US (Formerly The After Effect - Book 2)

15 - S P L I T

as promised//

The second the force field clears, I rip away from my mother's grasp and throw my hand up, forcing Zeriah and Brink to stumble off their feet and collapse onto their backs. Over. And over. And over. I blast them with my strikes until near unconsciousness and dash toward Travis once I know they won't get up again. I flip him over to see his face, splattered in blood from forehead to chin. He's crying out and cursing loudly, keeping his eyes closed.

He's still...alive.

I scan Travis over, wondering where the hell the bright red blood originates, but I can't find any source on the front of him besides minor scrapes. That's when I realize he's gripping the back of his neck with one hand, pressing his fingers into the wound just under his hairline.

Exactly where the microchips are inserted.

"Let go! Let go and let me see, Travis!" I shout at him over his yelling so he hears me.

"Fuck!" he screeches as I pry his fingers from the gouge about an inch deep into his skin. It's clear that Brink's handiwork with the blade was somewhat clean, but the stringy flesh surrounding the incision speaks otherwise. Travis's clawing at it has made it far worse.

I interlock my fingers around his neck and draw him into my bouncing chest. "I thought you—I'm—I'm so glad you're okay." I bend down and kiss his temple, wetting my lips with specks of blood.

"Those fuckers—" he starts, and is ready to erupt, but I keep him pinned. I'm not letting him move or go near anyone until he—both of us—calm down, and I can confirm he's alright. Still, I can't help but turn to glare at the ones responsible for his injuries.

Brink and Zeriah are helping each other to their feet, mumbling something about my power before meeting my devilish eyes.

"How dare you," I growl at them, but refocus my attention back on Travis. Who cares about them right now? Certainly not me. Travis's body beneath my hands trembles with rage, his chest thumping up and down erratically.

"It fucking stings," he curses again. "Hurts like a—"

"Shh." I place my finger over his pressed lips and dip my head down to touch his forehead with mine. "I know," I say. "I'm so sorry."

Still heated, he ferociously mumbles, "I don't get to magically heal like your asses do. Remember that as I strangle—" Travis pushes against me to rise to his feet, but I snatch his wrist and yank him back from the other guys. As I do, I watch his blood trail down to his back and seep into his cotton tee. It gives me chills to watch him bleed.

My mom is the first to ask the question everyone else has been holding their breath to hear. "Who's going to explain this?" She crosses the yard and joins me at Travis's side. I watch as she tugs the collar of his shirt down and examines the damage. "He's sliced right open!" she gasps and meets my eyes with her frightened ones. "Are you okay, honey?" she questions Travis.

"Fine," he says through his teeth, not bothering to meet my mother's concerned gaze. His eyes are locked on Brink, who stands, huffing and puffing next to Zeriah. I can tell they're both disoriented, giving Travis a fight he could probably win, but I'm not going to let physical fighting begin between the two of them, though it might be good to let their frustrations out in each other.

Stella enters the ring with her gloves on, ready to defend what just occurred—or so I'm assuming. I need an explanation fast, before I go after Brink and Zeriah again.

First she saunters over to the other crippled Five. She whispers a few things to them—which adds to my already boiling blood, but I say nothing and just wait. I watch as she checks their skulls over and then tip their chins up and analyze who knows what. Travis is shaking on my left, ready to attack any second. You'd think it was just us and them here with how quiet our little camp has become.