Page 23

CLOVER

The truck is too quiet.

Phoenix stares at the road, jaw clenched, while I pretend to be fascinated by the landscape passing outside my window. Every time I sneak a glance at him, I see the tension in his shoulders, the tight grip of his hands on the steering wheel.

I hate that we’re fighting.

I hate even more that he might be right.

But he doesn’t have to be such a dick about it.

I mean, I get it.

He’s worried about the club, about his sister, about keeping his promise to my brother, but I don’t need constant scolding. I have a job to do, and trying to balance the normal and the not-so-normal parts of my life is freaking hard.

Did I think before posting that video? Not really. But did I need to be talked down to like I’m clueless? Definitely not.

You can tell me not to post it in a respectful way without berating me in a room full of people and alien merch.

I sigh heavily, causing Phoenix to glance my way for a brief second before returning his attention to the road.

“Next stop is the abandoned water park,” I mumble, breaking the silence but keeping my tone neutral. “Should be another half hour or so.”

He nods, not looking at me. “Sounds good.”

The tension between us is thick enough to cut with a knife. I want to say something—to clear the air or at least make the rest of this day bearable—but pride keeps my mouth shut.

He’s the one who overreacted.

Let him apologize first.

Instead, I busy myself by checking the video settings on my camera and making sure I’m prepared for the water park. According to my research, it’s the perfect spot for the moody, atmospheric content the campaign needs. Plus, I bet the late-day light will make those rusting slides and empty pools look hauntingly beautiful.

As we drive deeper into the desert, signs of civilization grow even sparser. It’s just us, the highway, and the occasional tumbleweeds. Despite the argument still hanging in the air, there’s something intimate about being the only two people for miles around.

“There,” I say finally, pointing to a faded sign in the distance. “That’s the turnoff.”

Phoenix slows the truck, turning onto a rough gravel road that leads toward what looks like an abandoned compound. As we get closer, the skeletal remains of what was once a vibrant water park come into view—twisting slides now rusted and faded, an empty wave pool cracked and filled with sand, concession stands with broken windows.

It’s beautiful in a sad, post-apocalyptic way.

“Well, shit. It looks like another world in there,” I breathe out, unable to contain my excitement despite our fight.

Phoenix parks near what was once the entrance, killing the engine. “It looks unsafe,” he observes, eyeing the rusted metal structures.

“That’s kind of the point.” I grab my camera equipment. “The campaign is about unexpected experiences, places that tell a story.”

He sighs but doesn’t argue, getting out of the truck and surveying the area with a cautious eye. “If this were a story, it’d be Fallout. Just, be careful, okay? Watch for sharp metal, unstable platforms.”

I nod, some of my irritation fading at his concern. “I will. I’m not planning to climb anything, just taking photos and… I promise to keep an eye out for ghouls,” I tease, replying to his Fallout jab.

He raises his brow at me like he’s impressed I even know about Fallout, and I smirk, grab my gear, and start making my way through the park.

The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the abandoned area, creating exactly the dramatic lighting I was hoping for. I move through the space slowly, capturing the eerie beauty of once-bright slides now faded to ghosts of their former selves, the empty pool where families once splashed now home to only dust and desert plants.

Phoenix follows at a distance, giving me space to work but keeping me in his sight. Despite our argument, I find his protective presence comforting as the shadows grow longer and the place takes on an increasingly otherworldly vibe.

“This used to be the Rock-A-Hoola Waterpark,” I explain as I set up a shot of a rusted slide twisting against the sky. “It was originally called Lake Dolores, named after the owner’s wife. Opened in the fifties or sixties, I think?”

“What happened to it?” Phoenix asks, seeming genuinely curious.

“Failed a few times. Changed owners, changed names. Someone got paralyzed on one of the slides. There was a lawsuit, typical sad story.” I adjust my lens. “Last tried to open in the early 2000s before closing for good.”

He walks over to what must have been the wave pool, peering down into its cracked concrete basin. “Seems like a weird place for a water park. Middle of nowhere.”

“I think that was part of the appeal. An oasis in the desert.” I switch to a wider lens, wanting to capture the scale of abandonment. “Plus, it was on the way to Vegas. Families could stop and cool off.”

As the sun sinks lower, the light becomes almost magical—golden rays catching the metal of the slides, casting deep blue shadows in the empty pools. I lose myself in the photography, moving from spot to spot, chasing the perfect shot as the light changes.

“Clover.” Phoenix’s voice breaks my concentration. “It’s getting late. We should think about heading out soon.”

I glance at my watch, surprised to see I’ve been shooting for over an hour. “Just a few more shots. This place is, I don’t know, there’s something magical about it. Don’t you think?”

He sighs but nods, leaning against a faded concession stand while I continue working. I’m setting up a shot of the park’s old sign when I notice something dark moving in my peripheral vision.

At first, I think it’s just a shadow, but then I see it clearly—a small black cat perched on top of one of the smaller slides, watching me with suspicious yellow eyes.

How the hell is a cat alive out here, all by itself?

“Phoenix,” I whisper, not wanting to startle it. “Look.” I point at it dramatically.

He turns, following my gaze to the cat. “Where the hell did that come from? We’re in the middle of nowhere,” he asks the exact thing I am thinking.

“Maybe it lives here?” I suggest, slowly lowering my camera. “Poor thing probably got abandoned like the park.”

I take a cautious step toward the slide. The cat’s ears prick up, alert but not immediately frightened.

“Here, kitty,” I call softly. “It’s okay.”

Phoenix steps toward me. “Clo, it’s probably full of fleas and disease. Plus, it’s a black cat. A black cat, Clover! We don’t need that kind of negativity in our lives right now.”

Halting my approach, I turn to glare at him. “Are you kidding me? You’re superstitious?”

He shrugs. “Not normally, but right now, I do not want to try my luck with anything. Leave the cat be, Clover. Let’s go. C’mon.”

Turning back to the cat, I wave Phoenix off dismissively. “Don’t be ridiculous. What if we’re the only chance he has to survive out here? If we leave him, that’s bringing bad karma on us, too, you know?”

“All right. You do you. But when I’m having to clean your wounds because this thing scratched you up, I’m going to say I told you so.”

Glancing back over my shoulder at him, I simply grin. “Okey dokey,” I reply cockily.

Phoenix groans as I turn back to the cat. The cute little thing watches me, tail swishing slightly. As I get closer, I notice it’s thin but not starving—its black fur is surprisingly clean for a stray. There’s something almost eerie about finding it here, like it’s the guardian of this forgotten place.

I reach the base of the slide and extend my hand slowly. “It’s okay, little one,” I say again. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

The cat stares at me for a long moment. Its bright yellow eyes feel like they’re burning into my soul, then suddenly, without warning, it arches its back, hisses sharply, and darts away, disappearing among the ruins.

I stand tall, my heart racing as I go to reach out to try to grab him, but it is too late.

He’s gone.

Like the speed of a vampire.

“Damn,” I mutter, disappointed.

Phoenix steps up behind me, gently placing his hand on my shoulder for moral support. “Sorry, Clo, I don’t think it wants to be your friend.”

Letting out a wounded sigh, I nod. “He’s scared,” I reply, turning back to Phoenix. “Probably hasn’t seen people in a while.”

“More than likely, which means that he has adapted to living out here. He’s gonna be okay, Clo. And anyway, we really should get going. Sun’s almost down.”

I look around, realizing he’s right. The light has shifted from golden to deep orange-red, the shadows now long and dark across the park. It would be easy to get hurt in here with limited visibility.

“Just one more set of shots,” I plead. “Over by that big slide. Honestly, we’re not going to get this chance again, and the content for this place truly is magical.”

Phoenix checks his phone. “Fine. Ten minutes, then we really do have to get out of here.”

I nod, then hurry over to the tallest slide—a massive, twisting structure that must have been the park’s centerpiece. The setting sun catches the faded red plastic, making it glow like it’s on fire.

As I’m shooting, I spot my friend, the cat, again, watching me from a safe distance. A small smile crosses my face, but this time, I just keep working, hoping it might get curious enough to come closer on its own.

The light fades rapidly as the sun dips below the horizon, and I finally pack up my equipment, satisfied with what I’ve captured. The abandoned water park has exceeded my expectations. The shots are moody, evocative, perfect for the campaign’s vibe.

“What did you think?” I ask Phoenix as we walk back toward the truck.

He surveys the darkening park, now looking more ominous than charming. “It’s sad, I guess. All this work, all these dreams that someone built, just left to rot.”

His words hit something deep inside me. “Yeah. Makes you think about how fragile everything is. How quickly things can fall apart.”

We share a look, and I know we’re both thinking about home—about the club, about what might be happening while we’re out here playing tourist.

The fight from earlier suddenly seems petty and small.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “About earlier. You were right. I should be more careful about what I post.”

He shakes his head. “No, I went about it the wrong way. You’re just doing your job.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking tired. “I promised I wouldn’t make you feel like a burden, and then I went and did exactly that. I could have handled it so much fucking better.”

“You’re worried. I get it. We’re both just trying to figure out how to handle all of this.”

I rest my hand on his arm, just lightly, but he looks down at it like I lit a match on his skin.

When he lifts his gaze to mine, something shifts in his expression. It’s not the usual clipped control or distant frustration.

It’s heat.

Animalistic hunger.

Something unspoken and absolutely not allowed.

My heartbeat kicks in. The air between us stretches tight. It hums with something sharp, electric, completely and utterly dangerous.

I don’t move.

Neither does he.

My breathing quickens, and I notice his does too. The air around us feels like it’s getting thinner, almost like even though I’m frantic for breath, I can’t catch it. His hand finally moves slowly, deliberately, and gently slides up, caressing the side of my face. The instant he touches me, I bite down on my bottom lip, my chest heaving with the adrenaline flowing between us. I forget where we are, what we’re running from, and I get lost in those intense blues.

I see it in his eyes.

The second he decides, and my stomach explodes with butterflies.

“Fuck it!” he growls, his hand on my face pulling me toward him, our lips—

BANG!

A loud pop cuts through the silence like a gunshot. We both jolt, breaking apart just before our lips fully connect, a hiss rising behind us, followed by a thick stream of white smoke from the truck.

“What the?” Phoenix snaps, both our heads jerking to the side. “Oh fuck!” he groans, taking off at a run, and I chase after him without thinking.

My Converse slap the concrete, dust kicking up in little puffs. The smell hits before we even get there—sweet and chemical, biting at the back of my throat. Steam pours from under the hood of the truck like it’s bleeding.

Phoenix throws it open, but he’s instantly hit with a blast of heat and stumbles back, shielding his face. “Shit!”

My chest tightens. “What happened? Did something blow?”

He steps in again, squinting through the steam cloud, the muscles in his back coiled tight. “Coolant hose must’ve cracked. Probably built up too much pressure sitting in the heat too long.”

I hover near the side mirror, the thick scent of coolant mixing with grease and sunbaked metal. “ Please tell me you can you fix it?”

He wipes a grimy hand across his face, frustration radiating off him. “Not out here. No parts, no tools, no light.” He slams the hood closed with a frustrated, hard clang. “We’re not going anywhere tonight.”

The words settle over me like dust.

I glance around, and suddenly, the water park feels different.

It’s not whimsical or weird or charming anymore.

It’s a skeleton in the desert.

The slides look warped and alien.

The old snack bar is just a rusted box.

And the sky…

The sky is bleeding.

Yellows fading into orange, orange into red. The shadows are getting longer and darker as if the day is closing in on us.

With an impending sense of doom looming over me, I fold my arms over my chest for comfort. “It doesn’t look so charming now,” I murmur.

He doesn’t say anything, but I feel the same thing he does.

We’re stranded.

Night’s coming fast.

And we totally just nearly fucking kissed!

“So, we’re sleeping here?” I ask, trying to keep the concern from my voice.

Phoenix peers around, assessing our options. “Looks like it. Let’s see if one of those old buildings is secure enough to camp in,” he says, clearly avoiding the kiss topic like I am.

As if to underscore our predicament, the black cat reappears, sitting at a distance, watching us with those unnerving yellow eyes.

“Great,” Phoenix mutters. “You wanna tell me again how your little friend isn’t a bad omen?”

I can’t help a nervous laugh. “Maybe it’s good luck?”

“I think black cats are the opposite of good luck, Clo. And our situation right now proves it.”

Despite everything, I smile. “Well, a situation is only what you make it.”

He gives me a look that says our situation is screwed and then heads toward what was once the park’s main building. “Come on. Let’s find somewhere to sleep before it gets completely dark.”

Letting out a heavy exhale, I follow, casting one last glance at the cat. It blinks slowly at me, then turns and disappears into the shadows of the abandoned park.

Somehow, I don’t think we’ve seen the last of it.

“Thanks, kitty, thanks a lot,” I whisper, then take off after Phoenix because I do not want to be alone out here after dark.