Page 4 of Uncontrolled

“Don’t you trust me?” I ask and instantly regret it. Though she gives me a sharp nod, her lips press into a line. I take the lead again, navigating our way through the undergrowth.

As we break through onto the twenty square feet of sandy riverfront, she jerks hard on my hand. “Christopher?” she says. “Are you sure about this?”

Confused, I round on her, see the fear I missed while I was leading us here. She’s not noticing the sun glimmering on the water, or how the moss and even the algae near the creek’s edge give everything a fairytale vibrancy of green. Her head swivels, her focus darting to the path before returning, warily, to me.

How many lies have you told this girl? How many times have you broken her trust, the voice starts in again, Jamison’s voice. You lured her to a secluded spot. She’s figuring out she’s in danger.

This is the start of countless true crime documentaries.

“It’s okay that I brought you here, right?” I ask.

“Of course.” She raises a hand and presses it against my chest as she moves closer to me. She’s concentrating on the ribbon of overgrown trail. “What’re you talking about?” she asks, her attention locked on the dense foliage.

My throat goes thick. I know why she battles me in her nightmares. I’m the bad guy. Even now she’s checking for the best exit.

This was stupid, I think. She’s still got her hand pressed over my heart. I take her fingers and entwine them with mine. The action’s enough to drag her focus to me. “Allie, I—”

“Did you hear that?” she interrupts, her words clipped. And then, she twists fully, her back to me.

I scan the woods. “There’s nothing there,” I tell her.

I’m watching closer now. Watching her hands, one hovering at her waist, near the holstered knife. The other has been on me since we stopped. Allie’s a fighter. Her resurrectionist cluster raised her to protect herself. She wouldn’t leave herself vulnerable if she thought I was the threat.

“You’re not afraid of me.” I’m so surprised, I say it out loud.

She whips toward me, confused at my relief. “Of course not!” She softens as my tension dissolves. “Why would you think I’m afraid of you?”

“Allie,” I whisper. I lean forward, too scared of her reaction. Her lips are stiff with surprise when I meet them, but then she melts into the kiss. Her fingers clutch my shirt as she tugs me closer.

“What’s gotten into you?” she asks, a laugh buried in the question as she throws her arms around my neck. “You’re being totally weird today!”

Before I can gather my courage, her mouth presses hard against mine, hungry. Her scent is in my lungs. Her fingers stroke the nape of my neck and then her lips are at my throat and I’m lost in the sensation. My breath stalls. My entire body buzzes to get closer to her, take her in, make her mine. We kiss there beside the river before she sighs contentedly and leans against me, her chin propped against my chest.

I run my fingers through a few strands of hair that slipped loose from her ponytail. “What’s got your nerves so shot?”

The joy slips from her. I hate how I know I have to question her now, when she feels vulnerable, for a chance at an answer. If we make it to the apartment, she’ll have those walls rebuilt.

She licks her lips. At the shoreline, the ripples lap quietly. “Before Sarah…” She winces and trails off. “Because of my parents…” They, too, were murdered because of the blood, the gene. She raises a hand to wipe her forehead. Her nose scrunches before she blurts, “I don’t want to resurrect anymore.”

She swallows hard, like she’s dropped some sort of epic bombshell. I’m not sure how to respond. After a long second, she starts to pace, her steps crushing the tall grass at the creek’s edge.

“Every second of every day I wonder how my life is going to get worse,” she says. “On the next call, will I resurrect a child and then charge the parents enough to take the food out of their mouths? Or maybe the job is a trap? Am I being watched? Will my next mistake end with me gutted? Then again,” she says, holding her palm up. “I miss a call, no one else is close? It’s my fault that person stays dead.”

She bends to grab a stone and then fires it across the surface of the water. It skips twice and disappears. “It’s exhausting,” she says. “Every decision I make ends up wrong.”

“That’s not true,” I break in if only to comfort her.

She hugs herself, watching the wide creek as it burbles past. “When I moved to Fissure’s Whipp, I told Sarah I was out. Talia knows, but she expects I’ll come around. I mean, I’m supposed to be in charge of the cluster now. People are depending on me.” She pauses and then she deflates. “Honestly, I’m ridiculous to fight it. I need the money.” Her hopeless eyes meet mine. “But I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“Then don’t! We’re good,” I promise. We’ve been searching for jobs. “How many applications have we put in? Ten each? Twenty? More?”

“Not enough,” she insists. “Not in time.” As she trudges toward the embankment, I catch her and spin her roughly to me.

“In time for what?”

Allie’s silent for a long beat. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “I think I screwed us both.”

She licks her lips, hesitating.

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