Capsule

by Mel Torrefranca

  In an instant Jackie shot up, their foreheads slamming into each other.

  Jackie clutched her head with her left hand, eyes clamped shut, but Peter’s relief overwhelmed his pain. He scanned the cliff in the distance, where the silhouette of Kat he’d seen earlier had now disappeared. She must have gone searching for a path leading to the shore. As much as he didn’t want to think about the possibility of facing Kat again, he knew that right now, Jackie was more important.

  “I don’t get it.” Peter lowered his chin, gauging the dangerous distance of the fall before facing Jackie. “What the hell just happened?”

  “You didn’t see it?” Jackie tucked her fist into the pocket of her sweatpants and struggled to get back onto her feet. Peter stood to help her up, the sand sticking to his dripping clothes. By the time Jackie regained her balance, she’d removed the hand from her pocket, her fingers now relaxed at her side.

  Peter wrapped his arm around her shoulder and guided her toward the stony wall ahead of them. “See what?”

  Only one trail led to the main campground at Lothen Heights. It was steep, but definitely more manageable than climbing up the way Jackie had come.

  A salty gust of air passed as they approached the start of the trail, marked by a warning sign that read, Stones may slide. Take caution. Peter stopped to make sure Jackie could handle the climb. He was trembling from the cold, but Jackie—she was quivering out of control, her bottom lip shaking with every rapid breath. She leaned against the cliffside. “Just give me a moment.”

  Peter nodded. Whatever happened after she’d jumped wasn’t normal, and although he was pleased she’d survived a seemingly unsurvivable fall, he worried she might have long-lasting injuries. His eyes landed on the dripping gauze wrapped around her right hand.

  “Let me see that.” Peter reached for her arm, which she held toward him without so much as a wince. He unraveled the loose gauze to reveal the skin of her forearm, completely healed. “Must be the work of the game. I think you’ll be okay.” He tossed the wet strips onto the sand.

  “How much time do we have left?”

  “We’ll deal with that later.” Peter surveyed the distance to the top of the trail, ignoring the pit of guilt that burrowed itself into his stomach. “You think you can handle it?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Peter held his hand out, and Jackie looked away.

  “Really?” Peter shook his hand in front of him again, emphasizing the gesture. “Don’t make this weird. You know we can’t have the player dying right before the end of the game.”

  Jackie rolled her eyes and took his hand. “You’re stupid.”

  “And you’re stubborn.”

  Peter set his sandy sock on the first stone, wondering whether he would have been better off with his sneakers, which were still lying by the shore. At this point it didn’t matter. They didn’t have much time left anyway.

  As Peter and Jackie scaled the trail together, the fatigue finally caught up to him. Peter might have stopped to rest for the remainder of the night if it weren’t for Jackie’s panting behind him. The game had spared her, but that didn’t mean Capsule intended to show mercy. He needed to get her medical help.

  The trail grew less steep as they neared the sea of trees above them, but Jackie still continued to stumble, her slippery sneakers sliding with every step. She gripped Peter’s hand firmly to keep from tumbling down the rocky path they’d climbed.

  Peter couldn’t suppress one distinct question that whirled through his mind. Earlier today he and Kat had abandoned Jackie at the spring dance, and what felt like minutes ago—and probably was—he’d been screaming at Jackie as though the only reason she helped him was because she enjoyed playing the game.

  “Are you feeling okay?” Peter tightened his fingers around her hand as he felt the strength in her grip fading. “We’re almost there.”

  He looked over his shoulder at Jackie, recalling what he’d told her after receiving the Level Five memories. “That’s all you care about, isn’t it?” Peter blushed. “You’re just in this for the game.”

  Jackie’s damp hair fell over her shoulders, her eyes vacant as she grimaced in pain. After all he’d said, why would Jackie take such a stupid risk for him? Why would she jump for someone so rotten, someone who had never even thanked her once?

  By the time they’d reached the comforting grass and trees of the Lothen Heights Campground, Jackie had lost most of her energy. Her hand slipped from Peter’s grip as she leaned forward and dropped onto her knees. She pressed her palms into the grass, trying to force the strength back into her.

  Peter kneeled by her side. He wanted to say something encouraging, to tell her that everything would be okay, but that would be a lie. Where were they supposed to go? How would this game end? The countdown was ticking, and now Jackie was losing energy faster than Peter was supposedly dying.

  Kat emerged from the trees, arms swinging frantically by her sides as she ran, Jackie’s phone in her grip. When she noticed Peter and Jackie, she rushed forward and kneeled next to them.

  “After she jumped, Capsule had a new pop-up called warning. All it said was seek fire.” Kat pointed into the dark trees ahead of them—the same dark trees she’d come running from. “I saw a campfire on the way over here. I think it’s a sign.”

  Peter had hardly heard a word Kat had said. All he could think about was how similar she looked to Emmeline. She’d always tried to be more like her sister, but under the moonlight that night, she resembled Emmeline more than ever, and Peter couldn’t pinpoint why.

  Kat’s brows furrowed, breaking the image of Emmeline and shooting Peter back into action. Now wasn’t the time for distractions.

  Peter and Kat stood on opposite sides of Jackie and helped her back to her feet. Jackie was still awake, but her eyes were glazed over, and her thoughts wandered somewhere else. With their arms around Jackie, Peter and Kat dragged her stumbling body between the trees in silence, only occasionally glancing in each other’s directions.

  The campfire was only a few-minute walk into the forest, a flickering orange blur sitting next to an RV parked in the middle of the woods. By the time they neared closer, a figure sitting on a log in front of the fire stood and rushed toward them.

  The woman looked to be around her fifties. She had cheekbones sharper than kitchen blades and raven-black hair as thin as printer paper. Her wrinkles grew more defined as she caught sight of Jackie’s condition and came to a dead stop. At this point the girl was nothing more than a walking zombie.

  “My goodness, what happened to you three? Lothen isn’t the place you visit for a midnight swim.” The woman headed toward her fire faster than she’d arrived from it, motioning for them to follow. “Please, you three warm up. It’s mighty cold out tonight.”

  The woman stepped into her RV to grab a spare blanket while Peter and Kat placed Jackie against one of the logs facing the campfire. In only an instant the color returned to Jackie’s cheeks. As she blinked more frequently, Peter took a few backward steps into the shadows of the trees and sighed with relief.

  “Well,” Peter said as Kat joined him by his side. “That was something.”

  She shook her head. “No kidding.”

  Peter and Kat stood next to each other by the trees. Not close, but not I-hate-you far. They watched the flickering fire from a distance as the woman returned from her RV with a quilt. She wrapped the warm fabric around Jackie’s damp clothes, encasing her in a red-and-white striped cocoon. After sitting on the dirt next to Jackie, the woman’s mouth moved, but her voice was inaudible from so far away.

  Jackie had jumped to save them. She’d fought for Peter’s and Kat’s lives more than they’d ever fought for themselves, and Peter admired that about her. He’d been wrong. Jackie really did care after all.

  As Peter’s and Kat’s minds wandered in different directions, Peter re
alized that nothing had changed. They were still the nephew of the criminal and the sister of the victim, but they were also Jackie’s friends. Subjects in the game. Students misunderstood by their peers, struggling to move on from their shattered pasts.

  What parts would they allow to define them?

  The goosebumps disappeared from Peter’s arms. What he felt that night—the strange relief that came with giving up—it warmed him. He welcomed the satisfaction that came with accepting that he could never win the war he was fighting, and neither could Kat. If Nicholas had called the police, Emmeline could still be alive today. If Emmeline hadn’t swerved into the other lane, Nicholas could still be alive today. There were no winners. And as hard as he’d tried to convince Kat that Emmeline’s death was her fault and her fault alone, it wasn’t that simple. Perhaps he’d been fighting someone on the same side all along.

  Peter finally worked up the courage to face her. Kat’s hair had fallen over her shoulders, frizzy from the chaos of the day, and the cat eyeliner she’d worn earlier was now smeared. Kathabelle Pike. A girl dealing with the truth behind her sister’s death. Dealing with the pain of answers. Peter had insisted that Nicholas was innocent, but that wasn’t what Kat needed to hear. What she needed was a real friend.

  “I understand if you hate me,” Peter said, and when Kat faced him, he directed his focus to the flames. “I was being—”

  Kat leaned over and wrapped her arms around him. “Are you kidding me?” She buried her face into his chest, her voice muffled by his shirt. “People have hated you enough.”

  Peter froze, too stunned to hug her back. By the time Kat stepped away and dropped her arms, there were tears in her eyes.

  She didn’t wipe them away.

  “I thought I needed answers to feel again.” Kat smiled at Jackie. “But I was wrong.”

  Jackie chatted with the woman from the RV in front of the campfire. With a light smile spreading across Jackie’s face, she came to life again. Jackie had never deserved any of this. She had never deserved the game. But as recklessly selfish as it was, Peter was glad Jackie had been the one chosen as the player.

  “It feels weird to say this.” Peter grinned. “But congrats on crying?”

  Kat threw her back against the tree behind her. “Oh shut up, Peter.” She wiped her tears with the crinkly sleeve of her windbreaker.

  “Really though.” Peter leaned against the tree standing next to hers. “I’m happy for you.” He looked down at his socks, which were now covered in sand, dirt, and a new collection of evergreen needles. Normally that would’ve annoyed him to death, but he smiled at its stupidity.

  “Of course you are.” Kat sniffled. “Nice socks, by the way.”

  “Thanks. It’s a new trend. I call it natural soles.”

  Kat chuckled, but the humor wasn’t really there. “And I—well—you know—”

  “Careful.” Peter crossed his arms with a grin. “You’re starting to sound like me.”

  Kat crossed her arms too. “I just hope you know that your uncle’s past doesn’t define you.”

  The smile tumbled off Peter’s face. That line—he’d been dying to hear it for the past two years. They were the words he’d been craving without even knowing it.

  “I know.” The words were a mere croak from his mouth as he rested his head against the prickly tree bark and shut his eyes. “And about what happened earlier. The—you know—”

  “Kiss?” A heavy breath left her lips, cloaking the humor in her voice. “Yeah, about that. I think we were both a little caught in the moment.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “What?”

  Peter burst into laughter. “Joke.” He opened his eyes to the tree branches above him, their silhouettes erasing clumps of stars in strips. “That was a joke. We’re probably better off as friends. Especially now, you know?”

  The unlock click of a phone. “Maybe if we didn’t have answers, things would be different.”

  Peter stepped away from the tree and caught a glimpse of Jackie’s phone in Kat’s hand.

  00 HOURS : 29 MINUTES : 44 SECONDS

  Time trickled between their fingertips, and although Peter would rather pretend the countdown wasn’t there, they’d have to face fate eventually. He watched Jackie smile and chat with the woman by the fire. She’d sacrificed so much for them, but Peter and Kat would have to make a choice.

  Jackie raised her chin, meeting eyes with Peter before he could avoid her gaze. “Weird how that works, isn’t it?” His breath stopped as he brought a hand up in a stiff wave. “After the memory at Sunshine nothing really changed, but it feels like everything has.”

  “It’s like the game was designed to turn us against each other.” Kat’s voice grew raspy as she tucked the phone into her pocket and forced a smile in Jackie’s direction. “First you against me, and now Jackie against us.”

  Peter’s hands rolled into fists at his sides. He faced Kat, his face burning as he blurted the idea he’d been dreading to share. “But the game doesn’t have to win.”

  Kat grinned weakly at the dirt. Peter had broken a barrier they’d been mutually afraid of crossing. “I’m guessing that means we’re on the same page?”

  “Definitely.” Peter nodded, and his clenched hands unraveled. “But how do we tell her?”

  00:27:16

  IT WAS NICE to see Peter and Kat standing next to each other peacefully. When Jackie had first woken up in the main parking lot by the Lothen Heights Campground sign, she’d thought her only option was to finish the game alone—that Peter and Kat’s anger would keep them from cooperating—but she’d thought wrong.

  Jackie adjusted the quilt over her shoulders while the woman next to her shared the story of her failed business. The stranger had spent seven years pouring every dime into creating a new social media networking site that ultimately flopped. With no resources left, she thought her only option was to work a job she hated, but instead she made the insolent decision to travel the country in her RV.

  Losing everything had given her the opportunity to live a lifestyle that brought her joy.

  “I guess I realized that the past has power over us, but it doesn’t change who we are,” the woman said. “Only we can do that.”

  Jackie had been fully invested in the woman’s story, smiling along with the beauty of her words as the fire warmed them, but then she remembered the reward capsule. Her hand—concealed under the quilt—reached inside the pocket of her sweatpants, ensuring the capsule hadn’t fallen out on the way up from the shore. A breath slipped between her lips as her fingers fondled the game’s reward. She lost herself in the flames, sweat accumulating on her forehead despite the cold air.

  The woman stopped mid-sentence. “What’s with the grim face?”

  Jackie burrowed the capsule deeper into her pocket and rolled the quilt into a ball on her lap. “It’s nothing.”

  “Surely there’s something on your mind if you decided to go swimming at one of the most dangerous California beaches.” The woman held a sharpness inside her gaze. Kind, yet calculating, and Jackie knew she couldn’t get away with lying to her.

  “I’m not even sure where to begin,” Jackie said.

  Before the woman could respond, Peter and Kat appeared across the other side of the fire. They sat next to each other on a log, and the dazzling sparks rising from the campfire formed a wall that separated them from Jackie. Their smiles wrenched a blade right through the last of her enthusiasm. She’d have to tell them the truth.

  “Thanks for the help,” Kat said to the woman.

  “Not a problem. Sometimes we go to the most beautiful places when our minds take us to the ugliest. I think it’s safe to say you three haven’t had an easy time lately.” The woman stood and dusted the dirt from her jeans. “But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that some parts of our past are better off forgotten.�
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  The flames crackled, consuming the wood that fueled it.

  “Can we stay here for a bit?” Peter asked.

  “I’m heading off to bed, but you kids take your time. And feel free to help yourself to the snacks in that bag there. I’ve had far too many s’mores of my own.” She pointed to a paper bag leaned against the log Peter and Kat were sitting on. Before Jackie could mutter thank you, the woman had already disappeared into her RV, leaving the trio alone around the fire.

  “Well,” Kat said, “she’s nice.”

  “Yeah.” Peter’s eyes narrowed on the flames. “And she’s right.”

  Peter and Kat didn’t look at each other, and it was starting to make Jackie uncomfortable. At Sunshine Auto, Capsule had exposed a dangerous truth—knowledge they might’ve been better off not knowing in the first place—but it no longer dragged them down, and although it brought Jackie relief, she also knew their resolution was temporary.

  “Anyways.” Kat stood from the log, breaking the tension. Her eyes wandered to the paper bag sitting on the ground by her sneakers. “You guys hungry?”

  As Kat removed the marshmallows and graham crackers and arranged them onto the log neatly as though it were a kitchen counter, Jackie stared at the fire, pondering how to break the news. The timing didn’t feel right, but would it ever? If they wanted to win the game, either Peter or Kat had to take the capsule—and soon. Yet despite this urgency, Jackie couldn’t gather the strength to ask Kat for her phone back.

  Peter held a twig out toward Jackie, a marshmallow pierced into the end of it. Jackie raised a palm and leaned back, refusing his offer and avoiding eye contact. She pressed her back against the log, the fire burning her face as Peter and Kat’s gentle chattering filled the night air, but she didn’t scoot away. She embraced the heat. The subtle pain distracted her from the capsule resting in her pocket.

  “I haven’t had s’mores in forever,” Peter said.

  By the time Jackie returned to her senses, Peter had a s’more in his hand, the ingredients in a jagged alignment, the marshmallow more brown in some parts than others.