Monotone | ✔️

Chapter Seventeen

When we set off the next day, the atmosphere was unbearably tense and frigid, reminding me of a lowly Winter night amongst a desolate landscape. Yet the coldness was not from the time of year, but from my callous companions, who seemed unsettled, morose; deservedly so. We should be continuing our escapade with Jay. We should be walking on with hope and heads held high, but how could we when such a defeat still loomed in the past, steadily walking alongside us in an invisible ghost.

Robyn was the most affected by our loss, obviously. I swore I could still smell blood lingering on her hands from when she mercilessly stabbed those three men... Would she do the same to Chris and I? Was anyone safe amongst this corrupted world?

As well as this, Robyn's suspicion of our doubt in her was sneaking through in the looks she gave us, the way her fingers repeatedly scattered over her side, only to find a meagre knife and pitiful gun. Even our unit was divided, and as we progressed, no speech or conversation emitted from our mouths, only stony silences that our surroundings seemed to enjoy.

Despite our loss of member - something that still created a knot in my throat - we sustained our usual speed and formation in which we walked: Chris at the front holding the candle, me behind and Robyn at the back. It felt good to leave that tunnel, as it was good to leave any other tunnel, for each one heralded bad memories and experiences I yearned to forget, yet feared I never would... Why can't the happy occurrences be kept longer, instead of all the bad ones, the sad ones, the horrific ones...?

Plodding steadily along, my eyes scrutinized the walls around me. I noticed words emblazed along them, and halted Chris, pointing to one of the suspected slogans with a finger. Holding the candle up, Chris illuminated the place, and Robyn reluctantly stood at my side to observe.

Think you've come far, eh? Think again.

Chris moved along.

You'll die here, we'll make sure of that. We always make sure of that...

Bile rose to my throat.

We have weapons of the most disastrous kind. You'll suffer, you'll collapse, you'll meet your demise...

We traversed further along, only to stop when a rotting corpse greeted our eyes. From the despondent patches of skin and dried blood coating it sporadically, it had not been here long... It's face was seemingly melted - like the people in my dreams - the eyes not in their sockets but mollified on it's cheeks...

The structure of it seemed rigid and paralysed, limbs splayed stiffly at its sides. It's hair was charred and crumbly. Extending a finger to the nest of curls, I touched one, only for it to crumble at my touch.

"Electricity." I breathed, "this was done using electricity." Pausing, I stopped to think. "Hold the candle to the floor. Be careful."

Chris obliged to my request, catching on to my train of thought as he squatted, reaching as far as he dare in the circumstances. Robyn lingered to the side, obviously not thrilled by our mysterious dilemma and the thought of working as team; she had been silent for most of the journey.

"There." I said, squatting beside Chris and looking to where his light illuminated. Water lapped at where the light ended, looking gluttonous as it reached with encroaching hands. Straining my ears, I managed to make out a faint crackling sound that dully pierced the still, thick atmosphere, "There must be electric cables somewhere in the water. As soon as you come into contact with the water, you get electrocuted."

"And we're meant to get across it." Robyn drawled, speaking up for the first time in ages. Her tone was as condescending and as critical as usual; it was clear that part of her personality was yet to be altered. Should I be grateful or not for this? I didn't know. In that moment, however, I didn't appreciate it one bit.

"Yes. All we need is a raft or something."

"Oh yes. Because I always pack a raft when going somewhere. Who do you think I am, bloody Bear Grylls?" Robyn retorted, a scowl etched deeply on her freckled features.

"Guys, shut up." Chris muttered.

"Can you at least try to co-operate? I don't know about you but I want to survive. And in order to do that we need to get across here." I replied, sending Chris an apologetic look.

"How can I co-operate when you're being all snooty? Oh look at me, I'm Tempest, the clever girl who changed my name. Look at me, I'm the know-it-all who can save all of us!"

"Oh look at me, I'm Robyn, the insane girl who stabbed three people." I muttered in response. Bad idea. I could almost feel the impudent, hostile glare that was being directed at me, those freaky eyes that bore through the darkness to land on my soul... Robyn took a threatening step toward me, one fist clenched, the other holding the hilt of her knife.

Chris stood up and stood between us, looking distressed, angry and tired. "Stop it. We're all on the same side here, remember?" He said lowly, as if we were animals that needed to calm down.

With a huff and a flick of her straggly auburn hair, Robyn retreated, eyes still blazing with relentless fire.

"Alright." Chris said, I averting my gaze, "In order to get over this, we do need a raft of some sort. But to get all of the materials for it, we'll have to go outside."

"But what are we going to use? There are robots all over the place. There's no woods, no trees... And we can't use metal because it might conduct electricity." I interjected quietly, feeling sullen like a kicked puppy, or a child steadily being scolded by their favourite teacher.

"Around the city there will be plastic. We just need a thick sheet of that, or glass. It needs to be able to accommodate three people, not sink and not be conductive. Only one of us will be able to go, otherwise we may be spotted by the robots."

"I'll go." I said. I noticed Robyn wasn't even paying attention, she was facing away from us, silently seething and trying to get her temper under control.

"Are you sure?" Chris asked. Did he doubt my ability to find something as simple as a thick board of plastic?

"Yes." I replied, forcing as much conviction into my voice as I could. "I'm sure."

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