Life is Strange, page 19
…Dammit.
“You said you were going to be careful!” she snaps. “I told you playing with people’s emotions was dangerous, and now look what you’ve done!”
“Steph… I-I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize to me,” she hisses, “apologize to Jonah! He’s up there all by himself thinking his friends and family think he’s a failure! What do you think he’s thinking up there, inches from death? Talk to him, Alex, you have to!”
I look up at him, leaning his elbows on his knees, resting his face in his hands, sitting atop the thing siphoning power back to Denver that he helped build.
The sky darkens, darkens like a bruise, purple and angry, rain falling in purple tears around us, and I look to Steph.
“You lied to me,” she says, her red aura growing, bleeding into the purple air around us like watercolor.
“No,” I shake my head. “No, I did my best—!”
But I don’t get a chance to finish.
Lightning flashes around us, yanking me back to Jonah, and now, when I look up at him, I see what he sees. All around, there’s not a human to be seen. Just huge, purple blotches so dark they look almost black. Glowing white teeth and eyes face Jonah, mouths hissing hungrily as if they might climb the dam and eat him alive.
“I have to get up there,” I say, mostly to myself, but Steph hears me.
“What?!” she cries, pulling at my arm. “You are absolutely not going up there. Can’t you yell at him from here? Or call him?”
“Steph, if I don’t go up there,” I say, “Jonah may not make it down.”
“But if you go up there, you might scare him down,” she says, glancing back up at him.
I follow her gaze, remembering how Jonah and I ended our conversation, with him making up the quickest excuse—any excuse—to get the hell away from me.
A thought strikes me like a sack of bricks.
What if by dialing up Jonah’s fear of failure, I also made Jonah afraid of the thing that made him afraid?
What if Jonah is afraid of me?
What if he’s afraid of what I’ll do if he doesn’t do something about the dam? About the environment? About Barbazal’s future?
Steph is right, I realize. I can’t go up there. And I can’t be the one to talk to him.
“Jonah Macon, I know you can hear me!” hollers Clover’s bullhorn-like voice from among the crowd, her own red filling the air around us, battling his purple with glowing fury. “Come down from there right now and let’s talk about this!”
Her accent is coming in strong now that she’s angry.
“Whatever the hell kinda notions you’ve got in that head of yours, you need to talk to someone. Just talk to me!”
I look back up to Jonah. He’s painfully still. Unmoving. Unwavering. He says nothing.
Clover’s shoulders slump in defeat, but she’s not giving up quite yet.
“I know you’ve been overwhelmed with the election and… everything,” she says. I remember the baby they’re about to bring into the world together, and it strikes a bolt of pain through my chest at the thought that this child could grow up without a father if I don’t do something. Quick.
I can hear the tears in Clover’s voice as she continues.
“But like you said, we’re gonna make it, right?” She turns to the crowd around her, the purple monsters, some with cameras now, all eyes on her now. “We’ve got to make it.”
Affirmative yeahs and mhmms and even a preach! from the crowd indicate she has their ears.
“Jonah Macon will bring home the bacon!” she yells to everyone who will listen. “Jonah Macon will bring home the bacon!”
With each repetition, more voices join the chorus.
Jonah Macon will bring home the bacon!
Jonah Macon will bring home the bacon!
Jonah Macon will bring home the bacon!
Jonah pushes himself to his feet.
The chanting crowd of blotchy gremlins clips into a series of gasps and shrieks.
“He’s gonna jump!” cries a nearby elderly woman frantically.
But he doesn’t.
He stands there. And he yells.
“Clover!” he calls, his voice echoing across the vast fields now that the crowd is dead silent. “Thank you. For your kind words, and your kindness. But I have thought about this for a long time, and I’ve made my decision.”
This unwavering purple storm begins to swirl in the sky like someone is stirring the clouds with a giant spoon.
“No,” I hear Clover’s voice bark, her red cloud flaring against his, beating the darkness back.
“I’m not going to jump,” he assures the crowd. Everyone, including me, breathes a huge sigh of relief. Thank god. “But I am going to keep my promise. I have something to admit to you all.”
Wait, what?
He’s not going to—?
“I’ve been keeping something secret from you for a long, long time—”
Wee-oo-wee-oo.
A police siren wails right behind me, and I turn to see the flashing blue and red lights and a short man climb out of the driver’s seat holding an actual bullhorn. His badge number says 001, next to the name, Darius.
I roll my eyes.
Of course.
The one cop in Barbazal.
How’s he going to help this situation?
Darius lifts the bullhorn to his lips.
“Jonah Macon, this is Officer Darius. I’m gonna need you to come down from there immediately.”
“I need to borrow that,” hollers Clover, marching her way back through the crowd, past me and Steph until she reaches Officer Darius.
“Hey—”
“Jonah Henry Elias Macon, you have until the count of three to get yourself down from there and start talkin’ some sense. One!”
Officer Darius snatches it back before she can continue.
“Miss Biggs, I can’t let you do that,” he says.
“You don’t understand!”
And they go back and forth like that while I look at Steph, and I’m pretty sure she’s thinking what I’m thinking. Clover is not the person to talk some sense into Jonah Macon. She’s too close to him, too involved. It’s like a therapist who’s already best friends with their client – it’s definitely not going to work. But who then?
I can’t be the one—I’m the amplifier of his trauma.
I think back to Mayor Biggs, who’s in his own horrific mental state after today. No, no, no.
Steph doesn’t know the details of the situation. She doesn’t know Jonah like I do. Like Clover does.
Clover’s voice pierces my brain, ringing out what she said crystal clearly.
Jonah Henry Elias Macon…!
Elias?
Wait, that Elias?
Is…
I rewind my brain, way, way, way back. All the way back to that first memory I saw here in Barbazal. The flashy red classic car with the whitewall tires. The million-dollar smile from Mr. Jonah Macon, a far cry from the tortured, confused man sitting atop the Barbazal Dam about to admit something to everyone he’s ever known and loved. He’s waving to his followers, his supporters, his local donors, his voters, looking effortlessly carefree, and happy.
And then there’s Elias.
Standing in front of Elias’s Shop. Hands in his pockets. Scowl on his face. Jonah’s mouth flattens ever so slightly, so slightly in fact, that I almost miss it.
No way…
“I’ve been lying to you all,” comes Jonah’s voice, breaking me from my spell. “About everything. About who I am. About what I’ve done.”
His voice is falling apart up there as he says,
“This dam isn’t making Barbazal more money.”
A series of gasps ripples through the crowd, and Steph turns to me.
“Alex, what do I do? I’m freaking out here. What if he does something crazy?” she cries. “This sounds like some kind of final statement or something. What if everything’s about to go sideways?”
“This dam is producing enough hydropower to power Barbazal, and even some of Denver. And with the money it makes selling power back to Denver, it costs the state of Colorado less in public funding.”
“What’s he saying?” asks an older gentleman from a few rows up.
“He’s saying the dam is costing us funding!” comes the voice of the woman beside him.
“Damn these city-slickers comin’ in here, damming up our river, taking our money!” another voice from deeper into the crowd calls out. “Makin’ money off our backs!”
“They’re taking away our water to pay Denver?!” cries someone else.
The whole crowd of hissing monsters growls and snarls up at him, feral and vengeful.
Goddammit, this is getting so out of hand so fast. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do…?
I reach into my back pocket and find my phone.
“What are you doing?” asks Steph, clearly losing it. “Calling Ethan?”
I shake my head, finding Elias’s Shop on Maps and click the phone number, then dial.
Ring.
Oh thank god, I’ve finally got a signal out here.
“Who?”
“Elias.”
Ring.
“What? Why?”
Jonah raises his hand, like a true politician, for silence. It doesn’t work. With each passing moment, there are more what the hell is he doing… and I can’t believe, all this time…
Ring.
“I’m sorry!” he calls out to the crowd. “From the bottom of my heart of hearts, I’m sorry. To my friends, and my family. To Clover.”
Ring.
I freeze, feeling a shock zip up my body. I find Clover in the crowd, looking pale, still as a tree, unmoving, clearly not knowing what the hell he’s thinking, telling everyone in Barbazal that they’re together.
“Let me make things right!” he pleads.
Ring.
Then, Jonah disappears over the other side of the dam.
“What the hell?!” asks Steph.
“Where is he?” asks someone in the crowd.
“What’s he doing?!” screams another.
Ring.
He re-emerges, sending a surge of chatter through the audience, which is maybe four hundred people strong now. He lifts something over his head. Looks like a long stick. A broom?
No.
It’s a sledgehammer.
Wham!
It comes down hard enough against the wall to send a loud clang through the air.
Metal on metal.
“Oh my god, Alex!” cries Steph. “He’s trying to bring down the whole dam!!”
“And if that thing comes down, he’s going with it,” I whisper, the full realization sinking in.
“Can he bring down a whole dam by himself?” she asks.
Wham! A spark sizzles out of the wall to his left, some kind of control panel.
“He doesn’t need to break down the whole dam,” I manage, my voice shaky. “He just needs to get into that control box. He’s going to overload it!”
“Does he know what happens when a dam breaks?!” Steph asks urgently, squeezing my wrist and taking a step back.
“Y’all might want to move!” he hollers as he brings down the sledgehammer again.
Wham!
I shake my head, totally unable to think. My chest feels tight, and my skin crawls with what feel like little bugs. This is way too much. All of it is just so much.
“Hello?” comes the aggravated voice on the other end of the receiver.
I’m so startled, I falter, and my leg gives out underneath me. Steph isn’t quick enough to catch me, and I fall to the ground, dropping the phone from my hands.
Searing pain rips through my leg, but I scramble to pick the phone back up.
“Alex!” cries Steph. “Are you okay?”
I don’t have time to answer her.
“Hellooo?” comes the voice on the other end.
“Hello?” I call out, wincing as I adjust into a sitting position that doesn’t send more pain coursing through my lower half. “Hello, Elias?”
“Yes, who is this?” He sounds suspicious as hell, already having forgotten my voice since we only just met the other day.
“I-I’m Alex. Steph and I visited your shop the other day?”
“Yes,” he says with a sigh. “What can I do for you?”
“I need you to get to the dam.” I say, “I can explain when you get here.”
“Now just a minute, miss,” he says, clearly affronted. “I don’t know how you do it in the city, but out here we don’t just go callin’ up folks and tellin’ ’em what to do with their time—”
“It’s about your son.”
Silence.
Wham!
I wince at the sound booming through the air. That one sounded particularly impactful.
“Somebody stop him!” cries Clover. That red aura radiating from her now fades into a violet to blend with Jonah’s, droning and heavy. I hear the jingling of chains among the clouds, but I can’t see them. There are tears streaming down Clover’s face.
And then, finally, I hear Elias’s voice through the phone.
“I don’t have a son.”
Click!
“No!” I holler, scrambling to re-dial. Please, please, please.
Ring.
Wham!
Ring.
Ring.
…Beeeeeeep.
“No,” I whisper, looking down at the phone in disbelief. I look to Steph.
“He…” I say, tears scrambling my words. “He… hung up.”
Why didn’t I just explain what was going on? Of course he has no idea this could mean his son’s life.
I send a text, although there’s no way to know if Elias’s number is textable, or if it’s a landline. Knowing Elias, it could be either.
And because of me, Jonah Macon might die, and Elias will find out he might’ve been able to save him.
Jonah is in grave danger
trying to destroy the dam.
“So, what do we do?” asks Steph, but there’s already defeat in her voice. She knows as well as I there’s nothing we can do from down here. A blue aura forms around her head, and she lowers herself from a crouch to a kneel. “Alex?” she whimpers, letting a sob escape.
My phone buzzes with a text back.
This number cannot receive text messages.
I reach for her, taking her in my arms, squeezing her tight.
A tear rolls down my cheek and disappears against Steph’s shoulder, and I shut my eyes harder and squeeze her tighter.
Wham!
“I’m out of ideas,” I say, “and Jonah’s going to die because of me.”
We all might, if I can’t stop this.
“No,” snaps Steph, pulling away and cupping my face in her hands. She leans in, presses her forehead to mine. “Jonah is a grown man making his own choices. His mental health is his responsibility. Don’t you dare take the fall for that. You did nothing wrong, Alex. You tried to help hundreds of people through a drought.”
Wham!
Every time he swings that hammer, it feels like it’s twisting a knife in my heart.
I think back to how Elias looked, staring up at Jonah as he rode through town, just wanting to make a difference.
I don’t have a son.
What could Jonah have done to warrant that kind of hatred from his own father?
I think back to how Jonah’s smile fell, even as he rode in that flashy red car and—
My eyes go wide.
I gasp.
“Steph,” I say, grabbing her gently by the shoulders. “I need my guitar.”
“But—”
“I’ll explain later, I promise. It’ll all make sense. Hurry!”
Steph pushes herself to her feet and darts for the car without further question.
I look up at Jonah, where I see…
A huge, looming blotch monster, rising up behind him, claws extended overhead, towering over him from behind with hungry teeth as he flips the switch and steps back.
BOOM!!!!
It sounds like a glacier cracking. Something rumbles through the air, a sound like a crackling bowl of cereal. The ground trembles under my feet. After looking to Steph, who looks just as confused as I am, I look back up and…
Oh my god, there’s a crack in the dam wall.
A small one, maybe five feet down from where Jonah stands. A chunk of rock the size of a loaf of bread breaks away and falls, tumbling down the side until it plunges into the dark river water below.
“He’s really gonna break the dam!” shrieks a teenage girl just a few dozen feet ahead of us.
“He thinks he’s taking on his fears,” I whisper to myself as that colossal beast behind him grows larger still, teeth dripping with purple drool as it leans even more closely over Jonah.
But this isn’t the way. As it fully sinks in that Jonah is going to bring this thing down, I do the only thing I can think to do to get everybody to safety.
“Everybody, run!” I holler.
“Get in your cars!” Steph follows.
And suddenly, from where I sit in the grass, hundreds of people turn, and run at me.
“No, no, no,” I mutter to myself, scrambling to push myself to my feet before I get trampled to death. I turn away from the crowd, raising my good leg up until my foot finds the earth.
Oof!
Someone hits me square in the shoulder, knocking me forward.
I turn to look up, but someone else’s foot swipes my chin. Pain explodes through my face, and I’m down again.
I blink my eyes open, and everything seems blurry except for a neon-purple glow zipping across the sky. All I can see, all around me as people run overhead, is fear. I do the only thing I can do: I curl up into the tiniest ball I can curl into, and I listen to the thundering footsteps around me as everyone sprints back to their cars before this whole place takes on way more water than anyone dreamed of.
Yes, Barbazal will have water, but at what cost?
When the footsteps fade in my ears, and I can hear Jonah again…
Wham!
…I look up to the top of the dam, where Jonah’s monster is still hovering. He’s taking the sledgehammer to the concrete now.
“I got you,” comes Steph’s voice. And suddenly, before me, she holds out my guitar.
I smile, finding new strength, and she helps me to my feet.
