Page 79 of The Order

Ten seconds pass of me dangling before he finally lets me up, hauling me onto the roof and his front. I quickly roll off him, shuffling away from the edge of the roof. I hold my hands in my hair as I try to process what just happened. I begin to hyperventilate, unsure how to breathe anymore. Josh moves closer to me, glancing in the window to the guest room that’s now filled with more bodies as Officials, some that had been running detail nearby, begin to fill the room.

“Shut the fuck up and follow along,” Josh hisses, slapping my face hard, sending my thoughts away from their spiral.

“Out here!” Josh shouts, signaling the men to join us on the roof as he begins to give the best performance of his life.

Josh explains how he watched the boy jump, only to have him drag me down. Josh goes into great detail about his heroic act of pulling me up, even saying how the boy tried to attack us when an Official asked about the cut along my hand. I watch the men put the boy's chip into a small evidence bag, quietly conversing, scanning his blood with a device I don't recognize. The device beeps and displays something that makes the group of Officials disgusted. After dragging me inside, the men cleaned my wounds, questioning me if my father knew about my whereabouts tonight. For a moment, the Officials leave me alone with Josh in the room, doing their best to send students home amidst the chaos.

“You owe me big time, Blackburn,” Josh whispers harshly in my ear as the Officials signal us to leave the room.

“What happened to him?” I ask the Officials, feeling their hands pressed against my lower back as they guide me out of the home.

“A freak accident. A sporadic state of delirium when he removed his chip,” Josh’s father says. He’s already on the other line with my dad, who I know will be furious.

“Your dad says we're taking you home… now,” Adam whispers, guiding me closer to his car. I take one final look at where the boy fell.

The crimson red coating the back of his ear is the last thing I see before they drag over the white tarp, concealing him entirely from the outside world.

Chapter twenty-five

Forest

Consciousnesscomessuddenly.Myhead flies up from the concrete. There’s a pool of blood on the ground where I’d fallen. I clamp my hand down behind my ear, almost screaming when a small tendril tries to reach out and grab my finger. The chip was still there, clinging to my flesh, rejecting its destruction. The dream of the boy who’d jumped from Josh’s roof resurfaces. He’d ripped the chip clean from his head and lived. But it wasn’t a dream. It was a memory I know to be true.

“Please don’t let this kill me,” I whisper.

I grab a pillow from the outdoor couch and bite down as I grab the last remaining tendril of the chip, prying it away from behind my ear. I groan into the pillow, shaking so hard I’m afraid that I might pass out again from the pain. My scream is absorbed in the fabric between my teeth, and I can feel yet another tendril pry free from my mind. My vision is hazy, making it harder to focus my energy on tearing away the device from my head. I don't have the energy to call out for him again in my mind. All I can do is pull.

There is movement in the tree line again, followed by a pair of deep, sunken eyes reflecting from my porch's light. Considering all my blood loss, hallucinations of a Shifter are not too far-fetched. The thing watches me from afar, wincing once I let out another loud groan. Closing my eyes, I think about the night of Josh’s party again, feeling the coarse hands of Fallan as we danced and the mark of the boy running along my hand as he slipped from my grasp on the roof. My blood runs hot remembering the way the Officials hauled his body off, my mind racing through the words we exchanged. I think of the way Fallan allowed me to be near him that night, his back unscathed from my father. Does he remember that night? Why did I not remember it? How much of what I know has been planted by the “poison” in my mind the boy spoke of?

A few branches break, unsettling me fully once I open my eyes. The Shifter now stands in front of the brush, its body something out of a nightmare. Its skin is torn to shreds, barely clinging on in some areas. Where eyes once were, there are only deep, sunken pockets of nothing. It points a bony finger at me, listening to my pain.

“Free yourself, Forest Blackburn,”it says through my mind in a haunting tone.

It’s like nails on a chalkboard.

With one final tug, I feel something break away from my head, hitting the deck with a clatter. The light glows red, blinking rapidly. Letting the pillow fall from my mouth, I clutch my wound, stomping my foot onto the chip, hitting it over and over. Its tendrils stop moving when it shatters, scattering amongst the glass and blood scathing the deck. I whip my head to face the Shifter, but there’s nothing but empty space where it had been.

Nudging the sliding glass door with my elbow, I stumble into my kitchen, swiping Kai’s bottle of Cure-All from his bag resting on the counter. I lean over the sink, spraying vigorously, feeling the skin begin to close until nothing but a scar remains. My front and hands are covered in a bloody mess, my motions clumsy from the blood loss.

Everything around me is unbearably loud, like a curtain being lifted from a screen. I feel the flood of emotions threaten to spill from me. With a drag of my mother's last, clean kitchen towel, I quietly rummage beneath the cabinets, grabbing the small spray bottle filled with bleach. I shove my brother's Cure-All into my pocket and rush back outside to the back deck. In a rush, I dump the bottle of bleach out, and wipe away any trace of my blood, watching the deck's wood lose color with each drag of the kitchen towel.

Kicking away the shards of glass and metal, I watch them fall off the edge of the deck and into my rag. I straighten my mother’s pillows. My hand is unable to run through my hair, tangled in bloody knots. I shove the proof of what I'd done tonight in my pocket, giving the door handle one last rub with my shirt before locking the door and tossing my father’s ID back on the counter where he left it. I run my brother's vile of Cure-All under the water, slipping it back into his bag once it is clean. Slowly, I back away from the sliding glass door, darting into the bathroom the first chance I get.

I turn on the shower and strip away my clothes, forcing them into the trash bin. Grabbing the bag with a heave, I quickly tie its end shut. Finally switching on the light, I stare at my ghost of a reflection in the mirror. My neck still has bruises, mostly faded but noticeable if close enough. The underneath of both my eyes are dark, leaving me more tired than awake. My skin is pallid, hugging me like I am nothing but skin and bones, a grotesque reminder of my frailty. I can smell my blood coating me, feeling my hair brush my lower back as the steam from the running shower makes sweat drip down my face. I rub my fingers along the skin behind my ear, and despite how the rest of my body feels, I smile at finding nothing there but my flesh.

“I had no choice,” I whisper, wiping away the steam from the mirror to get a closer look at my eyes. “I had to do this,” I finish, backing away from the mirror. I no longer have the energy to try and speak to Fallan. And given how much alcohol he had, there is no point in trying to get answers from him right now.

I finally make my way into the shower and let my body linger under the running water, watching my blood paint the shower tiles in swirls of red. I stand there transfixed until all of it is washed away and the water runs clear.

I force on the hoodie from the memory, running my fingers along the space where there was once an alcohol stain. The hoodie was shoved far back in my dresser; I’d done an impressive job making sure no one found it. Leaving my hair in a braid, I force the hood up and go back to the bathroom to coat my neck in as much concealer as I can.

I cram the bag of bloodied clothes and glass beneath my bed, keeping my clock unplugged as I pull on a pair of black leisure pants. I force my feet into boots, strapping my blade to my side beneath the hoodie. Glancing at my watch, it reads 5:00 am. Early enough, no one will be up and ready to question why I’m dressed oddly. I quickly move out of my room, silently shutting my door and glancing around at the still house. Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I check every single area I was in last night for any sign of blood I might have missed. I hike up the bag on my shoulder, unsure of where to go or how I will get there.

Shoving past the sliding glass door, I find myself back on the porch, rubbing my throat while observing the beaten camera. Following along the balcony steps, my legs bring me back to where the Shifter stood when watching me. There are no scorch marks or claw marks on the tree, making me question the validity of that interaction. I crouch down to the ground, running my fingers along the small layer of ash between the blades of grass. A crunch behind me has me grabbing my blade. I turn on my heels to meet my brother's confused expression. He holds up his hands, watching me roll my eyes at him as I tuck the weapon away.

“Good morning to you too, crazy,” Kai says, crossing his arms. “Why are you dressed like that?” he questions, moving to lower my hood from my head. I grab his wrist, stopping him before it can reveal the bruises around my neck.

“I'm trying something new,” I say, hearing the gravel in my voice. My throat is still stiff, and the swelling makes it hard for me to steady my tone.

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