had orange hair, bright as flames, and stereotypical emerald eyes. She was speaking, her sentence
cut up into bits and pieces by the ongoing static. “I-Is this--” I briefly heard as her heart shaped
face began to become more and more clear. “Is this godda--” I leaned in closer, brows furrowed.
“Jamie, I don’t think this thing is even working!” The girl’s voice echoed through the room
she was crouching in. A room, or some type of cave. All I knew that it was very dark where she
was, and very empty. Soft rumbles of what sounded like rocks rolling down a slope would cause
her to snap her head back, startled, as if she were expecting something to fall straight from the
ceiling and crush her flat. “Jamie, I’m serious! How are we supposed to... oh. Oh! Wait a second!”
She continued to slap the camera with the palm of her hand. Historians, I immediately thought.
“Jamie, I think I’ve got it!”
“Oh, finally!” Another voice called out. A man’s this time.
I then heard heavy footsteps. The ginger waited anxiously for the man to approach her. The
camera was snatched from her grip, revealing yet another stranger. He had dark hair, contrasting
from the neon waterfall of the girl’s. I could tell he had some type of Asian ancestry. Would it be
wrong, though, to immediately expect that he was Mongolian? Either way, it didn’t really matter.
His breath was rapid. He looked just as frightened as the previous girl did.
“Listen, and listen up good, cause we don’t have much time--” He stopped mid-sentence,
choking on his own words. Was this some type of school project that these kids filmed? Maybe
some type of video blog, or--
“This is not just some regular footage.”
Never mind, then.
My other hand lingered in the air, ready to shut the camera with a single clamp. Whatever
this was, it was obviously not meant for a complete stranger. “Don’t turn off this camera,” he
continued to say, as if on cue. “don’t chuck it away. Don’t leave it anywhere. Just... don’t freak out,
okay? We don’t have a lot of time. So just. Listen.
“My name is Jamie Zaya. That red head you just saw? She’s Joanna Reynolds. You might want
to disregard her when she interrupts me.”
“Hey!”
“And, uh... I suppose it’s safe to say that you picking up this camera is not some type of odd
coincidence. This footage is in your hands for a reason. You’re chosen, so to say, like how Ash was
chosen to be the world’s greatest Poke--”
“Oh my goodness, Jamie!” That girl -Joanna- snatched the camera back, ignoring her friend’s
protests. “He’s right. You are chosen to spread our legacy, because there’s so much you Surfacers
don’t know, and we’re not quite sure how long this place is going to last.” Joanna said, her face
grim. With her voice trembling and cracking, she continued on. “We may not even be able to get
out of here today. I mean, if this escape plan fails. Highly unlikely, though.” She waved the matter
off. “So it’s up to you. Quite literally.”
A child’s scream, followed by hoarse yelling from a man echoed in the background. Many
voices pitched in afterwards, barely audible enough for me to make out what they were saying.
I didn’t realize that I was staring at the small LED screen, my mouth gaping and heart pumping.
What is this?
The two youngsters turned at the same time, taking nervous glances at each other. The
rumbling continued, louder this time. Joanna was the first one to recover, taking an unsteady
breath before speaking once more. “Look, you have to head to Ekhiingol, an oasis near the South
