Young Writers Society

~1266 words

The Council had been furious of course. “You can’t just disappear on us!” they’d ranted. “The progress of that ship is a vital concern to us. People died and you didn’t even tell us!”

Kerra had stopped trying to explain. Neither she nor Everen had been capable of even moving for a few days, and it was a few days after that before they’d returned to their usual duties. Everen hadn’t even been conscious when those other two people died. The Council had been unreasonable and explosively emotional. She had just let them yell until it was out of their systems, and then she’d delivered the rest of her message and left.

Now she was back at home, in her apartment that usually felt so secure and cozy. But ever since Shandi had died, the place felt almost creepy in its quiet emptiness. Or maybe that was Kerra’s heart. It was a sensation she took wherever she went now. For a few brief moments, she could distract herself and forget what had happened, but even then, something always felt off. It was like when she had lost a baby tooth: she could forget its absence for a while, but instinctively her tongue would go back to feeling the place where the tooth once was.

She tried turning on music, but it just echoed like her apartment was an empty skull. The words and melodies all felt fake and meaningless. So, she mostly sat around her apartment in silence, trying not to think of anything. At this point, it was only the knowledge that Everen and her entire ship still relied on her to receive and transmit messages that kept Kerra going. Everything else in her life felt meaningless.

About two weeks after Shandi’s death, Kerra was just sitting on her ugly green couch, staring at the wall. A knock came at her door. Although at first she didn’t quite register the sound, when the pounding came again, followed someone shouting her name, Kerra bolted out of her seat. It had to be Shandi! She was alive after all! Her heart pounded as she rushed to open the door.

It wasn’t Shandi. Instead, No Name and Numbers stood in the hall, looking like perfect ravens in their all-black clothes, dark skin, and dark expressions. Only Numbers’ iridescent tattoos on his uncovered hands broke the illusion. No Name was staring at the floor. Numbers looked like he was trying to make an effort to meet Kerra’s eyes, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Hi Kerra,” he said, his voice heavy. “I’m afraid we have bad news.”

“I know,” she said. “But come in anyway.” She led them to a sitting room. The boost of adrenaline that had come from her false hope that Shandi was at the door was gone, and now Kerra felt more tired than ever. She leaned against the wall by the window and looked out at the night-time lights of Abyssia. “I could feel… is she really…?” She didn’t know how to ask, so she turned back to face the two shadows that shifted on her couch uncomfortably.

Numbers cleared his throat. “Uh, yes. Shandi… didn’t make it. We had to abort our mission and come back. We thought it would only be right to tell you just in case you didn’t know. We weren’t sure, you know, about the whole, uh, connection thing.” He gestured at his head.

“Oh I knew. I knew immediately.” Kerra grimaced.

No Name looked up with piercing black eyes. “What did it feel like?”

“Hey now,” Numbers said sharply, giving No Name an elbow to their gut. “That’s not a very polite question.”

“I want to know,” No Name said, not breaking eye contact with Kerra.

The intensity of the gaze unsettled her, and Kerra said, “No, it’s okay. It felt like the worst thing I’ve ever felt. The pain in my heart and my head. I was unconscious for a day or two.”

“But not your side?” No Name looked slightly disappointed.

“No. Why?”

“She got attacked by one of those… beasts up there,” Numbers explained. “It got her in the side. She died pretty quickly after and the beast…”

“What?” Kerra prompted, after a moment of hesitation from Numbers.

“Let’s just say it probably had a better meal than it’d had in a long time,” he said grimly. “Because he was distracted, we were able to get away. We’d spent much longer than we’d expected, looking for the satellite colonies, but we hadn’t been able to find anything. All we’d found were awful monsters. We’d been pretty good about fighting them off, but, that last time… well, it doesn’t matter. But after that, we booked it back here as quick as we could.”

“Our mission failed,” No Name added bitterly. “It was all for nothing. We lost her for nothing.

The three of them sat in a silence rich with frustration, sorrow, disappointment, and unease. At last, Kerra said, “Thank you for coming to tell me. At least this confirms what I already knew. Now I won’t have to doubt my inner knowing trying to hold onto a shred of hope. Now I know there is no hope.” Her voice was dull, and she could feel the pressure of unshed tears building up behind her eyes.

“No hope,” No Name echoed quietly.

“You can contact us, if you want,” Numbers said, shifting awkwardly on the couch. “You’re still a part of us, Kerra.”

“And you can still come by my apartment whenever. It’s been too empty. It would be kind of you to drop by. But how will I contact you? Before I could just… yeah.”

No Name pulled out a dull, nubby pencil, and a piece of paper. Kerra smiled at the use of such simple, old-fashioned tools. No Name tore off a strip of paper, scratched something onto it and handed it to Kerra. “This is the best number to reach one of us by. It’s the Grin’s number, but he’s the most reliable to contact and coordinate things with.”

“Thank you.” Her hand shut tight over the scrap of paper, holding it like it might escape somehow. “I really appreciate… everything. Thank you,” she repeated.

“It’s no problem,” Numbers said. “Please let us know if you ever need anything. We misfits gotta stick together,” he said, with a ghost of a smile. He stood up from the couch, but it was No Name’s turn to elbow him.

“Don’t forget about the other thing,” they said.

“Oh, right,” Numbers said, sheepishly. “I don’t know if this is something that would appeal to you or your way of mourning, but tomorrow we’re going to have a bit of a party to celebrate Shandi’s life.” He held out a glossy black card that glimmered with iridescent ink. It was an invitation. Kerra wondered if he’d designed it himself, as it seemed to perfectly match his tattoos. “That should have all the information you need, if you want to go.”

Kerra considered the card in her hand. It was much newer technology than No Name’s paper and pencil. The flash of the glowing ink almost seemed to tell Kerra that there was hope. Some sort of light in this darkness. She smiled. A party would have been exactly what Shandi would have wanted. “I’ll be there,” she promised.

“I’m glad,” Numbers said warmly. “Alright. We’ll get out of your hair. We have a bit of a party to plan for tomorrow.”

With that, Numbers and No Name left, like two ravens flying from a tree, into the night.