“No, that’s great information!”Blake insisted, scouring the pictures to see if he could pick up anything Marin had potentially missed.“See, since you remembered Pokémon, that gives us a really narrow window to figure out when you—” his eyes flicked up to Marin, who was staring at him with an eager expression.“Well, when you passed away.Pokémon came out in 1997, so we’re looking at a span of about seven years.”
“You’re right, thatdoesreally narrow it down,” Marin mused, bringing a finger to his chin.“Keeping that in mind, what should our next move be?Looking through obituaries?”
Blake was glad that Marin had been the one to make the macabre suggestion.“That’s what I was thinking.Unfortunately, we still don’t know about what kind of geographical area we’re looking at or the cause of death…”
Blake’s eyes settled on the small, hoary scar bisecting Marin’s eyebrow.“But based on that scar you have, head injuries might be a good place to start.”
Marin’s hand flew to his brow, expression pensive as he traced the scar.“You’re right… I never considered that this might be a death wound.”
“As for the area…” Blake sighed, propping his chin on his palm.“I think we may want to start our search in the area surrounding this Splashgrounds place and work our way out from there.”
“Makes sense to me,” Marin said, taking his hand from his forehead and reaching for his empty container.
“Thanks for doing all the reconnaissance—here, let me get that for you,” Blake said, stacking Marin’s trash on top of his own.
“Again, it wasn’t any trouble.”Marin waved away the notion with his hand as Blake stood from the table.
“Still, it’s appreciated.”Blake stepped out of the party room and turned the corner towards the trash can—only to startle when he saw Noel hovering in his way.
“Jesus!” Blake grasped at his chest.“How do you keep doing that?!”
“Sorry,” Noel uttered.He crossed one arm over his torso, rubbing at his elbow.Even through his mask, Blake could tell his expression was sheepish.“I’ve been told I’m pretty quiet.”
“Clearly.”
Marin popped his head over Blake’s shoulder, peering over at Noel.
“Hi there,” he greeted.“Is everything okay?I hope my art project wasn’t a problem?”
“N-no, you’re fine.”Noel shook his head.He turned to look across the hallway at the Walter standee, shifting his weight between his platform boots.
“Are… did you do a double today?”Blake asked, unsure of what Noel wanted from them.He’d been at Water Zone since before Blake had even clocked in, so his shift should have been long over.Blake raked his mind for any reason that Noel could want to talk to him other than the merman situation: at work, he tended to ignore Blake outside of asking to switch shifts for loss prevention.When they were out with their friend group, Noel usually treated Blake with an icy disdain, if only for the fact that he was one of the unfortunate bastards to bear the title of “ex-boyfriend” to Noel’s precious crush.
“I…” Noel tore his eyes away from Walter, looking to Marin, Blake, and back at the merman.“Maybe it would be easier to show you.”
“O…kay?”Blake said while Noel shuffled towards the break room, gesturing for him and Marin to follow.
Noel approached the poor excuse for a kitchenette set off to one side.It consisted of a dirty microwave, a sink that Blake wasn’t certain that he’d ever seen used, and a mini fridge that he knew contained nothing more than Alex’s forgotten lunch.
Stepping up to the counter, Noel grasped at the wrist of the long-sleeved tee that he wore religiously beneath his security uniform, regardless of the oppressive California heat.His fingertips trembled as he tossed a nervous glance over towards Blake and Marin.
“Sorry,” he uttered.Blake flinched as the pale expanse of Noel’s forearm was revealed—the skin gleamed with a lattice of silver lines.Before Blake could awkwardly avert his gaze, Noel stuck his arm beneath the faucet.Turning the handle, the ancient plumbing jolted with an awkwardthunk, hissing out air for a brief moment before spilling fresh water over Noel’s arm in stuttering starts.Blake stared at him, perplexed as to why Noel decided to make such a show of washing his hands.
“What di—?”the question was cut short when Noel extracted his arm from the flow of water.
Glimmering below the tiny beads of water lingering on the surface of his skin, Noel was freckled with a handful of small, iridescent pink scales.
“The truth is,” Noel reached up to remove his mask, revealing two rows of gleaming shark teeth.He glanced at Marin, appearing almost ashamed.“I’m like you.”
11
Blake had approximately a billion questions.
Noel used the side of his dry hand to squeegee off the water covering his forearm, concealing the scarred flesh beneath his long sleeve.
“So…” he said, concluding with an awkward shrug.
“You’re—?”Blake managed to force out, still reeling from Noel’s reveal.He looked beside him to where Marin stood, eyes wide and hopeful, hand clutched to his chest.
