all the properties of armor but it feels like skin should feel.”
I jerk my hand away when I realize I’ve trailed my arm all the way up to her shoulder in my exploration. I clear my throat noisily, embarrassed.
“What were you meaning to ask me?” she asks, not missing a beat, pretending she can’t see how embarrassed I am to have felt her up like that. “Before, when you asked what it felt like. What did you mean?”
“I meant the blast. You were much closer to the explosion in your city than I was in mine. I was far enough that we only suffered from the impact, not the heat and light.”
Yasmine sighs, folding her hands together in her lap. Her eyes grow distant and watery and her voice is haunted as she speaks. “It feels like dying,” she whispers. “It’s the only way I can think of to describe it. It’s like dying a thousand deaths and wishing that each one were the last one. The white light is so intense, you think you’ll never see again. And just when you’ve gotten over it—the pain of realizing that you may never lay eyes on green grass, blue sky, or gleaming city buildings again—the burning starts and it’s so intense, it feels like tiny needles invading every pore of your skin and stabbing deep, lighting you on fire from the inside. It feels like Hell.”
A lone tear slips down her cheek and my insides jerk, hard. I swallow past the lump in my throat and blink rapidly to get rid of the extra moisture pooling in my eyes. Yasmine swipes at the tear on her milk-chocolaty cheek and forces a smile.
“So,” she says, recovering nicely, “is there a plan for rescuing Olivia?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I answer. “As soon as I got home I came here. I wanted to make sure you were okay first. Now I guess I should go shower, change and meet up with the others. Getting into Stonehead a second time will not be easy.”
“Go,” she says, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “Don’t worry about me. As you can see, I’m fine now. Just do me a favor, will you?”
“Sure,” I offer. “What do you need?”
“Try to sneak some desert in from the cafeteria. They won’t give me any real food until tomorrow morning and the nurses keep making me drink these God-awful protein shakes.”
I pull a face and grunt in remembrance of the chalky taste of the protein shakes she’s referring to. “Ugh, you poor girl. I’ve got your back. Chocolate mousse or vanilla cake?”
“How about both?”
When I enter my room, I immediately peel my soiled undershirt off and begin rifling through my drawers for clean clothes to wear. I passed Jenica in the hallway and she informed me that we were meeting in the Professor’s quarters in twenty minutes—just enough time for me to shower, shave, dress and scarf down a few strips of beef jerky and drink some water before joining the meeting.
Without thinking, I throw open the bathroom door, forgetting to knock like I always do. The connecting door to Blythe’s room is hanging open and I can see her and Gage inside, seated on opposite sides of her narrow bed, talking.
“I’m sorry I failed you,” Gage is saying as I drop my clothes onto the bathroom counter. My jaw tightens as he reaches across the bed to take her hand. “I failed all of you.”
“What happened to Olivia wasn’t your fault,” Blythe says, curling her fingers around his. “I don’t blame you.”
Gage shakes his head and lowers his eyes. “You should.”
“Hey,” Blythe says, reaching up to his jaw with her free hand. “No more guilt, okay? Remember, we’re a family here. There is no condemnation here. The mission was dangerous and we should never have attempted two rescue missions simultaneously. It put all of us at risk, including you. I would never have forgiven myself for being part of making that decision if something had happened to you.”
“Hey guys,” I call loudly from the bathroom, as if I’ve just walked in on them. “Meeting in the Professor’s quarters in
I jerk my hand away when I realize I’ve trailed my arm all the way up to her shoulder in my exploration. I clear my throat noisily, embarrassed.
“What were you meaning to ask me?” she asks, not missing a beat, pretending she can’t see how embarrassed I am to have felt her up like that. “Before, when you asked what it felt like. What did you mean?”
“I meant the blast. You were much closer to the explosion in your city than I was in mine. I was far enough that we only suffered from the impact, not the heat and light.”
Yasmine sighs, folding her hands together in her lap. Her eyes grow distant and watery and her voice is haunted as she speaks. “It feels like dying,” she whispers. “It’s the only way I can think of to describe it. It’s like dying a thousand deaths and wishing that each one were the last one. The white light is so intense, you think you’ll never see again. And just when you’ve gotten over it—the pain of realizing that you may never lay eyes on green grass, blue sky, or gleaming city buildings again—the burning starts and it’s so intense, it feels like tiny needles invading every pore of your skin and stabbing deep, lighting you on fire from the inside. It feels like Hell.”
A lone tear slips down her cheek and my insides jerk, hard. I swallow past the lump in my throat and blink rapidly to get rid of the extra moisture pooling in my eyes. Yasmine swipes at the tear on her milk-chocolaty cheek and forces a smile.
“So,” she says, recovering nicely, “is there a plan for rescuing Olivia?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I answer. “As soon as I got home I came here. I wanted to make sure you were okay first. Now I guess I should go shower, change and meet up with the others. Getting into Stonehead a second time will not be easy.”
“Go,” she says, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “Don’t worry about me. As you can see, I’m fine now. Just do me a favor, will you?”
“Sure,” I offer. “What do you need?”
“Try to sneak some desert in from the cafeteria. They won’t give me any real food until tomorrow morning and the nurses keep making me drink these God-awful protein shakes.”
I pull a face and grunt in remembrance of the chalky taste of the protein shakes she’s referring to. “Ugh, you poor girl. I’ve got your back. Chocolate mousse or vanilla cake?”
“How about both?”
When I enter my room, I immediately peel my soiled undershirt off and begin rifling through my drawers for clean clothes to wear. I passed Jenica in the hallway and she informed me that we were meeting in the Professor’s quarters in twenty minutes—just enough time for me to shower, shave, dress and scarf down a few strips of beef jerky and drink some water before joining the meeting.
Without thinking, I throw open the bathroom door, forgetting to knock like I always do. The connecting door to Blythe’s room is hanging open and I can see her and Gage inside, seated on opposite sides of her narrow bed, talking.
“I’m sorry I failed you,” Gage is saying as I drop my clothes onto the bathroom counter. My jaw tightens as he reaches across the bed to take her hand. “I failed all of you.”
“What happened to Olivia wasn’t your fault,” Blythe says, curling her fingers around his. “I don’t blame you.”
Gage shakes his head and lowers his eyes. “You should.”
“Hey,” Blythe says, reaching up to his jaw with her free hand. “No more guilt, okay? Remember, we’re a family here. There is no condemnation here. The mission was dangerous and we should never have attempted two rescue missions simultaneously. It put all of us at risk, including you. I would never have forgiven myself for being part of making that decision if something had happened to you.”
“Hey guys,” I call loudly from the bathroom, as if I’ve just walked in on them. “Meeting in the Professor’s quarters in
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