The Flames that Engulfed Us

Chapter 6: My Wittle Jelly Baby

Lincoln couldn't keep running forever. It seemed that me and the bus driver, however, could. Lincoln's face was drained, his legs naturally slowing until he'd eventually stop and keel over. He breathed hard, unable to speak as he struggled to catch his breath. We kept having to stop more and more frequently for longer amounts of time. Our purser was going to catch up with us.

His raggedy breathing didn't stop. He was fully stopped, leaning over with his hands on his knees. One look at him confirmed we couldn't go on like this for much longer. We were someplace I didn't know. It seemed to be some sort of urban place, with doors and alleyways. Dumpsters seemed rare because the garbage all went into rivers on the street. We would have to turn a corner real quick in hopes of confusing him. Then we could try one of the doors of the looming buildings. 

"Do you think you can do one more quick sprint?"

I was asking a lot of him. My fingers crossed that we couldn't die again.

He looked up at me. He didn't have enough breath to answer, but I still got a curt head nod and that was enough.

"Three," I started to count, "two, one. Go."

We sprinted, and I pulled open a random door, thanking whatever luck I had in this place that it was unlocked. I practically shoved him in and pulled it closed behind me. Lincoln ducked out of view of any of the windows. I hesitated, my hand trailing the lock. I left it alone, deciding that it would be less suspicious to leave it the way it was. I ducked down.

The heavy rumbling of the bus driver's pounding feet was muffled by the walls, but I still felt better as the sound of the man passed. The driver didn't know where we were.

Should I have been worried that Lincoln was clutching his stomach on the floor? Probably, but I only slid down next to him, smiling in relief. I didn't know how it would work that we ran away. That might have just been the plan anyway.

His breathing slowed, becoming its normal in and out, in and out.

"How were you able to run like that?"

I suppose I knew he would ask that, but I didn't want to answer it. I couldn't answer it, and I wasn't used to feeling dumb.

"I have no idea, but it is really cool. I'm finally in good shape."

"You were in fine shape before. This is a superhumanly good shape. It's not natural."

I just looked at him. He was right, but I didn't like the way he said it.

"Are you jealous?"

"No. I'm just... I'm not jealous."

He was jealous. He was jealous of me. He was going to regret that.

"Awe," I mockingly cooed, "is my wittle baby jelly?"

He sat up, looking at me in the way that normally got him whatever he wanted. I wasn't scared of him. I laughed. This whole thing was kind of funny in a non-funny way. Fine, it wasn't funny, but I needed a coping mechanism. He stared at me, looking unamused.

"I'm not jealous. I'm happy for you."

Yeah, right. That's what that strangled voice meant. This wasn't as fun as I'd thought it would be.

"Alright," I lied, "I believe you."

He looked surprised like he hadn't expected me to give in so easily. I smiled, slipping my hand easily into his.

"I know this is going to sound messed up, but I'm really glad you're here with me. I mean, I'm not glad you're here, but I'm glad we're together if that makes any sense."

"Yeah. It makes all the sense in the world." I answered. 

His face was dangerously close to mine. I turned my head slightly, and it was like the first time all over again. He was the only thing in that messed up world in that moment. He pulled back, looking at me. I tried to lunge forwards again, latch onto him again, but he held me back.

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

Then he pulled me closer and we were kissing again. Then I pulled back. I needed a little time to process how awesome everything still was. The passion slowly faded, and I began to take in our surroundings. We were in a kitchen with cold metal tables, sinks, and shelves. A checkerboard floor was under us.

"We need to figure out what we're going to do."

"That can wait," he murmured, already moving back towards me.

How distracting he was being right then. The worst part was how much I liked it. And how little I really felt compelled to be productive. Oh, why not?

What can I say other than, time flies when you're having fun. The sky outside was dimming.

"We could sleep here," my boyfriend offered.

Um, where else would we sleep? Our options were very limited. We could have explored the rest of the building, but Lincoln looked so tired. Funny, I still felt like I could run a marathon. I got towels to use as blankets and curled up next to him. It was surprisingly comfortable, but I couldn't fall asleep. Lincoln had no trouble.

I let an hour pass, trying to bargain with myself, but it seemed like I physically wasn't going to be able to sleep. Interesting that I had no difficulty the night before. I got up, silently celebrating as Lincoln remained peacefully asleep.

I paced around the kitchen. I don't know if you know this about kitchens with the thin metal that makes up everything, but they have no appeal that comes from observing it for another hour. I needed to see something new. There was still the rest of the building. Hopefully, it wasn't a horror movie, in which case, I was going to die. And just a random thought, can the already dead die?

I poked my head out the door. A small hall greeted me, the kind of hall used to host cheap parties. Absolutely no one was there. That was a good sign. I stepped out, taking one more step until I was in the center of the huge room. It felt strange being in a place like that at night. Alone. I was going to move on.

The only sign of an exit was a door leading out to a larger street, a place I did not want to go. Stairs were barely visible in the dark, tucked away into a back corner. I was feeling bored, so why not mount the foreboding stairs?