“They’re also endangered.”
“Fine,” I said, my voice and legs beginning to tremble as I walked over to a transparent box and pointed. “The big-ass spider.”
Noah walked over and read the label, still holding the box of leeches close. Way too close. I backed away. “Also poisonous,” Noah said evenly.
“Then that will be plenty of incentive.”
“It could bite before you kill it.”
My heart wanted to escape from my throat. “A perfect opportunity to practice your healing,” I choked out.
Noah shook his head. “I’m not going to experiment with your life. No.”
“Then pick something else,” I said, growing breathless with terror. “Not the leeches.”
Noah rubbed his forehead. “They’re harmless, Mara.”
“I don’t care!” I heard the insects in the room beat their chitinous wings against their plastic prisons. I began to lose it and felt myself sway on my feet.
“If it doesn’t work, I’ll take it off immediately,” Noah said. “It won’t hurt you.”
“No. I’m serious, Noah,” I said. “I can’t do it. They burrow under skin and suck blood. Oh my God. Oh my God.” I wrapped my arms around my body to stop it from shaking.
“It will be over quickly, I promise,” he said. “You won’t feel anything.” He reached his hand into the tank.
“No.” I could only croak this in a hoarse whisper. I couldn’t breathe. Multicolored spots appeared behind my eyelids that I couldn’t blink away.
Noah scooped up a leech in his hand and I felt myself sink. Then …
Nothing.
“Mara.”
My eyes fluttered open.
“It’s dead. Unbelievable,” he said. “You did it.”
Noah walked over with his palm open to show me, but I recoiled, scrambled up against the door. He looked at me with an unreadable expression, then went to discard the dead leech. When he lifted the bin to replace it back on the shelf, he stopped.
“My God,” he said.
“What?” My voice was still nothing but a shaky whisper.
“They’re all dead.”
“The leeches?”
Noah put the bin back on the shelf with an unsteady hand. He walked among the rows of insects, eyes scanning the transparent tubs and opening the others to inspect them.
When he reached the spot he started in, he stared at the wall.
“Everything,” he said. “Everything’s dead.”
55
THE STENCH OF ROT FILLED MY NOSTRILS, AND a voice buzzed in my ear.
“Biologists are reporting that the fish kill in Everglades City was most likely due to oxygen depletion in the water.”
Images of bloated, belly-up alligators appeared in my dark consciousness.
“A startling number of alligator corpses are thought to be the culprit.”
I had done that. Just like I’d done this.
Noah surveyed the destruction with empty eyes. He couldn’t look at me. I couldn’t blame him. I wrestled with the doorknob and bolted into the darkness. An assault of screeches and howls and barks met my ears. At least the slaughter was limited.
I was disgusted by myself. And when Noah followed me outside, I saw that he was too.
He avoided my eyes and said nothing. The sight of his hands curled into fists, of his revulsion, stung my heart and made me cry. Pathetic. But once I started, I couldn’t stop and didn’t really want to. The sobs scorched my throat, but it was a good kind of pain. Deserved.
Noah was still silent. Only when I dropped to the ground, unable to stand for a second longer, did he move. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up, but my legs trembled. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. Noah wrapped his arms around me but as soon as he did, I just wanted them off. I wanted to run.
I struggled against his grip, my thin shoulder blades digging into his chest.
“Let me go.”
“No.”
“Please,” I choked.
He loosened his grip by a fraction. “Only if you promise not to run.”
I was out of control, and Noah knew it. Afraid I’d do even more damage, he had to make sure I didn’t ruin anything else.
“I promise,” I whispered.
He turned me to face him, then set me free. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, so I focused on the pattern of his plaid shirt, then at the ground.
“Let’s go.”
We walked wordlessly amid the snarls and shrieks. The animals were all awake, now; the antelope had herded together at the edge of their exhibit, stamping and shifting in fear. The birds flapped, frantic, and one pelican dove straight into an out-cropping of rock as we approached it. It fell to the water and emerged, dragging its broken, limp wing beside it. I wanted to die.
The second we reached Noah’s car, I lunged for the handle. It was locked.
“Open it,” I said, still not meeting his gaze.
“Mara—”
“Open it.”
“Look at me first.”
“I can’t handle that right now,” I said through clenched teeth. “Just open the door.”
He did. I folded myself into the passenger seat.
“Take me home, please.”
“Mara—”