Catalyst

Chapter 37

warnings: language, violence

Chapter 37:
402 A.V; Month 11; Day 16

Coming back into consciousness I felt hands pumping against my chest, the water in my lungs. My whole body convulsed as I turned to cough out the water.

"Come on, love," Andon said, his voice near my ear, his arms wrapping around my body as I struggled to get the water out of my lungs. He was pulling me up, but I felt like lead. His voice was tense and hurried.

"We need to go. We need to get out of here!"

Finally he just lifted me to my feet. I couldn't walk. My legs were rubber and I drew in aching breaths as he half carried, half dragged me along. Everything was dark. Eventually, the feeling in my limbs came back, be it through painful tingles, as if they'd fallen asleep. I managed to put one foot in front of the other. And then I was shivering uncontrollably. I could hear Andon talking to me, encouraging me, but I didn't really comprehend anything. He got me into a building, into a stairwell. Then there was someone else approaching, helping me along, a beam of light bouncing around in my peripheral.

"She's in shock," the other voice said.

"I know," Andon said, "When we get to the room you get her clothes off, I'll...I'll figure out something."

The stairs were endless. I lost time, but when I snapped back to they were lowering me to the floor in a dark room. I vaguely recognized Storm, worried grey eyes behind his glasses reflecting light; blonde curls hanging in his face. Scowling, I wondered why the lights weren't on, but the glow of white light seemed to be coming from the floor somewhere. He got me out of my wet clothes and Andon threw him a blanket from somewhere. He wrapped me up and touched my face a minute.

"Jesus, she's still blue."

Andon was there, his hands scooping underneath my body to lift me up.

"I know," he said and carried me into the room. He buried me in more blankets and hovered. My eyes were open just enough to see. I didn't have the energy to move at that point.

"Andon," I breathed. He swooped down in and touched my face, crawled over me so he could sit on the other side of the bed.

"You're okay," he said, "We're both okay." I struggled to get my arms out because I wanted to hold him, but I gave up and just let the exhaustion take over. I let my eyes close and drifted off.

Fire surrounded us. Jamie and I sitting at the kitchen table at home. He was mending arrows, as if nothing was amiss. I was feeling the flame, the heat suffocating me, searing my skin. I yelled at him, told him to get up, we had to get out, but he looked up at me as I got up to go to him. My movements were slow, like I was stuck in molasses. He looked up then, his pale eyes almost colorless in the light of the flame.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm sorry." And then he was gone. The flame turned to water. It flooded the room, poured down around me. I couldn't get out. I was sinking, sinking so slowly and screaming for Jamie.

I woke screaming. Screaming, sweating, and disoriented. Hands were reaching out to me, but I pushed them away, still yelling incoherently, and struggled to get out of the blankets that were constricting me.

"Alloy," Andon said, repeated several times before I realized how much pain I was in. Every part of me hurt and I was crying, sobbing loudly like a wounded animal. He stayed off to the side as if afraid to touch me.

"He..." I said through sobs, "He...didn't..."

"Shhh," Andon whispered, moving close.

"I want my arms out," I said, struggling, getting frustrated. He helped me get my arms out and it didn't matter if I was naked and he was there. I wanted the blankets off.