IMMOLATION: Chapter 20

“Oh my gosh, shut up!” Melanie cried, throwing one of the many shirts laid out in front of her at Joan.

“It's true,” Joan said, holding up her arms in defense against the projectile clothing.

Melanie glared non-threateningly at Joan and tried on another outfit. “What about this?” She asked.

Joan only shook her head. “You're supposed to be helping me decide on what to wear,” She said witheringly, “Not the other way around.”

“Yes, well,” Melanie retorted, “You're not trying very hard so you might as well help me instead.”

“Right.”

“Besides,” Melanie went on, “It's your first date.”

“Exactly,” Joan exclaimed as she held up another outfit for appraisal to which Melanie made a face of disgust. “You and Mike are already going out. I don't see why you're so concerned.”

“Ah, see, that's where you're wrong,” Melanie said wisely. “Why try hard when there's no solid relationship? No promise of reward. But when you've got 'em hooked,” Melanie winked conspiratorially, “That's when you want to impress them and keep them interested.”

Joan shrugged and returned to her own pile of clothing.

“I don't even know why you wanted so much time to get ready,” Melanie said, more to herself than to Joan, “Date's not even for another three hours.”

“Hey Mel,” Joan said, using a nickname reserved only for the most dire of situations.

“What is it?” Melanie asked, dropping both her pretense and the clothes she was holding.

“I haven't been on a date since Junior year.”

Melanie stared at Joan for a while, taking in the anxiety in her face, the worry in her voice. “That long, huh?” She said at last.

Joan shrugged. She knew it was a silly thing, especially considering how nervous and uncomfortable Tom apparently was with the whole situation. But still, it was one more thing her lost year had taken from her. Not to mention the renewal of how disappointing her Senior year had been without a single date. She and Melanie hadn't been as close as friends then so it didn't surprise her that Melanie didn't know.

“Okay, then” Melanie said, brightening, “Tom's favorite color is yellow so I think that top there would be best,” Melanie indicated a shirt in her own pile. “And that skirt there would go really well with it,” She pointed to one of Joan's skirts, a lightweight flowery one she'd bought the moment she was released but hadn't found the right occasion to wear it yet.

Joan eyed the shirt Melanie was holding out for her, it was new, the tags were still on it and everything. “You know what could happen,” She said, still not taking the shirt.

“It's okay,” Melanie said, not backing down and offering the shirt more forcefully.

“But what if—

“Oh just burn a hole in the back of it and get it over with!” Melanie chuckled, half throwing the shirt at Joan.

Joan pulled the shirt off from covering her face. The tags caught slightly in her hair as she did but came free without too much trouble. “You're sure?” Joan asked before changing.

“Burn away,” Melanie said with a flippant wave of her hand, though Joan could see a hint of regret in her eyes.

Melanie would never let Joan go on the date now without the shirt and Joan knew it.

“I'll try not to burn,” Joan said as she put on the shirt and looked herself over in the mirror. It fit her quite nicely. “Thank you,” She said.

Melanie nodded and opened her mouth to say something but her cell phone rang and cut her off before she could get any words out.

“Hello?” Melanie said as Joan put on her flowery skirt and admired her reflection. She'd never had a very good eye for matching clothes. Melanie was a natural. Perhaps Melanie could—

“NO!” Melanie screamed, making Joan jump and almost ignite.

In the short amount of time it took Joan to turn around, Melanie had sprinted from the room.

“What's wrong?” Joan called out, following her into the living room. The TV was on and Melanie had collapsed onto the couch, barely in a sitting position.

Melanie's heart didn't seem to want to work right. It couldn't be true. Something, someone had to be wrong. But there it was, on the television, breaking news and everything.

“...this morning when the first of three explosions rocked the facility,” The news anchor said. “Authorities are still uncertain how much radiation has been released.”

“Melanie?” Joan's voice intoned from somewhere nearby.

“...that were supposed to prevent this kind of accident seem to have failed,” An expert was saying. “We're not sure why yet, and we're not ruling out the possibility that this wasn't an accident at all, though our investigation is ongoing and may take some time.”

The image on the television screen changed to that of an areal view of the nuclear power plant. The silos that vented the heated steam were gone, collapsed in on top of themselves. Several of the containment units were nothing more than piles of rubble.

“Melanie?” Joan's voice again, closer this time.

Melanie's heart still didn't want to work right and insisted on skipping beats. Her breathing was becoming uneven too.

“It could take weeks, if not months, to clean all this up enough for us to begin recovering the bodies,” The expert on the television said.

“Dad,” Melanie managed to utter. She swayed, her vision tinting green and darkening around the edges. Her stomach joined her heart in its irregular constrictions and she thought she might be sick if she didn't pass out first. In fact, it seemed to Melanie that it had become a race between the two.

Her stomach won. Barely.

Joan got to Melanie's side right in time to get a lap full of vomit. Through her disgust and gagging, Joan still manged to catch Melanie before she hit the floor.