The Stars Never Rise

“Whoa…” The warehouse tilted around me, and I almost dropped my bowl. “Something’s wrong.”


Finn set his bowl down and glanced at the watch on his left wrist. “Yeah, that’s about right. How’s your head? Any pain?”

“What’s happening?” Vertigo washed over me, and I threw one leg out to keep from falling sideways.

“Okay, hang on. Let me help.” He stood and grabbed the extra pillow next to his.

I blinked, trying to draw the room back into focus, then set my paper bowl on the ground and pushed it back with a shaking hand. My pulse raced, and that only made me dizzier. “What’s in the stew, Finn?”

“This has nothing to do with the food, I swear.” He squatted next to me and set the extra pillow beside mine. “Here. Lie down.”

But I scooted away from him clumsily. The warehouse spun, and suddenly my clothes felt like chain mail instead of cotton.

Panic danced in my chest and I tried to stand, but the signal Flee! got lost somewhere between my brain and my muscles. My other leg shot out and my foot flipped my bowl. My arm collapsed behind me and my shoulder slammed into the bare concrete. “What’s wrong with me?” I demanded, and my words were slurred.

“You’re gonna be fine. Try to hold still, Nina. Don’t fight it or you’ll hurt yourself.”

Terror made my pulse trip when he reached for me. “Fight what? What’s wrong with me?” My words were a mishmash of soft syllables, like verbal baby food. The warehouse was going dark from the edges of my vision inward, as if the night was spiraling in on me.

“Just close your eyes and try to relax….”

The rest of his instructions got lost as the world went dark, and the last thing I saw was Finn’s green eyes staring down into mine while he lifted my head and slid a pillow beneath it.

***

My ears regained function first, and I heard Finn talking but couldn’t tell what he was saying. I heard sound, but that sound had no focus.

The first words that made sense were spoken by a girl I didn’t know. “Where the hell are you?” Her voice was peppered with static.

I blinked, and the ceiling of the warehouse appeared above me, a distant, dark blur. Why can’t I move? Fresh panic fluttered in my chest.

Finn sighed, and I heard footsteps as he paced to my right. “I found an empty warehouse on Morgan Street. On the north side of town, near the old train depot.”

“Morgan…” Paper crinkled over the connection, and I realized she was looking at a map. Whoever she was.

“We’re fine, Devi.” Finn sounded exhausted. Frustrated.

I tried to move my right arm, and my fingers twitched.

“We’re fine? How do you know he’s fine? Have you asked him?”

Him? Had Finn told her I was a guy? Was she his girlfriend? Kids our age rarely defined illicit relationships with titles or commitment, but there were exceptions, like Mellie and Adam. Did Finn think his girlfriend wouldn’t notice my complete—if not entirely functional—set of girl parts?

“Thirty-eight hours!” Devi shouted. “I’ve been looking for you for nearly two days. Don’t you ever disappear on me like that again!”

Yup. Definitely a girlfriend.

Finn paced closer to me that time, which brought him into my field of vision, behind the camp stove. He was almost in focus. “I found her.”

Her? Me, her? Then who was “him”?

“That’s no excuse!” Her shrill shout made my ears ring. “Grayson says there’s a small horde somewhere in your area, and you’re all alone with a rookie. What happens if they find you?”

“Shit!” Finn rubbed his forehead in frustration, and I flexed my right hand, forcing all four fingers to move at once. They brushed soft material, and I realized he’d covered me with a blanket. “She’s been triggered. If they’re that close, they’ve already scented her. We have to move.”

“Did your brain leak out your ears this morning? Stay there. We’ll come get you. Hopefully, we can take out a few of them along the way to even the odds.”

I lifted my left arm from the blanket, and when Finn turned toward the motion, he found me looking at him.

“Gotta go. She’s waking up.”

Both of my arms were working, as were my fingers. My toes twitched in my sneakers when I tried to move them. My body was slowly surrendering to my control, but that did little to alleviate my anger and fear, when I didn’t know how I’d lost control of it in the first place.

“Do not get him hurt, Finn,” the girl on the radio said, static breaking her order into several bursts of sound I had to concentrate to make sense of.

Finn clipped the radio to the waistband of his jeans, then stepped over the portable heater and knelt next to me. “Hey.”