Luke screams, “Ky! Hold on!”
Marc whips around, swinging back in my direction. “Stop,” I shout. “These bars are unpredictable!” We’ll both be in my place if he grabs a weak bar like I did. “I can get myself out of this,” I assure them. Though I’m not sure.
My shoulders sting, and the burn is too much to keep holding on.
“I’m coming for you, Ky,” he says.
The bar’s shaking, the other end ready to give at any moment.
I yank myself up like climbing a rope, gritting my teeth as I work against the pain. I reach for the next bar, screaming out in irritation as I realize I can’t reach it. I grunt, relaxing my shoulder, getting so tired of hanging. I’ll need to throw myself to the next bar, but what if it’s weak too?
We don’t live off what if, Ky. I hear Luke tell me. If you get the chance, take it.
With all my might, I yank myself upward as hard as I can and throw my weight to the bar above me. I catch it with the tip of my fingers crooked around the bar.
It breaks.
I’m plummeting. It’s the fall that’ll kill me, and hopefully, I hit the ground hard enough to avoid being eaten to death by the Zombies. Closing my eyes, I accept my fate.
I jerk. Something snatches my forearm, yanking my arm out of its socket. I cry through my teeth.
“I got you, Ky,” Marc says, voice strained. I squint my eyes. He’s hanging on to a bar with one hand, the other saving my life. “I got you…”
I look down, feeling his arm shaking, likely either from the bar or me being too heavy for him to hold.
“Grab hold of me, Ky.”
I try to move my fingers, but the movement sends pain striking through my back. Turning my attention back to Marc, I look past him, to the bar in his loosening grasp. It’s definitely shaking, ready to give at any second.
I shake my head. We’re both not going to make it.
“Don’t do that, Ky. I can get you, just try to grab hold of me.”
Again, I shake my head, accepting my time is up. “It’s okay, Marc. You can let me go. I’m not afraid. Let me go before the bar breaks, and we both fall. I’m not scared.” I meet his eyes, reassuring him with a look of confidence. But he looks back at me, fear and worry causing his eyes to shake and his chin to tremble. An expression I’d resent if anyone else wore it.
“I am, Ky. Please grab hold. I can’t let you go.” His grip tightens on me as I slowly slip from his grasp. “I am scared, Kylie. I won’t let you go. Please?” he begs, despair in his voice and shadowed orchid eyes.
I look away from him as my breath catches and my legs dangle in the wind. My heart fires up, pounding loudly in my ears, and over it, Luke’s begging me to hold on. His shouts echo loudly.
Another gust of wind smacks into my dangling body, forcing me to slip through Marc’s grip. I try to hold on with everything I have, our nails scraping our palms as we dig for a grip. We catch each other by crooked fingers, our blood making it hard to keep holding on.
“Thank you,” he mouths, looking out to nothing before he looks back down at me. “I got you.” He carefully tugs me upward, grunting as he supports my weight with one arm. When I reach his waist, he says, “Wrap your arm around my legs.” I do as he asks, releasing his hand, and he grips me between his legs, holding me in place. He shakes his hand out before swinging to a new bar. “Alright, Ky. Get up here.”
I tug myself up his body, gripping his belt and vest, as he keeps his legs tightly wrapped around me. When I make it, I wrap my good arm around his neck and wind my legs around his waist. “Thanks,” I say in his ear.
He exhales a relieved breath and makes it across the remaining distance of the broken bridge. We make it to the edge of the cliff, and Luke, Sean, and Collins pull us up onto firm ground. While still in Marc’s arms, he whispers, “You are heavy, girl. And never tell me you can’t save yourself for me. I need you, okay?” before I’m ripped from his grasp.
Luke hugs me for a split second before shoving me. I stumble as I’m holding him back from another attack and clutching my dislocated arm. “What the hell, Kylie! You didn’t want to save yourself?” he shouts at the top of his lungs. Voice drenched in unnecessary anger, he blusters on about how I shouldn’t have hesitated.
I heave a lungful of air so I can throw a few choice words at him, but Marc comes up behind me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “It’s okay, Luke. I got her. You’re good.” His heavy rasp and the lightness of his reassurance settles Luke’s anxiety.
I shuffle from Marc’s hold and cross the ground to Luke. Throwing my arm around his neck, I say, “I’m sorry, Luke.”
“That was not okay, Ky.” He breaks away from me, snatches his helmet off the ground, and shoves it down on his head.
I snatch his arm. “Hey! Don’t turn your back on me. I mean it. I’m sorry.” I force another hug. “I realize it was a bad move, but I am okay.” My arm is busted, but I’m alive.
Luke returns my hug, head falling onto my good shoulder. I return his hug with my good arm and lay my head next to his. “You don’t just give up,” he tells me in our small huddle.
“At the time, it seemed better to lose one than two.”
“If we had to return without the two of you, it would have been four. It was better for you to try than for you to want to fall.”
“You are right, Luke.” I don’t want to argue. “I might’ve scared you. And I’m sorry for forcing you to experience that emotion.”
“You did,” he admits. “And that is not a feeling I’m used to or ever want to experience again.”
“I agree,” I say, leaning back. “Would you mind popping my shoulder back in place? That catch was rough.”
I brace myself when he grabs my shoulder and arm, and without warning yanks it back in place. The crack is loud. I drop to my knees from the pain. “Thanks,” I grunt.
“Want me to heal your hand?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I’ll clean it, and I’ll be fine.” These are scars I want to keep.
Once I’m on my feet, Cory comes to my side, throws his arm around me, quickly hugs me to him, and mutters, “Glad you’re okay,” before heading to the Humvee.
As we head for the Humvee, I look back at Marc talking to Sean, calming him down. Sean’s not going to be happy that Marc, once again, risked his life to save mine, but though I originally denied his help, I’m grateful he offered it.
Chapter Twenty-One
“The bridge broke,” Luke calmly informs the general.
Sean scoffs. “That bridge didn’t just break. It busted. It was poorly structured.”
“How?” Jord’s eyes bug out of his head, and his voice booms even louder than usual.
“We can’t be sure,” Luke answers, glowering at Cory and Collins. He relaxes the muscles in his face before Jord catches him. “It wasn’t sturdy. Ky and Marc almost went over, but they made it back safely.” He gestures to Marc at his left and me on his right. “The other bridge is fine, and the labs are clear, but the Zombies have crowded the hole again.”
“So soon...?” Jord murmurs contemplatively. He flicks a curious gaze to Marc and me. “You two were trying to be the walking dead’s dinner?”
“More accurately, I think someone was trying to feed us to them.” I throw an infuriated glance at Cory.
Jord sits back down and crosses his arms. “I’ll make a call to inform the engineering team the bridge needs repairs. Head in. The storm will be here soon.”
“Yes, sir,” we say.
We march home and gather in the den. Cory and Hanley have no reason to be here, and they should’ve gone home with the weather that’s rolling in.
“Why did you two try to kill Marc and Ky, Collins?”
Collins shoves Sean. “We did not try to kill them. It was an accident. Who knew the bridge wasn’t sturdy?”
Fein comes in and sits next to Sean. She leans over to whisper something that puts a smile on his face, but when he catches me noticing, he qu
ickly erases it. “Why are all of you gathered in the den?” Fein asks.
“Ky and Marc almost died today,” Sean tells her.
“We were fine, Fein. The bridge just collapsed, but Marc saved us, and we made it.”
“Woo! Go Marc!” She puts her hand out to high five him, and he meets her.
“Shouldn’t you be heading to your own corridors, Cory,” Luke unkindly suggests.
Cory stands. “Is there something you’d like to say to me, Luke?”
I jump to my feet at the same time as Luke. “There’s a lot I’d like to say to you, but I doubt you’d want me to say it in front of all of them.” Luke gestures out to everyone. Nodding, he adds, “But I could.”
Cory eyeballs him, turning up his nose. “Watch your back, Luke. You aren’t the only one who knows things.”
I step to Luke’s side. “Watch your back, Cory. You’re right. He’s not the only one who knows things. And if I were you, I would find the door before my fist finds your nose.”
“Don’t threaten my brother, Kylie.” Hanley takes her brother’s side.
Luke loosely wraps his arm around my neck. Laughing, he says, “Let them go, Ky. Cory knows he and his sister are no match for us. Isn’t that right, Cory?”
“Fuck you, Luke.”
“Ooo,” Luke sings, shaking his shoulders, “feisty.” He fakes a shiver. “Get out, Cory, before my sister cracks another tooth.” Cory looks back and forth from Luke and me, Hanley at his side doing the same. “Goodbye, snake,” Luke says hard with disgust.
“Watch your mouth, Luke.”
“Watch yours. Hurry and go, so you can help them weed out the implants in our sector. Isn’t that your job now?”
A heavy hush falls over the room, I can practically hear eyelids stretching over bugged-out eyeballs.
Cory’s eyes widen as they quickly shift around the room. His sister whispers in his ear before pulling him away.
I turn to Luke after the front door closes and punch him lightly on his chest. “You know how to hit him where it hurts.”
“He’s a snake. No one cares where they hurt.”
Chuckling, I leave the den, heading for my room so I can change for a shower. Footsteps follow behind me, and when I open the door to my room, I turn around. “Thank you for saving me.”
“No problem.”
I back into my room. “You could have let me fall and got what you want.”
Marc shuts the door behind him. “My wants don’t matter.”
“They do if you want me.”
“You scared me today. I’ve never felt anything like that before. And it’s making me uncomfortable to admit it.”
“I saw it in your eyes.” I shake my head. “I don’t want to die. Not like that. I can go in battle, getting shot down, something with pride, something that shows strength. Not plummeting to my death in a hole full of Zombies.”
Tugging me to his front, he cuffs my cheek with one hand as the other grips my waist. “You made me realize something today.”
“What was that?”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
“Then let me stay with you.”
He nods and kisses me before leaving.
I lie across my bed, feeling light, like I did the first time Marc kissed me in the alley, and I walked on mattresses instead of concrete.
Someone knocks on my door. “It’s Fein, Ky. Can I talk to you?”
“Yes,” I say, sitting up.
She comes in, closing the door behind her. Dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, her arms hang loosely at her sides, and her orange gaze reminds me of the rising sun. She blinks. “Cory is weeding out the implants?”
“That’s why I warned you. Don’t trust him.”
She sits beside me. “But he’s no different from us.”
I play shocked, asking, “Can you be trusted?”
She looks away from me, brows knit as it seems a thought crosses her mind. “I guess I can’t be. I’m as bad as him, but I don’t throw people under the bus.”
“That means you’re not a snake, but you are still a traitor. How do you know what those aliens say to you is true anyway?” Here is my chance to try to turn her against them.
“I was born knowing. They’re all I know.”
“But are they? You were raised with us, lived with us, fought with us, we are what you know. More than them. You’ve spent your entire life with us, Fein. And not to mention, they didn’t look happy with you. Family doesn’t treat you like that.” I honestly can’t comment on the family topic with my past, but Luke has shown me enough to know family shouldn’t hurt us.
“Are you trying to turn me against them?”
Insulted, I state, “What Creation wouldn’t, knowing what I do about you? They sent these Zombies here as a threat! A threat against us makes them an enemy. I don’t see how you can choose them over us, when we’ve been there for you forever. You said you were born knowing them, but how much time did you actually spend with them versus the time you spent with us Creations? Who and what we are was instilled in us when we were born. We go against what goes against us. Not help it. They sounded like they wanted to go against us. If they go against us, they will be going against you too, Fein.” I throw up my hands, done with the conversation. “Just remember how you were trained, what you have seen, and what we are. Would you prefer to be on their side or ours?” I stand from the bed and take off my vest, knives, and boots. “I’m going to shower. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She leaves without a word. Maybe I got to her.
Back home, before she died, this old lady used to tell me, “All you have to do is plant the seed, just provide the idea. It will manifest on its own, but as long as you plant the seed, that thought is within them.” I planted the seed, and the thought is manifesting. That’s what counts.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I dream of Marc kissing his lips. My lips press against smooth skin instead of soft lips. I open my eyes to Luke’s arm. “Eww!” How…disgusting!
I move my head out of his arm and scoot out of his bed. With my thoughts and this seductive feeling of Marc on me, I cannot lie here next to my brother. It’s too weird.
I quietly pull Luke’s door open, catching Collins sneaking out of Marc’s room. What is she doing coming out of there at this time of night? What is she doing coming out of there, period?
She descends the stairs, perkily bouncing on her toes. My throat’s closing around a breath. It sends a burning feeling coursing up to my cheeks and down to my stomach. I clench my teeth, waiting on the feeling to pass. When it does, I gently pull open Luke’s door and try my hardest not to stomp across the hall, but my steps sound.
I try my damnedest not to swing open Marc’s door, but it whines open and knocks off the wall. I try—very hard—not to slam it behind me, but it closes loudly.
Marc’s on his feet, standing near the bed, shirtless. “Ky,” he says.
I whip around, hiding my watery eyes. I swallow hard, hoping to remove the rock that landed in my throat, but it doesn’t budge. This is a bad place to be and a worse way to feel. I bite down on my lip, but it’s not enough to suppress these stupid feelings. It’s not nearly enough to stop me from crying.
He pulls my arm, turning me around. I yank away from him. “It just looks bad,” he says, grabbing me again.
“Why was she in your room?” I snarl through my teeth, trying to control my weakness and keep it from displaying through the falling of my tears or the shaking of my voice.
“She came and left, I did nothing with her, Ky.” He wipes my face. “I’d never want to. I wouldn’t.”
I shove him away from me. “Then why don’t you have any clothes on, Marc?”
“It’s late, Kylie. What do you expect for me to sleep in? A sweatshirt and jeans? I only wear a shirt when you’re in here, so you’re not uncomfortable.”
I turn back to face the door, allowing the burning tears to fall in private. Releasing it makes it hurt less. I
even out my breaths so I don’t huff or puff. I want to slam my fist against the door, but it will be too loud. Keeping my words even, I state, “She left too happy to have been rejected. And any time I come by, you’re always dressed.”
“Well she was, Ky. It’s late. After a certain hour, if you don’t come, this is how I sleep.”
I wipe my face even though I don’t have any intentions on turning back to him. “It’s fine, Marc. I’m wrong to overreact.” Walk away, Kylie.
Someone knocks on his door softly. I scrape the tears from my face before whipping it open. “What?” I snap in a whisper.
Collins jumps back. Her robe is clutched so tightly in her hand it protrudes through the cracks of her fingers. Its tie hangs from her other hand. Her bare feet scrape the floor as she recoils. “Nothing,” she mumbles, turning, headed back down the hall toward the stairs.
I face Marc, biting my tongue. Literally. I press my teeth down into my tongue, drawing pain to keep me silent. Anger dries the tears I regret letting fall. I turn around and head out of his room. I pull the door closed behind me, and he pulls it back open.
His hand wraps around my arm, tugging me back. I stumble backward, trying to free my arm from him.
“Kylie,” he demands as the door closes in front of me. His chest presses against my back as his tight grip holds me in place by the crook of my arms. “She showed up like you do some nights, without knocking or saying anything. She climbed in my bed, and I was half sleep, briefly thinking she was you until she touched me. The second I acknowledged it was her and not you, I told her to leave. She was probably coming back to convince me, but how many times do I have to tell you I only give myself to you.” He pushes his arms around my waist and hugs my middle. Kissing my neck, he adds, “Only you get this.”
I huff. “I don’t like that.”
“Jealousy burns, doesn’t it?” He moves us toward his bed. “You’ve got nothing to be jealous about. Believe me.”
The Separation Trilogy Box Set: Books 1 -3 Page 47
