HEARING DAMAGE
TEEN NOLA - CHAPTER FORTY-NINE !

AFTER CHECKING UP ON the search for Mari and finding out that the girl was still missing, Nola made her way back to camp, exhaustion pressing heavy on her shoulders. She felt the weight of the night's events settling deep in her bones—Travis's breakdown, Lottie's unsettling persistence, the endless strain of simply surviving out here.

            Before heading to her own hut, she checked back in on Travis, her sharp eyes scanning his slumped figure in the dim light. He was still seated in the plane seat, his posture slightly less tense than before and a duck, that Akilah had Christened Mortimer, clutched in his arms. Akilah was nearby, watching over him just as she had promised. Satisfied that he was okay for now, Nola slipped away to her own space.

           The second she lay down, her head pressing into her makeshift pillow, the tension in her body began to unravel. The quiet hum of the camp was a strange comfort—the crackling of the fire, the occasional murmur of voices, the distant rustling of the trees. It had been barely ten minutes before the familiar sound of footsteps reached her ears.

           At first, she had ignored them. The camp was still bustling, after all, even with some of them out searching for Mari. But there was something distinct about these steps—the odd pacing, the hesitation in each movement, the way they slowed and then started up again.

            Through the corner of her eye, the Rilke girl was able to see a flash of blonde hair through the small holes that made up her hut. Nola waited, expecting the other girl to approach and speak to her, but silence stretched on. Instead, Nola could hear the faint muttering under Melissa's breath, the restless shifting of her weight, the quiet thud of her forehead pressing against a tree trunk—then lifting, then pressing again.

            Five minutes passed. Melissa still hadn't spoken.

            Finally, Nola sighed and took pity on her. "Melissa." She called out, her tone casual, not at all annoyed. She smirked to herself when she heard the sharp gasp that left Melissa's lips, amused at having startled her. "I heard you walking my way like five minutes ago. Why are you lurking behind that tree?"

            The footsteps started again, slow and hesitant. A few seconds later, Melissa ducked through the entrance of Nola's hut, her movements awkward, as if she wasn't sure she was actually welcome. Her expression was sheepish, but she plastered on a nervous smile, trying—and failing—to act casual.

            "Hey." The blonde greeted, her voice light, though a little too forced. She lingered just inside the entrance for a moment before stepping in further. "I just wanted to see how things were—with you, obviously. I just noticed you and I don't really talk much."

            Nola lifted herself up onto her elbows before sitting fully upright, crossing her legs beneath her. She studied the blonde with mild curiosity. It was true—they didn't talk much beyond the usual camp chatter. She tilted her head slightly, considering her.

            "Yeah, I guess you're right. We don't. So what's up?"

            Melissa hesitated. There was a flicker of indecision in her eyes, as if she were debating whether or not to say what was really on her mind. Her fingers twitched against the frayed edges of her shorts. Finally, she let out a small sigh, as though resigning herself to whatever internal battle she'd been fighting.

            "I heard you earlier." She admitted, her voice careful but earnest. "With Taissa and Van. How you thought you should have been leader."

            Nola didn't react, at least not outwardly. She had figured that conversation had gone unheard, but she wasn't embarrassed about being caught. If Melissa was expecting her to deny it, she'd be waiting a while.

            But then Melissa smiled—a big, toothy grin that caught Nola off guard. "I wanted to let you know that I agree." Melissa confessed, her voice brimming with certainty. "It was so obvious that it should have been you. Not Nat."

            Nola's brows lifted slightly, surprised not just by Melissa's words but by how confidently she said them. The girl wasn't just agreeing—she was stating it like it was fact. Like it was something everyone should already know.

            When she noticed that Nola wasn't getting pissed off at being caught boasting about her leadership abilities, Melissa pressed on, her excitement bubbling over.

            "You've been so vital to our survival out here." She continued, her eyes not glinting with something akin to wonderment. "You've always been like a second leader after Lottie, and then when she got the shit beaten out of her, you took charge."

            Melissa then paused, fidgeting with the fabric of her shorts again, pulling at a loose thread. Then, quieter, she added, "I think that's so cool of you."

            The way she said it, with so much awe, made it sound like she was talking to someone she idolized. Nola felt warmth creep up her neck. She wasn't often caught off guard, but hearing someone say it outright—say it with admiration—made her chest tighten in a way she wasn't used to.

            Of course this wasn't the first time it had happened. Stevie had made it clear that she believed Nola should have been leader, many, many times. But hearing someone else that wasn't herself, Stevie or even Shauna saying it just helped cement to the brunette that she wasn't alone in her thoughts.

            "Thanks." She uttered after a beat, a small, genuine smile tugging at her lips. "I appreciate that."

            She exhaled a short laugh, shaking her head slightly. "I don't like saying it 'cause it makes me seem like a bitch, especially towards Nat, but I can't lie—it's nice to hear someone agree with me. And actually say it out loud."

            Melissa beamed at her, clearly pleased.

          A sudden commotion erupted outside, yanking Nola and Melissa's attention away from their conversation. Their heads snapped toward the entrance of the hut as the distant noise escalated—shuffling footsteps, urgent voices, bodies rushing toward the center of camp.

Then, a cry of shock rang out, sharp and incredulous. "Oh my gosh, Mar!" Someone gasped, their voice cracking with disbelief before surging into excitement. They bellowed across camp, "It's Mari!"

A collective murmur of astonishment rippled through the survivors as they hurried to gather.

"Thank God you're okay!" Misty's high-pitched voice carried over the crowd, frantic and relieved all at once. She crouched in front of the disheveled girl, eyes wide behind her thick glasses. Then, as if catching herself, she stammered, "Or, I mean, uh—thank the-the dirt or whatever."

Despite the exhaustion evident on her face, despite the dried blood and grime streaking her skin, Mari actually chuckled. Misty pressed on, her relief palpable. "I'm so glad that you're not dead."

The camp buzzed with movement, bodies jostling to get a better look at Mari. Some looked on with pure shock, others with cautious relief. Through the shifting crowd, Shauna suddenly emerged like a bull charging through the herd, her expression tight with suspicion. She wasted no time.

"Where were you?" She demanded, her voice taut with tension.

Mari hesitated, her dry lips parting as if searching for the right words. Her throat ached, raw and parched, but even that didn't stop her from smirking. Her gaze flickered toward Shauna, and with a familiar bite of sarcasm, she quipped, "I walked back to civilization so I could fuck your dad."

A few snorts of amusement escaped the crowd, but Shauna remained unfazed, her jaw tightening. Before the conversation could spiral, Taissa quickly stepped in with the real answer.

"She fell in a hole and fucked up her knee." She explained plainly.

Mari nodded, exhaling a tired breath. "I—I dislocated it. Like that girl we played from Manasquan last year." She winced as she slowly raised her injured knee, peeling back the torn fabric of her pants to reveal the damage beneath.

The gasps were instant. The bruising was deep, an angry purple hue spreading across the swollen skin. Her kneecap, though now back in place, bore evidence of the trauma. The others grimaced in sympathy as Mari gestured toward it, her voice hoarse.

"The kneecap was all the way over here," She pointed, cringing at the memory. "And I had to push it back in. It fucking killed."

Her eyes misted slightly—not from pain, but from the sheer weight of what she had been through. Her voice dipped lower, more fragile than before. "And the hole was, like, twenty feet deep. I thought I was gonna die in there. Like Baby Jessica."

A few girls frowned in confusion at the reference to the infamous toddler who had fallen into a well. One they were sure hadn't actually died.

Taissa, ever pragmatic, quickly corrected her. "Baby Jessica didn't die."

Melissa, standing just beside Nola, nodded in agreement. "And that was a well." She pointed out, her tone matter-of-fact. She remembered that case like the back of her hand. It had been all over the news.

Mari blinked, momentarily thrown. "A well's a hole." She mumbled defensively, avoiding their eyes.

But Shauna wasn't distracted by Mari's attempt at humor. Her suspicion remained razor-sharp. Her gaze narrowed. "If your knee's so fucked, how'd you get out?" She inquired, voice laced with accusation.

A tense silence followed.

The Ibarra girl's posture stiffened, her eyes flickering erratically as if searching for an answer—some excuse, some cover story that wouldn't crumble under scrutiny. But nothing came.

"Mari." Nola said, her tone firm but measured. She wasn't as confrontational as Shauna, but she wasn't going to let Mari dodge the question either. They all knew she was hiding something.

Mari's lips parted slightly, her breath shallow. There was no way out of this. No plausible lie that wouldn't unravel under Shauna's scrutiny or Nola's sharp gaze. Finally, she exhaled, her shoulders sagging in reluctant defeat. "Coach Scott found me." She admitted, voice small.

A wave of shock rippled through the group.

A chorus of "What?" rang out, overlapping in disbelief. Some of the girls looked stunned, others skeptical. Nola scoffed in disbelief. There it was—the confirmation she had both been waiting for. She had been right.

"He's alive?" Misty gasped, her breath catching in her throat.

"Fuck." Natalie muttered under her breath. A flicker of something—fear?—flashed in her eyes, but she schooled her expression before anyone could notice.

Taissa's brows furrowed in intrigue. "What happened then?"

Mari's response came in a stammer. "U-um... after he helped me out of the hole, he tied me up a-and took me to this cave he's been living in."

"Cave?" Van echoed, incredulous.

Akilah's mouth fell open. "He took you prisoner?"

Gen's head shook in horror, her voice hushed. "That's so scary."

Mari hesitated. She didn't look particularly scared—at least, not in the way they were assuming. "I mean, yeah, kinda. But—"

Van cut her off, her voice rising with alarm. "Holy shit! I knew it. I fucking knew it. He has totally lost it." She was almost histrionic with her exclamations.

Misty, ever the voice of reason when it came to Coach Scott, immediately shook her head. Adjusting her glasses, she refuted, "We don't know that."

Van gawked at her, utterly floored. "Dude, he tied her up and took her to his lair!"

Shauna, meanwhile, wasn't interested in debating Coach Scott's mental state. She turned back to Mari, her expression dark with purpose. "Do you know how to find your way back?"

Taissa scoffed. Her upper lip curled slightly as she quipped, "Okay, Wyatt Earp, what do you wanna do, go capture him?"

Shauna didn't waver. If anything, Taissa's sarcasm only strengthened her resolve. "Yeah." She replied with conviction. "That's exactly what I want to do."

She turned to the others, her gaze sweeping over the group. "You guys, he tried to burn us alive. You really want to just leave him out there?"

Natalie tensed. The fear returned to her eyes, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. "Come on, this is crazy."

"Is it, Nat?" Nola turned on her, her stare unwavering. There was no mockery in her voice, no gloating—just cold, undeniable logic.

"He tried to kill us." She continued, her voice steady, her words deliberate. "Now we know for sure that he's actually out there, so I say we go and get the fucker before he gets the drop on us."

She wanted to call Natalie out—wanted to remind everyone that she had been the one to stop them from searching for him, that she had insisted he was already dead. But Nola held her tongue. That wouldn't get them anywhere.

Shauna nodded in agreement, sharing a look with Nola. Then, her focus snapped back to Mari, her patience wearing thin. "Can you find your way back or not?"

Mari swallowed, her lips pressing together. Then, weakly, she nodded. "I think so."

That was good enough for Shauna. Her decision was already made. She turned back to the rest of the group, her voice unwavering. "Then we're gonna look for him before he finds a new place to hide." She announced with a stern frown. "Anyone that wants to come with—great."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

            THE PATH AHEAD WAS now swallowed in darkness, the dense canopy above devouring any hint of moonlight. Only the flickering glow of their torches cut through the black, their flames licking and swaying with each breath of wind that snaked through the trees. The air was colder than it had been earlier, and the uneven ground beneath their feet felt treacherous, roots and loose stones threatening to twist an ankle or trip a careless step.

           Mari hobbled at the front of the group, her injured knee stiff and burdensome as she led the way. Every few minutes, she would stop abruptly, turning her head to scan the trees with narrowed eyes, her brow furrowed deeply. Each time she paused, the group behind her groaned quietly, their frustration mounting.

           Taissa's patience, however, finally snapped.

           "For fuck's sake, really?" Taissa groaned from the middle of the line, her sharp voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. She stared harshly toward Mari, her frustration evident in her narrowed eyes and clenched fists.

           Mari's frown deepened. "I'm not lost, okay?" She snapped back, voice sharp with irritation. Her fingers tightened around her torch. "I'm just... remembering." Her words were defensive, but she was trying her best. Navigating a dark forest based on hazy recollections from earlier that day wasn't exactly simple.

           Sensing Mari's frustration—and the rising tension within the group—Shauna stepped out of line, her shoes crunching softly against the dirt as she moved to Mari's side. Her voice was low and steady when she spoke.

          "Hey." She said gently. "It's fine. Take your time. You got this."

           Shauna's unexpected kindness managed to surprise them all. It was very unexpected of the Shipman girl who just that morning had declared she wouldn't even search for the girl. Mari gave a small, almost grateful nod before turning back to continue on.

           The group trudged on, weaving through gnarled branches and uneven ground. The forest seemed to grow denser with each step, the trees pressing in like silent sentinels. The air felt heavier here—thick with damp earth and the faint scent of rotting leaves.

          Then, up ahead, Mari stopped once more—but this time, her breath hitched audibly. She turned back to face the group, her face breaking into a smile that seemed out of place in the oppressive dark.

           "That's it." The Ibarra girl breathed, pointing over her shoulder. "Over here."

           The group pressed forward, stepping through the brush until they came upon the mouth of the cave. The entrance yawned open before them—a jagged, black void that seemed to swallow the torchlight before it could even reach inside. Cold air drifted out from within, damp and stale.

          Nola stared at the gaping darkness. This was it. No turning back now.

          Just as Shauna took a step toward the entrance, Misty's shrill voice rang out from the back. "Guys, wait!"

           The group stilled as Misty stumbled forward, nearly tripping over her own feet in her rush to get to the front. She turned to face them, her expression unusually serious, her wide eyes glinting anxiously behind her glasses.

            "Are we really just... gonna go in?" She asked, her voice trembling slightly.

            No one responded immediately. The tension in the air was suffocating.

            Natalie was the first to step forward, her face hardening. She stood beside Shauna and Mari, her expression stony. "What did you think we were gonna do?" She asked flatly, her voice carrying an edge of exhaustion.

           Because Natalie was right. They all knew why they were here. They hadn't hiked through the woods just to stare at the cave entrance and turn back. They were here to finish this—to find Coach Scott and make him pay for what he'd done.

           For burning down the cabin, their only shelter and the place they had begun to consider home.

            For nearly killing them all.

            Their leader's gaze shifted, sweeping across the group, searching for a flicker of uncertainty—one last chance to stop this. "What do you think happens when we go inside?" Natalie inquired quietly. She wasn't asking out of defiance anymore—she was scared. "You guys... we don't have to do this."

           "Yes," Akilah's voice came from the back. "We do."

            The finality in her words seemed to settle things. No one spoke after that. Natalie swallowed hard, pressing her lips together in a grim line. She sniffed back whatever emotions threatened to surface, masking her uncertainty with resolve.

            "Fine." She uttered stiffly. "I'm going first."

            She turned and pointed to Stevie, Robin and Britt, the three girls who had lingered at the back of the line. "You three, stand guard. If you see anything—just scream your asses off, okay?"

            With that, they stepped inside. The air in the cave was cold, clinging to their skin and seeping into their bones. It was a stark contrast to the warmth of the spring air just beyond the cave's exit. The walls narrowed quickly, forcing them to walk in a single file. Shadows danced wildly along the jagged stone as their torchlight flickered against the damp surfaces. The air smelled sharp—like wet rock and stale earth. Their footsteps echoed in the tight space, every shift of their shoes sounding unnervingly loud.

            Their breath came out in thin clouds that drifted upward before dissolving into the dark. They moved cautiously, twisting and turning to avoid scraping against the walls. The uneven ground kept them stumbling over loose stones and shallow dips in the earth.

            Then they reached the wall of rocks. A jagged barricade—stones stacked tightly.

            "I don't remember those." Mari exclaimed, her voice strained as she stumbled forward to inspect the wall. She stared at it in disbelief.

            Shauna's expression darkened as she immediately assumed the worst of Coach Scott. "He must've done it on purpose to block us out." She muttered bitterly.

            "Maybe it just collapsed." Natalie suggested weakly, though her own words didn't sound convincing.

            Nola scoffed. "That's pretty good timing on Coach's part, wouldn't you say?" She uttered, stepping closer. Her gaze fixed on Natalie as she pointed at the wall of stones. "This part of the cave just happens to collapse right after Mari escapes?"

            Akilah shook her head in agreement. "Yeah, I don't think so."

            "Why?" Taissa asked, her voice cutting through the murmurs.

            Akilah shrugged helplessly. "I don't know... I just don't." There was an unease in her voice—one she couldn't explain.

            Misty's voice suddenly piped up, her face brightening like she'd solved a puzzle. "It's a double bluff! Like that scene in that movie with the two guys."

            Melissa, somehow following her logic, understood her vague reference immediately. "What? You mean The Princess Bride?"

            "Yeah."

            Gen shot Melissa a look of disbelief. "How the fuck did you know that?"

            Despite the brief moment of absurdity, tension still weighed heavily in the air.

           "I say we try both." Natalie declared firmly, her leadership instinct kicking in. She turned to Nola, pointing at her as she spoke. "Nola, you, Shauna, Van, Akilah—you take the open path. The rest of us will clear what we can here and climb over the rest. Take two lanterns. We'll keep the other three."

            She continued with firm instructions. "If you run into trouble—just get loud. We'll come find you. Same goes for us."

            As Nola's group moved to press forward, Natalie spoke quietly to Shauna as she passed. "Be safe." She muttered, her voice softer now. "We'll see you soon."

            Shauna hesitated briefly, uncertainty flickering behind her eyes. Still, she gave a slight nod. "You too." The Shipman girl replied quietly, before moving to join the others in the dark.

            The four girls hurried down the open path, their footsteps crunching against the damp stone floor. The air clung to their skin like a second layer, thick with moisture and the sour tang of mildew. Each breath felt heavier than the last, as though the very air they inhaled resisted their lungs. Water had begun to drip down from their ceiling, dampening their clothes and sliding down their exposed skin.

            The narrow tunnel pressed closer as they ventured deeper, the jagged rock walls closing in on either side. They soon reached a fork in the cave — two dark paths diverging in front of them. Neither looked more inviting than the other. The flickering light barely penetrated the oppressive blackness, leaving the tunnels as gaping voids. The stale air seemed to hum with a low, vibrating tension.

            After a brief pause, Shauna made the call. "Let's go." Her voice was tight, as though she was forcing herself to sound certain.

            In single file, they moved forward again. Shauna took the lead, her torch held high. Nola and Akilah followed closely behind, and Van brought up the rear, gripping her own lantern tightly in both hands.

            The tunnel walls squeezed in tighter the further they went, forcing them to crouch at first, then to crawl. The cold stone beneath their hands and knees was rough and jagged, scraping their palms and biting into their skin through their thin clothes. Sharp edges dug into their kneecaps, forcing them to shift awkwardly with every movement to avoid the worst of it.

            Their breaths came fast and shallow, echoing unnervingly off the stone.

            "Shit." Van gasped suddenly, her voice sharp with frustration. She paused in place as she yelled up ahead. "Okay, this is clearly not the way."

            Shauna shook her head, her face shadowed and slick with sweat. "We just have to keep going, okay?" Her voice cracked slightly, her tone shifting oscillating from stubborn to desperate.

            Her fingers clenched around her torch like it was the only thing tethering her to control. This had to be the way. It needed to be. They had to find Coach Scott — they had to make him pay.

            Nola swallowed hard, her breath still unsteady. "We're gonna be fine." she reassured between breaths, her voice softer now. "Just keep your breathing slow and steady." Her fingers curled into fists as she forced herself to sound calm. "We don't need any of us panicking."

            "Fuck, no wait." Shauna suddenly cried out from up ahead, her voice jagged with alarm.

            "What?" Van demanded from behind.

            "Oh, shit." Shauna's voice shook as her breathing quickened. "My light is out. My light is out. I can't see!"

            The flame from her torch had sputtered into nothing, drowned by the relentless drip of water from the ceiling. Darkness swallowed her whole.

            "Shit." Akilah hissed as her own light sputtered and died a second later. The blackness seemed to press down on them from every side, thick and suffocating.

            "I can't see either." Nola whispered, her voice thin with fear. The air felt colder now — colder than it should have. Her skin prickled, and the dampness clung heavier than before.

            "Mine's okay!" Van called out, her voice rising with relief. The flame in her lantern flickered weakly, barely a whisper of light, but it was still there. She cupped her free hand around the flame, shielding it from the threatening droplets above. "Mine's okay."

            "Hurry." Akilah urged, her voice tightening with panic.

            They crawled faster, moving blindly through the tunnel, their bodies scraping against the cold rock. Their lungs burned, each breath sharp and shallow as they strained to keep up with Shauna's hurried pace.

            Finally — after what felt like hours — they stumbled into a larger opening. Van's light cast a weak glow that struggled to pierce the heavy blackness. The air felt heavier here, like it clung to their skin in thick layers.

           "Oh, Jesus." The Palmer girl breathed. Her voice trembled. "Stay close."

            They huddled together, practically shoulder to shoulder. Their footsteps were hesitant, barely more than shuffles, and their gazes darted wildly around the space — squinting for movement, for anything beyond the shivering glow of Van's flickering flame.

            Then the flame twisted violently.

            The flickering light shot upward in a sudden burst, licking the air with wild, uncontrolled energy. The glow stretched unnaturally high, casting strange shadows that seemed to lunge and twist. Sparks shot upward, licking dangerously close to their faces.

            Then it happened against, the flames dancing in the air as if it had been stoked.

            "Are you guys seeing this?" Van's voice shook with uncertainty, like she was afraid she was imagining it.

            "Yeah." Akilah confirmed, her voice breathless. "Maybe we should go back."

            "Yeah." Van agreed without hesitation. "Shauna, we should—"

            Before she could finish, Nola felt the world yank away from her. The cave was gone — the cold air, the flickering light — all of it vanished.

            She was back in the camp.

            The sunlight streamed down through the trees, casting warm rays across the familiar clearing of their camp. The air smelled fresh — pine, dirt, and the faintest hint of smoke. The woods swayed gently in the breeze. Birds called out from the canopy, their trilling voices somehow too bright, too cheerful.

            The camp was empty. Not a single soul in sight.

            "Shauna?" She called, her voice uncertain. She took a tentative step forward. "Guys?"

            Her voice carried throughout the camp, weaving in and around the huts and coming straight back to her with no sign of a reply. She didn't find herself feeling scared, just confused. She knew they were fine. They had to be.

            She ventured leisurely through the camp, gazing curiously at her surroundings. A sight made her stop in place, her feet coming to a halt. Sat before her, just beyond the entrance to Natalie's hut was the Antler Crown. The very thing amongst the group that had come to symbolise one's leadership. It appeared to have been haphazardly thrown to the ground, discarded.

            The sight of it made Nola's blood simmer.

            "She doesn't even handle it with care." The brunette muttered darkly, her lip curling. "What the fuck is her problem?"

            What if someone saw her? What if she was seen? Finally, after weighting the pros and cons, pros being that she would finally know what it felt like upon her head and cons being that someone would know how much she desperately wanted it, Nola decided she just didn't give a fuck.

            What would they do? Kill her? They needed her. The Wilderness needed her and it simply wouldn't allow her perish before it was done with her.

            Finally with a growing smile, she stepped forward, ducking inside of Natalie's hut, swiftly grabbing hold of the crown and taking it back outside. "Stupid Lottie. As if the Wilderness wanted Natalie to lead us. She couldn't even lead herself out of a wet paper bag." She complained as she spun the crown in her hands, checking for marks of mistreatment.

            Her heart raced once it was clear the crown was free of any marks. This was it. Slowly and with breathtaking anticipation, she lifted up the crown and gently set it atop her head.

            It felt right. Like it was meant to be there. Like she was supposed to wear this crown and lead the group.

            Out of nowhere, the antlers moved, twisting and writhing as if alive. They drove themselves into her scalp, piercing her flesh and burrowing deep. Curling like roots through her skin. Agony tore through her skull, white-hot and unbearable. She screamed — a raw, desperate sound that echoed through the empty camp. She collapsed to her knees as her fingers clawed at the crown, trying in vain to pull it free, but it only tightened its grip, driving deeper and deeper—

            And then...

            Nola blinked, disoriented. She was no longer in the camp. She was sitting at a desk inside a dingy looking classroom, clad in her soccer uniform, something she hadn't even looked at since they crashed all those months ago and which had lay thrown into the clothes corner of her hut.

            She stared ahead blankly, her face emotionless as though her mind had drifted far from the present. It wasn't until someone beside her spoke — a soft, tentative voice — that her awareness finally shifted. "Are you in my dream?"

            Her head turned sluggishly, like her neck had forgotten how to move. Shauna, Van, and Akilah were seated beside her, all of them also dressed in their uniforms. Nola blinked at the sight of them — familiar faces in an unfamiliar place. Akilah, still confused, added, "Or am I in one of yours?"

            Before any of them could answer, the woman standing at the chalkboard spun around. It was Lottie — or at least some unsettling, teacher-like version of her. Her hair was sleek, pulled back neatly, and she wore an expression of calm detachment that somehow felt more unnerving than rage or panic.

            "There is only one dream." She claimed in a tone that was distant yet certain, her voice low and hollow like an echo.

            Behind her, scrawled out was the words, 'Of all the ways to lose a person, death is the kindest.'

            Nola's gaze lingered on the words. They cut through her like a dull blade, striking something raw and vulnerable inside her chest. Jackie... Javi... Laura Lee... The names flickered in her mind, one after another. They had lost so many — each one gone before things spiraled even darker. Perhaps that was mercy. Perhaps leaving this world before it twisted you into something unrecognizable was the kindest fate of all.

            A sudden squeak echoed from the hallway. The sharp, metallic screech of wheels rolling over linoleum. All of their heads turned at once, drawn to the sound like moths to flame.

            In the open doorway, a man in a black suit slowly wheeled an airline service trolley down the corridor. The cart rattled softly with every jolt of its wheels. The man's face was gaunt and pale, and when his head turned to look at them, Nola's stomach lurched.

            His eyes were gone — replaced by two gaping black voids, as if the very sockets had been hollowed out. Empty and endless.

            Snap.

            The sharp sound cracked through the air like a gunshot.

            Snap.

            Snap.

           The girls whipped their heads toward the noise. Jackie Taylor sat in the front row, alive and well — smiling smugly as if she hadn't died and been consumed by the group at their most ravenous point. She wore her uniform too, her blonde hair sleek and smooth.

            In her hand, she held a slap bracelet, snapping it sharply against her wrist. The coil slapped tight against her skin, only for her to peel it away and do it again. The rhythmic sound seemed to thrum against their nerves, each snap grinding deeper.

           As if sensing their gaze, Jackie turned, flashing Van a sickly sweet smile. She extended the bracelet with a tilt of her head.

           "You wanna try?" She inquired, her voice sugar-coated but laced with something darker.

            Van froze, her eyes flicking from Jackie's outstretched hand to her face. She made no move to accept.

            Instead, Akilah reached out. Her fingers hesitated only a second before she took the bracelet, smiling faintly as she snapped it against her own wrist. The band coiled snugly — harmless.

            "Let me try." The redhead said suddenly, her voice tight with suspicion.

            Akilah slid the bracelet from her wrist and handed it to Van, who glanced toward the front of the room — at Lottie's still, watchful presence — then back to Jackie, who was smirking wider now. Finally, she snapped the band onto her wrist.

           The moment it coiled, it constricted violently. Van gasped in pain, clutching her wrist as the bracelet tightened like a steel trap.

            Jackie's smile widened. "That happens sometimes." She replied nonchalantly, her tone so casual.

            "You shouldn't play with dangerous things." Lottie added flatly from the front of the room. Her voice was monotone, her face still devoid of emotion.

            Van's fingers trembled as she uncoiled the band from her limb, revealing a deep slice along the back of her wrist — a long gash. With a low growl of frustration, she gripped the bracelet tightly and hurled it across the room. It landed with a dull thud near the door.

            In an instant, Jackie was there — impossibly fast, as if she had teleported from her seat to the door in the blink of an eye. She snatched up the bracelet, clutching it like something precious.

            "It's just a cut." The blonde snapped, voice sharp with irritation. "You don't have to be such a baby."

            Van was now at the back of the room, her face twisted into a snarl. She gripped at her injured wrist.

            Jackie stepped forward, her movements fluid yet unsettling. Without warning, she lashed out and snapped the bracelet around Shauna's neck.

            The band whipped tight in an instant, coiling deep into her flesh like barbed wire. Shauna's eyes bulged as she clawed frantically at her throat. Blood seeped from beneath the twisted bracelet, flowing down her skin like a waterfall. Her gasps turned to choking gurgles.

            "Akilah, help her." Lottie's voice cut through the chaos.

            Akilah's hands shook as she scrambled forward, fingers fumbling desperately to uncoil the band. Shauna thrashed beneath her touch, her face purpling as her nails scraped helplessly at her own throat.

            "I can't!" Akilah cried, panic rising to a shriek.

            "You have to," Lottie's voice hardened, her eyes locked on the scene. "Or she'll die. We'll all die."

            Nola tried to move — tried to stand — but her body refused. Her limbs felt heavy, pinned as if some invisible force held her still. She couldn't help. She couldn't nothing but watch on in panic and listen to the amused chuckles from Jackie.

            Then —

            They were back in the cave.

            The cold hit Nola like a slap to the face. She gasped sharply, her lungs stinging as she choked down stale, icy air. Shauna lay beside her, coughing violently as she clawed at her throat. Her skin was pale, her breath shallow.

            "Where's Van?" Shauna rasped between coughs, her voice hoarse.

            Before anyone could answer, the very person who they had breached the cave for, emerged from a nearby tunnel — Coach Scott, dragging an unconscious Van behind him.

            "Help! You guys, please. Help!" His voice broke on the words, hoarse and desperate.

            The three girls all stared at Coach Scott in confusion, their minds still foggy from what they had just experienced. Van's body twitched weakly in his grasp, her face pale and sweat-soaked. Coach Scott crawled forward, chest heaving as he dumped Van by their feet before falling to his back.

            "It's poison." He gasped, his voice ragged. He tore the fabric from around his face, sucking in the clean air as if he'd been suffocating for hours. "And there's some kind of...there some kind of gas."

            From behind him, the rest of the group, who had finally managed to climb over the wall of rocks, arrived just in time. They all hovered over the man, staring down at him. Coach stared back like a deer trapped in headlights.

            Natalie cocked the gun and pointed it down at the terrified man. "Don't move." She warned him.

            "Sorry, Coach. You're coming with us."

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author's thoughts.
chapter forty nine, not proofread
This was the most annoying chapter to write. This app was determined to piss me off but I finally got it done. So yeah, Nola had a hallucination as well. Do we think it will stop her from trying to becoming leader? Be honest lol Anyway I hope you enjoyed :)