Page 80 of The Order

No amount of Cure-All could have completely fixed the damage from the force of the hold Fallan’s friend had around my neck last night.

“You sound like shit,” Kai says, touching my forehead, checking for a cold.

“I'm fine,” I say, swatting away his hand, “I snored too much last night,” I clarify, hoping that's enough to satisfy his curiosity.

“Did you see that some asshole broke our porch camera last night?” Kai questions, expecting me to have an over-the-top reaction. I stay silent, leaning over to observe the tangled wires protruding from the side of our house.

“Good. I hated that thing anyways,” I say, turning from him, sulking away, moving closer to the forestry behind the house and the ward that cuts our access to it off.

I step behind the forest line, running my hand along the ward, sensing Kai following me.

“Is there a reason you seem so off, or should I blame it on yesterday?” Kai questions, tapping the back of my head.

“I slept like shit.”

It's not entirely a lie, but it's far from the truth.

I keep staring forward, pushing harder and harder on the invisible divider keeping us away from the ash-ridden world. Kai’s hand reaches around my arm, stopping me from taking another step.

“What-”

“What are those?” Kai questions, pointing down at the ground.

I look down beneath my foot, moving away my heel to unveil the massive prints etched into the mud of the earth. Unknowingly, Kai looks at the impression of a Shifter for a second time, becoming just as curious as he did the first time he saw one at the Academy the day after movie night. I frown, watching him genuinely believe this is his first time seeing the prints. I stare at his chip with newfound hate, unsure why I ever allowed something so vile to take up residency in my head.

“Would you believe me if I said they are Shifter tracks?” I question jokingly to see what he might remember.

Regardless of my desire to keep it on, I needed to lower my hood to get a better look at the scorched greenery surrounding the prints. Unlike the first set of tracks I saw at the Academy, these are larger. From here, I can now tell it lingered only a few feet from where I had been in a pool of my own blood, which begs the question – if it loves Marked blood so profoundly, why didn’t it attack me?

“Holy shit!” Kai says, reaching out to touch the sensitive spot on my neck. I immediately slap away his hand, darting my eyes at his dumbfounded expression. “Are thosehickeys?” Kai questions, smiling like an idiot. “Is that why you’re acting so off?”

Oh, how I wish that were the case.

I force a half-assed smile, rummaging through my bag for any sign of my sketchbook to quickly document this new finding. My hand finds nothing but scattered odds and ends. I pry the bag open to get a better look. Where there was once a massive sketchbook filled with drawings I’d rather keep to myself, there is now nothing.

It’s gone.

"Did you grab my bag after I had my seizure?"

"Yes, it was almost trampled by everyone trying to get a look at you. Are you avoiding my questions?"

I rise from my crouched position, ignoring Kai’s questions. I run my mind through all the possibilities of where it could have gone, hitting a dead end each time I try to come up with an answer.

“So, you are ignoring me?” Kai questions, keeping up with me in long strides.

“I’m going downtown for a new sketchbook to draw those prints. I’m sure you can find some schoolwork to keep yourself preoccupied,” I say, hoping he takes the hint to stay behind.

“And miss out on the opportunity of questioning you about your late-night activities?” Kai says, poking my neck with a smile. “Never,” he finishes, looking satisfied with his response.

We follow along the side of the ward, not once passing an Official or citizen, given how dense the forestry can get. After Kai's eighth attempt at dragging my hood down, I finally decided to leave it down around my neck, but not before twisting his arm behind his back, which satisfied my irritation with him and this situation at some level.

His curiosity is justified, but in many ways, I barely have answers for myself.

“You don’t think those were Shifter tracks…. Do you?” he questions.

I sigh, angered by the fact that he doesn’t remember seeing those tracks before because his mind had been wiped clean, just like mine was supposed to be.

“What would you do if they were real?” I question, watching him think of his response.

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