Page 96 of Silver Elite

She rests her head on my shoulder, her voice rippling with gratitude as she adds, “Thank you. You got me through that.”

Oh hell. I’m softening to her. It’s getting harder and harder to stop these little seeds from sprouting into a genuine friendship. It’s the same with Kaine—I’m a victim to his charms. And Betima, who lures me in with her top-notch sarcasm.

In another life, an alternate universe, I could see myself being friends with these people. Or maybe that’s where I am now, standing at the crossroads of some parallel universe, staring at divergent paths, one where an alternate reality is mine for the taking. Maybe I should not only accept my fate like Cross advised butembraceit.

Let myself care about these people with whom I’ve just spent three grueling weeks, truly care about them.

Give up my childish desire to become a valued member of the Uprising like Jim and my parents.

Forget that I’m Modified. I suppose that one won’t be too hard. Telepathy is the only gift I rely on regularly, anyway. I can cut my links to Tana. To Wolf.

I can start fresh in this new reality. Why not give in to it—

A scream rips through the air, shattering the night like glass.

I can’t quite grasp what I’m seeing. A blur above my head, moving so fast it’s gone when I blink.

Then understanding dawns, and I watch in horror as the body falls out of the sky.

A recruit just plunged those five stories I promised Lyddie were safe. He lands not on the pavement but on the rusted steel fence separating the two buildings.

Impaled by one of the spiked posts.

Bile hurtles up my throat. It’s Glin Cotter. I recognize his black curls and massive shoulders. Those shoulders are normally set in a proud line. Right now, they’re slumped, his body grotesquely bowed over the post like a sick offering to the gods.

I start running, Betima and Kaine hot on my heels. Glin is still alive, but he’s screaming. Crying out with the kind of agony that makes your body curl into itself.

Kaine reaches him first. “Hey, brother, it’s okay. Don’t move. Stop moving.”

Glin continues to thrash, moans of pain ripped from his throat.

Roe joins us, helping Kaine try to keep Glin still. Betima’s hands tremble as she touches Glin’s shoulder to offer comfort, but there’s little she can do. The young man’s agony is palpable, his face contorted as he struggles to draw breath. We’re helpless witnesses to his suffering.

Betima curls her fingers around Glin’s flailing arm, but he slaps at her hand, his elbow snapping into her face. She makes a sound of distress but keeps attempting to console him.

“Help me!” Glin pleads between loud, agonized groans. “Get me off this thing. Help.”

Struck and Ford move with urgency as they arrive to examine the wounded recruit. “Don’t move, Cotter,” Ford says in a low voice. “Let’s have a look.”

What’s there to look at? There’s a rusty metal spike protruding from the guy’s chest.

Betima starts to back away. Hugging her arms to her chest and shaking as if she’d just entered a freezer. She pulls her sleeves down as far as they’ll go and hugs herself tighter. She’s in shock.

“Hold his arms,” Ford snaps at her as Cotter continues to resist.

Although her face is green now, she leans in to help secure Glin’s squirming arms.

Me, I slowly back away, because there’s nothing I can do for him. He won’t survive this. Nobody can.

Glin’s screams have dimmed to whimpers. “H-help. Heeeeelp…”

He’s fading.

Betima tries to soothe him, but it’s a futile effort. He blinks at her, and then he’s gone. Eyes glassy. Vacant. Dead.

A tormented moan escapes Betima’s lips. She releases her grip on Glin’s arm and stumbles several feet away, where she bends her torso and vomits all over the pavement.

“Poor Glin,” I hear Lyddie whisper.

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