Being out in the fog is disorienting. The way it moves through the world is hypnotizing, like watching clouds roll by, or ocean swells, or snow falling, except it doesn't make your surroundings feel more alive. It makes them feel dead, as though the fog were rot invading the carcass of Arbor Isle while you still wait here, left behind by all the life that once called this place home.
It reminds you of that time when you were little, maybe five, and you lost your mom in a shopping mall right when it was closing. The gates were already down on almost all the stores. Nobody was there anymore. You were small, and it felt like the world had ended even though you remained. You panicked and started crying, and that's when your mom found you, took you home, let you watch TV late into the night with her so you could remember the world was still there. You still had nightmares, though.
How long have you been out here? Half an hour? An hour? Two hours? What have you been doing all this time? Just staring out into this milky cloud that stretches on forever in every direction?
The phone in your hand tells you it's been a little over an hour. There are no messages from anyone. That strikes you as odd. You expected to find a string of anxious messages from Anuja at least, which is her usual way of coping when she needs to find a distraction from something frightening. Maybe even an annoyed message from Addy, declaring that this is stupid and it's time to give up.
There's just nothing.
You're partway through writing a message checking in on everyone when a call comes through to the group.
"Anuja?" you say as you lift the phone to your ear.
"You have to come get me, please," Anuja says, her voice quiet and deeply, deeply strained by fear.
"What's going on?" Diego asks once he joins the call.
Anuja tries to answer, but the noise of Addy and Kirill joining and asking the same question prevents you from hearing her answer.