Arsonist's Lullaby (mxm)

XXIII: This changes everything

《 ASPEN GRISWOLD 》

We never made it to Asheboro, but we found a clubhouse by the outskirts of Uwharrie. Had we not been so worn after the endless hours on our feet, we would have just walked past it. After all, it was the kind of place where people would start looking for food.

Everyone else must have thought the same, as the lock on the door remained intact and there was no sign of breaking in. We got in by mashing one of the square window panels in said door, and I expected it would set off an alarm, but it didn't. 

Unlike in most of the buildings, the clubhouse didn't have stagnant air. There was dust on the round tables and at the backs of the chairs, but otherwise the space held an eerie sense of time standing still.

“Look.” Rain breathed, staring at something with wide, wondering eyes. My gaze swept around the room in fear of finding something dangerous from its corners. “It's snowing.”

Indeed, as I lifted my gaze to the windows, big ones that covered most of the front wall, the sky was dusted with snowflakes. Not those heavy ones that floated to the ground with an ease, but the kind that swirled in every other direction. That, plus the impressive lake view we hadn't seen from the other side of the building, made me forget about the inconvenience the snow would be.

That same childlike joy was mirrored in Rain's face, and he gave himself a moment before clearing his throat and clasping his hands together. “Well.. I guess we should get to work.”

There was an industrial kitchen, which we scoured together. We found bread, quite a lot of it, but it was all molded. The industrial sack of rice, three jars of jam, trail mixes and an impressive collection of spices, on the other hand, were more than salvageable. We also found more bottled water than we could carry and Heineken in glass bottles.

We weren't as lucky with winter clothes, as the club was for golfing and had little use off the season. But we collected all the blankets and long sleeved polo shirts we could find.

Our backpacks and tote backs were stuffed to the brim, and I wasn't looking forward to the trek back carrying all of that. There was one thing I was the happiest to have found, but I had to tie the pair of boots to the handle of my backpack, because I couldn't fit them in.

“We’re staying for the night?” I asked Rain, while he rummaged through the food supplies with nuts in them. 

He had separated those from the ones we could bring back to the cottage. I was about eighty percent sure I had cured Rio's allergy, but we weren't taking any risks. On a brighter note, eating all the products that contained nuts during our trip meant we didn't have to walk with an empty stomach.

“It's getting dark, so..” Rain finished his sentence with a shrug that translated as: what else can we do? He handed me one of the beers with a lifted brow, and I accepted the bottle.

Even though we had had our near-death experience together and we had called each other friends, we didn't have much to talk about. For the most part, we just walked or sat in an amiable silence. If I asked something, Rain answered, and vice versa, but that was about it. It was fine by me.

Scooping Nutella straight from the jar, snacking on trail mixes and washing it all down with beer was more than fine as well. Soon after the meal Rain dozed off, his neck twisted against the wall in a way that was far from comfortable. I covered my mouth as I yawned so hard my eyes watered, and my eyes fell shut against my notice.

"Aspen."

My eyes flew open. It was dark in the room, so I had slept away for a few hours. It didn't quite sound like Phoenix, as it was so ragged with anguish, but it was him. My heart did a backflip, and I jolted to sit up with my palms pressed over my chest.