Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
“We just have to be here,” Gretchen says solemnly, her face gone pale and drawn. “When he comes out, he has to know we’ve got his back.”
Over the next fifteen minutes, more things shatter. Aang’s cries go from wretched to angry and back again. All the while, we wait, huddled together outside his door. The heartbreak in him is enough to make my eyes water, my soul ache.
Another long span of yelling and destruction, and then he goes quiet. So quiet that I start to worry even more. Would he harm himself?
Evie knocks gently at his door. “Aang, please let us in.”
I hear a sob and then Aang’s voice. “Idrine. Idrine. Please, no. Idrine.”
“Baby please, just open up. Please.” Evie sinks down and presses her hands to the door. “Please let us in.”
“I want to die!” he screams, the last word ending on a long wail.
“No.” Evie speaks forcefully through the door. “No, Aang. We need you. I need you.”
“Hey.” Wyatt trudges down the hall. “What’s going on? I came out of the HCL, and no one was—”
Another wail from Aang’s room.
Wyatt stops. “What is it?”
“Idrine,” Gretchen says and shakes her head.
“Shit.” Wyatt runs a hand through his hair. “Plague?”
“We don’t know, but we don’t think so. It happened at the camp.”
“Double shit.” He walks up to the door and in his most affable tone he says, “Hey, buddy. How about you let us in?”
“Go away!”
“You know I can’t do that, man.” Wyatt drops to his haunches. “We’re a team. The fucking Scooby Gang.”
“I told him not to go. I told him …” Aang’s voice drops into sobs again.
“Aang, please, just open the door, okay?” Evie calls. “Let us in.”
“Leave me alone!” His voice breaks. “I never should’ve left him. I never …”
“Should we try to break it down?” Gretchen asks.
“No. He wants space, so we give him space.” Wyatt looks around at us. “Let me take this one.”
“What?”
“I’ll stay here. You three go. I think it’ll be easier for him to let one person in rather than all of us.”
“We can’t leave.” Evie swipes at her teary cheeks.
“All of us right now will just overwhelm him. Let me stay.” He sits and leans against the wall beside the door. “He might open up if it’s just me. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’m pretty chill when shit hits the fan.”
I realize he’s right, but I still don’t want to go. Not when Aang is hurting so badly.
“You sure?” Evie asks.
“Yeah, just trust me.”
“Okay.” Evie sniffles, her bottom lip trembling.
“Come on.” Gretchen sounds defeated, her head down as she wheels toward the elevator. “We’ll be downstairs.”
“I’ll let you know.” Wyatt closes his eyes and starts humming a song. Low at first, it rises until he’s singing softly, his voice mellow and rich, soothing. I’ve never heard it before.
Evie bursts into tears in the elevator, and I hold her as we exit back into the atrium. Her cries echo on the cold marble floors, all the rugs and most of the furniture removed by the Army, plenty of bloodstains still remaining.
“What can we do?” she asks through hiccupping breaths.
“Nothing.” Gretchen leans forward, cradling her head in her hands. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”
26
We don’t see Wyatt or Aang for the rest of the day. Instead, we sit downstairs, listless and unfocused. Gene shows up with lunch, but after he hears the news, he sits with us, a stark expression on his face.
When night falls, I return to my room, my head and heart aching. After only a few minutes of deliberation, I put my lamp in my window. Gage told me he’d come if he ever saw it, and right now I need to talk to him, to find out some answers for me and for Aang.
Sinking onto my sofa, I rub at my puffy eyes, my thoughts drifting down a few floors to Aang’s room. Has Wyatt gotten to him yet? I hope so. No one should be alone during something like this. His agony disturbs the deep well of grief I still have for Candice, but I don’t give myself the luxury of falling apart. Not now.
“Where do you go when you aren’t here?” I ask it somewhat absentmindedly when I hear Valen in the hallway.
“Thither and yon.” He strides in and takes one look at me, then sinks to his knees and takes my hands in his.
“The shit you say is so ancient.” I’m tired of the games. Or maybe I’m just tired. “And that’s not an answer. You never answer.”
“I know.” He kisses each of my palms, which is when I notice a gash along the side of his head, close to his hairline.
“Fighting again?”
“I won.” He shrugs one shoulder. “What’s happened here?” he asks, his gaze taking me in. “Something bad, I take it?”
“Aang’s partner, Idrine.” I refuse to choke up. “He’s dead. He went into one of the blood camps, and now he’s dead.”