Derek whirls around at the sound, and the red of his eyes are the only bright spots in the otherwise gray landscape. It's like the saturation has been turned down on everything, and the stench of ash is making Derek want to throw up. He hates the smell of charred wood and ash because it always invokes this sense memory of him puking his guts up outside their burning home, and the way his family's charred flesh smelled in the air.

"Neil," he says gratefully, clutching Neil's shoulder and then looking around. "Wait, where's Bitty?"

He lets out a growl and looks around, calling Bitty's name. The ash is dulling his sense of smell, and his fingers dig into Neil's shoulder. "What the fuck is this?"