D A M O N
On the edge of Bradleyston, Eden
━━━━
THE SECOND the fleet of TimePods and Crates hit the concrete, helpers and Emergency Services surged forward just like Beaky would for a biscuit—"Vicious overfed rat," he could imagine Laila saying skeptically, 'cause she'd never liked the friendly Chirostenotes—and surrounded the glistening orbs.
Damon blinked back the dryness of his eyes, caused by him not doing so in an effort to spot the transition of empty to collected matter, and turned to Laila to speculate on what their buddy would be like, pausing for a second before a sputter escaped from his stomach.
"Laila, your hair," he couldn't hold back his sniggers. Her dark hair that was frizzy enough in normal circumstances was standing on end, like she'd just touched one of the Van de Graaff Generators that they watched on their PortScreens for science. His nervous hiccups sobered up with the glare that Laila shot him (Okay, not that funny) before she raised her eyebrows.
"You should see yourself, Dumbo," Laila shot back, and he could image her lips twisting in that familiar one-sided smile under her mask.
Damon held back his groan and ran a hand through his own hair, feeling as dumb as Laila's nickname for him suggested he was. Rule number one about insults, Damon felt his neck flush as he looked back to the TimePods, make sure you can't be insulted yourself.
While his classmates murmured and ruffled up their hair even more, Damon's attention was locked on the Emergency Services workers with their unmistakable khaki body suits, crossed with haphazard lines that represented the First Aid 'X'. With practiced motions they swung open the upper shells of the TimePods, like cutting through a boiled egg and removing the top of it.
One by one the TimePods were opened, and the last one of the at least twenty-string fleet elicited a cheer from their class. Even Juliette's eyes were crinkled up in a rare grin underneath her mask.
Laila caught hold of his forearm and pulled him towards her, the movement so jarring he nearly lost his balance and fell, his heart banging from her touch and the fear of slipping on the gravelly earth. Tendrils of her dark hair tickled him in his face, smelling like coconut shampoo, before he bent to hear her muffled whisper in his ear.
"Think we could sneak away for a closer look?"
Damon blinked, feeling his mind churn with useless observations. Laila's wearing her earrings today. She has to be careful, else Beaky's gonna get hold of them like he got hold of her nose ring (a horrible memory for both he and Laila; she'd never worn a nose ring since). Geez, gotta remember to appreciate a Laila with straight hair more (in the humidity, it never lasted). A very intelligent, "What?" escaped him instead.
Damon untangled himself from her grip as quickly as possible before he did something he regretted, like twirl her hair around his finger or kiss her, and shook his head quickly like he'd known all along what she was asking.
"We can't."
Laila's brows furrowed, but her eyes didn't flash with a Death Ray, so that meant she was okay with his answer. Thank goodness, otherwise he'd have to wrestle her out of making a bad decision that would end up with her dying because of exposure to Old World air, and that wouldn't have been fun at all. Before he could feel relieved, though, there was a commotion beyond the plastic barrier.
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THE EPOCH CHRONICLES | ✔
Science Fiction THE WORLD IS DYING. Global warming, lack of resources, and the collapse of authority across all seven continents has caused worldwide strife. People are willing to do anything to survive. The solution? Project ERAA, humanity's last effort to...
