Page 78 of Into the Fire: After
FivedayssinceGail’snews, and Taryn had barely spoken a word, burning up just about every daylight hour traipsing about the city. Most of my energy went toward resisting the urge to stare at her avatar on my phone screen, milling about aimlessly from place to place.
Not so long ago, Lin had been congratulating her on an hour out of the house. This didn't feel like a victory though. It felt like retreat.
The rest of us weren’t much better. We coexisted like cacti—afraid to approach one another for fear of being stuck.
I hated it.
They hated it.
There was no short-cutting this pain, though. No over or under it. Just through.
Brooks sat beside me, his head on my shoulder and his arm linked with mine. We both rocked sweats and tees, neither of us feeling like trying to be productive in our spare time today.I guessed he was drained enough he didn’t care about getting pricked by my spikes.
“Have you had any classes on hypnosis?” he asked after a while, making me jump at the broken silence.
I nearly snorted. “No, I have not.”
“Ah,” he said, mild disappointment in his tone. “Hypnosis would be useful right now.”
“And what are you hoping to be hypnotized about?”
“I dunno,” he said as he nuzzled deeper into my shoulder. “Could make us all forget all the ways the world sucks. Or like, give us a code word and when we get too depressed, you say it, and we just fall asleep and wake up un-depressed.”
I hummed, doing my best to hold a laugh in. “Yes, all the wisest psychotherapists suggest simply shutting off your brain the moment you feel too much.”
“Who said anything about wise?” Brooks pushed himself to a seated position. “I’m about quick fixes, doll. Distraction, concussion, whatever does the trick.”
I ruffled his hair. “You,” I said as I gave a little tug, “are an idiot.”
“Pfft,” he huffed, pulling out his phone. “You’re no help.”
He scrolled silently for a few minutes, and I closed my eyes and rested my head back on the couch cushions.
A little memory wipe spell wouldn’t go amiss, actually. Just reset all of us to a time before Heath’s attack and dark web bounties and lab experimentations. Just let us all be together, and be joyful.
We could pick a fun code word, too. Lascivious. Epitome. Efficacious.
Not necessarily fun in definition, but pure delights to speak. That could be fun. Maybe we could brainstorm over dinner tonight, try to out-humor each other with our word choices.
“What the hell?”
I opened my eyes and looked to Brooks. He stared open-mouthed at his screen. I looked down at it. Taryn spoke on his screen, her voice muted and subtitles playing. At my angle, though, I couldn’t read them. “What’s wrong?”
Face grim, he tapped the video. It expanded to take up his whole screen, and the volume turned on. He started the clip over.
The opening image was a screenshot of a newspaper photo of Taryn. From a distance, from behind, from below. A shadow in a hospital gown, standing on the ledge of a skyscraper.
Taryn’s voice spoke over the image. “You may remember this article from earlier this year. A mysterious would-be jumper on top of the Phoenix Lab building in Remington City.” The video cut to Taryn’s face.
“That would-be jumper was me,” she said, eyes staring straight down the camera lens. “My name is Taryn Maddox. I am an omega. And this is a warning to any omega considering enrolling in Phoenix Labs’ clinical trials.” She leaned forward. “Their goals are not what they claim.
“My medical treatment at Phoenix Labs was nonconsensual,” she continued. “And my standing on that ledge was not due to adverse reactions. I was not delusional or suicidal. I stepped on that ledge because a researcher within that facility threatened my life, and my pack’s lives.
“The full story is honestly too long for an online video. So let me just say this: If you partake in these drug trials, you will be making not only yourself, but your children, vulnerable to abuse from Phoenix Lab and Wainwright itself.”
“Shiiiit,” Brooks muttered beneath his breath.
“I repeat,” Taryn said. “Omega, beta, or alpha—donotenroll inanyPhoenix Lab clinical trials. Or any other programs ultimately owned, commissioned, or controlled by Wainwright.”
