Operation Sal | Sally Face x Travis Phelps

30

April 6th, 11:32 p.m

Sal: hey, u make it home alright? :)

Sal: larry says happy birthday btw

April 7th, 12:15 a.m

Sal: is everything ok? u never called

April 7th, 12:22 a.m

Sal: trav??

Sal: call me in the morning, okay?

Sal: if u can <3

   Travis's heart gives a welcomed flutter upon seeing the stupid, little heart emoticon in his message and clenches with distress all the same as he comes to the realization that he'd worried Sal, that he'd likely have to continue worrying Sal.

He strains his good eye, trying to discern the texts, squinting and coming to terms with just how useless his injured one had — unfortunately —became.

There'd be little Travis could do to stop Sal from marching in here and foolishly giving Kenneth a piece of his beautiful mind, if he found out.

   A sickeningly distorted image of those bones piled up in the ministry basement flashes before his eyes, and feeling quite nauseous, Travis leaps up to his feet like a feral cat and races down the hall, to the bathroom, to throw up.

Those bones, if he wasn't careful, could be him, or worse, they could be Sal.

Travis stares, for a moment more, at their shared messages, messages that mean more to him than he could ever explain, before deleting all of them and flipping his phone closed.

   Sal wanted him to call, if he could, but he can't call.

Sally Face is no fool, and it's Travis's understanding that the blue-haired boy probably knows something's up already. If not now, then he'll know soon.

There's not much Travis can do. Not this time, not outside of doing all he can to protect himself and Sal. He's trapped, being observed like a reptile in a terrarium. His every move was made under watchful eyes, not only those of his father, but of the other "members" too, the "council" or whatever Kenneth had said.

He considers, who knew how much interaction with Sal over the cellphone it would take to be noticed by Kenneth, or the others, or whatever divine higher power they were so devoutly resigned to?

   He can't pretend that he understands, because he doesn't. All that's clear to him is that the wisest thing to do is to obey his father, for now. Travis is without any other choice.

   Travis shuts off his phone and stows it away atop his closet shelf with care, right beside his journal and beloved stuffed bear. There was a time for all of those things, but it wasn't now, not with Kenneth so hot on his tail and roping him into something much bigger than the two of them — bigger than all of Nockfell, it seemed.

  Only a few hours into the day, his father suddenly beckons him back into the car, back to the godless ministry. Travis doesn't fight it, too scared to even think of resisting.

He visibly trembles for the entirety of the short drive, his now pale hands balled into fists atop his knees. He blames his tremors on the cold even though he's well aware that Kenneth is more than capable of seeing through his lies, through his fear.