Richie found himself quietly laughing with her as they hugged for a moment too long. The feeling of her body against his was one that he would always look back on, fondly. It wasn't the seventeen-year-old mentality that made it memorable. Richie just adored beauty in all of its incarnations and Alejandra was a prime example of that splendor. Her laugh was enough to make the entire situation he'd plunged himself into well past worth it. When their hug was over, Jaimie was within ten feet of them and looked ready to fight.
"The fuck are you doing?" the well-muscled man asked as his chest bumped hard against Richie's.
"Nothing, man. Just being friendly," he answered when his reverse stumbling act was over, adding the smile that had saved him from many physical altercations during his short career as a teenager.
The smile said, “Hey, we're all friends here. Let's just get along and enjoy the day without beating anyone up. What do you say?”
Jaimie, who seemed immune to even the most advanced of charming expressions, had chosen not to listen to the message. His fists were balled and ready in front of him as he advanced on Richie's position.
Richie’s “Let’s Be Friends” smile fell back to his usual grin, the one that helped him to get
into
trouble instead of the other way around. Richie's mouth opened to harass the guy some more, readying itself to give a little bit before the receiving started, but he was interrupted by Buddy's shouting voice.
<><><>
Valdez, AK
September 2, 2021
1:16 AM 74*
Richie coughed in the midst of his laughter. Amanda hadn't moved in quite some time, though he could still hear her breathing. He decided to take a break for a few minutes, as her weight was beginning to wear him down. She wasn't a heavy woman, by any means, but his strength was ebbing. He was becoming more familiar with the lack of food and rest that all of the inhabitants of their once great planet knew so well.
Richie stepped to the side of the road, knelt down as carefully as he could, and set Amanda onto the ground. He knew it couldn't have been very comfortable laying there, but if she didn't like the place she'd been put then she could just wake up and move. That would serve her right.
He sat without anything to lean on and soon gave in to his body’s constant screeching for rest. Richie laid back, playing the scene of that day. It was from a time when the world was still alive, and the brief respite from the reality he was facing couldn’t be all bad.
He snorted, again, remembering that Alejandra had smiled at him as her man walked toward them with violence on his mind, but didn't try to stop Jaimie from expressing that hostility. Richie, young and cocky in his ways, had shrugged lightheartedly and waited for the bruising that would soon come.
What happened then, Richie?
Elvis asked from his grave in DeBolt, Alberta.
"Buddy came running up with you in tow. Don't you remember, little brother?"
Nope. I can't remember a thing about it.
"Buddy bellowed at the guy, calling him all sorts of names and ranking his mother out. It surprised me to death."
Buddy was crazy!
"Yeah, but he was fast, too. That guy started chasing him at a dead run, but Buddy stayed ahead without even trying. All you had to do was wait for Jaimie to come by and stick out your foot. He ate enough asphalt to feed him for a month and gave us all time to get out of there."
It
was
pretty funny. I remember now.
Richie kept beaming for a moment more. It was pleasant to smile, whether to himself or in the company of a dead man. He pushed the thought away, suddenly uneasy, and sat up to check on Amanda.
He didn't know what was wrong with her, or even how she'd been knocked unconscious, but his friend was still alive and that was plenty of reason for him to keep carrying her until they found camp again.
You remember how to get there?
Elvis asked him.
"Yeah. I think I do."
He focused his eye on the road ahead of them. He had to check the dust for his footprints to make sure that he was looking in the right direction. There weren't any signs to follow, just yet, so Richie would have to take care to keep his bearings. He used one fingertip to draw an arrow in the dirt, just in case. It would be easy to get lost if he didn't keep his eye on their direction of travel.
Ha! Keeping your eye on it should be easy!
Benny shouted from the depths of Richie's mind.
"Oh good. You're here too," Richie said to the new voice, a grimace taking his features.
Only sometimes,
Elvis answered for him.
"Man," Richie breathed as his right hand reached for the pocket watch that wasn't around his neck anymore, "This is
not
good."
His fingertips touched skin that hadn't been free of the time piece in a long while. Richie couldn’t exactly remember what had happened to his talisman. The only sure thing was that he didn’t have it anymore. The ticker would likely silence the voices and keep him anchored in his tangible existence, but the option wasn’t a present one. Richie would have to suck things up and soldier through his mind's tricks, or embrace them, until Amanda woke.
In an instant of inspiration, Richie looked at her hair. The tresses were still fairly short, like his own, though none of them had been able to cut their hair recently. It was enough for Richie to know that he was still in the real world, though, not poking around the dream with his dead friends.
He observed the rise and fall of Amanda's chest, seeing that she hadn't joined them in the afterlife. Richie let out a sigh of relief. He was aware that the danger hadn't passed, but was also relieved that it hadn't already taken her away from them.
Where's Buddy?
"At camp, hopefully," Richie answered.
What if he came looking for you?
That was a new thought, one that had occurred in the first week of their being held prisoner, but hadn't come up in the last few days. Buddy wouldn't have stood a chance at finding them at the lair in which they'd been held, but he might now that Richie was on the road again.
He nodded, not seeing his dead friend on the side of the road, but knowing that Elvis was in his mind. It was a good point. They would have to be on the lookout for Buddy and whoever he might've gotten to come with him.
"The night is real," Richie whispered as he sat up, not really needing the words to keep him grounded, but feeling their comfort, anyway.
He struggled to pull Amanda's limp form from the dirt and back onto his shoulders. He tried the fireman's carry, draping her across his upper back to distribute the burden, and found it a bit more comfortable. Richie took a few experimental steps and chose to keep the form for at least a few miles.
"You guys ready?" Richie asked all of his companions.
Too many voices answered.