Overexposed

transiens tutum

Chapter 14: transiens tutum

A crow’s caw erupts from somewhere nearby, but the devil bird itself is consumed in a cloudy darkness.

Its shriek echoes around, making it impossible to clearly pinpoint the place of origin, leaving me spinning around, searching for a place to run. Pure terror takes over and all I can hear is the sound of flapping wings, the sensation of black feathers caressing my skin creating whispers that are all encompassing.

I’m left trembling, unable to move.

Why can’t I see?

My brain says it’s smoke, but I can’t smell anything and I’m able to breathe perfectly fine. Yet there it is, the familiar sound of crackling fire.

I somehow find the courage to open my eyes again and abruptly, the wings disappear, the cawing ceases, and I’m confronted with the scene of the burning warehouse.

Gia and Tess sit in front of it and once again I am reliving the moment I saw the former girl die.

“Wait!” I want scream, but nothing leaves my mouth. 

Instead, in slow motion, Tess raises her gun and I am forced to look right into Gia’s eyes as she mouths the words I had been unable to decipher last time. But now?

It’s a low mumble. I can’t hear it over the fire, but she’s saying something that sounds like “sir.”

Sir?

Suddenly, I’m blinded, deafened, and know that Gia is dead. In a vociferous explosion of crow cackling and wing fluttering, I am lifted from sleep in a light sheen of cold sweat, panting.

It was a dream, all a dream. You’re okay, Ozzie, you’re fine.

My heart rate is high and I try to calm down, squeezing my eyes closed and listening to the REAL sounds around me. I can hear Haz’s steady breathing as he sleeps and try desperately to synchronize our inhales and exhales.

If I can act calm, I WILL be calm, but I need something to hold onto.

“Haz?” I reach out slowly. I can’t see much as it’s still dark outside and there’s a crude set of shades that block out any light that had a chance at coming in. My eyes and limbs are heavy, but I still strain to find him.

My companion lets out an acknowledging hum, a low, tired, but happy sound.

My finger tips find part of his body, which part I’m not exactly sure, but his skin is warm in contrast to the chill that has settled over my frame. This contact alone is enough to pull me away from the dream, though I still insist he wakes up, “Haz-”

“Harry.”

My eyebrows knit, “What?”

“My name… is Harry,” he corrects in a whisper, making a strange mixture of warmth and shock spread through my chest, replacing the fear completely.

I am finally able to identify the part of his anatomy I’ve found. Antebrachial, likely his left. I concentrate on this, namely because I think I’ve stopped breathing. Harry? His name, his REAL name?

A while ago, Haz said he would tell me eventually, after I passed some sort of final test. Had he really meant sex? Or is this a joke? I thought it would have had something to do with training me to fight- but could he have been THIS immature about it?

He answers my internal question almost immediately.

“I wanted to tell you because now I know your name, Brooke,” the smirk is clear in his voice.