Cascadia's Fault

Nightmares Are Dreams,Too

Johnny returned to the cabin seconds before bed count. He was soaked but it was worth it. CJ was on his bunk reading a comic. Tal was on the opposite end, opposite side on a lower bunk. It might have been nice if he'd been assigned to a different cabin, he thought.

Of course, Caz probably felt the same way about Noa, so Johnny figured he needed to not be a baby about it. It wasn't like Tal was pumping CJ for information about Caz or even doing anything other than being friendly to the whole group.

Maybe he was just a nice guy?

I had to quit with the conspiracy theories.

Oh. Wait. I AM a conspiracy theory.

He checked in with the cabin counselor so he could take a shower without being counted as absent and headed back with his towel and sweatpants. He let the hot water pour over him, rinsing of the salt water that fortunately no one had noticed when he'd come in.

His hair had been tucked up in his knit cap, so it wasn't a complete bird's nest – ha, ha – but, after a day spent shoved up there, getting soaked and dried, soaked and dried...

It was disgusting.

The comb snarled through the tangles. Johnny tried to have the patience to work them out, but the main lights were out and only some of the low sidelights were still on. CJ's was one of them, and he wasn't surprised. Johnny finished up and dumped his salty, wet clothes into his laundry bag.

"Where'd you go?"

Johnny heard the whispered question come from above. He debated the best way to answer. The truth was off the table, despite CJ growing up with a sister born with green hair. Johnny decided his background might be a little too far out there than even CJ was prepared to cope with.

"Went for a run. Needed to burn off the rest of the day after having my own minion kill me off with embarrassing efficiency in my first foray into the apocalypse."

He grinned at the pfft from the top bunk. It sounded just like his sister's. He thought CJ was done until he whispered, "What do you think of Tal?"

"What do you mean?"

More silence. Getting a feel for CJ's rhythm, he waited.

"I don't know. I don't feel good about him."

Johnny thought about it for a minute. CJ was young, and Caz didn't tend to like anyone according to what CJ had said. This made him wonder if this was a case of the little brother only knowing as much as the big sister wanted him to know, or if he was right to not feel good about it. Maybe he felt protective? Sticky ground. His own feelings – what was he saying about sticky ground? – aside, Johnny knew he needed to be careful about what he said.

"Okay, what doesn't feel good?" There. That was safe. Let CJ do the talking.

"Caz doesn't laugh. I don't know that I like that she was laughing with him. She doesn't hang the way other girls do. She doesn't worry about what boys think, or what girls think. That's not who she is. It just seems wrong." This was all said in a single, breathless whisper, one that even with his hearing, he almost strained to hear.

And didn't that confession give a great deal of insight into the girl who took up way too much of his own gray matter.

Johnny decided to pick his way through each concern one-by-one. He figured CJ would appreciate the logic and, ultimately, he didn't know Tal. He wished Tal would give them some distance, but he didn't have any good reasons. "Okay, all of us are out of our element, right? Maybe she's just trying to relax since she knows she won't have to see most of us again? And what where they laughing about?

Wasn't it something about the class they were in? You know, finding something funny just because it's funny could happen. Just because it doesn't happen at home, because that's where she has to see the same people every day – and none of us know what she has to cope with every day, right? – doesn't mean that maybe she wants to stretch herself here."

It sounded like bull even to his own ears, but he waited for CJ's reply. It was quiet for so long he began to think the younger boy had fallen asleep. It was only when he heard the book getting shoved under the pillow the way CJ had done last night that he was sure he was still awake.

"Maybe," CJ replied, "but I still don't like it. It just feels wrong."

"Then pay attention. If you see something off, tell her. Or, if you don't want to tell her, tell me or Jem. I'll pay attention, too, okay? I don't know your sister as well as you do, but I believe you when you say you feel something off. You should listen to that." Johnny wasn't sure if this was for CJ's sake, Caz's or his own, and that made him feel like a shmuck.

And now I'm a Jewish grandmother.

Oy.

He needed some sleep.

He stared at the bunk above him, listening to the breathing around the room, some snoring. It would keep him up for a while, he knew. The beds creaked, boys rustled in their blankets, some muttered incoherently.

Johnny didn't realize he'd sunk into sleep until he found himself in the dream. It was one he'd had several times over the past few months. The ground beneath him heaved, and there was a fire blazing on the sand, shooting sparks high into the starless sky. The scream reverberated through the air, piercing his sensitive ears, filling them the way feathers that weren't his filled his vision, holding his face still while a mouth crushed into mine. It wasn't so much a kiss as consumption.

He was being consumed.