Afterlife: Reincarnation

37

August 22

LANE

I peered over the edge of my cards, carefully eyeing my opponents. Each of them had their gaze cast downward, no one seemingly willing to meet the others view. Looking back to my hand, I bit my lip.

This was all a game of strategy. Of knowing not only what you had, but the indication of what your competition may have. Knowing their tells, and how to decipher their intentions.

Mia and I had played poker with friends countless times back in college. It was a weekly gather of girls, all of us more interested in gossip than the game. But it was good fun, and a great way to learn the skill without the risk of money or clothing lost, a theme that always seemed to be present when we played with guys.

Glancing down at the small cluster of pretzels, popcorn, and chocolate chips on the table, I smirked. Candy was still better than having to take off my top. Although, in this heat, I wasn't completely opposed to getting butt assed naked the second I climbed into bed.

"Erin, your go," Clayton called, out, shuffling his cards around.

I had noticed from previous nights, that he tended to do that when he didn't have a very good hand. As if moving the cards around, changing their order, would somehow also change their denomination.

Erin pursed her lips, her eyes carefully considering the cards she held.

She was a harder person to read, her eyes always neutral, the only change in her face being the pursing of her lips. It was something she did often, even away from the game, and I had yet to decipher if it was indicative of anything more than a habit.

We had been playing for just over an hour, and so far, Smith was winning. His moderate pile of candy was both taunting and impressive, more than double each of the rest of us. He attributed his skill from his youth, growing up in Las Vegas. Of course, since he moved away when he was only twenty, I couldn't give the city much credit for his skill as he would like to imply.

I, myself, had a decent hand. A low straight, fives to nines. Not great, but I hoped it was enough to win back my loss from the previous hand.

The day had been slow, much like the one previous. And the one before that. After a two week stretch of constant, and gruesome cases, the last several days had been noticeably and eerily dull. And where on one had we welcomed the break, both for our own weary bodies and the cease in torment of the region, we still felt an odd tension, waiting for the return. It was a tendency we couldn't seem to drop, no matter how much time passed, each day moving on without incident.

As Erin placed a card down, retrieving another as substitute, Rob stepped up to our little game. Leaning a hand on the back of Erin's chair, he whistled.

"Great hand, hon," he grinned. "You going to play it like that, or going for four of a kind?"

She groaned loudly, slamming her hand on the table. "For fuck sake, Rob!"

Of course, he only laughed in return. She turned in her chair, slapping him hard on to the leg repeatedly. Stepping away from her assault, he continued to laugh, as he turned his attention towards me.

"Lane, can I talk to you?"

I eyed him carefully, suddenly wary. He was our team lead, and I suddenly had the feeling of being called into the principals office. Nodding, I stood, setting my cards on the table.

"Want me to play for you?" Ariel offered, appearing out of thin air, as he seemed to do. Smiling, I offered him a nod, as I followed Rob towards comm. I could hear the round of groans as I left, Smith muttering that Ariel always won, and that was why he wasn't allowed to play anymore.

The walk to comm was silent, Rob giving no indication of what our little meeting would be about. I quickly traced over the recent weeks, wondering if there was anything I may have done to cause issue. I couldn't think of anything, but of course, I had only a short time to consider it.

Reaching our destination, we took a seat on adjacent corners of the work space, the long island in the middle of the room. The top was littered with equipment; cameras, gear, iPads. A little bit of everything. I tried to appear relaxed, unaffected, when in reality I was nervous.

Rob smirked at me, his eyebrow raising. "You look scared."

"Do I?" I asked, trying for casual disinterest.

He only nodded. "You can relax, its nothing bad," he commented, pulling a folder towards him. "I actually wanted to talk to you about your photos so far."

"Oh?"

"I've been sending various images back to New York intermittently since we got here. It's a habit, just to show them our progress and what we've taken so far. They can get a feel for any stories they may want to run, and images they may want to use." Looking back up to me, he folded his hands over the folder on the table. "I sent them some of the photos you took the night of the village attack," he said quietly.

I nodded, suddenly mute. That was a night I longed to forget, but knew that my work would make that impossible. When it was obvious to him that I wasn't about to reply, he continued.

"They were impressed, Lane," he said matter-of-factly. "Very impressed. I just got an email back this morning, and they are thinking of running a series in an upcoming issue."

My eyes widened, my mouth falling slack.

"They wont run until we come home, of course. They want to talk to you, interview you, and get your take on that night. But your images were the best from that day, and they want to move forward with them."

I could hear my heart beating in my ears, and my mouth felt dry.

Was he serious? I knew there was a very slim possibility of maybe one of my images being used at some point, but never did I think a series. An actual account.

I didn't know what to feel.

Proud? Sure, I was proud. I had worked for this my whole life, and without a doubt this was my goal. To be featured in one of the most infamous publications in the world.

But on the same token, I felt torn. To capitalize on the night that ruined so many, to have to relive it, tell of that night, scared me. I had only just come to terms with it, learning to push away the memories, and moved past them. Now, I would not only have to remember them, but tell them. It was a double edged sword.

"This is a big deal, Lane," he said, offering me a smile. "You should be proud."

Finally, I nodded, forcing a reaction from myself.

"Thank you," I stuttered, clearing my throat to find my voice. "I honestly didn't expect this."

Rob grinned, amused by my shock. "There will be a lot more work once you get home," he said. "Usually when doing a story like this it takes a bit, several interviews, review of the images. Things like that. So you will be in New York for a bit once we get home, but I have a feeling this will open a lot of doors for you. I wouldn't be surprised if NG keeps you on, at least in some form."

I shook my head, my head spinning.

"I know I've given you a lot," he smirked, pushing the folder beneath his hands towards me. "This is their email correspondences with me. Praise for your work, as well as comments on various images. I figured you would want to review it."

Taking the folder, I touched the top gingerly as Rob pushed up from the table. Patting me on the back, he offered me praise.

"You did good, kid,"