The Survivors: Point of Origin (book 2)

Duel, pt. 2

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE YOU DOING BACK THERE?” I SCREAMED, thrusting my hands at Everett’s chest as we spilled out onto the streets of Manhattan. It was nearly eleven o’clock, but there were people everywhere, and they were staring. “You had no right to bust in on him like that.”

“I wasn’t busting in on him, Sadie; I was busting in on you!” Everett said plainly. Just like his father, his even tone in response to my fury fueled my fire.

I yelled. “You could have killed him!”

He reached for my elbow and pulled me toward him, whispering into my ear, “You think you could try calming down? You’re scaring the humans, sweetheart.”

In a huff, I walked in front of them, immensely frustrated by the waves of people and stoplights that halted my forward movement. The three of them stalked half a block behind me for three short blocks before I stopped. The cold night air swirled around me. We had passed hundreds of people in just the few blocks we’d walked. It was unfair to make them follow me through the crowded streets this way.

In Ginny’s mind, I could not only hear her thoughts but feel her thirst, and worse, the tension and battle for control inside of her every time an unsuspecting New Yorker stepped in front of her or slammed into her on the packed city sidewalks.

I turned around to face them, waiting for them to catch up. Everett’s eyes were closed tight, and he was wincing as if in pain. Ginny had stopped breathing, and she had her left arm wrapped around her waist, her right hand to her mouth, literally chewing on her index finger. Mark was staring at the ground. Their desire was simply too much to control. If I had eight million minds invading mine, they had eight million heartbeats taunting them.

“Let’s get a cab,” I said.

Thank you, Ginny said, clearly embarrassed.

I hailed a cab, and the three of them piled into the backseat. I rode

in the front, trusting only myself to be this close to the driver, though it was only denial that made me believe that the thin, plastic divider between the front and back seats would protect him from the Winters. “Fifty-ninth and Fifth,” I said.

Where are we going? Ginny asked.

Central Park, I answered.

Isn’t that supposed to be dangerous at night? she asked.

You’re worried? I asked. She laughed. It was the first remotely happy sound I’d heard out of any of them since before I blacked out the night before.

As we drove with a heavy silence between us, the low foreign chatter on the driver’s radio lining my ears, I was surprised when I heard Everett’s mind. I don’t want trouble, he said.

I turned around to look at him. “Then you shouldn’t start it,” I said.

Am I entirely to blame for this? he asked. I didn’t respond. It is impossible for you to see any situation from any perspective other than your own. Why is that? he asked, his mental voice more hostile now. I didn’t say anything back.

The cab let us out where I’d asked, a block from Central Park. I knew it was entirely unsafe for humans to be in there at night, but I was hoping we’d run into so few that it may be the only place on Manhattan where the Winters could think clearly. We walked deep into the park, away from the roads and open areas until we were in the more forested parts.

“Are we going anywhere in particular?” Mark finally asked.

“Feel like you’re going to kill someone in the next ten seconds?” “No.” he said.

“Then we’re done wandering,” I said, stopping.

“Thank you so much for getting us off the street, Sadie. It was too much to handle,” Ginny said. She hugged me tight. “I’m sorry this happened this way. We were just so scared.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you where I was going,” I said, shrugging out of her arms. “But you never would have let me go if I had told you.”

“Of course we wouldn’t have!” Everett barked. “Why don’t you get this? You are going to get yourself killed!”

“Why do you all of a sudden think you can make my decisions for me?” I asked. I didn’t want to fight with him, but he was being ridicu- lous. “It’s not your job.”

“Bullshit it’s not. Remember I told you I’d fight for your life because I knew you never would?” he said, genuinely hurt. Of course, I remembered when he said that. It was that night we returned to the Survivors after Moscow. He had promised exactly that. “I was serious then. I’m serious now. I will protect you whether you like it or not.”

“You want to control me.”

“I want to love you. There’s a difference,” he said. He dropped his voice and stepped toward me. “I’m sorry for the way I acted last night, but that Montana winter is getting to me. I’ll keep it in check, and I’ll never yell at you again,” he said.

“Yes you will,” I said. His face creased, disheartened as I said this, so I clarified, because I apparently only ever said the wrong thing. I reached for the gold key around my neck and held it up. “If forever means forever, then of course you’ll yell at me again. I’ll yell at you. We’ll be normal-ish.”

Suddenly, his eyes filled with emotion. He nodded that I was acknowledging the future he believed we were going to have. The stress of our situations made this tough for both of us, I knew. We didn’t want to be mad, but were these the kind of things to just let go of?

Mark cleared his throat. “We love you, too, for the record,” he said softly.

“And so you’re stuck with us looking out for you, too,” Ginny added.

“Yeah, little one, because like Everett said, you’d never do it for yourself,” Mark said. “’Cause you’re a little, you know,” he said, making the sounded of a cuckoo clock and spinning a finger next to his ear.

I smiled in spite of myself and smacked Mark’s arm. Ginny and Everett laughed. I was uneasy, then, not sure if it was right to have shifted moods with my anger still so heavy in my throat.

“I don’t know that we’re done talking about all this,” I said.

“Oh, we’re not,” Everett said, “but I don’t really want to get into it anymore tonight. It’s been a hell of a day.” I nodded even though, until this, my day had been lovely.

“We should book a flight, I guess,” I said, settling my feet back in reality.

“Actually, we don’t need one...” Mark wore his most smug grin.

“Or we have one,” Ginny added, “however you’d like to think of it.”

“I’m missing something,” I said.

“Just here to treat you like a princess, is all,” Everett smiled. He slid his phone out of his pocket and made a call. “Hey, yeah. We’re coming now. Can you pick us up? Yeah. There’s fine. Thanks,” he said.

“Want to fill me in?” I asked.

“Come along for the ride,” Everett said. He took off running through the park.