Page 171 of The World Undone

I hadn’t mentioned abandoning our weird little purgatory again after that.

A few weeks ago, Ro and Dec came up with a plan for a new project, one that breathed new life into the group, kept us busy most of the time, all of us trading between watching over our girl and helping out.

Honestly, having somewhere to filter all of this fear and anxious energy had been a fucking godsend.

It required that we move again, but we didn’t have to go too far this time, and we didn't run into too many other people in the process.

The ritual seemed to have worked, we were growing more certain of it every day.

But the world was transforming around us as a result, uncertainty at every corner.

We weren’t willing to risk exploring things properly until Max was safe and herself again.

Darius created a new sign with “X amount of days since Atlas has threatened to murder someone,” a few weeks ago, and we’d finally made it to a record we were all proud of—two.

But like most temporary reprieves, that burst of hope and possibility slowly began to sizzle out.

Most nights now, I didn’t say too much when I dream-walked here. There wasn’t exactly a surplus of good news to share. There wasn’t much news at all, really, and I didn’t want to fill her unconscious thoughts with our concerns for her, with the depths of our grief.

Instead, I just held her, savoring the feel of her skin against mine, the gentle thrum of her pulse, my lips pressed to the side of her head, whispering over and over again how much I loved her.

How much we all loved her.

3 Months After the Ritual

We abandoned the project. We’d finished it first, but it grew too painful to think about not getting to share it with her.

And without Max there to enjoy the final product, it was pointless.

About a week ago, we collectively decided that the best thing we could do was go find the others. That when Max woke up, she’d want to be surrounded by the community she’d sacrificed so much for—the community that sacrificed so much for her in return.

We still couldn’t teleport, and I was beginning to wonder if we’d ever have access to Max’s powers again, even when she did wake up.

When I let myself think about why we couldn’t reach them, what that might mean, I’d lose myself to a dark place I devoted most of my waking hours to staying out of.

Phone service was spotty these days, but luckily, Arnell knew where we’d been living and came by to check on Ro.

That night, we decided to go back with him, since we were no longer hopeful about the idea of staying in a current spot. We found a couple of vans that were working reliably enough nearby and made the trip to a small campsite they’d been living in, only an hour drive or so from The Lodge.

They’d built it out quite a bit during their time here, and while it didn’t have the same charm or inspire the same feeling of home that the original Lodge always had, it was nice enough. Impressive, really, considering everything.

Seeing everyone infused my team with a renewed sense of purpose, of hope, too, which was a nice bonus.

Our friends were alive and, all things considered, thriving as best as could be expected.

While Saif and Seamus weren’t happy about the fact that we’d taken off in the middle of the night, instead of following everyone here in the first place or bringing them with us, they were so glad to have us back that any lingering anger dissolved into relief almost instantly.

They’d also developed a strange friendship, equal parts bickering and stubborn silence, and I rarely found one without the other.

I wanted so desperately for Max to see this new location they’d carved out in our absence.

It was different from The Lodge, sure, but with everyone here, together, it was almost as good as before.

Almost.

3 Months, Five Days After the Ritual

When I woke up in the now-nightly dream-walk, I pressed my face into the curve of her neck, breathing her in.

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