Oh…he’s angry…
22
R
Levigaspedbackintohis body with a fork in his hand, halfway to his mouth with a piece of something dark on the tines — meat, over-sauced, just regular banquet food that had been sitting under a heat lamp too long. He set it down.
The lighting in the room was different, the bulbs filament-style and too dim, landing amber on every surface. The watercolor on the wall behind Jasper’s shoulder was crooked. The bar in the corner was smaller, the bottles rearranged. The wood paneling was darker, more rustic.
The scenario reset completely. Why?
The sounds were already in his ears. The respirator. The heart monitor. He could hear Ethan’s voice, far away, saying his name —Levi— the way it used to come from down a hallway, two syllables,the second one falling and drawn out.
Asher sat across the table, both hands flat on the linen, palms down, fingers splayed. There was an untouched wine glassbeside his plate, and his face still wore the last expression Levi had seen on it: anger.
“Hi,” Asher said, almost gently.
“Hi,” Levi said.
The lounge was around them. Jasper at the bar. Maddie pouring wine. Owen in an armchair near the fire with a book open on his knee, already talking. Tyler at a window with his back to the room. Zoe and Elliot stood by the fire. None of them looked at the table.
I need to check for the open windows, then find the tape. We’ll start with the open windows…Levi started to stand.
“Don’t,” Asher snapped, keeping his voice low.
Levi’s hands were on the edge of the table, his weight shifting forward, and the word stopped him mid-motion. “The fog —”
“Sit down, Levi.”
He sat.
Asher watched him sit and waited until Levi’s weight was fully in the chair. “You’re already doing it.”
“Doing what?”
“The thing you do. You came thirty seconds ago and you’re already planning. The tape. The windows. Who goes where. I can see it on your face.” Asher’s hands curled into fists on the tablecloth.
“We know what happens if we don’t —”
“We know what happens if we do,” Asher hissed. “Every single god damn time Levi, you go to try and fix something and we die. I watch you die.”
“So we don’t go to the cellar this time. We seal the building and we keep everyone talking and we —”
“And Owen picks up a rifle and kills everyone.” Behind Asher’s shoulder, Owen was showing Jasper something in his book, his hands animated. “That’s what happened the time before. Owen picked up a rifle and shot me in the fucking head.”
Levi didn’t say anything. The fireplace was still going strong, now with wood instead of gas and glass, and the rifle still sat above the mantle. Maddie laughed at something across the room, the sound landing wrong against the conversation at the table.
“You keep treating this like a game, Levi,” Asher said, shaking his head. “You keep treatinguslike a game. That’s not right.”
“We are trapped in a fucking video game, Asher,” Levi snapped, his voice just a hair too loud, but he didn’t care. He was tired of this argument. He was tired of dying. He wanted to get out, and he wanted Asher. “We have to treat it like a game.”
“These are our lives.” Asher shook his head harder. “Mine and yours. We do everything together, but then you start treating it like a game and I keep having to watch you die…it’s not fun anymore. I don’t like it when other things kill you.”
“I’m trying to get us out —”
“There is no out!” Asher growled, banging his fist on the table. “There’s just this. Just us. Why can’t you be happy with just us?!”
“Because I know I can figure this out if you stop getting in my way!” Levi shot back. “I know this scenario. I know it, Asher. Ethan played a game like this —”
