IMMOLATION: CHAPTER 39

“So, Mike forgave me and we're back together now,” Melanie said, “Though he made me promise to never hit him again.”

Joan found herself chuckling.

“How long did the bruise last?” Joan asked.

Melanie thought as they continued to walk around Joan's enclosure.

“Not sure,” She said at last, “It must have lasted for three or four weeks at least.”

“Hmm,” Joan said, relishing the thought of a black eyed Mike, “Serves him right for trying to turn me in.”

“He was just trying to protect me,” Melanie said and she ran her fingers along the wall.

Bits of concrete fell away into her hand. Melanie stopped walking and Joan followed suit.

“What's up?” Joan asked, noting Melanie's puzzled look as she ground the concrete flakes between here fingers.

“Is this suppose to be so crumbly?” Melanie asked.

Joan ran her own fingers along the wall. “I'm getting hotter,” She said.

“Guards hitting on you again?” Melanie asked.

“That's not what I meant,” Joan snapped back and gave Melanie a light shove.

“So tell me,” Melanie began, a gleam in her eye, “How hot are you?”

“Stop it,” Joan groaned as Melanie feigned being overwhelmed by Joan.

“ Oh,” Melanie gasped, “Oh Joan, you're too hot, I can't take it. I just can't take it.”

Joan shot a burst of hot flame down her arm, the one brushing the concrete wall, and Melanie fell back in earnest from the heat waves.

“Ouch!” Melanie cried out, shielding her face.

Joan reined back in her fire and waited for Melanie to recover. “Sorry,” She said, “But look at the wall.”

Melanie recovered and checked herself over for scorch marks. There were none and Melanie looked to where Joan had burned. The concrete was still flaking away, adding its fine powder and flakes to the already existing pile at the ground.

“That's not good, is it?” Melanie asked.

Joan could only shrug. The guards and the new Judge had already expressed their displeasure, but like Joan they didn't know what to do about it.

“The walls are pretty thick,” Joan stated, “So even with my burning hotter it'll take a while to get free.”

“You mean you're doing this on purpose?” Melanie asked.

“No,” Joan sighed, her depression threatening to overwhelm her as the walls of her enclosure seemed to move in towards her ever so slightly. “But I can dream, can't I?”

Melanie nodded and smiled encouragingly at Joan as they resumed their walk.

“Besides,” Melanie began, “Who wants to be on the outside these days?”

Joan raised her hand.

“Yeah, well,” Melanie said, a note of seriousness in her voice now, “In the last few months that you've been in here, things out there have been getting pretty bad.”

“Worse than in here?” Joan scoffed.

You remember all those nuclear plants that got sabotaged?” Melanie asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, after those last two went,” Melanie explained, “They've shut down all the others, across the world.”

“Aren't they over reacting a bit?” Joan asked. “I mean, there are hundreds of nuclear plants.”

Melanie shrugged and rubbed off a bit more of the wall.

“Millions of people died, Joan,” Melanie paused, rubbing the concrete powder in her hand, “The last one to go was the worst, and it just freaked everyone out. They're still working on cleaning it up, and people are still dying because of the fall-out.”

“Have they figured out who's responsible?” Joan asked.

Melanie shook her head. “No, and now the oil fields are having problems.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Melanie said, “It began a few weeks back with some refineries breaking down, and now it's gotten so bad that some of the major oil suppliers are having difficulty meeting demand.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, gas prices are going through the roof and some countries have even gone to war over it.”

“The world's a mess,” Joan sighed and she leaned against the wall.

Melanie joined her and they stared across the enclosure. The scorched ground, the occasional bits of metal furniture, the heavy sealed doors. Melanie gazed up at the ceiling, the skylights being the only source of light now that Joan's fire had become so powerful that electric lighting had become unrealistic.

“Yup,” Melanie agreed, “The world's a mess.”