Clara isn’t here.
I want to go search for her, but I’m too exhausted. Normally, Hyde and I would have traded shifts, two hours on watch, two hours asleep, but we’d felt it best to double up after what had happened with Wylan, both of us alert for danger. We were thrumming with adrenaline too, but now that rush has faded and my eyes won’t stay open.
I collapse onto my bed pad and barely pull my boots off before I plunge into sleep.
At some point I feel the covers shift, and I emerge from the rainbow colors of a dream to see Clara. She burrows under my blanket and nestles beside me. It’s the middle of the day, and she shouldn’t be here, but I love that she is. I love that my sister has come to find me. I pull her close and drift back to sleep, breathing in her strawberry scent.
When I finally wake, Clara is still sleeping. In my dreams I saw her standing in the rain, shaking and crying. Great big hiccups came out of her between sobs as she said, Don’t leave me, over and over.
But then I touch my shirt, feeling the dampness at my breastbone, and I know it wasn’t a dream. Not all of it, anyway.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help her. She’s not like Talon, who seems to have returned without missing a step. Talon lost his parents and his aunt, and yet whenever I see him he is laughing and running off somewhere with Willow and Flea, no sign at all of being scarred.
Not my sister.
Don’t leave me, she cried in my arms.
Clara isn’t lost, like I thought before. She’s worried we’ll turn our backs on her again. Sell her again. She is afraid of being betrayed. She is afraid that if she lets herself love, she’ll only be abandoned again.
And I understand that. I won’t pretend what I’ve gone through is the same, with Perry, but it’s not different, either.
I am afraid too.
Fear is what pulled me away from Hyde.
An unexpected sadness washes over me as I remember what he said. That he wanted to know me. He was opening his heart, but I couldn’t because mine is closed. Mine is bruised and wailing and grasping to stay afloat. Mine is hiding in a corner, terrified it will be discarded again.
And I don’t want it to be.
So much, I don’t want it to be.
A lump rises in my throat as the urge to talk to someone slams into me. I need to tell someone how lonely I feel. How Perry and Liv and Roar left a hole in my life that I don’t know how to fill. I need someone to tell me that everything will be all right.
Molly.
Molly is strong, like my mother isn’t. I don’t have to worry that my problems will burden her with worry. No one else is as wise and understanding.
I pull on my boots, tuck the blankets in around Clara, and jog to the Dweller cave, because that’s where I’ll surely find Molly.
Right away I see that the situation in here has deteriorated. The Dwellers are not shivering and drifting in and out of consciousness anymore. They are silent and still and barely breathing, and there is nothing even partly amusing about it.
It’s frightening.
They are on the verge of dying, and it’s so chilling that I almost forget why I came here until Molly calls my name. I see her in the dimness, crouching over one of the Dwellers. But any thought I had about having a long talk with her vanishes when she snaps, “Hurry, Brooke! Now!”
I rush over and see that she’s pinning Aria down.
Aria is convulsing. Her legs thrash against the blankets and her eyes are wide, but I can’t see her pupils. They’re rolling back.
“Get Perry,” Molly says. “Bring Perry and Marron now!”
For a second, I can’t move. I can only stare. The bandage has been removed from Aria’s arm. The bullet wound on her bicep almost makes me retch. It is swollen and raw. The smell that comes from it is curdled and festering and wrong. The infection is worse. Even I can see that it’s spreading into her bloodstream.