Page 12 of Burn Like An Angel

“Don’t agree with me, Langley.”

“I don’t exactly like it either.”

As the syrupy fog lifts further, I realise they aren’t whispering at all. The two opposing voices are deep in a heated argument, their bickering overlapping a cacophony of other sounds that are slowly filtering in.

Screaming. Shouting.

Breaking glass. Loud whoops.

“Guys,” a raspier voice interrupts them. “Quiet, both of you. They’re right outside.”

Banging. Smashing.

Excited hollers. More screams.

Trepidation slithers down my spine. I have no choice but to peel my heavy lids open. The light I anticipated to greet me never comes. Shadows and darkness douse my vision, broken by weak moonlight and blurry outlines.

“Xan,” I moan weakly.

There’s a shuffle, then a figure looms.

“Here, man. Don’t move.”

My tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth, a length of scratchy sandpaper that refuses to obey. I will my throat muscles to respond, swallowing repeatedly until I can form words.

“W-Where?”

“Medical wing,” Xander answers, holding a bottle to my lips. “You’ve been out of it for a while. Are you in pain?”

I greedily gulp down lukewarm water, my throat screaming too much to respond.

“He’s had the maximum dose,” someone else interjects.

“Do you even know what those drugs do?” Xander hisses back.

“I wouldn’t have injected him with them if I didn’t.”

A hand swipes down my arm, tracing a map on my skin. I recognise the rough pads of Raine’s violin-worn fingertips.

“Ignore them, Nox.” The shape of him sitting next to me becomes clearer as my vision settles. “How do you feel?”

Staring at their faces—Xander, Raine and for some reason, that piece of shit guard who’s way too friendly with Ripley—it takes a moment for my brain to catch up. I must’ve blacked out as we ran.

“Peachy,” I rasp. “How long was I out?”

“About… ten, eleven hours.” Xander stares at the clock locked behind a metal cage on the wall. “You were sedated while he treated your injuries.”

Thehein question lingers behind Xander, arms folded across his built chest. Langley treated me? I hate that weird guy. He trails around after Ripley like a lost puppy begging for scraps of affection.

“Where is she?”

Xander narrows his dark-blue eyes on me. “What happened in that basement?”

Struggling weakly, I try to sit up in the hospital bed and fail. “Where. Is. She?”

“Lay still, for fuck’s sake.”

“Xan!”

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