Summoned

The jolt shoots straight up. My head hits the steering wheel. The car swerves. I force myself upright and yank the car back into what I assume is the correct lane.

 

I'm still gasping because breathing hurts. My clothes are drenched in sweat and clinging to my skin. My eyes are burning, my vision blurred. My muscles are tightening into painful knots. The pressure in my skull is building even though I can't imagine it getting worse until it does.

 

Every disobedient thought—about saving Syd, about murdering Karl and Silvia, about driving off a ravine and ending this—jolts my brain. Yet the zaps just piss me off, make me convinced that I won't bow down this time.

 

I can barely keep my head up. My eyelids struggle to stay open.

 

I slow the car as I enter Gallup, New Mexico because the last thing I need is to be pulled over. I'll pass the sobriety test, but I might be unfriendly if they try to detain me.

 

My logic is slippery.

 

I turn into a parking lot and attempt not to clip any of the other vehicles as I slide into a space. Pretty sure this is a hotel. My hand goes to my eyes, but the contact is searing. I'm smoldering to the point I can't even touch my own skin.

 

Maybe I'm coming into my super powers. I am the goddamn Human Torch.

 

I step out of the car and head for the lobby. If I can get a room, sleep for a few hours, maybe I can take this on again. Maybe I can formulate a plan to help Syd escape me.

 

Inside the lobby, I lay my wallet on the counter and fumble for the credit card and driver's license.

 

The clerk asks something.

 

“One,” I say, assuming he wanted to know how many people were staying or how many beds I needed.

 

He studies me, then shrugs and takes the cards. I don't know who I am today.

 

After a moment, he hands back my cards along with the door key. And a map. He hands me a freakin' map. Like I can read the damn thing.

 

I amble back to the parking lot. In the lamp glow, I squint until I make out the walkways. Then I stagger down the path, though I have no idea where I'm going.

 

Each step rattles my brain. I clench my teeth and clomp onward.

 

Someone speaks behind me. I halt, because turning too fast is going to cost me a few hit points.

 

A man comes around to my front. “Sir, can I help you?”

 

I thrust the map at him. I've forgotten how to speak.

 

“Would you like me to take you to the hospital?”

 

I shake my head. My neck stiffens, my brain tilts.

 

He rests his hand on my shoulder and guides me down the walk. I set into a pace of step-cringe-step-grimace. Then he presses me back. We stand in silence.

 

I don't know what we're doing.

 

The door lock clicks.

 

A light flicks on. The glow shines through the blurriness. I trudge toward the illumination into my room. My brain feels hot and stirred. I halt before I wind up on the ground in convulsions.

 

Deep breath.

 

The man is in the doorway still. Earning his karma points.

 

“Can I bring you anything at all?”

 

I shake my head again, despite how it shifts around all the terrible things locked in my skull.

 

He hesitates, then says, “Just dial zero if you need anything, okay? That'll take you to the front desk.”

 

He closes the door as he leaves.

 

I fall to my knees again, head to the ground. My eyes close, but there's no relief. My eyelids burn. My hands go to the back of my neck and start clawing. My fingernails are hot little pokers but I keep digging. Nothing is helping. The fever just grows and grows.

 

I've never been bent this far by the genie bond. Something is going to snap.

 

And that something is going to be me.

 

***

 

 

I lie on the hotel bed, on top of the covers, but the bedding is too hot. Even with them just underneath me, I am suffocating. So I try the floor, but my head continues feel like it is being pumped full of molten cement.

 

I force myself to my knees, but I can't sit straight. My forehead hits the carpet again. My jacket is heavy, but I don't have the dexterity or strength to remove any clothes. Not that it matters. The heat is inside of me.

 

If I could just sleep. But I can't. It won't let me. Not until I assure it that I'm going to kill Syd. And mean it.

 

I never will.

 

A jolt has me twitching again.

 

I don't care. Nothing can convince me to harm her. So I'm stuck with this.

 

I hold up my hand and tilt my head to peer at it. My skin should be bright red, like I've been submerged in boiling water, but I only see a layer of sweat. No other indication that I'm on fire inside.

 

My hand drops next to me. The thump is followed by several thuds as I knock my head into the floor.

 

“Please, please, stop,” I say through gritted teeth.

 

The first words I've spoken since Holbrook, hours ago. I work my legs from under me and collapse on my side. My eyes are open. I try to zone out. Try to remove myself mentally from what is happening physically.

 

Doesn't work. I am not allowed to escape.

 

Next thing I know, I'm pacing. Sweating and grinding my teeth. I try to envision how to get me and Syd out of this, but I can't formulate a coherent thought, let alone a plan.

 

Warmth touches the top of my lips. I bring my hand to my face.

 

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