Within These Walls

Life After Dark: 15 (WTW Sequel)

(Updated every Sunday by 6pm EST)

It's chaos when the others get back from shopping and find the dead bodies in the cabin. Grocery bags are discarded by the door as questions and accusations begin to fly. The Blank, Timothy Bertrand, had never actually been a confirmed flipper. He tagged along with one of the dead kids who'd flipped a couple of months ago, claiming he'd done so a week before then. With everything that was going on, no one questioned it.

"How do we know he flipped either?" Janie accuses, glaring at Jones. "He doesn't have an ability. For all we know, he's inactive, too."

Marcus crouches over by the Blank, studying him quietly. He turns the kid's face to the side. I note the familiar blood trickling out of his ears. Confirmation of what he became. Jones hasn't moved from the floor in the last couple of hours. His close brush with death seems to have drained him. That, or the frustration he took out on the corpse of his attacker.

"Go to hell," Jones barks. "I don't owe you any explanations."

Janie walks over to Marcus. "You know I'm right. Jones came to us, claiming he flipped way back after we got out. You're telling me his ability hasn't manifested after seven months? I call bullshit."

"I gotta agree with the lady," Pablo says, arms crossed as he leans against the doorframe. "We tried to play nice and let everyone in, no questions asked. Look what it cost us."

"I'm not a goddamn Blank!" Jones shouts as he leaps to his feet. He stalks toward Pablo, red in the face. "You think you're such a hotshot, huh? Well, if your shitty ability was worth a damn, you'd be able to see the truth for yourself."

"My ability is telling me you'll get knocked on your ass if you don't back the hell up, kid," Pablo retorts.

"I say we throw him out," Janie says.

Pablo snorts. "And let him blank and kill people?"

"You mean like how she killed people?" Jones jabs a finger my way. "Come on, guys. It's a matter of time before it happens again. We've been living with a ticking time bomb and you're coming after me? She's the one you should be getting rid of, not me!"

Janie frowns at that, and I'm almost certain Marcus's shoulders stiffen. I know there's little chance Jones's words will make a difference, but I still feel a spark of fear. Uncertainty. Damn. I was really hoping this wouldn't turn into a discussion about whether or not I deserve to be here.

I know Pablo and Janie have nothing against Jones, and Jones has nothing personal against me. Everyone's running on fear and adrenaline right now. They're jumpy, likely to do something we might all live to regret. Best thing to do is to keep my mouth shut and not spook anyone into pulling the trigger—figuratively or otherwise.

I lean back in my chair and massage my brow. So much for safety in numbers. A couple of days ago, there were two dozen of us. Now we're down to just six. We can't seem to catch any breaks.

"You all need to calm down," Willow says, ever the voice of reason. Her nose is red and raw and her eyes are puffy from all of the crying she did earlier. "We've lost enough people as it is without attacking each other."

"What's wrong with you?" Janie asks her.

Willow looks away. "Nothing."

"Marcus, what do you make of all of this?" Pablo asks impatiently.

"I'm not interested in this conversation." Marcus stops inspecting the dead kids and walks over to us. "Help me get them out of here."

Jones blanches. "We're not actually staying here, are we?"