More Often Than Not

Tracey wasn’t necessarily afraid of death. But whenever he fantasized about it, it wouldn’t have gone like this.

If Tracey had the choice, he’d have gone out on his own terms, like those cool heroes in the movies who had huge martyr complexes. They always died doing what was right- usually in some big explosion or taking a bullet for their love. It was… almost beautiful, dying in your own way and knowing when it was coming.

If and when he had to die, the perfect scenario would’ve been defying authority. Protecting someone from having to experience the same things he did. How, exactly, would he die from defying authority? Unknown. But it would probably be noble, fast, and relatively painless. 

Or maybe taking a bullet for someone. Of course, it depends on the person. His parents? His brother? That was most likely a lot more painful, but it’d be a spur of the moment thing. Going out protecting whom you love is the best way to go.

Just dying itself would be enough.

The spotlight would be on Tracey, and Tracey alone. Here, though? He’d be one of the thousands who’d die in a second.

It was just supposed to be a trip to Hawaii. Hawaii was nice, right? All calm and chill. Nice weather. A lot of palm trees, and maybe the people were a little too boastful about the pineapples. Volcanoes everywhere. That made Tracey hesitate to book the tickets, but hey. You’d have a chance to run, right?

Turns out that you can’t run from nature.

Tracey was the first one to notice the earthquake. Being from the Bay Area, earthquakes were common, and not much to talk about. He was so used to it that he could ignore them even if they were big enough to shake a few things around. There, it was normal. But near an active volcano? More than a few causes for concern.

Tracey notified the tour guide, but she had brushed it off.

“Earthquakes happen all the time,” The tour guide had told the group. “Don’t worry- if an eruption were to occur, we’d be able to evacuate safely.”

She was eating her words 10 minutes later.

In an absolutely messed up twist of fate, the bus that would take the tourists back from Mauna Loa hadn’t come back yet, and obviously wouldn’t come for the tourists that had signed very through waivers. They had to fend for themselves. Everyone had taken to running in opposite directions and screaming. Tracey even saw a kid nearly getting ran over by a lady that was screaming her head off. He ran to them, picked them up, grabbed their hand and just kept running next to the gravel road. 

That was the best bet- the road had to be the most efficient route. Still… the quakes kept coming. The ash kept falling. If Tracey were to live through this (which was very unlikely) he would fistfight that bus driver if it was the last thing he’d ever do.

The kid who Tracey had picked up was starting to slow down. It was a little girl, her brown hair covered in ash and her shoes were worn down to the soles. She was crying- her tears were cleaning off the dirt on her face. Why she had dirt on her face Tracey didn’t know, and did not question.

Tracey rolled his eyes as he picked up the girl and began to run faster with her in his arms. It didn’t slow him down at all- she was light, and he was fast.

The girl had taken to sobbing. She was heaving, gasping for breath in the thick smokey air. The wave was gaining. Rocks were starting to fall. They hit Tracey’s back, his skull. They made him stumble, but not stop. Never stop. He had a more than good enough reason to keep going- this girl had to live through this. For her family, wherever the hell they were.

The smoke only grew thicker. The rocks fell faster. Tracey could see the faint glow of lava in the distance. His strength was waning- he could no longer feel his legs, his arms more than sore. He was sure to collapse at any minute.

They were farther than anyone else- yet not far enough.

He looked down at the girl. She looked rested enough- maybe she could keep running without him.

“Okay-” Tracey breathed out. “You’re almost- there. Keep- going without me.” He took out his phone. He shoved it into the girl's arms. “Almost there,” he repeated.

The girl was a stuttering mess. She held his phone shakily. “But-but you-”

“I’ll be fine,” Tracey said. “Just keep going.”

The girl looked at him almost pityingly. She jumped from his arms. They ran side by side for a moment, and she bolted.

She was faster than even Tracey was. Most likely from the pure terror and adrenaline. 

Tracey kept running until she was out of earshot (not that she would’ve heard him over the roaring tremors) and collapsed to the ground. He curled up into a ball and put his knees up to his chest. Now, he was allowed to cry.

So. This was how it would end. Not with a bang, but with a roar. 

He didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Tracey knew that getting a proper goodbye was rare. More often than not people died without a chance to say a word.

If and when Tracey were to die, he wanted a moment to say thanks. Thank his parents, thank his friends, thank his brother. He was Tracey’s built-in best friend- and now the last conversation they’d ever have would be a drunken talk in the middle of the night. What they were talking about was beyond him- but Tro had an insane memory. If anyone remembered what they said drunk, he would.

What would his last memories of Tracey be? Arguing about leg warmers? Whether or not molasses was a flavor? Something stupid for sure. And his mom- God, when had they last talked?

There were so many regrets. And he’d never be able to amend them. He wouldn’t know when it was coming. He wasn’t choosing- the universe was choosing for him. 

Tracey had no more tears. Numbness set in- it was time. And there would be no rewinds.

He closed his eyes, and let the heat claim him.