levitate.

“Surely there must be a lot to do lesson wise, teach kids about the past and all that.” He asked, looking at him. “Yeah, people dying, not returning, I can understand that. Us guards have been on higher alert since we heard about Kyle’s death.” He mumbled, thinking about the death for a moment. “It’s far worse now honestly.” He mumbled shaking his head. “Better to take a break, than to constantly be dealing with some of the stuff we have to, just for a few minutes try and forget at least.”

“Yes, there should be a lot, but what kid wants to learn about the past in front of what may be the biggest disaster seen in the 21st-century? Akin to that of the dinosaur extinction, with humans dying out like flies? They focus more on surviving the night than learning about what Christopher Columbus did to the native population of Latin America or what Aristotle’s rhetorical triangle means -- anything we say as teachers isn’t exactly verbatim, anyway. Textbooks are dead weight and we need to scorch through whatever stuck in our minds before the apocalypse to teach. An education doesn’t guarantee survival like it did before this; my college degrees are now something to stuff in the fireplace, if anything.” Elliot grew quiet, letting his words sink into his mind. Was he just rambling? The situation placed on these kids was exhausting, and he couldn’t imagine being in their shoes. As a kid, he was carefree and didn’t have to worry so much about dying the next day. Now? These kids? Death was synonymous to living. He turned to the other male, offering some sort of sympathetic smile. “Yeah, I heard about that. Didn’t know him very well, but anyone could tell Kyle was a good man, with good intentions. I’m sure he put up a fight -- and should be remembered honorably.” He nodded, turning back to the fire in front of them. “Sure. Sometimes you wake up and still think you’re at your apartment and not in some man-made tent with three other people with you. Fuck, sometimes I can still remember what it felt like to light up your cigarette, or what it felt like to drink a little after a long week. If I had known we were going to be dry, I would’ve stacked up on cigarettes and alcohol like they were rations.” The teacher laughed. “Or is that just the dirty addict in me talking?”

Elliot’s smile came back more genuinely. “You’re right, this isn’t my place, but fuck -- thinking of lesson plans is just ... mind-numbing after a while. Uh, same reason. I needed to distract myself -- everything’s been kind of chaotic with everyone ever since the blizzard, you know? ‘M guessing for you too, though; or, always is? Since you have to be on constant look out.” Elliot shook his head. “Would kill me in a second, man. I’d be sneaking out for breaks every ten seconds just so I don’t burnout,” the teacher said, smiling.

Hearing the voice, he figured out who it was instantly. “Well obviously Elliott, you’re talking to me.” Kaleb replied, running a hand through his hair. “What exactly are you doing out here?” He questioned, hoping that his bottle was hidden well within the bag beside him. “Care to join me?” He asked tilting his head and smiling slightly, the buzz feeling stronger as he moved his head around. 

@elliothuerta

Sleepless nights weren’t uncommon to Elliot. Even before the apocalypse began, he would find himself in the same position he was currently in: sprawled on his bed (or sleeping bag), staring up at the ceiling with his forearm covering his forehead, praying sleep would come to him. Now it was even worse - his thoughts would race at light speed; there was so much that could go wrong in this world and that did little to ease Elliot’s prone-to-nerves self. He understood, however, that the other male that shared his tent was dealt a shorter stick from the pile. He didn’t know how far it went, or how bad it was, but he’d seen him; face constructed like he was confused, angry, terrified during his sleep. He woke up right when he was drifting to sleep, and most days, Elliot is far too deep into his REM cycles to help; today was an exception. Freddie jolted him awake from his thoughts. Confused, Elliot slouched up and turned towards the other. “Hey, man. You okay?” He questioned after a while, giving the other time to regain his breath. Of course he wasn’t - anyone with some common sense would see Freddie’s reaction and be concerned.

"Jesus Christ!” Elliot was making it a habit to roam around the edges of the campgrounds, even taking a risk and slipping into the outside for a run or two. He knew that it had to stop, but today was an exception. He didn’t even know where he was going - he just needed a breath of fresh air (which he got plenty of already). His palms raised and his heart still beating from discovering someone else along the path, he knew it was time to stop roaming outside. He needed to just stick with his schedule and the two rooms that confided him: the classroom and his tent. “Put it away,” he said, trying to appear nonchalant (Elliot didn’t know how successful he was if he could feel his nerves raising up his spine). “I’m not a walker.”

Amara’s green eyes found the man and she jumped slightly, but quickly regained her composure. Realising she’d fainted and that someone was near her, her instinct was to go for a weapon. But she had to assume, given he didn’t have a weapon pointed at her and that she wasn’t in any different way than she’d fainted, though she had obviously been moved, she had to assume that she wasn’t in danger from him. He would’ve had every opportunity to kill her himself or leave her for a walker. She tried to decide how to go about this. “Amara.” She said, though her voice came out scratchy and dry, maybe because of the lack of water or maybe because of the fainting, “Uh, I’m alright. Have you been looking after me?” She asked calmly, trying to make her voice as non-threatening as possible, seeing as she could see he was nervous. “Thank you.”

Amara pulled her heavy head up with a small groan. She couldn’t remember going to sleep here– in fact, she wouldn’t have. This wasn’t secure in any way and there was nothing set up to protect her. It hadn’t even occurred to Amara until this very moment that should she faint in the apocalypse, everything could end badly. She’d barely eaten since the storm, not to mention the changes in weather– it made sense medically, but in regards to staying alive, the spinning surroundings did not make her feel in any way safe or secure. She was sure she could defend herself if she needed to, on adrenaline alone, but she suddenly felt much less safe in this world. It was almost as though she had forgotten normal, old bodily problems would still come into play.

"Hey,” Elliot spoke up once he noticed Amara was awake. He sat up from the slumped position he was sprawled in, a nervous smile stretching his concerned expression. He didn’t know what to do now. The teacher had gone over this situation probably a dozen times while he waited for her to awaken, going over what to say. ‘Hi, I’m Elliot and I hope you’re not dangerous? Or at least spare me?’ He knew it was risky to associate with people outside of camp, but he couldn’t walk away once he witnessed her fainting. He stood up and walked closer to her, staying a comfortable distance away from the redhead. They were still a little bit away from the Crimson Tide campgrounds. He hadn’t known if it was permissible (or even safe) to escort an unconscious body to the tents, or if she would want to. “I’m, uh, I’m Elliot. Are you feeling better? Don’t stand up.” He was nervous, but tried to play off as nonchalant, the concern dripping in his words.

Mack’s eyes shift up, searching for the being that created the sound of a twig snapping. She slowly rose, drawing her bowie knife. The red-head turned around and stared straight into the eyes of the producer of the sound. “Oh, uh, hello,” Mack muttered backing up a few steps, her eyes wide.

Oh. Elliot froze, his right foot hovering over ground once he heard the snap. He slowly raised his hands up upon seeing the knife, a nervous smile twisting his lips. “Hi - sorry.” He stared at the knife and moved his eyes upwards. “I’m not going to, uh, hurt you? I’m just making my way back - honest.”