Last Expedition

A crisp Sunday morning in late fall. The large church and its white steeple tower above the rest of the quiet neighborhood. High above the ground, suspended in the steeple, the church bell tolls, drawing surrounding ears to its majestic clang.

Warmly dressed people are exiting the parking garage and crossing the street to the church, puffs of condensation exiting their olfactories. On top of an adjacent church building, steady clouds of thick evaporated water are spewed upward from a series of cooling towers working to keep the entire block of church buildings and its inhabitants warm.

An old man drives by the front of the church in a worn pickup truck. He brakes, allowing a couple and their bundled-up children to cross in front of him. His eyes dart between the parking garage and the massive sanctuary and he scowls, recalling the serenity of this century-old neighborhood before the century-old church began to build these monstrosities. One of the children - a little girl, no older than 5 or 6 - stops briefly to smile and wave at him, and despite the man's attitude, he can't help but return the gesture.

Inside the warm facility, guitars strum, drums beat, and a woman's amplified voice resonates as the worship service begins. The younger attendees, clad in jeans and sweaters, immediately begin clapping and swaying in time with the music. Meanwhile, the more conservatively dressed elders stand erect, inserting fingers into their ears and grumbling to each other about how much better church was back in the good old days. Then they look around at the intricate displays of stained glass throughout the sanctuary and take comfort in the traditions that haven't died away... yet, at least.

Out in the cold, the church bell still rings from its spire, its monotonous melodic soliloquoy punctuating an otherwise serene urban landscape.

On another Sunday morning, the neighborhood was just as quiet. However, on this Lord's day, there were no cars driving up the parking garage ramps. There were no families bustling their way across the street. There were no tweeters or subwoofers inside blasting amplified sound frequencies, and, for that matter, no instruments or voices to amplify at all.

The church bell had not sung its lonely song in many years.

In fact, where once the bell hung a hundred feet off the ground, it - along with much of the steeple - now rested on the partially caved-in floor inside the sanctuary.

A few miles away, a shattered nuclear reactor continued to belch invisible radioactive particles into the air. The particles were neither as intense nor as plentiful as they had once been so long ago, but they certainly were life-threatening.

After the power plant meltdown, the large city of hundreds of thousands of people had to be evacuated. As the population was frantically evacuated, various teams of nuclear experts and work crews came in to attempt to minimize the exposure. They were able to get the radiation somewhat contained within a couple of days, but by then the damage was done. Radiation had already saturated many parts of the city, as well as the soil and water, and the metropolis would be unable to safely support life for potentially hundreds of years.

As years passed, the radioactivity slowly waned, but there were still some intense pockets of radiation in various parts of the city. Using satellites and other technologies, various governmental agencies were able to monitor the decrease in radiation. However, in the interest of public safety, they still maintained that no one should try returning to the city for some time. Every decade or so, the government had to send in trucks to replace the crumbling concrete barricades on the streets and highways, blocking access to the dormant city.

Even still, the government knew the Expeditions would likely continue.

The so-called "Expeditions" began only years after the initial incident, and were borne out of the morbid curiosity of a group of friends to venture into the radioactive zone. After a few trips, they even started bringing video cameras and later produced a documentary, entitled "Expedition to the Ghost Town", which made them millions of dollars. Of particular interest were some very interesting examples of mutated foliage, presumed to have been caused by the nuclear radiation. Following the documentary's release, numerous copycat Expeditions began appearing as the curious and stupid ventured their way into the city creating their own misadventures. Many did not know the risks, whether from the radiation or the lacking integrity of many of the structures. This led to some unfortunate accidents, resulting in some people returning home ill from radiation exposure, and dying within a year. Others didn't return home at all, caught underneath a collapsed concrete pillar or sustaining other injuries which made their exit from the city impossible.

The government mostly turned a blind eye. It had tried to police the city's perimeter, but it was far too costly and the environment and health groups were up in arms about military or police receiving constant exposure, no matter how "safe". Building a fence was equally unreasonable. Still, something had to be done to discourage people from going. Finally, the state legislature was able to pass a law stating that no one could be treated for radiation sickness or other injuries resulting from visiting the town. Expeditions slowed to a crawl following that legislation, and remained as such for years.

But Expeditions did indeed still occur. In fact, one was in the works, as a small group of college students who called themselves the Garlics were preparing to make the trip to the condemned area.

Pete always had hated the name "Garlics", but since it was trendy and cool to name your Expedition team, and since the group had voted in favor of it, there was little he could do about it other than quit. His older sister, Amber, had come up with the name, intending it to be a throwback to their childhood days of storming the suspected neighborhood haunted house pretending to extinguish any suspicious supernatural activity. There were so many possibilities for a name there. "Wooden Daggers." "Ghostbusters." (Okay, maybe that one was a little overdone.) The "Garlics"? Come on.

Indeed, their Expeditions were, in a way, just higher-stakes versions of their trips to the creepy vacant house. Although not "ghosts" in the accepted supernatural sense, there were many ghosts in the town. And this time, Pete and Amber's gang were trying to listen to ghosts rather than exterminate them. These ghosts told stories about a civilization uprooted at the drop of a hat, prompted by an awful accident made at the hands of flawed mankind.

The Garlics (God, what a terrible name!) had been on four Expeditions in the span of a year, each one going a little further into the city. They explored everything from abandoned apartment buildings and offices to museums and schools. None of the group members were even a twinkle when the meltdown occurred, and it was fascinating for them to see the now-antiquated technologies these people used. People still used phones with buttons on them! Television displays with borders! And the "computers" they left behind barely deserved the designation! It was like stepping back in time.

On their last expedition, the Garlics had grown bored with just wandering around and going into whatever building suited their fancy. Chris, one of Pete's friends and a founding member of the group, suggested they pick a specific target and spend the entire Expedition there. It would have to be a big enough place for them to spend the entire time there, but there were plenty of options. They all agreed to go do some research and then meet back at Amber's apartment to discuss.

On one wall of Amber's living room, a large video display showed two street-level satellite photos of the city: one taken long ago, before the accident, and one taken only a few weeks ago. Both maps scanned simultaneously, providing a before-and-after view. Currently Pete was operating the display.

"I think we should hit the university," he said. "Over 50,000 people attended it. There are dorms, offices, and even a couple of museums and performance halls. It's pretty spread out, but I think it would be worth it."

"The university?" Blaine, one of the newbie freshmen, asked. This would be his first Expedition.

"The university," Pete repeated.

Amber got up off the couch and walked to the display. "We can't do the university," she said, scrolling the map to the left and soon revealing a large industrial complex - the old power plant. "It's less than a mile away from the core."

"Satellite data shows that the radiation exposure is acceptable in that area," Pete replied.

"No," Amber persisted. "The university is downwind of the reactor. If a stronger wind kicks up, the exposure will be higher. Besides, it's too far into the city. We'll exhaust ourselves before we even get there, and then we'll have to come back at some point. Maybe when we can get our cars further into the city, but not now."

Pete looked defeated, as often happened in discussions with his sister. He always played the risk/reward game, while she always wanted to play it safe. Unfortunately for him, many of the team members also preferred to play it safe. Maybe he would quit, and start the Wooden Daggers.

"I agree," nodded Melissa, one of the founding members. Others followed, and Pete sat down. "So where ARE we going?"

"Well..." Amber started, and scrolled the maps up and to the left, finally centering on a block of buildings in the middle of a neighborhood. "I was thinking we'd hit this church. It had been around for over a hundred years before the meltdown, and it was one of the largest churches in town, so there is probably a lot of history in it. Also, it's several miles northwest of the core, so it's less dangerous. It's also only about a mile within the restricted zone. According to this satellite photo, much of it is still intact."

The old satellite photo showed a large steeple rising out of the largest building, the sanctuary. The recent photo showed no steeple and a gaping hole in the roof. Still, much of the rest of the site did appear to be intact.

"We've never done a church before," Chris said. "I think that might be pretty interesting."

"Yeah, that would be pretty cool," Jana, another freshman newbie, injected.

"Well, if there are no objections..." Amber announced, pausing for a response. Everyone seemed to be in agreement, except for Pete, who just looked disappointed. "Then that's where we'll go. Let's meet here next Saturday morning at 8."

As the week passed, Amber became increasingly excited. She had been to England and seen all of the majestic old cathedrals. They had all been built with such amazing character and technique, especially considering the technology available at the time. For some reason, she always had a soft spot for churches, and now she was getting ready for an entirely new experience with one.

Saturday morning finally rolled around, and Amber awoke early to make final preparations for the trip. She made sure the dosimeters were fully charged, inspected the gas masks and replaced the filters, and got out the rented jumpsuits. When the group arrived, they loaded up Chris' SUV and prepared to leave. However, Pete had still not arrived by the predetermined time.

Amber pulled out her wireless phone and called Pete. He finally answered. "Yeah."

"Pete, where are you?" Amber asked impatiently. "It's time to go."

"I'm not going anymore. Not with you guys, at least."

"What is THAT supposed to mean?"

"You guys always play it too safe. I'm tired of it. You can have all the fun you want where you're going, but not with me."

"Pete, we NEED you! We can't go with an odd number." This was true. Going with an odd number would mean that someone would have to be by themselves, instead of having all pairs.

"Yes, you can." Pete hung up and the connection went dead.

"Dammit!" Amber shouted and put her phone away. She stood and thought a moment, the others gathered around waiting for her to say something. Was she really playing it too safe? Finally, she looked up and said, "Pete's not going. We're going without him."

"Wouldn't that give us an odd number?" Jana asked somewhat nervously. Freshmen... always masters of the obvious.

"Yes, it would," Amber replied. "I'll be the solo."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Chris said. "If something happens..."

"We'll be careful. Let's go."

Following Amber's unusual decision to go without full pairs, everyone piled into the car somewhat reluctantly. However, once they were on the road, reservations diminished as talk shifted to school, relationships, and other such subjects. After a couple of hours, as they drew closer to the city, traffic slowly began to taper off until there were no cars in front and none behind.

Finally, as they entered the outer city limits, Chris drove more slowly as they all took in the sights. Billboards were blank, the printed material on them having long since faded or fallen apart. Buildings were dark inside, the power grid having long since been deactivated. The roads were in terrible shape as well, with cracks and potholes littering the path into the city.

After another ten minutes, the car reached the outer perimeter of the restricted zone. Concrete barricades blocked off the road, and a large red sign with white letters stood above them that read:

CAUTION: FEDERALLY CONDEMNED AREA
HAZARDOUS CONDITIONS
TRESPASSERS PROCEED AT EXTREME RISK

Familiar yellow and black radiation symbols bookended the large white text.

Although the veterans of the team had seen the sign several times now, it still sent chills through their spines.

Chris stopped the car, and everyone got out. They would have to proceed on foot from here on in. The three women made the guys turn around while they undressed down to their underwear in order to put the jumpsuits on. Then the women returned the favor while the men changed. They found that the jumpsuits were more comfortable without much clothing underneath, and that there was less clothing to absorb radiation. Then they distributed the masks and dosimeters and headed off to their destination.

As they got away from the interstate, they were amazed as they entered the church's surrounding neighborhood, where they had never been before. This had been the city's oldest community, and many of the houses were not carrying their age very well. Some had completely collapsed into a pile of rubble, while others sat in varying stages of disrepair. Cracked driveways were empty. Even a tire swing still hung from a tree, left only to twist in the wind without any chidren to play on it.

As they continued walking through the streets, a break in the trees up ahead revealed their final destination. Trees and houses abruptly ended at one street, and across the street stood the majestic sanctuary, over six stories tall.

The brick facade was deteriorating, with some bricks missing, revealing the steel structure underneath. Some of the front doors' hinges had failed and the doors hung crooked in their frames. Remarkably, much of the exterior stained glass was intact, unaffected through all these years. As they continued walking past the sanctuary, they saw the church's other buildings. Some housed Sunday school rooms, while others housed offices for the church staff. One building even looked like a smaller version of the large sanctuary. There were some remnants of some signage on it; "CH P L". "Chapel", perhaps? On the other side of the street stood the massive parking garage, seemingly untouched. There were plenty of opportunities for exploration.

"Wow," Blaine said, looking up at the tall sanctuary.

"I read that the steeple on top used to stretch another five stories in the air," Amber said.

"Sure looks out of place for this neighborhood," Chris mentioned. It was rather odd to find such a huge collection of brick and concrete in the middle of a bunch of tiny wooden houses.

"Okay," Amber announced, "Melissa, you pair up with Jana and take the buildings in the back. Blaine and Chris, you guys look through the offices and maybe this chapel. I'll take the sanctuary. Meet back here in an hour."

The team split up and each headed for the entrance nearest their target.

The inside of the church was a mess. Fallen ceiling tiles, lights, and chunks of sheetrock littered the floor. Not to mention all of the relics of the time period all over the place. Walking through one of the halls, Amber stumbled on an old vacuum cleaner. "Damn old crap," she muttered.

After walking down one long hallway, she found herself at the interior entrance to the sanctuary. Light shown through a small window in the door. She carefully pulled the door open and stepped into the sanctuary.

This entrance faced out into the audience, with the giant altar to her right. A balcony only a few rows deep stretched along the side and back walls, forming a U shape that ended at the altar. Part of the balcony on the other side of the room had collapsed, spilling its pews onto the level below. As she had seen in the satellite photo, the roof had also failed in some places, causing the steeple to topple inward. The sanctuary floor had also caved in in the middle of the room, revealing a three stories of collapsed basement underneath.

"What does a church need with three basements?" Amber thought to herself.

Some of the steeple still rested inside this great room, while other parts of it had fallen below. Amber made her way around the perimeter of the room, along the wall where the floor would be strongest. Reaching the back of the room, she saw the giant steeple bell, as wide as she was tall, upended on the floor a few feet out from the wall. She carefully crept out to it and was able to make out an inscription:

DEDICATED JAN 3 1983
THEREFORE WHAT GOD HAS JOINED TOGETHER
MAN MUST NOT SEPARATE

Amber pondered the irony of that for a moment before continuing to look around. Now she had a perfect view of the church's altar. Although part of it was caved in, it rose about six feet up above the floor with steps leading up, with a large deep platform. Behind and up a little ways was a large choir loft. Amber could even still see a couple of microphones dangling above the loft from the ceiling, and wondered what was the last song those mics heard. Behind the choir loft was the tall apse of the sanctuary, reaching up to the ceiling over 40 feet above. Triumphant gold-plated organ pipes lined the wall, as did glorious stained glass windows. Looking up, Amber could see the sky through the maw of metal roofing and steel girders. It was truly an awe-inspiring sight.

Another odd thing that caught her attention was a strange plant that rose out of the floor another few feet out. Making sure not to put too much pressure on the precarious floor, Amber slowly walked out and knelt down to inspect the flora. It had worked its way through a crack in the floor and had blossomed quite large, with a stem perhaps six inches in diameter and small branches less than half that. Surely it extended far below the floor as well. Many of the branches twisted off in various directions to indeterminate destinations, but one had terminated right there, with a moist round bulb a little bigger than a golf ball hanging from the branch. A small leafy cradle hung just beneath, creating a tiny pool into which the red bulb's clear liquid dripped.

Amber drew herself closer to the unassuming bulb and held up her dosimeter. The exposure was well below dangerous levels. Without really thinking, she reached up to remove her facemask and smell the plant.

"Wait, stupid," she told herself. But then she second-guessed herself again. Perhaps her brother was right, that she was playing it TOO safe. Thanks to her dosimeter, she KNEW that plant was safe. What was to stop her? Amber pulled the facemask over and off her head.

For the first time she really caught wind of the stale stench of decay inside the grand church and gagged. Unable to replace her facemask before drawing another breath, she quickly turned her head and vomited profusely. When finished, Amber leaned backward and lied down for a moment.

Now she had a problem. They had been planning to stay for another 45 minutes, but now Amber would be battling a sour stomach and the possibility of dehydration. There was not much to do about her stomach, but one option for drinking water came to mind. She rose her head, eyeing the water-like drips once again. Her sense of smell was adjusting to the air now. Slowly, Amber brought herself to her knees and scooted herself next to the plant. She cupped one hand under the bulb while gingerly tipping the cradle forward, dribbling its contents into her hand. "It FEELS like water," she thought. She sat there a moment, again hearing Pete's voice...

"You guys always play it TOO safe..."

"Fuck it," she thought, and finally brought her hand up to her face and drank.

To her relief, it tasted like water as well, although it was warm and not incredibly refreshing. However, drinking warm water was better than stumbling around weakly, so Amber decided she should probably drink some more. Leaning forward, she opened her mouth and closed it around the bulb. There was a satisfying squish as the bulb compressed between her jaws, causing water to trickle out and down her throat.

Barely an instant later, the bulb swelled considerably, filling Amber's mouth and nearly causing her to gag. Startled, she tried to open her mouth enough to remove the bulb, but it had grown too large and was stuck between her jaws. She grabbed the branch with both hands and yanked away from her, her grunting muffled by the bulb, but even that didn't cause the plant to budge.

And then she noticed it. After she had given up pulling the bulb out, she watched the branch firm up ever so slightly. She barely had any time to consider the cause before water began gushing out of the bulb and into her mouth. Caught by surprise once again, Amber gagged again, but it didn't do any good. There was no place for the liquid to go but down.

The bulb swelled again, pressing against the back of Amber's throat, and she began instinctively gagging repeatedly, choking on the water before it finally flowed down her throat. It took her a moment or two, but she was finally able to adjust to the flow, fighting to close her throat while she took a quick breath, and then letting the water continue on down.

It wasn't until Amber felt herself leaning forward and downward that she noticed her stomach had grown. It had pulled the midsection of her jumpsuit taut and made her look several months pregnant. Shocked, she struggled to get to her feet, and began tugging at the branch again, but it was no use. Desperate for options, she remembered the pocketknife in her back pocket. If she couldn't pull the branch out, she could cut it! As she reached behind her, she realized that it was not just her stomach that was growing. Her hand met her backside before she expected, as it had also begun expanding now. Unable to move her head much, due to the branch it was attached to, Amber could not see what was happening behind. Fumbling around her growing posterior with her hand, she felt the pocketknife - deep in her back right pocket. She tried to cram her hand into the pocket, but the jumpsuit was growing too tight. Underneath the suit, she felt the waistband of her panties snap.

The only way to get the knife out was to loosen the material. The only way to loosen the material was to take the jumpsuit off.

Amber reached up to her neck to began unzipping the jumpsuit. As she worked it down her body, it stopped near the top of her stomach, and glancing down, she was shocked at how much she had grown in that short a time. She had to really push hard to get the zipper further down as the material got tighter, and even then she couldn't reach far enough out to get it all the way down past her belly... she was simply too big. Still, it was possible that she had unzipped enough for her to egress, so she began frantically pulling her arms out of the suit.

Her breasts began to bulge within her sports bra as she managed to push the suit down to her waist. However, that was as far as it went. Amber's butt stuck out almost a foot in back, and her stomach possibly three feet in front. Her thighs were beginning to grow as well, and Amber wondered if it was becoming hopeless. Then she felt a seam rip open between her legs, and it spread down the insides of her legs and up her front and back. She also felt the zipper, somewhere near her belly button, loosen as it was rended from its seam entirely. Before long, what was left of the jumpsuit fell limp to the floor.

Amber grunted with satisfaction before realizing that now she had a new problem. Having the pocketknife on the floor, and not in her hand, didn't do her any good. And now it would be harder to reach. Struggling with her added weight, she tested the strength of her knees to bend down far enough so she could reach down and pick up the suit, but they grew shaky before she was anywhere close. Amber returned to her standing position, wincing in discomfort at her size, and having to lean backward to keep from falling forward. She really was becoming huge now, and before long even her breasts would not be contained within her sports bra. Also reducing the effectiveness of her reach were her growing sides.

"I need to do something NOW," she thought. Looking to her side as best she could, she thought she still might be able to reach the suit if she were closer to the ground. Using her feet, she kicked the suit to the side and out from under her, and then tried to slowly lower herself to the floor. Unfortunately, as soon as she unlocked her knees, her legs gave and she fell forward, landing on her enormous belly and rolling backward onto her knees. The floor beneath her shook from the impact and she heard a creaking sound, only adding to her uneasiness about the situation.

The strained sports bra finally ripped in the front, allowing her breasts to burst through. With her mobility shrinking rapidly, Amber reached down her side as far as she could, pinched the suit between two fingers, and pulled it off the ground. Her bent legs began to bulge underneath her as her back began spreading out behind. She couldn't reach her left arm across her breasts, so she had only one hand with which to search the suit for the pocketknife. Her fingers frantically fumbled through the suit looking for the knife, hoping to find it quickly.

And quickly she did. Feeling the hard object in the mass of fabric, she jumped with surprise and struggled to remove it from its pocket. With knife now in hand, she let the suit go, now only needing to open the knife. Reaching her hands above her head (because that was the only place she could bring them together), she opened the blade 180 degrees until the sharp edge was fully exposed. Underneath, her legs began to straighten uselessly as her belly now began lifting her knees off the ground. She could no longer flex her legs at will. Reaching up, Amber took the knife and began to cut the branch as best as she could, grunting through the stream of water still pumping down her throat.

Ultimately, her best was not good enough. Even after getting a pretty good slicing motion going, she barely made a nick in the surface of the branch. Then her arms, from shoulders to fingers, began to swell up, and Amber was forced to throw the knife away before dropping it on herself and... well, who knows what. She heard the blade rattle against the floor several feet away as she stared the branch down.

With no other options remaining, Amber pondered this strange plant. Was this occurrance natural? "Natural" barely described what was happening to her, it seemed. If not that, was it random, perhaps in the way that dandelion seeds fly? Or maybe it was a defense mechanism, or some sort of trap? Amber was reminded of feeding bugs to the Venus fly trap she'd had as a little girl.

Amber's physical features diminished as she continued to grow larger and rounder, and before long she found her mobility reduced to zero. The floor shifted again, causing her round form to quiver and her to gurgle on the water. A groaning sound arose from the old steel supports under the concrete, and Amber began to feel cracks working their way across the floor underneath her. The tenor of the groaning steel rose, and a low rumble began to rise before the floor eventually gave way, with large sections of concrete dropping into the basements below as the steel crumbled underneath. The great bell fell downward and clanged loudly as it hit the bottom.

As the blimped Amber began to fall, the branch of the plant snapped taut, whipping Amber's head about and causing her to gurgle in pain. And then, as soon as it began, it was over. As her bottom side lost contact with the floor completely, she was left to dangle there helplessly like a bauble from a Christmas tree, occasionally bumping into the plant's thick stem that had been below the floor level. Her weight was causing intense stress on her mouth, and she wondered how long it would be before either of her jaw, her teeth, or the branch broke. There were three basement floors. In her condition, it was unlikely that any outcome would be good. She thought back to standing on the roof of her family's house as a kid, dangling a water balloon over the edge before dropping it onto the sidewalk below in an attempt to hit Pete.

For a few moments, there was relative silence as the ruckus of the collapsing floor subsided. The gulping sound of Amber's repeated swallows seemed to echo throughout the entire space. To an observer it might even have seemed peaceful. (Certainly not to Amber!) Suddenly, short, jerky motions began to send quaky jolts through her body. The branch was beginning to give, causing her to sink a few inches each time. With each jolt, the flow of water into her throat receded a little. As if that was any consolation at this point.

As the jolts became more frequent and violent, Amber's body sloshed in midair, and time seemed to slow down. Amber began to reflect on her life, and consciously wondered if this was the proverbial "life flashing before her eyes." Various images flooded her mind's eye before, finally, she saw herself as a slender young woman entering this hollow sanctuary. She now revisited the sensations of her massive size and shape - the pressure, the weight, the tightness. How was this possible? How could her figure have been distorted so?

And then the branch broke.

Far off in another part of the building, Melissa and Jana were looking through a collection of toys they had found. This must have been the childrens' part of the church. Melissa was surprised to find that she had had many of these same toys as a little girl.

Jana looked up, disturbed. "Did you hear that?" she asked, furrowing her brow.

"Hear what?"

"I thought I just heard a... bell."

"Weird."

Amber slowly opened one eye, then the other.

Had she fallen at all?

Her violent wobbling seemed to indicate so. Feeling the ground far beneath her also helped to prove that hypothesis.

But she was alive.

The branch fell limp and thunked against her side. The stream of water had stopped, and the bulb in her mouth began shrinking. As soon as it was possible, she managed to push it past her teeth with her tongue, then spit it out. It slide down her side and fell away beneath her.

Amber looked around as best she could, working her sore jaw. When she landed, she had rolled backward somewhat, and she was now facing upward. The thick stem of the plant twisted from beneath her all the way up to the ceiling. Looking up, she saw her rounded form rising up, her highest point reaching only a few feet below the remnants of the sanctuary floor.

She was almost big enough to fill the entire basement.

"Wow."

Just being alive was something of a small victory, though.

Ultimately, though, as Amber began to adjust to her rotund state, she didn't care. For the moment, this was better than being dead. She wasn't sure what the others would say when they found her. Neither was she sure what SHE would say. She just hoped they found her soon, so she didn't have to be alone.

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