CHAPTER 12

I stare at my cold food in disgust as I move it around on the plate. I haven’t eaten anything but jerky and soup in days. I should be starving, but the lump congealing in my gut won’t allow me to eat another bite. Meatloaf. Mashed potatoes. Corn, for Christ’s sake. A meal fit for a king, but I can’t eat it.

Sighing to myself, I push the plate away. My fork rattles as it falls on the tabletop, and Gordo stops shoveling food in his piehole long enough to arch a brow at me. I ignore his silent question, letting my gaze wander round the mess hall. Despite the loss and pain we all suffered, there’s a bit of a celebratory feel in the air. Our people are reunited. Some didn’t make it, no, but we managed to bring back so many we thought were lost to us. But still. What a fucked-up world we live in. Happy to be getting some of your people back alive. Like that’s considered a victory.

Ever since our meeting with Kip earlier today, I feel out of it. Luke’s unexpected bomb of us leaving in the morning is partly the cause. I know he’s right, and we need to move as soon as possible, but we just got here. At least give us a couple of days to recuperate.

Seeing the survivors is the other reason. I’m not that fucking messed up. I’m happy the ones here made it. But seeing their faces only reiterates the fact that so many others aren’t. Since leaving that shitshow behind at the Grand, I’ve been focused on only one thing: finding my people and exacting revenge on Gunner. I was denied the revenge because Gunner wasn’t there. Maybe that lack of fulfillment is the cause of this damn edginess and anxiety. Something has me riled up and feeling like I want to bite someone’s head off and shit down their neck.

I hate this feeling. My heart beating out of my chest. My stomach in knots. My head hates the sounds of the room— the laughter and chatter. I want to scream. I want to yell. I want to lash out as my gaze bounces around and finds no Liv, or Coop, or Kingsley. We failed them. Hell, we couldn’t even keep fucking Morley alive after all he did for us. My perusal stops on the faces of unit four. My crew. My good as dead crew.

My heart elevates into overdrive at the nasty words in my head, and a flash of dread washes over me, covering me in a cold sweat.

“You okay, pal?” Gordo finally stops chewing long enough to check on me. Do I look as bad as I feel?

“Fine,” I mumble. Leaping up from the table, I make a beeline for the door, ignoring the startled looks of my crew. I just need to get out of here.

The frigid night air feels wonderful on my flushed face. I don’t know where I’m headed. Anywhere but here. Hurrying, I brush by people on their way into the mess hall, banging rudely into them. I don’t bother with apologies. I move faster and by the time I’m out of range of the light spilling from the mess hall, I’m jogging.

The shadowy fields empty of their fall harvest, beckon to me. Soothing me as I get swallowed up by the night. The pounding of my feet against the frozen ground competes with the blood pounding in my ears. I’m grateful it blocks out the sounds of the camp. The laughter and talking. The normalcy. There’s nothing normal about the way I feel.

Finally pulling to a stop under a large pine tree, I bend over, leaning against the rough bark for support, and try to catch my breath. Each gasp I take mists in front of my face as I tilt my head and stare up at the star filled sky, wanting to lose myself in its expanse. It doesn’t work. The sky presses in on me, cutting off my air. I suck in deep, attempting to breathe as I whirl around, but it feels like I’m fucking drowning.

“Argh!”

The scream rips from my throat. I can’t stop it. Slamming my hand again and again against the rough bark, I try to burn up my frustration. It only seems to add to it. The jagged trunk rips against my palm and my hand becomes slippery with blood. The pain hits me, and I stop with the attack, sinking to my knees. I hold my bleeding hand to my chest, the wails pouring out of me. Tears stream down my cheeks.

This is it. I’ve fucking lost my mind.

A quiet, “Bix,” emerges from the shadows behind me, but I don’t bother to turn around. I know who it is. I wipe at my face with my elbow, squeeze my hand tight to stop the blood. Swallowing my sobs, I lock them inside, even though it feels like my chest is going to burst apart from the effort.

“Go away, Sam,” I finally manage to throw over my shoulder. I don’t want him to see me going off the deep end. I don’t want any of them to see me. This crazy party is by invite only.

He ignores my command. Instead, he settles beside me on the frost tipped grass, pulling his knees up to his chest, his hands hanging loose between his legs. His face is hidden in shadow, so I can’t see his eyes, but I feel his stare burning my skin.

“It’s okay to lose your shit every now and again. You lost some of the most important people in your life, and you’ve been holding that loss in. Denying its existence. You need to grieve, Bix. You need to talk about it and let it out.”

I bite back the urge to scream at him to fuck off and leave me alone. I don’t want to talk about it. But I breathe deep, my shoulders quivering with the effort.

“Do the others think I’ve lost my shit, too?”

His quiet laugh echoes above our heads. “The others think you lost your shit a long time ago. Still doesn’t stop them from worrying about you. The minute you ran, Moose was up on his feet and ready to give chase. I told him to back off since this was my field of expertise. He didn’t like it, but he conceded.” Sam pauses. His next words hold a tinge of sadness. “I think he really loves you.”

His words tear at my heart. I wipe the fresh tears away with my sleeve again. “Maybe he did once. Not anymore. There’s only so much rejection and so many lies love can forgive.”

“Nah. Love gives you blinders to the faults of those you care about.”

A tiny smile lifts the corner of my mouth. “Funny. Luke said almost the same thing to me about you.”

“Hmph. Maybe he’s not as big and stupid as he looks.”

I snort, the laugh catching in my throat. The laughter twists into a sob. “I miss them so much. Coop and Liv were my family. I hate that they’re gone. I hate that I feel it’s my fault. I hate this whole fucking messed up world.”

“I know, kid. Me too.” Sam leans over and pulls me against his chest as sobs rack my whole body. Wrapping his arms around me, he holds me, murmuring platitudes against the top of my head as my grief flows out. We stay that way for a while, his heat keeping me warm against the frigid air, even as the tears leave an icy trail down my cheeks.

Finally, my cries taper off to an occasional hiccup. We sit in silence for a moment, his arm still around me, letting the quiet calm me down.

“Do you think the docs can help us with this…” My voice is raspy as I search for the right word. “Shit storm?”

I feel him shrug against the cheek pressed into his chest. “There’s so many pieces of crap floating around I’m not sure which shit storm you’re referring to. You talking about Amy’s connection to the QL’s? Is it my foray into the mind of the major villain of this story? The worry about what happened to the others that were brought here with me? Or the fact that we have a target on our backs and will most likely get torn limb from limb five minutes after we leave this farm? You’ll have to be more specific.”

I slap my hand against his chest in a feeble attempt to shut him up. “You know, if you came here to talk me into feeling better, you’re not helping.”

His sigh tickles against the top of my head. “I know. I never was good at this touchy-feely stuff. With Ames, all I had to do was play that stupid dragon movie she loved so much to cheer her up. Can’t even remember what it’s called.”

“DragonHeart,” I mumble into his jacket.

“Yeah, that’s it. Lord, I must have seen that a thousand times. Worked like a charm, though. Every time.”

If only it were that simple, watch a movie to take away our pain.

“Were you telling the truth when you said the link controlling you was severed? Or did you just say that to shut Dom up?”

“If I’d just wanted to shut that dick up, I woulda popped him a knuckle sandwich.” He chuckles quietly at his own words. “No, I was telling the truth. Something happened in the subway. I knew those queen leeches were there. I could hear their buzzing in my head. I could feel their excitement at finding fresh prey.” I shudder at his choice of words, but he continues, “I felt its hatred for you as it held you by the neck. It would have killed you, Bix. No doubt. I couldn’t stand by and let that happen. Not again. Even as they were screaming in my head, another part of me was able to ignore them enough to get to the gun. To take them down before they could hurt any of you. The minute they died I felt the most excruciating pain… I thought my head was going to explode. Literally. It felt like I was dying, too, like my mind was being ripped apart by a thousand tiny blades. I guess the pain was too much since I blacked out. When I came to, I knew it was different. I felt different. Clearer. More myself.”

I tilt my head, so I can look up at him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Maybe because Dom was pointing a fucking rifle at me like he wanted nothing more than to blow me apart while you were standing over me like some warrior princess? Not quite the right time. Then Amy stepped in with her declaration and, well, things kind of got off track. It wasn’t the right time to say anything.”

Yeah, I get that. Never seems to be the right time for anything anymore.

“Do you think you’re totally free from their control?”

He tenses under my touch, and I know I’m not going to like his answer. “No. I lied to Dom about that.”

As much as that confession spooks me, I can’t begrudge him the lie. Dom and some of the others were ready to throw him out of the truck.

“I can resist them, but the connection is still very real. My hallucinations of the big bad proves that. We’re still connected on some level.”

“When did the images start?”

“Right after the subway. Just when I was beginning to believe I’d ripped them out of my head, those started. I didn’t want to believe it at first. I was hoping it was just my fried brain messing with me. But the images are real. It’s all real. That death squad back there proved it.”

“Luke needs to know. You have to tell him what you just told me.”

“I know. And I will at the research lab. I just need to know first why Amy is involved. I can handle those bastards being in my head, but I don’t want her having any damn connection to them. Why does she hear words when we don’t? It doesn’t make a bit of sense.”

None of this makes any fucking sense, but I don’t say that. I don’t even want to think about it. I don’t want to deal with what tomorrow may bring. I don’t want to face any more suspicion about Sam. I don’t want to worry about Amy. I don’t want to grieve for any more of our people. I’m drained and exhausted. I just want to close my eyes and sleep.

“I don’t want to bunk with everyone tonight. I can’t face them. Any of them. I just want to be alone… with you. Just as friends,” I add the last part quickly. I don’t want him to misconstrue what I said, but Sam truly is my oldest friend. He’s been with me since the beginning. Tonight, I need that friend.

Sam nods. He understands. He always did. “Yeah, I get that. Stay here. Give me a few minutes to make sure Ames is settled for the night. I’ll grab us a couple of sleeping bags and we’ll find an obscure corner to sulk in together.”

He releases me and stands up. I reach out for his hand before he moves away. He looks down at me.

“Thank you, Sam.”

“For what?”

“For understanding and being here for me.”

He squeezes my fingers tight. “Always, Red.”