Chapter 15: Wild Calls
Trouble with the unreal, its got no boundaries. It's all teeth and claws and comeback. Viola was learning real slow, as dozens upon hundreds upon legions of feral rats scrabbled and scringed right outside that locked door. The world was always gonna eat her, she reckoned.
Viola bashed into Sadie Crane's arms hard, more tackle than hug. She smashed her face into Sadie Crane's front with all might, sobbing fat salty tears. Her shoulders trembling so hard they might break free and spurt off like bolts at the ceiling.
They wrapped their arms all around her, sucked her in. She was so small, she was small and soft pieces all over and she didn't believe in ghost stories but they scared her all the same.
"I'm sorry," the anarchist fogged out. "I'm so so sorry, sunshine."
Thought: You'll be saying that every day of your life. You've gotta mean it.
"I hate rats," Viola sobbed into Sadie Crane's chest, tears and snot.
Thought: You love her. He couldn't, but you can.
Shuffles and scrapes. Closer every second. It was gonna be a hard next few minutes.
"You think we can get that window?" De'afi queried.
Ze pointed at the window high above, really gave it a look-see. Huh. Yeah. Damn. Not far away. Might make it outta here alive, second time in so many days. Won't get hir praying to old gods but might get hir believing in miracles.
Viola's eyes had gotten rim-reddened from crying and she was breathing like hell. She flashed her eyes at the window, kinda froze there and looked real hard. Didn't wanna believe it was that easy. Not after she did all that sobbing. What else were all those tears for? Jack hell nothing?
"You got another way out?" Sadie Crane queried.
The aviator wagged hir head back and forth. Nope. Damn lucky they weren't in the basement. Same floor as they came in, just got kinda shifted around to a different room. Should be a nice leap out. The only problem was the height and that wasn't even too bad. Four feet off the ground was nothing, especially if they dragged the table over and stood on it. A fall like that wouldn't kill them probably. Ze'd fallen off higher as both a kid and an adult. Sadie Crane too. Even Viola, when her sisters bullied her into climbing trees. It was all about landing right.
"You know how to do this, don't you?" the anarchist queried.
"Yeah, I got it," Viola said back. "Feet and knees together, elbows in, roll."
Thought: You were born for this. This is where you should be and what you should be doing.
De'afi dragged the table over and stood on it, unlatched the window. Cool night air smacked hir in the face, real hard like getting socked straight in the jaw. Had to lean out a second, had to feel it.
Threw their stuff out first, their bags and all. That was just common sense. Maybe not common actually? Nore like stuff you picked up, get on the road long enough? Traveler sense.
Sadie Crane helped Viola onto the table. They let her go out first, let her feel that night air and know they were gonna be okay.
"Breaking into a church," Viola grinned. "That's gotta be, what? Minus nine hundred paradise points?"
"Nah, ten thousand," Sadie Crane said back.
"One million," De'afi suggested.
"Damn," the journalist whistled. "How many we got left?"
"Not enough, sunshine," the anarchist laughed.
They didn't believe in Paradise anymore. Or Damnation. Or the Between, where they lived now. They didn't believe the Old Gods had that kinda structure or mercy. And what would average folk even do with that? If the gods--long dead--were uncaring far away? How would Arcadia have prospered if anyone believed that? How would the Badeers have named themselves oracles? They wouldn't have. And Sadie Crane couldn't tell from halfway down if the world would have been better off. Give it a few more years.
Viola perched for a second, a splinter of glass lacerating her right sleeve. The force of De'afi hurling full bolt into her back spat her out the window in one go. Pushed rest of the way, ze tumbled winded into the outside. Sadie Crane went last, hooting and hollering the whole time.
End of Chapter 15
For what is a ghost if not the end of a very long story?
--Excerpt from "Alive? Dead? Alive!" by Eddanachi