@flood0
Eventually, Waylon makes it out of theĀ āSea of Nectarā, via the train. He tries not to think too hard about the view out the window between the seas, all empty space and bright pinpricks of stars in the far distance, the sun burning hot and bright behind him. There will be time to deal with that- or, if thereās not and he wakes up at home, it wonāt matter. TheĀ āSea of Tranquilityā seems a likely enough place to find some peace, and so thatās where he gets off, glad to leave the vastness of space behind.
Itās like a woodland, and thatās pleasant enough that Waylon finds his tension easing a little. Still, thereās too many people at the heart of it all, and he drifts soon enough towards the outskirts, and then further out, into the woods. Heās no tracker, no cartographer, no navigator, and he knows it- he follows the straightest path he possibly can, knowing that when he tires of wandering out in the quiet of the trees, heāll want to be able to turn back around and make a beeline for the station.
Itās peaceful, out here. Waylon walks for what feels like hours- where he expects the forest to end eventually, to peter out, it doesnāt, just stretches on and on. He thinks about Lisa, the boys, wonder if theyāre worried about them- hopes that his contact is helping them with their moves, maybe helping them settle into a new home, under protection. Murkoff will have no reason to keep targeting them, when they realize heās really gone. He doesnāt even realize, for a while, that he has the camcorder open- not recording, but itās up like he is. He snaps it shut nervously, decides itās time to turn back around.
Except... except he takes a straight line, and he walks at the same speed, and he cannot for the life of him get out of the forest. Time seems to lose meaning, and he wonders... where- where did he get turned around? Heās just starting to truly lean into the panic of it, thighs and sides burning from the brisk walk heās been doing, lungs aching, when thereās a shout, echoing strangely off the trees, source unseen.
Waylon does exactly what comes naturally to him- he bolts.
Right into someone else as they burst out from behind a tree, and he makes theĀ singularly least dignified sound of terror, falling back onto his ass and scrambling to push himself to his feet again.Ā
Oh please be sane-
āSorry!ā He gasps, shaking, readying himself to dodge, to run, fingers tight on his camcorder.Ā āSorry, I didnāt mean to run into you- uh- do- do you know the way back to the train station-ā
Be normal, Waylon. He looks fine.
