Kaylee doesn't blink. Este stares at her, waiting for something to happen. Her heart is banging into her chest. She worries it will break her ribs. Kaylee isn't blinking and her outstretched hand is reaching for Este still and aloft in the air above her. Este thinks she might die. She might die all over again.

Her mouth tastes of metal, of copper. She'd rather it be blood, but it's dirt. The dirt she died buried inside. Este coughs once. Her hand reaches her mouth, digging her fingers into the flesh of her cheek, expecting to find a worm inside her too, or some other sign that she is dead and done. She sticks her hands so far back into her mouth that she gags.

Kaylee, perfectly blonde Kaylee whose lipstick is stained brown from the mud she puked and whose eyes used to be blue but are now black all the way through, begins to decompose.

Fallon is sobbing into the collar of Ambrose's jacket. She doesn't even like him all that much. He's kind of unsettling, but he's holding her up and her legs might give out. That woman, the one Este saw that night, is dead now too.

Dead in a way that Audrey can't even begin to explain.

"We need to get going," Audrey manages.

Este glares at her, burning with whatever burned Kaylee.

Ambrose doesn't watch her but instead watches the body. Kaylee's skin erupts in blisters that pop quickly. Her previously blemish-free skin, smooth and silky, becomes rough terrain. Already, she's starting to swell. Her cheeks and chest and wrists expand around her bones. Ambrose knows what it means to decay. The earth shouldn't be taking her this fast.

"Now!" Audrey raises their arms above their head.

The mud is sinking into their shoes. Audrey feels for the notebook in their pocket. They should write this down. They should bury the body they were going to bring here. Nothing is aligning in their mind. It's a dead body. It's more dead than Audrey, because it is. All reason suggests that Audrey isn't anymore. The body they dragged across town, that was Audrey. This life is not.

Este stands up and shoves Audrey. The woman goes spinning backwards, slamming into the ground unable to stop with a hand wrapped around the notebook. Audrey scurries on their hands away from Este, who towers above them burning and dying.

"You don't have to worry about whatever is coming for us," Este spits. "I'm coming for you first."

A proper woman doesn't get her hands dirt. She cleans. Este cleaned after her slob of a husband, she cleaned up his dirty dishes and his messy affairs and the tears on her face after he made her cry again and again. A proper woman takes care of herself. She never has a blemish on her skin, never wears an unironed shirt, and certainly never shows that she is angry. Este is not a proper woman. She's dead. And maybe now is the time to be angry.

"Don't be stupid," Audrey rolls their eyes.

Este shakes their head, "I'm being pragmatic. If there is a way to kill you again, I'm going to find it."

Then, Audrey's pale face seems to lose more colour. Like they are translucent. Like they have crossed the townline and are going to fade into nothing.

Fallon starts to cry harder. Ambrose scoops her in closer to his chest. He muffles his sobs, reaching over and taking Este's hand. She accepts it, and together, the three of them walk out of the forest.

~~~

Barry and Lydia stand in the bus, holding onto the same pole. There is enough room for them to sit down, even sit down on opposite ends of the bus. Lydia didn't fancy the idea of sitting. She was worried her legs might fall asleep, that they'd disappear beneath her if she wasn't making them move. Instead, they stand holding on to the same pole, bodies jolting and vibrating.

While Barry doesn't stop looking at her, Lydia stares outside of the bus. She never had to take the bus while she was alive. Her family had enough money for two cars. Lydia passes streets that she should know whose names slip her mind. She can't remember lyrics to her songs. Right now, she's struggling to remember her mother's face in motion. It's always static. Lydia can't remember how she stood, or how she walked, but Lydia knows she did it. All of that was ten years ago anyway, a lifetime passed.

Barry recognizes the look on her face, "you miss her don't you?"

"Who?" Lydia looks back at them.

"The girl I lost," Barry nods their head, leaning in closer to her. "The girl I want you to be, but you aren't."

Lydia looks at them, confused, "I'm still me."

Barry rolls their eyes. The bus jolts and they grab Lydia's waist as she wobbles. Barry doesn't look at her, doesn't even linger, slinking their hand off his waist.

"You never were you, Lydia Darcy," Barry swallows. "You were everyone that anyone wanted you to be. You were the most glorious opera singer, the perfect daughter, the mysterious woman I fell in love with. You weren't you then, and you certainly aren't you now."

Lydia lifts a hand off the pole to look at Barry's face. Their eyes soften. Barry has always had the look of adoration in their eyes. Lydia knows little whole and true things about her old life, but she knows that Barry loved her. Now, she knows that truly too. Barry used to love her.

She doesn't have the chance to decide if she wants to pull him in closer or to let go. Barry decides for the both of them, peeling her hand off their face. They still stand so close.

It's like they were buried beside one another. One foot apart. Different coffins.

~~~

The wind is so loud it only muffles Clare's screams, rather than carry them.

For the first second, Kaia doesn't know how to breathe. Clare lets go of her hand and drops to the ground, screeching. She writhes in pain, clawing at her stomach, tears sizzling and cracking as they run down her face. Her skin is pink, fresh, ripped.

Then, Kaia snaps into action. The wind whips her hair in her face as she pulls down over Clare, rolling on the ground and scratching at her skin. Kaia tries to grab Clare's hands, and she screams herself, ripping them away.

Her palms are bright red, burning too. The skin is tender. It is like Clare is a hot stovetop and not a young woman in the cold of October.

Kaia bends down over her again, pulling down the sleeves. Clare continues to claw at her own stomach. Kaia unzips the jacket, pulling herself in so close when Clare gets a scratch in at Kaia's face. She feels the blood drip down her temple, sees it drip onto Clare's jacket. She rips it off, and then pulls up Clare's shirt just a bit.

Clare's stomach is bright red, steaming in the cold winter air. Kaia pulls back, looking around. Clare is screaming even louder. It's not snowing, but there is some slush still by the side of the road, grey and black from all the muck that has caked in it. Kaia grabs Clare by her shoulders, avoiding the woman's hairs and drags her towards it. At least, that will be cool.

She only gets two feet before Clare's body goes limp.

Kaia drops her arms, shuffling around until she is over top of Clare and looking down. Her heart is racing. Clare lies there, eyes fluttering, mumbles out of her mouth. She's still crying, the tears still sizzling and her body steaming.

Kaia hurries over to the slush, grabs as much of it as she can in her fists and brings it over to Clare. She cries out in pain at the feeling of the cold on her own burnt hands. She forces it over to Clare, dropping it on her stomach. Then, she cradles her own hands, staring at the skin. Blisters are forming, the burns are deep.

Clare cries out in pain. She blinks once, twice, but can't see anything.

"Kaia," she mumbles out the word softly. While Clare grew up Catholic, she never was very firm in her beliefs. She should have been. She should be. Maybe she is, but she doesn't say God's name. She doesn't want a God who could let something so terrible happen. All she wants is Kaia. "Kaia."

Hearing her name, Kaia peers in closer. She collapses to her knees, staring at Clare. The young woman's hand reaches out, knowing Kaia is there but not exactly where. Kaia hovers a burnt hand, bright red, comparing the colour of her skin to Clare's. Clare is back again. Kaia grasps Clare's hand. It's too cold. Kaia uses her sleeved arm to wipe the snow off Clare's stomach. It is pink, certainly, but it doesn't crackle anymore.

"Don't go there," Clare whispers, grabbing Kaia's hand and pulling her in close. "Don't ever go there."

"I won't," Kaia answers, gripping onto Clare just as tight. Clare is here, not there, wherever there is. "I'm here."

"You're..." Clare winces in pain. She pulls Kaia once more, tighter, forcing her down next to her. "You don't deserve it. Don't go. Please, don't. Anyone else, but not you. I deserve it. Not you."

Kaia moves a hand to Clare's head, wiping away the sweaty hair that clings to her forehead. Clare starts to cry. She claws at Kaia, pulling herself up.

"I don't know where there is," Kaia manages to say. "I don't know where you went, Clare."

Clare swallows. She opens her eyes and sees Kaia. Beautiful Kaia, who is smiling even now. Who is always happy and energetic and who wants every woman who was ever killed in the prairies to have justice. Kaia, who likes horror movies and dancing under starlight and who is too good for this world let alone the next.

"Hell," Clare manages. "I was in Hell."

~~~

They don't know where to go. No one is in the park when Ajay, Leo, Eva, and Nico all arrive. Eva still carries a bag that jangles when she walks. Currently, she is on the swings, listening to the jewellery clink against itself. Nico hangs from the monkey bars upside down, their life feeling no more topsy turvey than usual. Leo sits on a bench while Ajay paces around it.

"So, we all screamed," Ajay decides. "Unless you think the pastor is lying?"

Leo shrugs. He doesn't know. Maybe he doesn't even care.

Ajay stares at him, blinking, "listen, Leo, I respect that things are not good, but if we shut down right now everyone is screwed."

"Everyone is screwed," Leo says, his face straight. "We've been screwed for a long time."

Ajay presses his fingers to his forehead. He cannot do this right now. So, he steps away and heads over to Nico. All the while, Eva watches. She was about to get out a cigarette, but instead, she pockets it, leaning in closer to watch the others.

The wind is strong now. Nico feels themselves pushed and pulled by the gusts of air while hanging upside down. They only right themselves when Ajay approaches.

"Any luck?" Nico asks.

Ajay shakes his head, closing his eyes for just a second, "it's like he's not even home."

"Well, he's not!" Eva shouts from just a bit away.

Ajay lowers his voice more, "I meant like he's not even in his body."

Eva scowls, she jumps off the swing, landing on the ground and stumbling as she hurries closer.

"Let me handle him," Nico whispers. "He's been through a lot, and we probably aren't helping. Why don't you or Eva go watch the church and make sure none of the others go back?"

Ajay nods. Orders make everything much easier to understand. They grabbed their shoes and coats, but the wind still rips through his clothes. He closes his eyes, for just a second, and imagines himself at his parents' home, in his bed, hearing his younger sister on the phone through the walls. In the army, Ajay allowed himself few luxuries. Only now does he let himself linger on this. When the wind changes directions, so does he.

As Eva approaches him, he signals for her to leave the park with him.

"Good," she decides. "We've got to get going to a pawn shop if we're not going back to the church."

Ajay grits his teeth, "is that what's in the bag? Something you stole that we're going to sell?"

"Something you're going to sell," she winks at him. "At least, unless Este is coming back."

Ajay blinks slowly, closing his eyes since they are watering from the harsh wind. Information about Este, though it didn't come from her. A piece of her she didn't give him herself. He could blackmail her, rope her into whatever mess Audrey has forced them all into together. He could ask her about where she got it and what she plans to do next.

Instead, he holds it tightly to his chest. He likes her too much to do anything like that.

While they walk away, Nico goes over to Leo on the bench. He's fuming, practically steaming. Nico sits upright next to him. They wish they could offer Nico a hand. There may not be bodies, it's undecided, but there is something so wonderful about being able to hold someone else. Then again, at this moment Nico doesn't long for Kye's body the way they should. It's there, of course. Maybe it will always be there. Nico could live and die and live again and they will always grieve what could have been. It's not fair to pull Leo into that mess.

"None of this is your fault, you know," Nico says. "I know you think you're scary, and maybe you think it's your job to bring the pastor to justice, but what happening to you, to us... well, it's not your fault. For what it's worth, I really like you, Leo Sang-Wook."

Leo feels himself shrinking in on himself. Few people are stupid enough to like Leo, and good things don't happen to those that do.

"I really like you too," Leo pats Nico's knee. "Unfortunately, I attract a lot of bad things."

Nico furrows their brow. They grab Leo's hand and squeeze it, tears in their eyes, "well, they do say that opposites attract."

~~~~~

So, was this a cliff-hanger? I think technically, but the cliff-hangers were not at the end so maybe it doesn't count. Now, I know we never have any idea what's going on. However, do people have characters they feel like they would react the most similarly to in this kind of situation? I kind of feel like I'm more of a Nico, sad at first but they one thing at a time. I'm always curious of your thoughts!