by Bella Street
“I'm truly sorry,” he said, his voice tense.
She stared up at him, confused. “For what?”
He glanced at the wall. Did he see the door, too?
“I'm sorry Trent is not coming back.”
“He's not?” she said faintly. “Why?”
“You know why.”
Her respiration jumped and tears flooded her eyes. She backed away from him, but bumped into the corner. Shaking her head, she twisted away, searching for an escape.
Malone put his hands on her arms, his grip firm.
Her mind wincing from the terrible thing at the edges of her consciousness, Seffy stared at the blurry pattern of his flannel shirt. “Where...where are your coveralls?”
“I'm no longer a part of the security force here. I resigned because of my failure.”
She looked up at him. He quit? How was that possible? How was any of it? She bit her trembling lip. “But if you can't survive, how will I?”
He smiled grimly, which made him look more evil than ever. “You're the toughest survivor I've ever met. You're a lot stronger than you think.”
Gripping the folds of his shirt, she swallowed a rising lump in her throat. “I can't survive this time. It's too big.” Her breath came in short puffs as a fresh tide of despair flowed over her.
Malone put his arms around her as she buried her head against his chest. Ragged sobs tore from her body as she wept. Tears came from a bottomless well that never ran dry.
She gasped for air as she grasped for sanity to make sense of this pain.
Seffy cried until her eyes were swollen shut, until the front of Malone's shirt was drenched through, but she felt as hopeless as when she started. How could there be hope when she awoke alone, the sheets next to her cold and empty?
No, this was too big.
As fatigue took over, her breathing slowed, but her body began to shake uncontrollably. Malone's arms tightened around her. She'd never be warm again, she'd never be whole. “I want to see him.”
“You can see his grave,” he said roughly. “That's all.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. “It's not enough!”
“I know.” He slowly released her and drew her to the bed. “You need some rest. Maybe you'll dream about him.”
She curled up on the bed and looked up at him with wide eyes. “Is that...okay?”
“It's what I would do.”
Seffy compressed her lips. She nodded, barely able to see him through the haze of moisture. She put her head on her folded hands and closed her eyes.
But sleep eluded her. Anguish continued to rock her body and she pressed her face into the pillow to stifle the noise.
A blanket was placed over her form and she felt the bed depress as Malone sat next to her. His hand was warm where it rested on her side. She wanted to thank him for his presence, because it helped a little, but the storm still raged within her, making speech all but impossible. Images of Trent filled her mind.
How could he be gone? How could this have happened? Did he miss her as much as she missed him?
***
Gareth knocked lightly on Seffy's door and was relieved when Malone answered. Malone slipped out into the hall, closing the door behind him.
“How is she?” Addison asked.
He grimaced. “Upset.”
The redhead blushed at his curt tone.
Lani looked at him with hungry eyes, but he avoided her gaze.
“Did she act unusual in any way?” Gareth asked.
“Yeah, but grief does that to a person.” His eyes narrowed. “She doesn't think too much of you, which I find interesting.”
“She thinks Gareth killed Trent,” Addison said.
“It's why I'm worried about her state of mind.”
Malone snorted. “Maybe she has a reason for thinking the way she does—”
“Malone, you were an eyewitness.”
“I'm just saying that when Seffy goes off, it's not for some made-up reason. There's always something behind it.”
“So what, now you're a psychiatrist?” Gareth said, his lip curling.
Malone sent a murderous look his way, but remained silent.
“Why aren't you in uniform?” Lani asked in a tremulous voice.
His gaze slid toward her, his eyes cool. “Don't have a uniform anymore.”
“They fired you?” Addison gasped.
“I resigned, for obvious reasons.” He crossed his arms. “But before that, we searched Jared's room and found drug paraphernalia and pink tracksuits like the ones Seffy wears.”
Lani's eyes widened. “So he was the one wearing it when there were all those sightings?”
“Looks like it.”
“What kind of drug paraphernalia?” Addison asked.
He shrugged. “Syringes mostly.”
“What, he was some kind of junkie?”
“No, he tested negative for drugs.”
“So why have syringes?”
“Maybe he wanted to drug someone else?” Lani ventured.
“He's refusing to answer questions right now.”
“Maybe the compound needs to lean on him a little.”
“Addison,” Lani scolded.
“What? It's what they're known for, right? Psychotropic experimentation? Outright torture? Or do they just pick on the girls around here?”
Lani looked toward Malone. “Most of the...experimentation was back in the old days, I think.”
“Well, obviously some of those old days people are left or we wouldn't be having a conversation about Seffy's mental state.”
“Thanks for staying with Seffy,” Gareth said quickly, deciding the subject had deteriorated enough.
The ex-security guard nodded, then strode away.
Lani watched him until he disappeared around a corner. “It's awful he feels responsible for what happened.”
“Yeah, but it wasn't Malone or me, it was Jared. It would be nice if people remembered that around here.”
“Why would Jared have syringes in his room?”
Gareth sent a frustrated look Addison's way. “What does it matter? He's out of play and Seffy thinks I'm the bad guy.”
“So what now?” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “We just keep an eye on her and hope she doesn't go completely over the edge?”
“Or we can get her the long-term solution she needs.”
“Long-term meaning severing something in her brain?”
Lani's mouth tightened. “Hush, both of you. Gareth, you go keep on the computer lab guys. No matter how much support Seffy gets from us, it won't be enough if we're stuck here at the compound forever.”
“What about Malone?” Addison said, arching a brow. “You willing to leave him behind when that magic day arrives?”
Lani lifted her chin. “Maybe we'll just take him with us.”
***
Seffy saw him in the crowd, watching her with his silvery gray eyes. Her heart leapt at the sight of him leaning against the bar. Overhead, a mirrored ball spun from the ceiling, flooding the room in reflective rainbow-colored squares. She didn't hear any music and wondered why the place was so full.
The dancers undulated around her to some hidden beat, sometimes blocking her view of him as she struggled to make her way to his side.
Seffy couldn't make sense of his expression or the remote look in his eyes. Wasn't he glad to see her? Didn't he want to make his way toward her? But his elbows remained on the bar, his stance relaxed.
A dancer stepped on her foot suddenly, making her wince. She glanced up at the man, startled to see it was Fenn.
“I'm sorry,” he said stiffly. “I never meant to cause you pain.”
Seffy frowned and craned her neck past him, looking for Trent. He was still there at the bar, thank God. But as she made her way toward him, Lani danced in front of her.
“Isn't this great? Just like we always talked about.” She swiveled her head around the room, her blue eyes bright. “This place used to be an abandoned du
mp. Now look at it!”
Seffy tried to keep her expression polite, but seriously? Lani and her fantasies.
“At least she has some,” a voice hissed in her ear. She spun around to find Addison glaring at her. “News flash, we don't all want to be like you. Let the girl dream!”
As the redhead shoved past the dancers, Seffy twisted back to see if Trent was still at the bar. He was, but he was checking his watch, then glancing around the room as if restless.
Was he waiting for someone...else? Her pulse pounded in her ears as she tried to slip through a gap in the crowd.
“Where do you think you're going?” Fiona stood with her hands on her hips, seemingly impervious to the bustle all around her. “You'll leave when we let you.”
Seffy ignored her and pushed past.
“Don't you hear the music?” Gareth stepped in front of her, his dark eyes piercing. “Who do you think you are?”
She licked her lips, wondering how to respond, but it was hard to think with all the bodies bumping into her.
“There's music, Seffy. Stop trying to pretend it doesn't exist.”
Seffy shook her head, not understanding his words. She peeked around him. Trent was turning away from the bar, preparing to leave.
“I've tried and tried to get you to hear it, but you refuse.”
She pushed past him, frantic to get to Trent before he was gone. Why didn't he wait for her? She wanted to call out, but couldn't.
Hands grabbed her arms. “Are you listening to me?”
Seffy wrenched from Gareth's grip and plowed through the crowd after Trent, just barely able to see the back of his head as he went toward the exit.
Don't go! I'm right here!
But the words only echoed in her mind.
She burst out the door of the club, looking up and down the sidewalk. Neon light glowed on the wet streets filled with traffic. A street sign said West Beverly Blvd. People wandered past, but she couldn't find Trent anywhere. Seffy stepped to the edge of the sidewalk and stared down at a rain puddle.
The red neon made it look like blood.
Seffy opened her eyes, her breath noisy, her body shaking. She sat up, hardly aware of the blankets falling from her shoulders, and looked down at the space next to her. Her hand went to the sheets. They were cold.
“He's not there.”
Seffy gasped at the voice and looked up to find Addison sitting across the room on the couch. When her pulse slowed, she said, “Who?”
Addison grimaced and looked away.
Fragments of her dreams were cross-hatched by dark memories. Seffy flung the blankets aside and scooted from the bed. She headed for the door, but Addison's voice stopped her.
“Where are you going?”
Seffy didn't know. Somewhere. Nowhere.
Maybe they were the same place.
“You can't leave, Sef.”
She spun around and face the redhead. “What?
Addison shrugged. “You're stuck here, just like I am. Just like we all are.”
“But...I don't want to stay.”
“None of us do,” Addison said, her jaw tight.
Seffy winced at the sarcastic tone. She tried to make sense of it, but couldn't. The fog in her brain was too thick. “Have you seen...?” She wanted to finish the sentence but was suddenly afraid.
Addison's expression crumpled. “God, Sef, you don't mean Trent, do you?”
Seffy grabbed the door handle, frozen.
The redhead stood up and crossed the room, her face paper white. “He's not here.”
“I can see that,” Seffy snapped. “That's why I have to go find him.”
Addison stood close, her fierce green eyes awash in tears. “You held him in your arms as he died, Sef. You watched as he was buried. You have to come to grips with this. Gareth wants to do something drastic if you can't get yourself under control—”
Dark memories flickered in the gloom of her mind, but she shook her head. “If he's not here, than I have to go to him.”
“Okay, if you're going to start mumbling about suicide, Gareth will have you restrained...and I mean permanently.”
Seffy released the door handle and pressed her hands on the side of her head. “I saw him. He left without me. I just need to catch up.”
“God.” Addison grabbed her arm and tugged her towards the couch, then pushed her gently onto the cushions. She knelt down and faced her. “Sef, I'm serious. If you don't get a grip, Gareth wants you to be mentally altered.”
Seffy felt a blanket of misery settle onto her shoulders. She put her face into her hands and began to weep. “He left without me. I miss him.”
Her friend got up and sat next to her, putting her arm around her.
“I miss him, too.”
***
Gareth looked up as Addison strode into the bedroom where he and Lani sat conferring.
His brows knit together. “What happened?”
Addison's stoic expression cracked. “She's just a basket case and it wrecks me listening to her cry.”
“Who's with her now?” Lani asked, her eyes wide.
“No one. I mean, she said she wanted to take a shower, so I left.”
Gareth snorted, then closed his eyes. “This could be avoided if Olga was reasonable.” He got up and went to the bathroom, shutting the door harder than necessary.
Lani hurried to Addison's side. “What aren't you telling me?” she whispered.
Addison blew out a weary sigh. “She's doing that thing where she wakes up and can't find him. Then when she realizes he's not findable, she goes to pieces.”
“It's been a week now, so would you say it's getting worse or better?”
“It's definitely not getting better. She talks about going to him.”
Lani's eyes bugged. “Like suicide?” she squeaked.
Addison glanced at the bathroom door. “Maybe. But if we tell Gareth, he'll start breathing down Olga's neck to 'fix' her.”
The brunette bit her lip. “Would it be so bad? Maybe then she'd have some peace.”
“Lani, that's sick. Obviously Gareth has been getting to you.”
The bathroom door opened and he walked out, his face damp as if he'd just washed it. “What are you two whispering about?”
“What else?” Addison said, an edge of defiance in her voice.
“Well, I'm heading down to the lab to see what I can do. The nerds have been getting a bit high-pitched lately, which means we might be getting close to something.”
Lani looked at Addison, then nodded. “It's time to go home.”
***
Seffy hunched in Trent's hoodie and pushed open the exit door leading to the garden area of the compound. A swift wind slammed into her body, driving her backward. Snowflakes swirled in the clouds before dusting the barren landscape. She headed for the graves.
Some memories might be a blur, but the long walk to the cemetery was still sharp in her mind.
She trudged with leaden steps, her anguish growing as she neared the graves. Seffy remembered being here, remembered the burial, but still couldn't contain the idea that Trent was gone.
She found the fresh grave. Red crumbled earth littered with nearly-pink snowflakes surrounded a small metal frame that held his marker. Trenton H. Ellison.
Her respiration increased as she stared at the small gray square. Did seeing it make it real? Did a grave marker make it true?
Was her husband really dead? Gone forever?
Her fingers dug into the palms of her hands.
How did a heart just decide to stop beating? How did organs know they were injured?
Why hadn't his eyes known he was gone? It was her hand that had closed them—a hand that had been holding him seconds earlier, feeling the warmth of his body against her own.
Tears burned like acid then froze on her cheeks, only to remelt as new tears fell. Trent's neatly-typed name blurred into incomprehensible lines. That's what this was—incomprehensible.
What facu
lties did she possess to make sense of it? Her heart refused to be comforted because there was no comfort. Her brain held fragmented bits of information with no way to make it cohesive.
So she stared at the dirt, shivering violently, wishing she'd thought to have her husband buried with his hoodie, because surely he must be as cold as she.
“Figured I'd find you here.”
Seffy blinked without interest at Malone's voice. She was numb and the sky was wild, and her heart too battered to function.
“Let's get you inside before you get hypothermia. The others are frantic.”
“Who are the others?”
Malone sighed. “Your friends. They couldn't find you, so they raised the alarm. I told them I had an idea where you might be and here you are. And from the looks of the snow piled up on you, you've been here a while.”
Seffy glanced at one shoulder and saw about an inch of accumulation. She looked at the grave marker and went still. “Why am I here?” She turned to Malone, feeling as if the aliens had scooped out her insides for real. “How did this happen?”
His expression hardened and he averted his face for a moment.
Then he took her arm and led her back to the compound and down the empty halls. As they neared her room, she looked up at him, weariness leeching her bones of strength.
“Can you tell them not to come? I need some more time.”
Malone stared at her, his gaze grim. “Will you promise to take a hot shower?”
She nodded.
“All right then, get to it. And no more wandering off without telling anyone.”
Seffy didn't know what to say so she went into her room and shut the door. It didn't take much motivation to step into the shower and allow the hot water to warm her body. If only Trent was holding her, adding his heat to hers. But he wasn't, and while her skin grew hot, her insides were gone, now filled with snow.
And the snow was pink.
Chapter Six
The rumble awoke Fenn. He lay listening in the darkness. Another earthquake—this one mild.
He reached for the lamp on the nightstand and turned it on. Next to him, Fiona slept undisturbed. She looked so sweet when she was asleep—long lashes feathered her cheeks. Her pulse fluttered in her delicate neck. She looked too frail to intimidate anyone, let alone him. But she owned every inch of his heart.
