The Day the Sky Fell

Chapter Eleven

Beck's closet full of alien paraphernalia felt ten times smaller with three people inside, even if one of them was a child. As I came back into the moment, pulling myself from the memory of earlier today, I found Kelsey trying to wrap her apron around my leg. Cassian was saying something—I knew he was—but my brain seemed to shut off. I couldn't understand any of what he said. Kelsey had leaned me against the far wall, directly opposite from the closet door, and it totally took on my weight. I had no idea how I wasn't falling over, succumbing to the weight of gravity.

My body jerked as Kelsey tried to tighten the ties of her apron firmer around my leg, trying to stop all the blood that was seeping out. I watched her almost numbly, watching as her red palms slicked over my bare leg. She glanced up at me, eyes wide. "When is he coming?" she asked.

I felt my forehead crease—that was practically the only thing I could feel. My word was practically a gasp. "Who?"

"Your boyfriend," Cassian said at my side. "The one who is going to save us. Who's in the military. Who's an alien."

"What?" Kelsey's head whipped over. "He's an alien?"

"Long story," I breathed, swallowing even though it was hard. "He's coming."

"When?"

I had no idea, truthfully. None. But I did know, judging by the amount of blood seeping onto the floor, that when he came, it would be too late. And would he get here before the others did? Cassian said two men were coming—maybe one of them was him. But even if it was, what good would it do? I was...I was dying.

Kelsey was moving jerkily, scuttling across the floor, slipping on the blood. I couldn't figure out why she was moving so fast, so panicked, why she was grabbing at Cassian. It took all that I could to focus on my breathing, on how shallow it was, to force it to keep going. In, out—in, out.

And then I realized why she'd freaked out—the door to the closet shuddered, hard enough that I felt the vibrations through the floor. I watched the doorknob shake as it tried to open.

And then it did.

The wooden door opened so hard and so fast that it smacked into the wall, leaving a hole where the doorknob collided with the drywall. For a long beat, I couldn't tear my eyes from that hole, from what Beck would've said if he saw it. And then my heart jumped—was it Beck? Was he here? Did he come in time?

But when my eyes slid over to the door, I did find a familiar face.

Just not Beck's.

Two men stood in the doorway of the closet, one standing just over the shoulder of the other. The leader, though, stood tall, hands in his pockets, a slow smile forming on his face as he realized who sat before him. This time, though, no sunglasses sat on his nose. "Jonas," Jev drawled. "You're looking a little different than you did an hour ago."

An hour ago, an hour ago. Had everything really only happened an hour ago? My mouth was dry—too dry to form a coherent response. I could barely see straight, let alone form the right words.

Jev, though, seemed to enjoy the sound of his own voice. "Well, who are these two?" he asked, crouching down in the doorway. His eyes lingered on Cassian. "Is this Mrs. Michaels's little boy?"

"Get away from him," I got out through gritted teeth, a spike of anxiety coursing through me. I reached a hand out, noticing a bright redness. The entire surface of my palms were scorched red, almost blistering. I couldn't feel the pain, though, and that was a bad thing. But this was different than how I reacted before to this substance—but this was a higher dose. It took me a few days to get sick before, properly sick. If this was a higher dose, this would happen sooner. A lot sooner.