Angel’s lying on the road, and he’s not moving.
I reach Zach, and get my arms around him. This close, I can differentiate his screams from the others. He’s not screaming Angel. He’s screaming “Reece.” Over and over again, to the ground, hunched over with his eyes squeezed shut so he doesn’t have to see.
Then there’s nothing to see anymore anyway. Just a wall of bodies, as the crowd closes over us to share in our grief. Everything is distant, and floating.
I think they’re suffocating me.
I think they’re drowning us.
The weight of the crowd on us is crushing. I can’t get air in. I can’t focus, I don’t know the answer, I can’t think, because—
Angel’s lying on the road, and he’s not moving.
I don’t want to stand. I just want to kneel here, holding onto Zach, keeping him steady as he screams out the name of someone he knew as a young boy. I don’t want air, and I don’t need it. I don’t mind being crushed.
Then strong hands grab me, and pull me free from the fray. It’s one of the Chase guards. Another guard strides over and stands between me and the crowd, so I can suck in air. Before I can fear for him, I spot another guard emerging from the crowd with Zach. He’s safe. Okay.
But—
Angel’s lying on the road, and he’s not moving.
I can’t cry. I want to, but I can’t. I feel nothing. I see nothing, except Angel’s motionless body, even though he’s blocked from sight by the swarm. I can’t see Erin or Jon. I call for Zach, but the guard shakes his head. “Not now,” he says.
“Is Angel okay? We need to go back.”
“Not now.”
“Let me go to Zach, then. I need to be with Zach.”
“Not now.”
The screams don’t fade as the guard steers me firmly to the refuge of the hotel.
It doesn’t matter how far away we get.
The screams don’t fade.
TWENTY
ZACH
They won’t let us see Angel.
Erin has been messaging us updates, that he’s alive and okay, so we at least know that much. Well, he’s as okay as you can be with a compound fracture, some bruised ribs, and a bunch of scrapes and a possible head injury. They’re not sure how bad it is yet.
But he’s awake, and is mostly okay. He got lucky, that’s for sure.
If they’re telling the truth, that is. We can’t know for sure, because all we have is their word; we aren’t allowed to be with him. Apparently that will cause a scene and will draw even more attention to what’s happened, which Chorus wants to avoid at all costs. Footage of Angel’s accident has spread around the Internet as fast as anything involving us does, but Chorus is really trying to make sure this only lasts one news cycle. That means no visits until it’s all blown over.
Normally, I somewhat get why they keep us out of the loop of big stuff, and I trust that they know how to handle whatever situation is going on best. This is so far from being normal, though.
He’s our friend, and he’s hurt. We should be with him. Being here feels wrong.
Ruben and Jon are in Ruben’s room, waiting for more news, but I left about an hour ago to try to get some sleep. “Try” being the operative word. I can’t get comfortable, as everything feels cloying and too hot.
I get out of bed, and start pacing. The clock on the bedside table says it’s just past four a.m., which makes me think sleep at this point is going to be impossible.
The accident replays in my mind. It’s vivid, down to every minute detail. I can still hear the dull thud of him hitting the hood and tumbling over, before finally hitting the road facedown.
And then the silence.
Until the screaming started, anyway.
He was so still, his body bent awkwardly with his arm jutting out. In that moment, everyone who was there thought he was dead. I know it. I could smell blood. His blood. I saw it, stark red, on his face before the guards dragged the three of us away. Jon tried to fight them, to stay with Angel, but he wasn’t strong enough. I just went with them. I didn’t have the energy to fight back. Maybe I should’ve. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel like this, and Angel wouldn’t be alone.
I press my fingertips into the corners of my eyes, to stop the tears. I’m not ashamed of crying, I’m just sick of it. But I just can’t help but think I should’ve been more aware. I should’ve seen this coming. I should’ve been there for Angel, and stopped this.
I go into the bathroom and lean against the sink. My reflection doesn’t really look like me. Not lately, anyway. My eyes are red, and I have puffy bags under them. I splash some water on my face, then go out and see the empty room. It’s dark and messy.
I feel an ache. I need to be with the others now. Maybe I can’t see Angel, but I can see Ruben and Jon.
In the hallway, there is a whole squadron of Chase guards, more than I’ve ever seen, blocking each end. The stares the guards give me are cold, utterly devoid of emotion. I’m sure they have orders to stop us by any means necessary if we try to leave.
I knock on Ruben’s door, and Jon lets me in.
“Can’t sleep?” asks Ruben.
“Nope.” I sit down beside him on the end of the bed. He puts his hand on my leg, his touch reassuring. “Any news?”
He shakes his head.
“I can’t get ahold of Dad,” says Jon. “I think he’s ignoring me.”
I grimace. Jon has just seen one of his best friends get in a horrific accident, and Geoff’s ignoring him.
I wonder if he even cares about Angel. Or any of us, beyond our value to his company.
I wish I could tell myself that he does.
But I don’t think I can anymore.
* * *
It takes five more hours for Geoff to call us to a meeting for an update on Angel. Eight hours, since Angel’s accident.