𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒂

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〔    PART ONE 〕
santa barbara



The spray of warm water fell like pinpricks of ice across her skin. Every breath filled with the taste of salt and copper.

            "Almost there," she lied, the words leaving her chapped lips so easily as the boat bobbed in the gentle waves.

            Almost there.

               Yet no one could hear her. Still as a stone, eyes closed against the wind and spray of surf, chest hardly rising as it struggled between the breaths. Not dead yet, but close to it. Same as her, she realized, the warm blood trickling down her skin. Her shirt was slicked with it. Sweat, blood, exhaustion. Let the spray of the surf wash it all away...

            The engine slowly sputtered, struggling to keep itself running and managing a few pathetic groans before cutting off completely. The boat continued on, cutting seamlessly through the heavy early morning fog, what momentum remained pushing it forward just a little more. There was nothing else now, nothing but the gentle sway of the waves lapping against the aged metal walls to keep them moving.

            Her eyes felt like wells of glue in her skull, refusing to move without protest. Blotches of black danced in her vision when she looked around the inside of the boat. Her gaze paused at the still form lying across from her. A moment passed, long and unending. And another. Slowly, with great effort, his chest rose and fell slightly, then fell again.

            She let out the breath she had been holding. He was alive. As was she, for the most part. They had made it out. But there was no joy to it, no sudden rush of relief and lightness that usually followed when the heavy cloud of imminent death had lifted. There was just exhaustion, emptiness. As if she had been hollowed out and the tattered and torn paper thin skin was all that was left of her.

            "We're going to have to row," she said aloud to the still form across from her. Her chapped lips pulled into a small smile, the taste of blood in her otherwise parched mouth. "I'll go first then it's your turn in a while... alright?"

            The small choking noise she made was meant to be a chuckle, but it was far from the intended noise as she reached down. Her fingers brushed the cool metal handle of the oar.

            It was the last thing she remembered before the boat was gone. The bay and the thick fog, the taste of salt, the distant cries and thunder of gunfire, echoed away into the cool dark walls of the aquarium.

            A dim winter light seeped through the dirty windows that needed so badly to be cleaned, catching the blue paint on the walls. It was made like this purposefully, to give the illusion of being deep beneath the waves of the sea, and she found herself drown in world of cerulean blue.

            At the end of the hallway the door was slightly ajar, amber light melting out into onto a seamless floor. Voices, warm and tinged with a familiarity that tugged at her chest in a way that hurt more than the knife wound in her chest. Words couldn't be made out, the sounds muffled and echoing by the time they reached her all the way at the end of the hallway, but she could hear the lightness in their tone, the way the pitch rose and fell with a soft peal of laughter.

            "Manny."

            She would know that voice anywhere. She could already see his smile, tanned cheeks full with color as a grin tugs at the edge of his lips. A smile that had made many a girl back home swoon. That, or maybe it was because of the accent.

            The others were there too, she could hear the soft murmur of their voices and she started towards the door, wanting if anything to be inside the room that was full of light and warmth and laughter. Anything but being out here in the cold and hollow space, the blue walls that were rimmed with a sparkling layer of frost.      

            Mel's voice.

            It was soft, calm. But it stopped Abby in her tracks. And even through the thick metal walls and doors she could see her turn, deep brown eyes locking on her. Hatred. Anger. The red-hot fire from Abby's betrayal simmering just below the surface, ready to burst. Or that's what she had been expecting, from one of the last times she had seen her. Except here there was nothing but warmth, a certain gentle kindness that she always wore. A pale hand set over her swollen belly.

            Alice, with her favorite squeaky toy dangling her mouth strolled through the figures, soaking up all the pats she could and looking for someone who would be down for a game of fetch. She still had such a puppyish way to the way she walked, furry paws clicking across the floor as Owen stooped down to grab her toy, tossing it a little ways off.     

            "Owen..."

            She found herself running, bare feet pounding soundlessly against the cold surface of the hall. She could feel her braid swinging back and forth, brushing against her back, a familiar weight she had missed so much.

            But even as she ran the door remained at the end of the hallway, only growing further and further away. Their laughter echoed, but dully, fading just as the warm light began to fade.

            She breathed, forcing herself to run faster. The hallway kept growing, cold metal walls stretching only further downward into darkness. The air grew cold, stale, but she didn't slow. She wanted to be there, in that room, laughing and smiling. She wanted to give Alice all the pets she deserved and tell her she had been such a good girl. She wanted to see Nora, and Owen, and...

            She had to see Owen.

            The hallway was long, unending, the deep blue walls giving way to the windows and the paint. Faded, peeling paint, happy characters chipped and covered in a layer of dust. The aquarium was gone and the pediatrics ward of St. Mary's has reformed in its place.

            She knew where she was, the air turning so cold it tore the breath from her lungs.

            No. She wasn't doing this again. Not again.

            She took a step back, and another, back striking something solid. Hands, twisted and encrusted with a thick fungus, wrapped around her biceps. She turned, just in time to see the growths sprouting from an empty face, dripping down the yellowed section of mandible that stuck out at an unnatural angle. The shoulders rose, hot air and spittle rushing out in a series of clicks.

            "Abby!"

            The sunlight was blinding when she forced her eyes opened, the clicker from her nightmare standing above the boat. Thin body twisted over the edge of the boat as its body quivered, a scream of victory torn from ragged lungs.

            She barely heard Lev's hoarse cry before the thing lunged for them.

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