In front of her Sailor Nova -- blue maryjanes held in two delicately flexed fingers -- stood heeldeep in the waves. And then something got her and her ribcage fell off the pedestal of her hips. Her legs were held stiff and still as blood dripped down them.
*
The sea glittered like a movie sea. The smell of salt and Nova's blood filled her mouth and nose as she looked out over the ocean again, hands flexing sluggishly like they were too lazy to respond to her brain's urgent Facebook requests. Nerissa's flipflops came off as she ate up the distance with walking, crunching over the sand to Nova and pulling her down to crouch in the waves like they were hiding from something.
This close up the water had a thousand sea lice in it, their bodies clear little balls of bones as they drifted in the wavelets. Nova breathed in hard as her pigtail bottoms got wet in the water.
"Stay down," said Nerissa.
Nova's voice was stiff and priggish. She was still mad at her. Why did two people have to be mad at her. "I don't see why I should, though."
"Listen to me. Stay down."
They stayed down. Nothing happened.
"I don't believe you," said Nova, and she pushed her away and stood up. Then the thing got her again and she fell in two bits, the bloody rivulets touching Nerissa's thigh where she huddled next to her two standing legs. The waves all sucked inward like the sea had pressed a button, and the sea lice were pink with Nova.
*
The sea glittered like a movie sea. This time she turned away so that she did not watch to see what happened, looking at the road instead. It was hot. The tar was liquid with summer, smelling like molten macadam and concrete, and on the other side of the road was a desert that stretched off like a Richard Bach book. On a clear day, you could see forever.
Behind her the thing got Nova again. Sailor Nerissa didn't turn around.
"Sometimes I think you wanted it to happen," said Rea politely.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Pegasus, turquoise movie-sea eyes half-squinted into the blinding sunshine as she looked out over the sand. The wind whipped bits of it against their legs, stinging them bloody. "I think you were relieved."
"I never wanted anything to happen to Sid," she said.
"Didn't you?"
They were strangers. She felt uncomfortable, naked. She wanted to wake up. She had been told two things about dreams: firstly that if you thought hard enough about waking up it'd bounce you out of REM and back to your bedroom ceiling, and secondly that you could catch bullets. Who had told her that, though? She could always catch bullets, Neo-style, pellets falling off her arms like she was made of adamantium. Who had told her that?
"I am so sick of this that they're going to have to invent a vaccine," said Nerissa.
"You won't send roses, either," said Rea. "Or hold the door."
She said she was sorry. Something got Nova again behind them, and she heard the thud of somebody's midsection landing against hot sand.
*
The sea glittered like a movie sea. She turned around and walked over the road right into the desert, kicking sand out of her flip-flops every time it snuck its sneaky way in. Her shoulders were getting burned. She burned if you looked at her. She needed SPF Over Nine Thousand. She never could have joined her mom at the navy base; her mother had always said her dad burned like a chicken in a rowboat, said her dad with a rictus grin. She'd gotten Mark Murphy's skin. It was inbred, kid.
Next to her for the longest time walked Callum, but he didn't say any of the Callum things or do any of the Callum things, just stared at the sand as they trod on together and left their footprints as a quad set. Eventually she left him behind, quickened her pace until he was gone. She had been able to do that for a long time.
"Forgot your keys, Cherry?"
She walked parallel to Ray Gordon's Miata as it bumped its way across the desert. One of his arms was hanging out the window as he kept his foot on the accelerator, kept pace with her as she made her way into the desert.
"Got a puppy in the back?"
"I taught Sid Winters a whole semester of English Lit," said Mr. Gordon. "She was terrible. Never made it through 'Our Town.' Jenny made it through 'Our Town.' Charlie Boyle made it through 'Our Town.'"
She said nothing. His car revved next to her, so Nerissa stopped and leant into his window. When she looked into the front seat there was nothing there. Ray had left when she wasn't looking. He'd probably always been planning to go when she wasn't looking: the sun had been in her eyes. She got a little panicked and looked around for anything left of him in the car to prove he'd been there, but there was nothing, not even a peppermint wrapper.
The sun was very hot. She decided to slither under the car and wait there, in the shade. So something got her.
*
The sea glittered like a movie sea, colour-toned Hollywood turquoise with the sun flickering off it. She stood watching Sailor Nova dig holes with her big toe and watch the water fill them up as the tide came in, in and out, in and out. Charlie stood next to her. She was very sorry. Ray stood next to her too, and next to him was Mark Murphy looking like a noodle in his corduroy pants and his button-up shirt and his scarf. He and Ray were talking and laughing like they'd never talked or laughed in real life. There would be no laughing. Laughter would not be on the menu.
In front of them something got Sailor Nova, and this time her midsection fell forward like she was taking a very long bow. Her spine was a smooth stump free from vertebrae, just a smooth splinterless little knob tinged a little red, not the way a spine should correctly look. Unfinished. Her arms were splayed wide open in the shallow water, palms down.
Her dad turned to her from Ray and leaned into the sun, the wind ruffling his hair. His eyes were alight with interest and for some reason they were incredibly blue. "Hey, Reese, did you know you can catch bullets in your dreams?"
So Nerissa walked straight ahead into the sea, and walked and walked.
