Page 195 of The Order

“I'll be seeing you, Mrs. Blackburn,” the figure says, their hands deep in their robe pockets. Trailing behind the figure, the Paradoxes give me one last look, closing the door with a soft thud.

Lingering in the room's overbearing silence, I rise on shaky feet, finally allowing myself to look at Andrew fully. My legs give out the closer I get to his body. Crumpling to my knees, I join my husband’s still figure. The tears for all that I have lost finally paint my cheeks. Wrapping my arms around his cold neck, I sob into the empty cavern of his chest.

All of this loss. All of this pain.

For what?

A sliver of light spans across the floorboards, adding color to Andrew’s pale skin. Standing in the doorway, Xavier watches as I fill the space with my grief. With hazy eyes, I turned to him, my lip wobbling, my heart broken.

“What the fuck could you possibly want from me now?” I scream hatefully; his eyes just as emotionless as they were a few moments ago.

Any sign of humanity within the man left when the figure in the silver mask entered the room.

“I'm supposed to take you to your holding quarters,” Xavier begins, looking at me with a sigh.

There's a pause, my body unable to move away once he raises his hand. Grazing my cheek with his fingertips, his look of indifference melts away, replaced with a fleeting glimpse of sorrow to match my own.

“You look like her when you cry,” he whispers, a well of emotion threatening to break free from him.

He retracts his hand with a painful groan, grabbing his neck and clenching his fists as tightly as he can. Forcing his mask of apathy is back in place, any sign of emotion slips away, leaving as quickly as it came.

“I do hope she believes in God, Katiana,” Xavier begins. The mention of the old world's deity is sudden.

“Why?” I question shakily, unsure if I want the answer.

“Because God is the only one that could save her now.”

Silence blankets the room, my heart thundering in my chest.

“I’ll give you a few more moments to wallow in the grief yourlovehas caused you,” he snaps, looking at Andrew with a nod of his head.

With that, he moves away quietly, closing the door, leaving me to process my pain in solitude and silence once more.

Chapter sixty-two

Forest

Mylegsburnfromeach uneven step on the rough terrain, the debris hidden under the ash making it more challenging to maintain stable footing.

Fallan’s body rams into my own, his balance lost after the first mile of our run. I’d channeled some of my energy reserves into him through our connection, worried he wouldn’t be able to make it far enough outside the city for us to hide safely. Losing too much blood, my ability to force away the ash with what energy I have left is becoming impossible. All of us go through fits of coughing, doing the best we can to force air into our lungs full of toxic debris.

“There's nothing out here!” Hunter yells, his voice scratchy from the ash coating the inside of his throat.

“We have to keep moving,” I begin, listening for the distant sound of the shouting men we thought we’d heard during our first few minutes past the ward. Now everything seems silent, only us traveling in this barren wasteland. I shove down the thoughts of my mother, my grasp on Fallan so tight I've nearly broken his skin.

“Just a mile or so more-”

Kai’s knees meet the ground, his head nearly hitting the dirt had Hunter not been so close. I reached my hand out to him, instinctively focusing on keeping him upright long enough for Hunter and Valerie to kneel next to him.

“What's wrong with him?” I question in a panic, bracing myself for the pain my knees feel once Fallan’s full weight finally sags into me.

Unable to hold his eyes open, Fallan drags me down, his blood loss too significant to keep moving. His hands clutch me tightly.

“I don't know…. He was fine,” Hunter begins. “His heart is still beating,” he says in relief. Valerie's gasps of concern slowly turn into sobs I know she’s been holding in since we left New Haven.

I try to think through my heavily crowded mind. Fallan grasps me in a weak hold, and my hands gently reach to tap his cheeks.

“Fallan, I need you to get up,” I whisper, my body leaning forward, my hair framing both of our faces. Pressing my lips to his forehead, his eyes open slightly, a small broken smile consuming his beaten features.

---