, was it somehow trying to tell him that the monsters were going to deliver him to the ranks of the dead?

Joel locked eyes with Adam, his face impassive, and stood swiftly from his chair. He left the room, not bothering to wait for Adam to place a hand on his shoulder and select him; he didn't even bother to wait for Adam to enter the room. Adam followed Joel to the room now. Joel had figured out Adam couldn't hear. Adam didn't know when, but then, perhaps it was obvious to everyone but the Ensigns that they could no longer hear. Joel didn't ask about it, but they practiced the signs and Adam's ability to read lips. Adam was pretty good now, though, of course, a majority of speech was nothing more than moving lips and tongue still. Lip reading was unreliable at best, even with so much practice. It had been worse when Joel first figured it out and started talking with a slow and exaggerated manner. It had been almost impossible to figure out what shapes Joel was trying to make with his mouth.

"Are you excited?" Joel asked him, his eyes on his hands, trying to make sure he was making the right signs. He wasn't perfect, but it was far easier to understand him.

"Excited," Adam said gently, showing Joel the correct sign for the word.

"Sorry, are you excited?"

'No.' He couldn't tell Joel that he was panicking. He valued Joel's peace of mind too much. He couldn't tell Joel that something was different this time.

"I know. I shouldn't have asked. I hope it's quick," Joel said. He looked back up from his hands to give Adam an empathetic look. It was so strange how things changed. At the beginning of their friendship, Joel had been excited to become an Ensign. Now, he was comforting Adam at the thought of having to go back out there, like he wouldn't have wanted to go either. The tattoos that Adam collected were a deterrent to Joel, not an encouragement the way they were to the other trainees. The thought made Adam feel even worse. If the dream was an omen of death, it was also an omen of Joel's rise to Ensign. If he even survived the Culling. A wave of nausea washed over Adam, sudden and confusing. It had been millenia it felt like since Adam had last eaten. He wasn't even sure he could throw up.