The Cure for Sleeping

Chapter Nineteen

"And what took you so long?" Thea's hands are on her hips. She looks like she wants to throttle me, but she's pale underneath the fury. Scared.

"Don't worry about it. I'm trying not to cry. I feel like I just left Josh to die. "Listen, are you sure that you want to come with me?"

A frown creases Thea's brow and her lips part in worry.

Hazel has been kneeling on the ground, rifling through our bag, but looks up. "Did something happen to make you ask?"

I don't want to tell them about Josh right now. We need to let him go if we're leaving, and that will be easier if they're angry at him. I'll tell them later. "There was an announcement. The Insomniacs are rioting and it's a death trap out there. We can't take a car, either; there are guards at the garages. We would have to run." I face all of them. "I want to make sure that you're all certain before we leave. I have to go, I'm going to be executed here, anyway, but none of you would. We could die doing this."

No one speaks. Good. I want them to think through this, to be sure before they put their lives on the line.

Thea is the first to move. She threads her fingers through mine, long and graceful against tan skin and bitten nails. "You couldn't leave me behind if you tried."

Noah is next. He takes my other hand, his freckled palm warm and tight. "We've made it this far together, we'll finish it together."

We all look at Hazel. "It's up to you now, spymaster." 

Her hands have stilled on the straps, and her eyes flit over the ground like she's playing a hard game of chess. She's a tactician, a schemer, and she's unsure. Finally, she looks up. Her grey gaze settles over the three of us like a shroud. "I'm not saying yes because it's the best strategy. I don't know if it is. I don't know if we're all running to salvation or our deaths. But I want be with you three to find out." Hazel straps her bag to her back and stands, a warrior covered in dust like snow.

Thea grins at her, an inferno wearing a girl's skin. "All for one, one for all, as the saying goes."

I let go of their hands and look up at the sky. The watercolour swirls of pink and orange have faded to a purple haze on the horizon. "We should leave now. It's getting dark."

We make it a block and a half before the Insomniacs find us. There's no laughter this time, no errant giggles to warn us of danger. Instead, it's a howl, a snarl, and footsteps pounding around us, boxing in their prey from all sides. Noah is taking shots as we run, but only the ones hit through the head stay down. The others keep hunting, ink-dark flowers blooming against their skin.

Thea is the arrowhead of our group, an arm's reach ahead of me as she steers us. Every time she swerves to take a side route, to duck through a doorway or up a staircase a pale arm blocks her way, a pair of snapping teeth making her falter. Manhattan was the most densely populated part of New York before, and now all of its residents are out on the street. An Insomniac lunges in for me from the roof of a building, its arms reaching and black eyes as dark as mirrors. I raise my knife, but a shot goes off. The Insomniac drops, and Noah tugs me forwards. His gun is cool against my skin.

There are eight blocks between us and Central Park. Between us and safety. But with every step we take, every ragged breath, another pair of black eyes turn to us. Insomniacs leap for us, movements frantic and lurching like the old horror movies. They're tackled out of the air by their own necks ripped apart with teeth and screams cut off with drowned gurgles. Every time one reaches us, Noah and Thea raise their guns. They haven't missed yet.

A hand wraps around Hazel's wrist and tugs her away from me. I'm pivoting instantly, my knife stabbing again and again through a pale face. Blood like oil coats my hand, my shirt, but I pull Hazel back to me. We need to get off the street, now. Insomniacs are abandoning their fights for a shot at us, and we're being forced back against buildings. They aren't willing to come close enough to smother us while we still have bullets, but they're forming a wall around us, pressing us to shop windows as we keep running.