Running for Fire: Chapter 3

Currently, the four of us are camping in some woodland about five miles out of the little town, I‘m not entirely sure where we are in the country, none of us do, but we have all become quite fond of this little wood that we are huddling in. When we first begin the search for Metropolis, about a month ago, we stopped at a camping place and bought a four man tent, and camping stuff. We had escaped on two motor bikes, with camping stuff on our backs and about five thousand pounds between us.

Me and Mel are busy hiding the bike in the hedge, covering it well. Lately, everything is passing in some kind of dream, everything is so surreal. Just describing my life sounds bizarre to me, let alone to anyone else. Four 16 year olds, with supernatural powers, are on the run from the whole world’s most dangerous terrorist group, and we are camping. (hen again, that kind of sounds relatable to the last Harry Potter)

Then again very little of my life ever makes sense.

The world is so exciting to me, and I sometimes wonder if I am exciting to it. I know I’m not normal, I’m not that naïve, but I cannot cease to be amazed by beautiful the world is, how perfectly irregular it is. Surely, if trees that grow and birds that fly are accepted, we can be too?

We all have slightly different opinions about what was going on right now, Cas was with me, and was just gazing around with wonder at everything mundane or boring. It’s not like we haven’t been outside before, but never with so much freedom, never with so much responsibility. It makes it so much more beautiful, somehow.

Mel is trying to hold us all together. She is our root, our anchor, the one we all rely on with her endlessly calm demeanour and kindness. She is incredibly brave, and incredibly kind, and she sees the world differently to anyone I know.

Pete is a strategist. He has carefully planned out everything, and has a billion plans and theories about how we are going to survive, about where Metropolis is and what it is doing, because we all know that it isn’t gone. Metropolis has always seemed alive to all of us. That massive old house had its own spirit, and the people of Metropolis worked together in a perfect, seamless team.  Pete understood Metropolis more than any of the rest of us, and he was connected to it in a way none of the rest of us were.

“Have you got food?”

“Wow Cas. No ‘Oh my God I’m glad you’re okay Tallie.”

“You’re overreacting Tallie, as usual. You went shopping. Now shut up and give me the pot noodles.” Cas grin came out of trees, followed by the rest of him. Tall and tan, with floppy brown hair and a cheeky face, he could be a Hollister model.

“Fine, but you’re carrying the bags back up the hill you lazy oaf.”

“Deal” With a wink and a grin, he grabbed all the bags from Mel and me, and ran up the tree covered hill.

I turn to Mel, laughing slightly, Cas always managed to make me laugh, but stopped immediately when I saw her face. She was staring up after Cas, looking shocked and worried.

“Mel? Mel, what is it?”

She turns to me, closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before giving me a smile.

“Nothing, don’t worry, I- it’s nothing.”

I don’t worry about it. We don’t lie to each other, not ever, and especially not now. With a fleeting glance back to where both of our bikes are hidden, the two of us walk up the hill.

When we arrive at the clearing, Pete has built up the fire, and is warming his hands on it, whilst Cas is carefully splitting the boiled water between four Original Curry Pot Noodles.

Pete glances up at us as we walk over. The tent is set up a little way away, hidden in the trees.

“All good?” Pete’s dark skinned face, as similar to me as my own, has worry lines etched all over it- a side effect of losing your home and the only stable thing in your life. I’d like to say that the four of us were stable, but we are far from it. Our love for each other is, but us in ourselves are exploding and freezing and changing. All of us are still fighting with ourselves, knowing that we have to win, because if we don’t we have no power over our abilities. No power over ourselves. Pete’s smiling brown eyes are looking at Mel, knowing he was less likely to get a sarcastic answer. He was, as usual, correct.

“All good.” Mel confirms, knowing that those two words give him all the information he needs. It is one of the perks of growing up with the same 3 people, you learn to understand each other in a way that is possible only to twins otherwise. I can read every word and every motion to the point that I can almost see everything thing in everyone’s head.  But that’s Mels’ power, not mine.

Tell me what you think?

Omnia in finem ardebit x

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