Chapter 63: 63. Shellfish

Ivan's voice crackles through the phone's speaker. "She's at the bottom of the tank: phased through the water, maybe. Whatever she did, she can still breath down there."

Thea wrings her hands around her cane. Thank goodness she's safe, but...

Waylon paces. His heels stamp down on a frosted-over floor. The sound travels past the threshold, down the maze of crisscrossing corridors, and it echoes back. Eels slither in Thea's gut. Within the space, tightened wires sing with tension, spurred on by fear and anticipation. Then he snaps. "Why are you just standing there? Do something! Jump in after her — teleport!"

"Nope. Can't. Salt dissolves in water, professor shitbird." Ivan says. "And she's already on the phone anyway: probably the police."

Thea's lungs seize; tears bubble and distort her vision. It wasn't suppose to be like this. Why did I have to come?

Waylon kicks the base of the machine, sending a metallic warble to rend Thea's eardrums. "Gods. Shit. Why didn't you just go back to—"

Her throat. It won't move. She can't force air into her lungs. Crackling lines of pain burn up her esophagus. I messed up. I ruined everything. I-I did this. What do I do?

Ivan's tone sharpens. "That wasn't an option. You know that."

"Then why didn't you catch her? Plenty of space to throw one of those balls. You've got more on you, I know you do."

Thea struggles to her feet, rising on legs asleep with static. It would be better if I left, right?

"I used the last one trying to catch her. Fucking had her too, but a cat came out of nowhere and attacked me."

She stumbles to the doorway and grasps onto the metal frame; cold wind flows past her, off into the dark. I'm so disgusting. Horrible. I'm not leaving for their sake. Only mine.

Waylon scoffs. "A cat? What? This isn't live action The Cat in the Hat or some shit."

Ivan scoffs back, louder. "Might as well be. Thing teleported between my feet, tripped me, and wouldn't fuck off; my leg looks like it tried to eat it."

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She teeters into the maze, running one hand along the wall's pocked concrete. I can't live in prison. I can't. I won't.

Waylon slams a fist down on the machine. "How? It's a cat! You couldn't handle an intern, you couldn't handle a cat. Couldn't even—"

"Sorry: don't care to hear more. I'm out. Not going to stick around for the fun." Ivan says.

He's leaving. Is it fine that I'm leaving too, then? No. It's my fault. I should stay and face it, but I can't. She takes another step. I'm a coward. I'm worthless.

Their words start to fade from her ears. Waylon's tone backs off. "No, come on. Please. We can still do this before anyone gets here. Just go finish your pouring and—"

"No, not happening." It's silent for a few seconds, then Ivan sniffs: wet, gloop-filled. "Sorry, Sister." The speaker clicks and he's gone. Forever.

Thea's heart tremors. It echoes in her ears like a church's bell, each pang driving twisted nails into her chest. She clutches at her heart's and collapses to the side: into a dark, cramped pocket between a concrete wall and a water heater.

Another fist clangs against metal. "Damn it. Damn it." More silence, but it's cut short by a gasp. "Shit, no. No, no. Where is she? Where did she go?"

She lets herself fall down the wall; she squeezes her arms around her knees and tears gather like icicles at her jawline, threatening to fall. They do. One after the other onto the gathered fabric of her cassock's skirt. I should get up and help him. Stop hiding. Help him escape.

Rubber soles stamp against the ground. He shoots out of the door and runs right past the water heater. Past her cowering body nestled beside it. Words slip out under his breath. "No, no. Come on!".

Her heart won't stop; it just beats faster and faster, pounding against the cracks in its container. She lashes fingers around her calves. Help him. Stand up and help him.

Waylon skids to a stop at an intersection of hallways. Only one has the trail of salt leading back to the truck, but he hesitates. "Would she try to run by herself?" A moment of silence later, he shakes his head. "Us three can still make it out together; she knows the plan. We'll be okay." He runs off, following the salt trail.

Her head lolls the the side. It thunks against the concrete and pain sings inside her skull. "I-I... I deserve it." She whispers.

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