Clenching my jaw to keep from falling apart, I turn away from Cole and try to focus on Amber and her sickness. But in the back of my mind, I play out the scene of Cole beating my dad mercilessly as the Commander watches. I stop and dry heave in the hallway but don’t feel any better afterward.
I want to punch the wall or kick something or scream. Right before I enter Amber’s room, I stop and press my forehead against the wall, placing my hands next to my head as the tears freely fall. I practice breathing in an effort to calm my burning rage.
I hear Amber in her room, moaning and groaning. Straightening my shoulders, I walk through the door in time to see her flipping restlessly from one side to the other on her bed. She mutters to herself and then leaps out of bed and paces. Her head snaps in my direction. She looks like she’s been crying. Her eyes are bloodshot and swollen almost completely shut.
“You must enjoy seeing me like this,” she says.
“Amber, you know that’s not true.”
She laughs. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“Shut up,” I say.
The corners of her mouth curl upward. “Well, look on the bright side: at least you’re not dying like me.”
I shake my head. “Who said you’re dying?”
“Nobody has to tell me. I already know.”
“You can’t give up hope—”
“You’re joking, right?” she says with anger and sarcasm. “It’s not a vaccine. You think I’m too stupid to know that?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because Wilson wouldn’t waste money to save Sinners. Wilson only cares about Wilson and what he can take from whomever he thinks has more than him. Sinners have nothing. We are useless to him.”
Amber clutches her stomach and doubles over, wailing in pain as she falls to the floor. She clenches her teeth and screams. I drop to my knees and put my hand on her back.
“Amber, what can I do? Believe it or not, I want to help you.”
She turns her face toward me, and her eyes dart to mine. “Shoot me,” she says with desperation. Her voice comes out in a low groan edged with misery.
“No. I’m not going to kill you.”
“I’m not asking. I’m telling,” she says.
I shake my head.
“The pain’s unbearable, it feels like someone’s burning me with a torch.”
“All the time?” I ask.
“No, but … soon … it’ll be constant.” She writhes forward, screaming between words. She pants, and her mouth opens, her lips pulling back with each scream. Her hands fly from her stomach to her hair. Strands become entangled with her fingers, and thin pieces fall to the floor in patches. Her eyes are as wide as quarters as she opens them again. She collapses forward onto all fours. I grab her arm, trying my best to stay composed while my skin’s crawling.
“I’m begging you to shoot me.”
“And I already said no. If you want to go ahead and shoot yourself … that’s your decision.”
“I can’t,” she says.
“Why not?”
“I’m not strong enough to pull the trigger. Emotionally, I can’t do it. But you are. I know you are, because you hate watching people suffer.”
“You’re right, Amber, I do. But you could still live through this.”
Amber sits up and shoves my arm away from her. She’s on my level now, and we sit face to face. The hair on the back of my neck stands up.
“I’m not going to survive. No one ever does.”
“Don’t say that.”
“And why not? It’s the damn truth. But lucky for me, I’m dying quickly. So I won’t linger like Alyssa did.”
Hearing her name knocks the wind right out of me. I gasp and put my hand out to steady myself against the wall. Suddenly, my mouth’s as dry as sand. I shake my head.
“What?” I ask. “For a minute, I thought you said ‘Alyssa.’”
She narrows her eyes. “I did.”
“No. No way. She didn’t have the virus you have,” I manage to say as I feel a sudden cold freeze my core.
Amber cocks her head at me. “The only difference between us is that her death was peaceful. She had morphine. You have nothing to give me, and so, what? You’re just going to sit there and watch me while I suffer, listen to me scream? Are you gonna watch me waste away while the virus eats my insides? I’ve seen what this thing does to people. Without pain medication, I’m going to be in excruciating pain … ’til the end.”
“Amber … ”
“Lexi, try to understand. I don’t want the virus to be what actually kills me. The last thing I want is for Wilson to have that kind of power over me. And you of all people … should understand that.”
I shake my head, drawing my arms into myself. “Alyssa didn’t have this virus.”
Amber’s face tightens, and for a moment, her eyes look almost sad, but then she closes them for a second and clears her throat.
“When Alyssa arrived at the hospital her temperature was so high, she was seizing. The uncontrollable vomiting came next, followed by hallucinations. And when the hallucinations finally stopped, that’s when the crippling, unbearable pain began.”
“You’re lying.” My voice comes out angry and strained.
“Lexi, I might not like you, but I’ve never lied to you.”