The Rise [1]

Eighteen ✓

("OVER.")

Blinking fast, Amber remains blinded by the light for a moment. The sun casts warmth on her skin, as though it wants to heal her from the inside. Slowly, her vision grows more acute, but her eyes hurt as she narrows them at the landscape that extends in front of her ― hills behind hills, an endless route of desert behind the huge parking lot of the Twister.

Dawn has broken over Mexico and the darkness has oozed out of the morning, driven away by the beginning of a new day.

Amber doesn't move. The scenery in front of her is too peaceful. Only her tired gaze roams around aimlessly, too overwhelmed to find a point to focus on.

She's made it. She's actually made it. But what now?

Her legs are set in motion before she can even register, taking slow, unsteady steps towards the R.V. that stands at the same spot as before; the only familiarity in this mess of strangeness.

Shuffling through the dust, Amber blinks drearily, her mind dazed and wandering in a sad mist of memories.

Slowly, she stops in her steps, unable to resist the urge to look skywards, eyeing the pale blue sky. Amber has never fully believed in the existence of a God, not after all the things that happened to her family years ago, not even when her mother urged her to. Now she finds herself reconsidering her conviction, even if the divine ways seem cruel, especially tonight. There has been no reason for an innocent family to die under such merciless circumstances as the Fullers did and for the monsters of the night to live on merrily. Where was the justice in that?

She can't piece together a rational explanation for any of this, most importantly for why she was spared. Survivor's guilt is already implanted deep in her gut as Amber inhales deeply, still staring up to the sky, trying not to let her knees give in again.

Somewhere there, she thinks inconsolably, somewhere there must be Jacob. Perhaps Kate and Scott. And their mother. Together, as a family.

Somewhere there is Jed.

Her eyes hush away from the sky as the sound of steps draws Amber's attention. She turns her head immediately, panic lashing out inside of her like a reflex ― but what she see makes her heartbeat stop momentarily.

Who she sees.

Seth comes to a halt at the stairs of the Twister bar, staring just like she had, ahead into the sunrise as though the soft colors are the only beautiful thing there is left in this world. There must be something beautiful left, right? It can't be all the gore and blood, all loss and trauma.

He tugs at his shirt. Its white is soiled with reminders of the inevitable past ― blood and dirt, no mercy. Defeat glazes his glance as he starts walking again, in big steps, making his way to a car, oblivious to her.

Instinctively, Amber's gaze darts back to the entrance of the bar, waiting to spot Richie get out of there any moment, to follow his brother. Seth's made it, so he must have made it, too. The Geckos don't ride alone.

But no one comes.

Seth reaches a black corvette, throwing his dark suit on the seats. Fear of being abandoned increases Amber's pace as she hurries up to him, blood pounding in her ears.

Suddenly, the man lifts his head, looks up for his eyes to meet hers ― and every bit of strain that was present in his expression vanishes.

Amber watches his lips slightly part at her sight ― incapable of speech, for what seems like at least a minute. Of course, he hadn't expected her to be alive ― not to speak of ever seeing her again.

"Amber," he finally breathes.

Both continue to stand in silence, staring at each other as though there was not enough time to process the sight. Amber can't bring out a single sound as she continues to look into his eyes, golden in the arising sunlight, almost beatific in a way. And she begins to understand that, truly, there aren't a lot of beautiful things left on this world. No, there truly aren't. At least not here. Not for her. Not for them.

"Need some company?"

The question drops softly from her lips as she searches for his gaze after he briefly breaks eye contact.

Get away from here. As fast as possible. Leave everything that has scarred them for life behind.

Time passes, and Seth says nothing, just continues to stare into her eyes.

Slowly, but finally, he parts his lips, his voice leaving his dry throat in a hoarse whisper. "Yeah."

The light smile that blows across his lips warmed up Amber's entire body. And even though she's full of speechless sorrow that pulls her down like a burden, she meets his smile with one of her own.

He points with his head to the corvette and takes the driver's seat, while Amber quickly opens the passenger door. Get the hell away from here. Seth starts the engine the same moment she slams the door shut. The warm wind of the morning blow her dark hair back as she stares ahead into the sunrise.

And she has never felt so intensely about anything before.

Perhaps, this isn't the end.

Perhaps, this is the beginning.