IMMOLATION: CHAPTER 35

“So I'm thinking drapes along the south wall,” Matt said in reference to the one way glass that lined one side of the hallway.

Joan chuckled uneasily and gripped his hand more tightly in her own. The judge had ordered her back into isolation not half an hour ago, but somehow he had agreed to let Matt escort her back to her cell so she wouldn't have to be alone. Of course there were the guards behind the glass, watching, but they didn't count.

The hallway itself was nothing special. No doors besides the ones on either end, the one that lead to freedom, and the one she and Matt were walking towards.

“Would it be alright if I still came by every once in a while to get some measurements?” Matt asked.

“It's fine with me if they'll let you in,” Joan said.

“I could even try to smuggle you in some stuff from the outside.” Matt said in a conspiratorial whisper.

“They'd catch you,” Joan replied in her usual voice, “And whispering won't help you. They've got first class security around here.”

“Well then,” Matt whispered, “What would you like?”

“I just told you it's pointless.”

“Then pretend with me,” Matt said, “Seriously, if you could have had anything from the outside last time, what would it have been?”

Joan didn't even hesitate with her response. “Sunlight and a clear sky above me. Trees and open field. Ice cream on my birthday, and a new book every week.”

“Is that it?” Matt asked and earned a shove from Joan in the ribs.

They continued walking in silence for a few moments.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Joan said as a small patch on her back caught fire.

“Of course,” Matt said and ignored the fire.

“I mean, you didn't even have to come with me to the hearing.”

“Well I wasn't going to let you go through that all by yourself.”

The fire spread until Joan's back was completely engulfed. “Sorry if it's getting a bit hot for you,” She apologized.

“No worries,” Matt said, though he began turning his head back and forth as he looked from one end of the hallway to the other. “This is a ridiculously long hallway, you know that?”

Joan laughed. “Yeah, it's part of the ventilation and cooling system they built to keep me...to keep my fire contained.”

“Hmmm,” Matt looked around at the ceiling with its vents and fire sprinklers. “Security isn't the only thing that's first class around here. How's the food?”

“Ever tried to eat cardboard?” Joan asked.

“No, I can honestly say that I haven't.”

“Well, a couple weeks of the food here,” Joan teased, “And you might be willing to try it.”

“That bad, huh?” Matt grimaced.

“I think the cook here must have had his taste buds seared off at birth.”

“I'll have to see if I can smuggle in some food, then,” Matt said, reverting back to his secretive whisper.

“I told you,” Joan said, “There's no point in trying to sneak anything in. If anything it'll make them less likely to let you in to do any research.”

Matt just shrugged. “This is a seriously long hallway.”

“Don't complain,” Joan said, “You're not the one who doesn't get to enjoy it twice.”

“Enjoy it twice?” Matt said in disbelief, “How could anyone enjoy this?”

“I'd give anything to enjoy this hallway twice today,” Joan said, her voice serious.

“Right,” Matt said with embarrassment, “Sorry.”

At last they were drawing near to Joan's door and her flame spread over to her arm opposite of Matt.

“I wonder where Judge Dervin was,” Joan mused as her last few moments of relative freedom came to an end.

Matt stiffened. “I'm not sure,” He said abruptly. “I thought he was on vacation or something.”

“Yeah,” Joan said but before she could go on they had reached her cell. How the hallway seemed to stretch on for an eternity and then come to an end so suddenly was beyond her.

The thick, heavy door slid open with its usual sounds of finality as it ground down on the inner gears and locking mechanisms. Joan gripped Matt's hand even tighter, to the point he began to grunt in pain but still she couldn't let go. Her fire spread, feeding off her fear and covering her head and legs.

“Joan,” Matt said in such a calm voice that it somehow bypassed everything else going on in her mind.

“What?” She asked, tearing her eyes away from the room to look at Matt.

“Be careful not to burn me,” He said and Joan realized how close her flame was to reaching his hand.

“You're a great friend,” Joan said and she let him go.

Matt folded Joan's hand into a fist and then stepped back as Joan's fire wrapped the rest of the way around her. Joan shut her eyes and took in a deep breath of heated air and stepped over the threshold.

The gears in the door whined as they worked to shut the door behind her and when it at last settled into its shut position the locks clanged and sent an echo reverberating through the room.

Silence pressed in on Joan's ears as though she were beneath several feet of water. No hum of electricity or vents, no rumble of distant traffic. Her own heartbeat became a deafening drum in her head.

She opened her eyes.

The walls around her were bright but with the exorbitant number of lights they might as well have been painted black. The lack of doors, the bright lights inset behind protective glass, all of it was terribly familiar. It seemed as though she had never been let out, that the last few months had only been a dream that she was now waking up from. Her fire burned with her depressed and fearful emotions feeding it.

Something buzzed in her hand. The hand that had been holding Matt's, the hand Matt had been so careful to close before leaving her.

Joan opened her hand, careful not to let her fire touch whatever was in it. A small cell phone sat in her palm with its screen lit up and showing a new text message.

“Sorry it's not heat shielded,” The text read, “Spur of the moment thing. They shouldn't be able to see it when you're burning so if you ever feel the need to chat while you're on fire, send me a text.”

Joan stared in disbelief, thinking that she should say something back, a thank you at least, when she got another text.

“Treat it nice, it's my personal cell so now all I have is my work phone. No internet...Told you I could smuggle things in for you. And don't run up too big a bill for me.”

Joan's fire turned more relaxed and she spent the rest of her time burning reading web comics.

*       *       *

 What are your thoughts on how I've written Joan, returning to her isolation? Any thoughts on Matt, was it too far fetched to have him escort Joan to her cell?