No one expects anything bad to happen. No one expects a school to burn down.
When Skylar's day goes from boring to a battle for survival, she has to choose between saving herself or the girl in her class who happens to be on crutches. Everything is...
The whole place had an eery silence that was only broken by our footsteps. The popcorn machines were broken. Not that I'd tried or anything. Lincoln was mainly leading us. He said he just had a feeling. I was still too shaken to argue the obvious stupidity of following his feelings in a place like this, but all I could see was the blood still fresh on the people.
Lincoln pulled me through a door and up a ramp. I automatically moved to the back middle, the place with the best seats.
"Sky," he started, not even flinching as the screen in front of us blared to life. His voice was drowned out.
"Welcome to what could have been," it said showing an exact video of me and him at that moment. Creepy.
"On September 25th, Lincoln and Skylar perished in a fire at their school. This is what could have been for them if that event had never happened."
The whole thing was set up like a cheesy documentary. It was so weird watching me and Lincoln from a third person perspective. In an hour, it showed how our whole life might have played out, ending with a black funeral for a little white-haired woman. A woman who'd had children and a wedding. A woman who was not me. A life that was not mine. Lincoln looked over at me, his hand resting on top of mine. I instantly knew he felt the same. That couple on the screen was not us.
Then the narrator came on and the tape made a rewinding noise. It showed the fire. It showed Lincoln outside, struggling to get back in, but the teachers all somehow managed to subdue him. This was worse.
It showed a funeral. My funeral. Lincoln stood there the whole time, and so did my parents. Everyone looked so broken, and it killed me. Lincoln held my hand so tight I thought he might break it. His eyes were absorbed on the screen, looking as though he was watching a car wreck, repulsed but unable to look away.
I couldn't watch anymore. Lincoln's voice filled the screen.
"Is he still not eating?"
My mother answered. "No. He's not."
I hesitantly looked again. It was raining, looking so dark. Lincoln stood in the middle of the street, my street, just looking lost. He stared straight up, oblivious to the world around him.
There wasn't a point in watching. I just looked at Lincoln, transfixed by the horror of the movie. This was wrong.
"Let's go." I leaned over to him, resting my head on his chest.
"Go where," he whispered back.
I answered by just taking his hand, still wrapped so firmly around mine. I pulled him out of the seat and he accompanied me, looking around him dumbly. The screen was still flashing color as we left.
I pulled the doors and just wandered the street with Lincoln. He swallowed, still looking messed up by that.
Where were the fires of hell and the suave devil who was a jerk, but surprisingly cool? This was so much worse than I thought, but at least the love of my life was here with me.
If we were going to survive this place, we needed each other. I sat on the curb, needing some time to mull everything over.
We weren't ok and I was fine with that. We didn't know what this place was or who we were in it. I wasn't thrilled about that, but we still had time to figure it all out. We were dead, but that was really just a non-negotiable. I made a decision really quick. I wasn't going back to the motel. If we were going to survive, we needed to get out of their system.
"I'm not going back."
"Back were?"
"Wherever they want us to go. I'm going to stay here."
"Okay."
We sat there for a while, not saying anything to each other. Only when we heard the bus rumbling up did I move. We were both on our feet, running as fast as we could. I heard the bus stop. Then it realized we weren't there, so it went again. It was chasing us. It was going fast, but we had more of an ability to maneuver. And Lincoln knew how to run.
He gestured me into a back street, and the driver was forced to climb out. That bought us time, time that Lincoln used to keel over and start breathing. I guess that was about right. We'd been sprinting for a while, but I didn't even feel winded. And he was in much better shape than me. I'd figure this out later, but we needed to go. Like right then.
This plan was insane. We were insane. This whole thing was insane. We were going to die again.
Lincoln straightened and we were running again. This whole thing was bizarre.
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