Two

1 – Shaun

   The field trip couldn’t have come soon enough by Shaun’s estimate. It wasn’t exactly with flying colors, but at least he could say he managed to survive the final exams with most of his sanity intact.

   He and Melissa emptied out their dorms together, bidding farewell to the place they had both spent so many years of their lives. They brought the essentials with them for the trip, from the smaller things like a toothbrush, and the much larger necessities like a tent to make a shelter with.

   The University was gracious enough to provide transportation for the seven-hour drive to Jalint’s capital of Dyan, loading up students inside four large school buses. This included a couple hundred students from the graduating class. Some of them, Shaun knew, but, most of them were complete and total strangers. Certain, particularly privileged, students chose to take their own car for the trip, defeating the whole purpose of the University covering the transportation cost, choosing to load up their car with friends and make a road trip out of it.

   Melissa had her head resting on Shaun’s shoulder, sleeping for most of the way. Long car rides put her to bed faster than the strongest Sleep Aid or one of Mr. Dawson’s lectures ever could. It was something Shaun quickly had learned about her. Meanwhile, Shaun did his best merely to relax.

   He, on the other hand, didn’t fall asleep on car rides, or, more specifically, he had trouble falling asleep in such crowded, occupied spaces. The fear of another student walking by and him having a drooling, stupid look on his face, he supposed. Despite that, Shaun knew he couldn’t allow that to stop him. After all, it’d be a seven-hour drive. If he tried to stay up through the whole trip, then, he’d only leave himself exhausted for when they arrived.

   Mt. Kass was a staple for Maharris culture, enriched by long-standing history and tradition. Making the trek up the mountain was an accomplishment that made it on many people’s bucket list. Shaun couldn’t help but realize how few films were made about its majesty, and knew that, with his camera, he’d have the chance to change that. A few shots of the scenery spliced into a short-film filmed at any regular old location would be enough to convince everyone it was all filmed on-location.

   Ignoring the vibrations of the bus after every bump and putting the chatter of the students around him in the back of his mind, Shaun did his best to fade to sleep, until …

* * *

   Mt. Kass stood tall as the landmark of all Jalint. Called “Mountain,” it more resembled a collection of ridges and man-made caves, of cliffs and trees, and a particularly high peak that often went unexplored. Animal rights organizations had done all they could to see to that, not wanting to see the beautiful domain for wildlife by diminished and destroyed for the benefit of those pesky humans. Activist lobbying led to Mt. Kass being called a landmark that must be preserved. The areas already naturalized for human exploration and turned into tourist attractions were allowed to continue as is, but it was made illegal to cultivate any further.

   The area even toward the top of the mountain was still often explored by some brave souls, but most tourists went against it, with fears of being mauled by a bear or something.

   Shaun and Melissa walked on. They waited their turn as the bus poured out with college students, deciding to wait until most of them filed out before they made their leave themselves. Each of them carried a backpack over their shoulders, Shaun opting to prove his manhood by carrying the larger of the two. Both wide-awake, or, at least, Shaun was wide awake and assume the same for Melissa.

   Before the path was a large stretch of dirt with cars filling it, the other buses were already parked, and Shaun could see Scott’s car was already parked there as well. In-front of that, there was a small rectangular building, about the same shape as a trailer. It was a bright-blue color and stood right before where the ascension up the mountain would begin.

   “You excited?” Shaun asked, giving an enthusiasm to his inflection that wasn’t really felt, himself much too preoccupied with how cramped his legs were.

   “Wee,” Melissa said in a monotone voice, following the rest of the group while they followed the dirt road.

   Before them, they could see Mt. Kass in all its glory, and glorious, it was, with Shaun feeling an unexpected sense of smallness at the very sight of it. The Mountain looked down at them, all thirty thousand something feet of it, and Shaun immediately felt an overwhelmed sense of fear. The idea of rolling down the mountain to his death crossed his mind several times in just a short couple of seconds. He was dead in his tracks, simply beholden to the sight that loomed over him.

   Soccer had always made him good at footwork, but now, it seemed difficult to take one step in-front of the other, with the thought of clumsily crushing his own head in with a rock. Shaun continued to stare up at it, feeling his inner scaredy-cat unleash.

   “Make a great shot for a film, don’t you think?” Melissa asked, turning around and looking over to Shaun, who couldn’t find the words to respond. “Shaun?”

   Shaun took a breath in and then, felt it leave him, looking over at Melissa with a cocky smile. “Definitely, I would love to have a camera crew up here,” Shaun said, though, the end of that sentence “to document my death” was something he chose to keep to himself.

   Melissa smiled and continued, leaving for Shaun to reluctantly follow. It didn’t cost anything to traverse up the mountain, but they did have an optional area for registry. This little blue building acted as a place to sign up for a “sweepstakes” of sorts. For five dollars, you get a membership that allowed you a discount on all drinks and concession stands posted throughout the mountain, and if you made it to the end of the path, you’d be afforded an even larger discount on the way back down again. A paying customer even received a nifty little rubber arm-band for their troubles.

    The woman at the front-desk was an enthusiastic, very talkative woman, mid-fifties at worst, maybe late forties, with blonde hair and a slim-frame. As Shaun did his best to pay no mind to her, her persistent personality was one too zealous and enthusiastic for Melissa to ignore. The lady had a motor-mouth, race-car speed that went almost too fast for Shaun to fully comprehend anything she said beyond the gist. She pitched how necessary it was to have a membership and how much money they’d save in the long run. Shaun pointed out they already had five gallons of water in their backpack and that they’d be alright alright for the couple of days they were there. But Melissa thought it was a good plan, and Shaun wasn’t about to fight a losing battle.

   He was a passive fellow that oftentimes found himself going with the flow rather than risk rocking the boat too much, especially about matters as trivial as a few dollars on a bracelet and a discount on drinks.

   In some respects, journeying up the mountain’s terrain was more comparable to a hiking trip than an actual test in ones’ rock climbing skills, and thank God for that, as Shaun had absolutely none in that department. The trail wasn’t a straight shot or a circle wrapping around, heading upward, and there were many different paths to choose from, all leading to mostly the same destination. Every now and again, they’d come to a sign that said “You are here” followed by a small blue dot meant to represent them. It made Shaun feel small and insignificant to the Sign Gods.

   “Are you excited, pretty soon it’ll be you and me, in a tent, no clothes, fucking each other’s brains out without a care in the world,” Melissa said, whispering into Shaun’s ear with an inflection that Shaun could only appropriately describe as being Melissa’s sexy time voice. It was a voice different from her regular one, distinctly reserved for special moments.

   “Yeah,” Shaun replied and felt a tad like a buffoon because of it, unable to find anything clever or sexual to really add fuel to the flame.

   Melissa was certainly attractive by his account, but her libido was off the charms, with more enthusiasm than he could muster himself. It was something most wouldn’t believe he if told them in conversation, even if they knew Melissa particularly well. It took knowing her on an intimate level to really sake sight of the almighty lady-boner that came uh-knocking at random times. In this moment, the last thing Shaun felt was aroused.

    After walking only an hour, he could already feel the blisters starting to form on the bottom of his sweaty feet.

   Once, he even flicked off a tick as it’d been crawling up his leg hair, making him paranoid ever since. He’d even already stopped to respray bug repellent for added protection. Paranoid and fatigued, those were two things Shaun felt, not turned on, however.

   “And I have a special dress I can wear for you, and you can do whatever you want,” Melissa said, once more keeping up with that voice she did. The voice was like a whisper, but with more behind it than that. Her stare always changed too, an empowered gaze that seemed devilish in its intent. Meanwhile, Shaun’s ass cheeks were chapped.

   “You think anyone has ever buried a dead body around here,” Shaun blurted out, although, as the words escaped his lips, he started to have second thoughts about whether it was the right moment to bring up such a curiosity.

   Melissa stared at him blankly for a moment, and Shaun wondered if she would bop him over the head for the remark. She didn’t, however, and instead, replied casually, “Are you thinking about what it’d be like to shoot a movie here?”

   “Aye,” Shaun said, for some reason, deciding he was a pirate, “I mean, it has all this area that isn’t mapped. The top of the mountain, some before, that isn’t even really touched on by anyone. I mean, it’s protected, no one’s really supposed to do anything up there. Mr. What’s His Face talked about how cults were seen around the area and there had been a couple of missing person cases in the past. Well, it’s really easy to get rid of a body when it’s pretty much illegal to dig it up.”

   “Your sexy talk needs work, but I see your point. Chances are there have been more than a couple freaky things that have happened here.”   “I’d love to shoot a film like that, an old-fashioned, slow-pace horror film,” Shaun started, himself having to stop between sentences to catch his breath. In great shape, Shaun was not.

   “Oh yeah?”

   “About this woman,” Shaun began.

   “Of course, what other victims are there?” Melissa jested.

   “Maybe I would have her be the cult leader,” Shaun said, backtracking on his original idea.

   “If you want her to be the victim, by all means, have her get slaughtered!”

   “I was thinking about doing it in a way you don’t usually see. I’d have it be about how this woman befriends this guy she meets from college. Maybe have it play out almost like a romantic drama, where everything is portrayed to make it look like this man is the nicest, strongest man she could ever dream of,” Shaun said, stopping in his tracks as Melissa crouched down to tie her shoes.

   “I was thinking that it wouldn’t come off as your standard horror film, but all while everything’s happening, I’d have the man, who is sociable and handsome, slowly develop a following of people that agree to meet at the top of the mountain for something like a cult ritual.”

   “Okay,” Melissa said, quietly letting Shaun’s wheels turn without interruption.

   “Do you remember Adrian Spade? The serial killer from Urgway? The guy kidnapped a small child for nearly fifteen years and was only a few blocks away from the kid. The small escaped when she was a teenager and ran to the fucking police station, really dizzy and out-of-it, Spade probably had her hopped up on some bad shit, told them all about the guy. She told them she’d been kidnapped, that she’d witnessed all these rapes and murders, the whole nine yards and all the trimmings, but they still released her in Spade’s custody. This is because Adrian had bullshit with a smile and told them the teenager was his daughter, and that she’d gotten into his prescription pills while he wasn’t home.”

   “Really!?” Melissa said, sounding stunned. “You’d think they would have, like, actually looked into some of that stuff.”

   “Adrian Spade played his role so well they thought the idea of him being anything sinister was too surreal of a concept. If you play the role well enough, you’ll always be surprised about what you’re capable of. You look around and before you know it, a spin’s class is turned into a madman’s cult. That’s what I want to capture with the film. The way someone can look like a person being selfish, and really just be someone crying for help, or someone can look like a quiet, respectable person and really be manipulative and not as friendly as you once thought.”

   “I’d watch it,” Melissa said with an approving nod.

   “You can play the survivor girl,” Shaun jested, walking in-front of Melissa, who chuckled at the proposal, and countered, “I’ll play the killer.”

   Shaun playfully grabbed Melissa’s shoulders, moving his hand back and forth miming as if he was about to stab her with a knife. Doing her part, Melissa theatrically sold her death, sticking out her tongue and making gagging sounds, feigning as if she was about to fall.

   At that same moment, Shaun could see the stares from a group of hikers, an older couple that stared at them like their spectacle was the most perverse and heinous performance they’ve ever seen. He watched as they gave him, and him, in-particular, a hateful glare and mouthed words that looked to be filled with scorn and disdain. Shaun felt offended for a short moment, doubting his effectiveness in this pretend scene, taking it as a personal criticism of his performance.

   Then, he realized it was an old white couple expressing their disgust over a white woman dating a black man.

   Shaun wasted little time with the opportunity, hugging Melissa tightly as he made full eye-contact with the both of them, who were still staring in disgust. And, even though it likely didn’t change their minds about anything, his desire to piss off the racist old farts was just too immense. He made the symbol of a “V” with his hands and licked between it, giving them a wink for their troubles.

   The couple scoffed, storming off and away from Melissa and Shaun, leaving Shaun nothing to do except laugh.

2 – Melissa

   Melissa could feel the weight on her shoulders now every step of the way. A bag that might have only weighed fifty-something pounds beforehand now felt like it was pushing one hundred. Her body felt sweaty and fatigued.

   The scenery was beautiful, however. To their left and their right were leafy green plants and trees. They took refuge away from them, however, sticking to a dirt pathway. For a small stretch of the walk, the trees even congregated overhead, leaning on each other, letting only small breaks of light from the sun peek out from between the cracks. It was a visual so appeasing Melissa might even have thought to take a picture of it at a different time, but, right now, all she was thinking about was when she’d be able to take her shoes and socks off, and then, rest.

   That didn’t deter Shaun from doing so though, him explaining how the visual overhead looked like an open-mouth, as if the forest itself frowned at them with the misshapen and crooked teeth of a meth-head. Shaun talked about how he thought the bright white light appearing overhead could act as an opener for a short film, and that he would insert the title in-between the gaps of the branches. He was collecting stock footage for himself, for lack of a more apt description, and with it, the wheels for his many ideas started to turn. The light would be a metaphor for depression in this drama, with the tree branches representing the darkness creeping in and taking over, and, at the end of the short film, he would have special effects to make it look like the tree’s “mouth” opened, letting the light in.

   Shaun was serious about filmmaking, which meant they had to have a compromise for the trip that blended what he wanted with what she wanted. He wanted to shoot a few short films to show off to one of his college professors and have him send out the best ones to his “contacts”. Melissa wanted a romantic weekend and memories to look back on that didn’t involve ruining white shirts with corn-syrup blood (she often played small roles in his short films) or watching him direct other classmates on how to cry properly. Even if it had made for a sight to see. The compromise was to film shots to splice into later films, filming key parts of the mountain for location.

   They hadn’t seen much sign of life for a little over an hour now, which was discouraging to her, if only because it meant they were no closer to meeting with their friends. That was their stopping mark, the point where they were allowed to sit around and hang out. Their friends had ridden in from Joule’s car, a beat-down vehicle from the early nineties she’d bought for less than seven-hundred dollars.

   Seth and Mack both accompanied her in the travel, but Shaun and Melissa fought against it. Partly because it seemed like a little bit of a tight fit, cramming all those people into her Ford Taurus like it was some type of clown car. But, also, partly because Joule’s vehicle was known to break-down on the way to local gas stations, let alone its survival chances in such a long drive as this.

   Joule arrived only a couple hours before they did and agreed to stop when they arrived at the second checkpoint to make camp away from the trail, it was there they’d all be able to meet and call it a day.

3 – Crystal

   Crystal boarded the school bus with trepidation and uneasiness, but, more importantly, she had her E-Reader and MP3 player ready to spend the next ten or so hours in an antisocial square of her own making.

   Jennifer hugged her when she visited The Diner a final time. She seemed proud of her, even took a photograph and gave her a free meal for her troubles. She said that they’d stay in-touch. Sure enough, one of the first things Crystal saw on her cellphone this morning was a friend request. Crystal smiled to herself, leaning her back against the knock-off leather seats of the school bus. This would hopefully be the last time she ever had to deal with anything school-related again.

   From her backpack, Crystal brought out the devilishly cute illustration she’d been working on. Only now starting to really dabble in the hellish colors. She’d brought it with her because, for some reason or another, she’d gotten it in her head she’d be able to spend part of the bus-ride over to the mountain polishing it up, but, sitting there now, it was clear to her that doing so would worsen the motion sickness she was not up to task to deal with.

   Instead, she only looked at it for a couple of seconds, critiquing it in her head and thinking about what it might eventually become. Truth is, a lot of her paintings never ended up as they were intended, a lot of them weren’t ever finished either. What might have started as one thing could easily become something different entirely, a fair-creature hovering over a rainbow, perhaps?

   She wished her best friend had been able to attend, but that was apparently too much to ask of the school. A shame, but she was intent on making the most of the trip and already made plans with a few people. Shaun and Melissa were casual acquaintances at best, and she hardly knew the others at all. It’d be the first real step she’d take out from her normal social group. Intent on making mom’s second mortgage on the house meaning something, she often refrained from parties or slacking with her schoolwork. The more the merrier, she supposed, leaning back in her seat with earbuds in. It was oddly calming to watch a buss of uppity college kids and hear none of them.

4 – K.J.

   Music blared loudly from the stereo, Scott bobbing his head like a careless buffoon in the driver’s seat of his cherry-red Subaru, smacking his hands down against the steering wheel in unison with the beat of the song that played. K.J. did her best not to comment on the probability of them getting into a wreck and crashing to their death.

   Instead, she pretended she enjoyed the loud, abrasive and repetitive rap music that the rapper mumbled their way through. Her mind was set on portraying the role of the “cool girlfriend,” of going with the flow and enjoying herself, doing things right for a change. Bryan was kind and sweet. She knew that even more with each brush of his hand over the back of her head. She snuggled up against his shoulder, embracing the comfort he made her feel.

   In the front seat with Scott was hi girlfriend Jessica, someone K.J. knew very little about. They weren’t of the same scene anyways. Similar, in a way, to how different Scott and Bryan were, K.J. and Jessica were opposites. K.J. smiled warmly at Jessica when she entered the car, and Jessica at least reciprocated. Nothing else was said between them, however. Not that small talk could be said when the music blared on as loudly as it did.

   Scott’s car smelled like it had recently been drenched from top to bottom with body spray and she could see the old French fries and trash littering the floorboards.

    “Are you excited to see the mountains?’ Bryan asked, carrying a polite smile as K.J. peeked her head up from the pillow she had forced his body into becoming.

   K.J. nodded, intending to go back to her resting position. After all, it was a certainty Bryan had asked her that question many times already before in the days leading up to the trip. It was something she’d noticed about Bryan. He was quiet, and yet, felt deeply uncomfortable in said silence, repeating questions for no other reason than to fill the air. The more K.J. was around Bryan, the more and more she started to wonder how he maintained a friendship with Scott or the others he was around. Where Scott felt comfortable banging on the steering wheel, improvising lyrics for a rap-song he might not have even heard before now, Bryan needed to engage others like a quota. It was a nervous anxiety that radiated off of him, but it seemed sincere as well, and, for some reason, she found that to be an enticing quality about him. It was a layer that she wanted to pull back, or a wall she wanted to climb over. She appreciated the simple change of pace of someone caring what others think. She smiled back at him.

   “What are you most excited for?” Bryan asked next.

   “Just hiking, I think it’d be cool to see some wildlife, maybe some deer or raccoon, maybe see what type of plants are out there, and take some pictures. Oh, lots of pictures,” K.J. said, rattling off anything she could think of. “And yourself?”

   Bryan started to speak but stopped when the music became noticeably louder. This was Scott’s doing, and with that, K.J. could see Bryan clearly tense up for a moment before easing again, “Just being away from things is all.”

   The travel went without a hitch. They stopped once for gas station food and twice because Jessica sucked down a large fountain soda and kept needing to stop and use the restroom.

5 – Scott

   “You called Bryan your closest friend, what do you like, in-particular about him?” The chubby old man asked, sitting in his chair. Scott tried not to act repulsed by the way his body hair protruded out from over the collar of his buttoned-up baby-blue shirt.

   Scott chuckled. The act was a nervous twitch he couldn’t define a clear purpose for, “Bryan and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. I can remember when we first met, because our moms were close friends? Aren’t cliché phrases strange? How I tell you I can’t remember a time without him, and then, immediately recount the time right before I met him? Anyways, I thought he was lame as shit, never a real outside person, always folded in on himself when he was with one too many people.”

   “But, unlike so many other people, he was loyal. I was, uh, popular, I mean, I played soccer, but, my Dad, well, I don’t really have to tell you about my dad, do I? The guy’s the one that pays for all these little tea parties with you and I. Bryan took an interest in me and stuck with it. He didn’t ever ask for anything. I wouldn’t have even been able to stay on the soccer team through high school if it wasn’t for him always helping through all my classes like he did. The guy never asked for anything though. I felt like he was only grateful to have my company.” Scott explained, feeling too much like a movie-star sad sack to lean back in the leather bed like he’d seen people in-therapy do on television.

   “It sounds like Bryan’s a good friend. It sounds like he really cares about you.” The therapist said, apparently intent on proving that all therapy was a farce.

   “Yeah,” Scott said, and then, stopped for a second, as if a hidden meaning the question was only now dawning on him. “He hates me though.” Scott said. The statement was as much as a surprise to himself as it was the therapist staring back at him. “I know he hates me. He has hated me for years now. Didn’t always,” Scott laughed nervously at himself. “I remember he used to like me. He used to think I was the coolest guy in the world. He used to make me feel like I could do anything.”

   “What changed?”

   “Him,” Scott said frankly, then, eased up, and adjusted, “And me, I guess. We went in separate directions. He started buying in that he was this deep intellectual and that I was this womanizing alcoholic that served no other purpose than to provide him entertainment and help him get laid.” Scott could feel the anger start to spurt out of him and rise to the surface, the stuff he was so much more used to pressing down or pretending didn’t exist. He could feel his eyes begin to water; an involuntary act he wished he could control. He hated to cry in-front of people.

   “And, you disagree with this opinion, the one that you think he has of you?” The therapist leaned forward in his chair, apparently having his interest piqued.

   “Oh, it’s more than an opinion,” Scott snapped back. “The guy gets a bit of booze in him and he sings like a canary to anyone that will listen. I told him how well my girlfriend Chelsea and I were doing, told him I loved her, and he told me that I only loved her ‘today,’ like I would toss her to the curb the minute I was bored with her.” Scott laughed, it was a laugh at himself more than anything else, really. That he’d made the therapists’ job as easy as only having to ask a few short questions to wind him up and watch him go.

   “It’s nice to know that you and Chelsea are still hitting it off,” The therapist commended. “You know, a study was conducted. It took a whole lifetime to simply gather up all the necessary data. It measured people from all different walks of life. It measured the rich and poor, black and white, clean slates and ones with criminal records. They followed these kids, watched them become men, and then, members of the senior community. They asked them what about their life made them the happiest. And, in their last questionnaire, the answer to that question changed for just about every one of them. The last time they asked, by the time they were all on their death beds, it was found that a majority of them found a happy life was not made through health or wealth, but through the relationships that are kept and nourished. Relationships that were made were deemed to be of the most value.” The man stopped speaking, perhaps meaning to allow for his words to sink in.

   The man, whose desk, Scott only now noticed had a plaque that read Dr. Marshall, a fact he’d probably forgotten he noticed already previous time he’d come to his office. Dr. Marshall had all his credentials framed and hung up on the wall behind his desk. The man stared at him, waiting on Scott’s response.

   “What are you saying? That I need to kick Bryan to the curb and cut my losses?” Scott asked, a smart-ass inflection to his voice to let him know his pompous, dime-store story had fallen on deaf ears.

   Dr. Marshall spread his hands out on the table and provided a ‘why not’ befuddled face. “If you are so bothered by him, does he do nothing but anchor you down?”

   Scott chewed on that for a moment. “I think him anchoring me down is what has gotten me this far. He keeps me from flying away. Bryan is the only one I know of that is who he really is, that’s own inhibition, might get in his way and make him hesitant, but never truly sabotages things for himself. Even if it’s for his own gain these days, I like to think one day he’ll save me if I ever fly to close to the sun. If things ever get too hot, he’ll be the one that keeps me from getting burned.” Scott met eyes with Dr. Marshall; his eyes were a watery fury.

   It was out there for Dr. Marshall to hear. Scott was digging himself a hole he couldn’t muster the strength to dig himself out of. He dug, and he dug, and the deeper he got, the fainter the light overhead became. It was funny how his mind chose to operate. Funny like off ones’ rocker, and not funny like something that brought anyone laughter. It was funny like someone who held their own hand over a burning fire, crying in agony after their fingers started to blister, knowing they could end the pain by simply moving their hand, but, for some reason, be it self-loathing or a strange kink, they never did.