Starfall

Chapter 20 - Ben

Carrying a dead person is no easy feat. Carrying a dead friend, no less, is even harder.

His breath doesn't come. His voice doesn't meet the air any longer. His arms sway back and forth, hitting my back occasionally as I run down the streets of Parlem City.

His weight is unbearable. All his relaxed muscles; all his organs, all his blood, all his unspoken thoughts weighing onto my shoulder. This would be a lot easier if I were beefy, or if I had superhuman strength. But I'm not. I'm just a guy with a motive strong enough to carry my deceased friend.

Because I'm not doing it for me. I'm doing it for her. For Elyse.

Peter was the fourth person I've ever taken from this world. And even though every person that came before him was another crack in my chasm, this time was different. Because I wasn't doing it for someone I despise. I did it for someone I care about. Someone I think I've come to love.

It's hard to keep up with Leola's frenzied pace. But I do find myself entirely surprised when she keeps looking back at me, checking to make sure I'm still with them. It's probably only because I have Kamal.

The number of appalled looks I get isn't what I expect. In fact, barely anyone acknowledges the fact that I'm carrying someone who is very clearly dead, because his blood is smeared over my hands and on my entire right side.

By the time the hangar comes into view, my shoulder is burning with strain. I try not to think too much about how I'll get him up the ladder to the Atlas.

Elyse has quieted for the most part. Her steps are still uneven, and although I can't see her face at the moment, I can tell that she's struggling to stay awake. She was tied up upside down for a bit too long, and I can't imagine it felt good.

Finally the Atlas's purple shine emerges from the long, unending hangar. The black sails are just how we left them, which means it'll take a good amount of prep to get the ship ready.

I'm still a good distance back, so I only make it to the ladder by the time Leola has helped Elyse into the ship.

I don't know if I have the strength to get Kamal up to the dock, but I have to try. I pull up, rung by rung, feeling the cold on my cut cheeks and the agonizing burn in my back. I'm halfway up when Leola peers over the edge at me.

I don't know what I expect her to do, but it's not for her to encourage me.

"Come on," she urges when she sees the wince stretched through my expression. "You're stronger than this."

Somehow, her very specific form of encouragement actually helps. I keep pushing. My arms shake with every movement, my shoulders threatening to give out.

"Come on!"

I'm almost there. I lift. Pull. Hoist myself up. My hand reaches the last rung, but my arm is too exhausted, and it gives out.

Beneath Kamal, my weight is about to drop the rest of the way when Leola's hands catch my forearm.

She pulls hard, her face going red with strain as I manage to get myself the rest of the way up. Once I'm far enough, I set Kamal down on the platform, and Leola helps yank me up until I've collapsed next to her.

For a moment that doesn't seem to last long enough, we lie there, staring up at the hole in the hangar at the yellowed sky. I can't seem to drink in enough air. My arms and back burn with the intense heat of exhaustion.

When I finally find the motivation to sit up, Leola pulls me up to my feet.

But before she lets go of me, she pulls me in, and she says, "I can't pilot this ship by myself, and Elyse is in no condition. So . . ." She eyes me, but the fire in her gaze has been doused into something weaker. "I'm counting on you."