Whoa. Where had—
“Tell us what happened, Miss Bell,” Mr. Ankh said, and I realized Cole hadn’t been talking to me.
I peered beyond his shoulder. Or tried to. The darkness was too thick to penetrate.
“Am I blind?” I shrieked.
“What?” Cole said. “No. Of course not. If you’re having trouble seeing, it’s because your eyes are a little swollen from the smoke and we put some salve on them. Don’t worry. You’ll heal.”
Okay. Okay, then. “I have to call the coffee shop. Tell them I won’t be in.”
“Already taken care of,” Cole said. “I told them you’d been in an accident.”
“Nana—”
“Knows you’re alive and well. I’ve stayed in contact with her and told her I’d try to have you home by eleven.”
“What time is it?”
“Eight.”
Three more hours; then I’d go home. Could I keep it together?
“Miss Bell,” Mr. Ankh prompted.
I still wasn’t his biggest fan, but the story poured out of me. I told him about Dr. Bendari. I told him about the photos and what I’d learned about my condition and the antidote. I told him about Justin and his sister. About the shooter, and the two drivers, and the chase through the forest.
I wished I could see his face, judge his expression.
“We found the photos in your pack,” he said. “The others must have burned in the fire.”
Some were better than none. “Which ones did I grab?”
“One of Justin’s sister. Four of an Anima facility, and two of a computer screen with a formula they used for what I’m guessing is an improvement on the antidote.”
Not a bad haul.
Mr. Holland cleared his throat, alerting me to his presence. “The shooter Cole brought in escaped his cage in this facility—the dungeon—and we have no idea how. He was weakened from blood loss. We don’t think he could have survived for long out on his own without medical attention, but to our knowledge no dead bodies have been found. He could still be out there.”
What Mr. Holland was trying to say without panicking me: the guy could still be after me. Just then, in the safety of the room, I didn’t care.
“Now I’m going to check your eyes,” Mr. Ankh said.
Footsteps. He gently wiped my eyes with a tissue, then flashed a muted light in front of my face. “I don’t understand—ah, there we go. You’re finally responding.” As he continued to shine that light, the darkness began to thin at last.
“It’s getting better already,” I said.
“Good. We ran some more tests and found your antizombie toxin is significantly lower.”
“The new antidote helped, then.”
“New?”
“There are vials of it in my pack.”
“I’ll take one and see if I can replicate it. I’ll send the others home with you.”
“Thank you.”
He stepped back, and Cole stepped forward. Our eyes locked, violet against blue. Need against... I wasn’t sure what I was projecting at him. We—
—were standing in my bedroom. His expression was tortured, even sad, as he aimed a crossbow at my chest.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Cole—”
—We were back inside Mr. Ankh’s basement dungeon.
I blinked in surprise. Nothing had distracted us or gotten in our way, the usual reasons for a vision to end. This one had stopped all on its own.
Because he’d shot me and I’d died? Whatever. At least we’d had one. That meant a part of me was back to normal. I was better.
How long would it last, though?
Apparently I was going to do something so terrible Cole would feel his only recourse was to kill me. I couldn’t even process that.
“I have no plans to aim my crossbow at you,” he said tightly. “I won’t. Ever.”
I nodded. Really, what could I say?
That wasn’t good enough for him. “You had to be right before. The visions have to mean something else.”
I really, really hoped so.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Trust me. Please.”
The very words I’d once—four times?—given him. “Okay,” I said, and he exhaled with relief. I just didn’t have room for another worry.
“Cole, call Justin and tell him to come by,” Mr. Holland said. “I need to tell him about his sister.”
I looked and found him standing beside the curtain separating my “room” from the others.
“I’ll tell him.” My pronouncement was quickly met with inquiring glances. “I know what it’s like to lose your family. And I know you guys do, too,” I added in a rush. They’d all lost someone in the war. “But with me, the loss is fresh. Jaclyn was his twin, and he loved her more than he loved himself. I felt the same way about Emma.”
Mr. Ankh sighed. “Very well.”
Cole made the call.
It wasn’t long before Mr. Holland was escorting Justin to my bedside. He sat down opposite Cole, his expression closed off. He had no idea why he was here. My chin trembled as I said, “Justin, I met with a man named Dr. Bendari.”
He nodded. “You’ve mentioned him before.”
“Yes. He was...he was killed in front of me.” Tears streamed down my cheeks, burning, leaving track marks, I was sure.
Justin softened. “I’m sorry.”
“Before he died, he told me that your sister—”
With a pained groan, he jumped up, the chair skidding behind him. “I know. Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.”
“You know?” Cole asked.
Justin closed his eyes, drew in a shaky breath. But that was it, his only reaction. And yet my heart broke for him. I knew what he was doing, because I’d done the same thing. I’d boxed up my grief and shoved it deep, deep inside.
He would feel better for a little while. Then, one day, someone would come along and say something, or he would see something, and the box would begin to open. All of those negative emotions would come pouring out, and he’d be helpless to stop them. He would break down.
“The leader, Mr. K, showed me pictures.”
“Mr. K?” Mr. Holland said. “What does the K stand for?”
“I don’t know. It’s all anyone ever calls him.” He lifted his chin. “Mr. K told me you were responsible, and it was my job to exact revenge. But I couldn’t kill you, he said. Just had to spy on you.” He offered us a cold smile. “He didn’t realize I knew you better than that and knew you’d never hurt my sister—that he was responsible. So I’ve given him information, but nothing damaging. Just enough to make him think I’m playing his game.”