The Skylar Experiment : The "X" in Apex

Chapter Thirty-Nine - D-Day

On D-day, I watched the sunrise through my window, wondering how I'd endure school without suffering a panic attack. I hadn't slept at all. Luc, Ben and Devin looked as cool as cucumbers.

They seemed to spend more effort making sure I wouldn't lose my sanity. Just this once, I had lunch with them off-campus and told my friends I had a doctor's appointment.

We went over each detail again, then I felt my faith was restored.

Luc drove me to his place to wait. I'd warned Dad that I planned to sleep at Emma's, so he wouldn't be a hurdle. It was sunny out, warm for late autumn, which was favorable for us. As soon as the engine stopped, Luc popped out and I followed him to the open trunk.

Or rather his oh-shit supply closet.

"Things you will need to carry on you," he began, stretching and rummaging through a black plastic bag. The first item was an orange flare gun, then a fully-charged headlamp to slide over my beanie. It looked like I'd be exploring a cave, Indiana Jones style.

I was handed a backpack with first aid, another flare and water. I should get used to this—this endless supply of goodies.

"In case you're cut off from Amelia..." He dragged out a safe and entered a quick combination. "Here."

Oh.

Another pistol was staring at me.

The classic Glock, but a slightly bigger model with night sights. I picked it off the support foam, checked the safety and waved it around. Baby was loaded. "Decked like this, you're sure I can't go down there and help?"

"No. I'm telling your daddy you hold guns like this."

"Sure, and let him know why you were giving me one." I grinned to his dismay.

He frowned, a bag handle in each hand. "You're absurdly chipper with gearing up for tonight."

In part, I was as eager as the bunch of them to get it over with. And then I needed to take responsibility for what happened.

I didn't want to make a wrong move and let him sniff out my queasiness, considering he disapproved of everything. "I'm just ready."

Luc took it for what it's worth. "There's also a whistle and knife in the front pocket—for cutting your finger."

"Like chum for the sharks," I said and mimed a slash to the throat.

The frown deepened. He tossed the bag into a corner and leaned over the trunk. "I hate that you're doing this."

I breathed in, enduring the creeping heat on my face.

"You once said that not everyone gets what they want, not even you."

"Yeah, I'm aware. I just expected some honesty coming from Little Miss Trust." The trunk slammed shut, and he made for the winding staircase before I could work any answer.

▲▲▲

I wasn't hungry but managed to nap on one half of the couch. It was pitch black through the bay window when I cracked my eyes open, and the fire was spitting in the hearth. He sat on the rug within its glow, elbows on his knees.

A crystal bowl of mini candy bars had materialized on the coffee table.

"Happy Halloween."

"Did you wait for me?" There were no wrappers near him. I quietly slipped off the cushions and joined him at arm's length, bowl in my lap.