by Melissa Haag
I couldn’t feel Ethan’s pain.
I breathed again, pulling harder, tasting Emmitt’s steely resolve that no one touch Michelle. Jim’s boiling anger that one of the monsters had tried for his mother. Charlene’s absolute love for her boys and Thomas.
Something dripped from my nose. A bit of blood. I wiped it away along with the tears still flowing freely.
“Stop, Z. Don’t take my pain.” He pulled in a shallow breath. “It’ll keep me here just a little longer.”
My breath hitched on a sob. I hadn’t taken any of his pain. It was already gone. I knew what that meant.
“I can’t do this without you,” I choked out. “Please. You just have to wait.” For what, I didn’t know. There were no sirens rushing toward us, no doctors running to stanch the blood flowing from the hole in his stomach.
Ethan’s gaze shifted away from me, finally drawing my attention to Carlos. The man moved around us in a blur of speed as he kept away those who Bethi and Luke couldn’t.
“When I’m gone,” Ethan said, his raspy voice barely above a whisper, “fight her. Don’t let her keep the pain in; it’ll kill her. Keep her safe for me. Promise.”
Carlos and I spoke at the same time.
“I swear.”
“No. You fight me. Stay, Ethan.”
Ethan kept his attention on Carlos.
“She’ll need you and hate you for it.”
His fingers lightly tugged my hair, and he met my gaze again.
“I’ll love you even after I’m gone. Remember, without you, I would have died years ago. Thank you for saving me.”
He coughed, and I waited for him to breathe again but he didn’t.
“No.” My denial echoed over the growls and Bethi’s cursing.
I reached forward.
“Ethan?” Nothing.
Devastation emptied me. Then rage filled me.
“No!” I screamed. And as I screamed, I pulled. I tried to find a wisp of Ethan. I wanted to inhale him and keep at least that part of him inside me forever. But there was nothing. He was gone.
Fury took me.
I yelled my anguish and pulled.
My nose started to bleed harder. Still, I pulled more.
I stood as those around me started to stumble.
“Run!” someone yelled.
Distantly, I was aware of Carlos moving away from me. He left me surrounded by an enemy that had lost its crazed determination. I reveled in the fear and pulled harder. The brutes fell to their knees.
I saw Carlos pick up Gabby and Bethi. He tossed one over each shoulder and ran with them. Their men staggered behind them, struggling to follow. Grey had Charlene in his arms and naked Winifred had Michelle. They all fought to move away from me.
One of the beasts before me weakly swiped at my legs. I looked down at him.
“He was mine.” My voice broke on the last word.
I clenched my fists at my sides and pulled hard, harder than ever before.
I would kill them all for taking from me the only thing I’d ever wanted in life. My friend. The only one to stand by me. I screamed Ethan’s name and pulled again.
Vaguely, I felt my skin split and blood trickle down my arms, but didn’t stop. The anguish of Ethan’s death consumed me and the lingering feel of the wolf’s hand inside my stomach blinded me to the world around me.
Something hit the back of my head. It wasn’t a blow; it was an annoying slap.
I spun out with a kick and almost caught Carlos in the head. He blocked just in time. I flew through moves. My blood sprayed him. Faster and faster, I tried to kill the man before me. Pain filled me, inside and out.
“He was mine,” I yelled at Carlos. “I was supposed to keep him alive.”
I hit harder and kept pulling. But there was nothing to pull. Angry, I kept attacking Carlos. A few times something on the ground almost tripped me.
Then, suddenly, I was empty. I fell to my knees. The pain of all my cuts and bruises were nothing compared to the hollow ache that existed inside of me. I was nothing without Ethan. I turned and saw him lying where I’d left him. I crawled to him and laid my head on his chest.
“Since I first saw you in the play yard, you were my friend. I loved you too much...but not enough. I should have let you go.”
I let the pain take me away.
* * * *
Everything hurt. Especially the drag of a wet cloth over my arms.
“Ow,” I said without opening my eyes. The word was thick and slurred. “I think Brick hit me too hard.”
“Not Brick.”
The voice wasn’t familiar at first. Then, everything came crashing back. I moaned and pulled my arm from Carlos’ grasp. A sob escaped me.
“Ethan...oh, God, why?”
An anguished cry filled the room, and I realized it was me. Ethan. Ethan was gone. I started to fall apart all over again. A hand settled on my head.
“I’m sorry, Isabelle.”
Wrapping my arms around myself, I curled into a ball.
“Go.”
“I can’t.”
He gently pried one arm away from my middle and started washing it again. It didn’t seem to hurt anymore. But, the pain from the hole in my chest consumed me.
While I cried, Carlos cleaned every gash, scrape, and tear. Then, he left me to my tears.
* * * *
The next time I woke, my head pounded. Before I could start crying again, the bed moved.
“Here.”
I kept my eyes closed, uncaring what Carlos might be offering me. I didn’t want anything except to be left alone.
“You should drink something.”
He smoothed a hand over my hair. It almost comforted me. But I wouldn’t let it. I didn’t deserve comfort. Ethan was dead.
The ache in my chest grew.
“You should go away,” I said.
The door closed, and I cried until I couldn’t anymore. I laid there in numb silence, not thinking of anything; the past was too painful and my future nonexistent. Eventually, I slept.
* * * *
Loud voices woke me.
“We need to talk to her.”
“No.” I recognized Bethi’s voice. “You go in there now, pushing like you want to, you’ll either destroy her, or she’ll destroy you.”
“We can’t stay here.” Impatience and frustration laced Winifred’s words.
“And you can’t push her to leave.”
Leave? And go where? New tears wet my cheeks.
“What are we supposed to do then?”
Bethi sighed.
“None of you understand. I’ll talk to her.”
The door opened, then softly closed again. A moment later, the bed dipped. I didn’t want to talk, so I didn’t open my eyes. It didn’t matter. She didn’t leave.
Sorrow flooded the air as Bethi lay down beside me. Her breath brushed my cheek, but she didn’t say anything. Caving, I opened my eyes to look at her.
She was lying on her side, facing me. Her face was pale, and the dark smudges under her eyes competed with the red puffiness. Her exhaustion was a living thing. Yet, I knew the concern she radiated wasn’t for herself, and it made my tears fall faster.
“Does anything hurt on the inside? Organ-wise?”
She was smart to clarify; everything hurt on the inside.
“No.” My voice was raspy and faint. I didn’t sound like me. I wasn’t me.
“Good. I was worried about that.”
I didn’t ask why. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore.
She reached over and gently touched my tear-streaked face.
“They haven’t suffered real loss yet. None of them understand.” She gave me a sad smile, then rolled her eyes. “And now Luke’s scolding me. They can hear what I’m saying.”
She sighed and shook her head as she tucked both her hands under her cheek.
“He and I have been through a lot together in just a short time. I love him, and I kno
w he loves me. But he still doesn’t understand me, not like Ethan understood you. It takes a lifetime for that, a lifetime you and Ethan had already shared.”
She searched my gaze, and I felt a surge of grief and fear from her before she pulled it back.
“I remember our past lives, Isabelle. Each tragic one of them. I’ve felt what you’re feeling, a pain so deep it’s hollowed me out and has left nothing good behind. A pain that steals your breath and eats at your mind.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “I’ve felt it countless times, and I’m destined to feel it again when I remember your life. I will love Ethan as you love him, and I will die on the inside when he dies. I will never forget him. But please, please, don’t make me suffer more than I need to when I relive your life.”
The tears ran across her cheek to wet her hands and pillow.
She truly understood my hell, and I pitied her for what she would have to remember because of this life. I wrapped my arms around her, and she started crying in earnest.
“I think Ethan would hate what you’re doing now, and it’s killing me, too.”
I held her while she cried, too damaged to take her sorrow from her.
“Why, Bethi? Why did they come after us?” But the real question drilling through my mind was why Ethan had to die.
“Urbat are power hungry. Blake knows that if he controls us, he might be able to influence the Judgement we make. He wants his people to rule.”
Blake.
The hollowing pain shifted a little at her words, leaving room for me to feel something.
I’d seen his people, now, and knew what they were capable of. Under Blake’s rule, how many more Ethans would die?
That empty space inside me expanded, and a hot ball of hate formed.
“No,” I said. “Never.”
“Then we need to stop Blake.” Her earnest gaze held mine.
A shaky exhale escaped me. I didn’t want to keep fighting. Look what my need to fight had caused. I’d lost my only friend. I should go home and tell Ethan’s dad he’d lost his son. As soon as I had that thought, I realized the man probably wouldn’t care; and his indifference would cause me to do something I’d regret. More tears slid down my cheeks. Ethan and I...we’d really only had each other.
And now Ethan was gone. If I wanted to keep Ethan’s death from being pointless, if I wanted to avenge him, I needed to stop Blake.
The hate inside me grew.
I would kill Blake, just as he’d killed Ethan.
* * * *
After Bethi left, the others gave me solitude. Though she hadn’t directly touched on the subject of the group’s need to keep moving, our conversation must have appeased them in some way. That or they’d realized the truth in her words; if they pushed me, I’d push back.
With a broken sigh, I closed my eyes and slept some more.
When I woke with tears already wetting my cheeks, it was light outside. How much time had passed? A day? Two? How long had Ethan been gone, taken from me? I hurt inside, but more than that, I hated. I hated deeply. And it was all mine. In fact, I didn’t feel a single emotion around me.
Someone knocked on the door, startling me enough that the tears stopped. I knew who it was. Carlos.
“Come in.” I didn’t sit up. I didn’t look at the door. I didn’t want to see him. He’d pulled me back from the edge, and I wasn’t yet sure if I was thankful or angry about it.
“Today’s the funeral,” he said softly. “We should leave in twenty.”
His words made my heart stop. I nodded but curled tighter under the covers as the door closed again.
Bury Ethan? I hadn’t thought beyond losing him once I’d woken up again. Now, I could see him one last time. It wasn’t how I wanted to see him, but it was all I would get.
With effort, I pulled myself from bed and padded to the bathroom. I’d gotten up several times before but always in the dark with the lights off. On this trip, I finally caught sight of myself in the mirror and stared in shock. I looked scary as hell.
Bruises, interspersed with hairline abrasions, colored my face. Capillaries had burst, giving my skin a mottled, red hue. My eyes were freakishly bloodshot. I leaned closer to the mirror and realized they weren’t just bloodshot; capillaries had burst there, too.
The marks on my side hurt and were covered with gauze. But there were many more bloody lines crisscrossing my skin that weren’t bandaged. Most of those fissures had already scabbed.
As if seeing the damage made it more real, I started to ache all over. Only then did I realize the pain I’d felt inside had blocked the reality of the damage to my outside.
I stared at myself, seeing what happened when I pulled too much. It wasn’t good. Bethi’s question about hurting on the inside took on new meaning. I’d been so close. Ethan would have been pissed if he’d seen me. Bethi was so right. How close had I been to joining Ethan? Fresh tears started as part of me wished I had joined him.
Reaching into the shower, I turned on the water for the first time in days. I didn’t wait for it to warm but stepped into the cold stream and shivered. As the water cascaded over me, I carefully washed, trying to keep the bandaged parts dry. The water warmed as I rinsed, but it didn’t penetrate the cold in my soul. I turned off the shower and stepped out.
The motions were right—I dressed and combed my hair—but the life behind them was wrong. Tainted. The hate I carried inside was so alien. Sure, I’d thought I’d despised people before. But the new hate that dwelled within me...I wanted to burn the entire planet.
It wasn’t just the hate, though. The consuming guilt that was trying to drown me weighted each movement. Still, I forced myself to keep going.
It felt odd walking out of the bedroom. I wandered down a hall and found Carlos waiting by the door. I didn’t look up at him. I couldn’t. I stared at his shoes.
“Ready?” he said, moving to open the door.
Was I ready to face Ethan?
“No,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. Guilt ate at me. How was it that I couldn’t save him?
Carlos stopped and turned back to me.
“I just left him. How could I do that? How long did he lay there, alone?”
“He wasn’t alone. You stayed with him. I didn’t move you until...”
I liked that he seemed to know I didn’t want to hear more. Swallowing hard, I thought about how I’d pulled after Ethan had fallen.
“How many did I hurt, Carlos?”
“All of them.”
“How bad?”
“Dead.”
I took a slow, deep breath and exhaled. That meant there were fifty less of Blake’s men. It also meant that I’d killed the man who’d taken Ethan from me. A little of the hate stopped boiling.
“Good.”
But I knew the fight wasn’t done yet. I still needed the man who’d sent the Urbat. Blake. I wrapped my arms around myself.
“Are there more of them coming?”
“No. Since the attack, they’ve stayed clear. Gabby says they seem to know where we are but aren’t making any moves toward us. The way north is open for us when we’re ready.”
The group’s willingness to leave me alone for a few days made more sense now. It would give me some time to heal. Luke, too, I thought, recalling his injuries. I couldn’t remember any of them fighting after Ethan fell, though.
“Was anyone else hurt?”
Carlos was quiet for so long, I finally gave in and looked up. Faded bruises and scars from healed claw marks riddled his face.
“No one else,” he said softly.
I looked away. Shame filled me. I’d done that to him. I couldn’t remember most of the fight. Just the rage.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly.
“Would he let you apologize?”
I knew he meant Ethan.
“No. He wouldn’t.”
“Then, I won’t either. I’m here when you need me. However you need me.”
I nodded, and Carlos opened the door. Outside, the
rest of the group waited by the cars. Their pity swamped me. I took it away, just so I wouldn’t have to feel it anymore.
“Isabelle, don’t,” Bethi said. “You need to keep it under control. You can’t handle another break like that again. Trust me.”
I didn’t look at her. Instead, I turned to Carlos. “Which car?”
“We’ll ride alone,” he said and motioned me to the last car.
I went to it, got into the passenger seat, and waited while he shut my door and walked around the car.
Today, I would bury Ethan, our past, and our future. The thought robbed me of breath, and my eyes began to water.
The door opened, distracting me, and Carlos slid in behind the wheel. While he went through his pre driving checklist, the first two vehicles pulled out of the driveway. We followed at a distance. It was a quiet ride. My thoughts whirled around what-ifs and should-haves. Regret burned my stomach, and grief ate a hole through my chest. It hurt to breathe.
The ride didn’t take long. We pulled into the empty parking lot of a funeral home. As soon as I stepped from the car, I felt disconnected from reality. The wind brushed my hair aside as I walked toward the building, but I couldn’t feel the temperature of it.
Carlos held the door for me. The smell of potpourri greeted me as I stepped inside.
I kept walking down the hall then turned into the open parlor on the right. A coffin waited at the front of the large room. There were only a few chairs before it, the sum of Ethan’s life. Like a sleepwalker, I moved forward.
He lay as if sleeping, his serene face powdered with life-like color. I stepped up onto the platform with him and laid my hand over his stomach. How could someone do this to him? Silence him? Ethan brought laughter. Ethan was life.
I was angry, hurt, confused, and alone. I needed someone to talk to, someone to help me through the chaotic thoughts in my head. But whenever I’d had a problem, I’d always talked it out with Ethan. And Ethan wasn’t there anymore.
“How do I live with this much anger?” I said softly.
“You learn to lock it away,” Carlos said beside me.
I hadn’t even realized he’d stayed with me.
“It doesn’t ever leave, but the wall you build around it grows thicker with time, making it harder for you to reach the anger.”
