Wet. Thick. Slick.
Everywhere.
It shouldn’t be. Shouldn’t be.
Red wiggles in front of me.
On … my fingers. My fingers.
I stare at them, hypnotized for an instant.
I’m back. I’m back in control!
My body shakes. I fall to my knees and discover that Oso is on the floor, dark blood staining his shirt, turning it crimson at a staggering speed as its fibers soak his life away.
A voice rings, saying the same thing over and over again.
“No. No. No. No …” My lips are moving and I think the voice is mine.
A shadow falls over me. I recoil, too weak and lost to fight the agent anymore. My head turns toward the door, functioning on muscle memory alone. It’s not the agent. There’s someone standing by the door.
James.
I try to say his name, but my mouth won’t obey and just keeps saying no.
His storm gray eyes go from my hands to the knife on the floor to Oso’s immobile shape. Next I know, James disappears. A blur hits me. I fly across the room and land in a heap. My head spins. I blink and see James kneeling by Oso.
“Oso, big guy,” James says, fingers pressed to his friend’s throat.
The agitated pumping of James’s chest stops as he tries to get a pulse. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. He inhales deeply and shakes his head. Trembling, he closes his eyes and lowers his chin. After a heavy moment, his gaze swivels to mine in slow motion. Hatred twists his features into a horrifying grimace.
In the next instant, he’s on top of me, his large hands wrapped around my neck, squeezing. My throat closes with the pressure. Saliva pools in my mouth. Time stretches, painting everything a vivid shade of red. Blood seems to slide down the edges of my vision: the life of an innocent man. Oso’s life, a waste that will forever remind me of my failures. Did he have a family? Have I left a child without her father? I don’t even know that. I don’t want to know that.
Tears gather in my eyes and I think that I deserve to die. That this death James will give me is cleaner than any other I might have encountered so far, cleaner than the one I deserve, anyway.
I’m torn between the instinct to fight and the justice in letting James kill me. Then I realize my body has already decided and my blood-streaked hands are wrapped around his wrists, battling to pry him off. But he’s strong. His modified skeleton and muscles are no match for my ordinary human body.
Just die, Marci.
No one
will
miss
you.
My hands fall to the side. I give up. For good.
I’d decided to live for Xave, because he believed in me. But, it turns out, he was wrong. I’m not strong. I’m nothing like he imagined. In a world with no real hardships, it’s easy to pretend you’re all-mighty and able to withstand whatever crap life throws your way. But this grisly reality is more than I can take. It has true fangs and claws. It has ripped off my façade, exposing the weak girl that I’ve always been; the silly girl who thought herself special, worth all the things a mother, a brother, a boyfriend, and a few friends had to offer.
God, I never knew what I had and now it’s all gone.
Gone.
My lungs ache. My neck feels like a desiccated branch ready to snap in two. I’m limp in utter surrender.
Looking into James’s eyes, I beg for forgiveness. His intense gaze falters. Doubt enters his expression, dissolving a measure of his hatred. The grip around my neck eases a fraction as indecision and determination seem to battle within him.
Marci, he would never kill.
The creature that killed Oso, on the other hand, he would gladly asphyxiate a thousand times over. I know he thinks I’m lost, trapped inside this body, but I wonder if he thinks there’s still hope for me.
Whatever the case, he shouldn’t stop.
I give him what he needs to help him make up his mind. I bare my teeth like an animal and attempt a growl through my constricted throat.
All doubt is erased from his expression, but his previous fury and determination don’t return. Instead, pity and regret take their place. Regardless, his hands tighten once more. Agony cinches around my throat as his large fingers dig harder and harder into me. A strangled sound gurgles through my mouth.
James’s eyes waver. A tear rolls down his cheek. He knows he’s doing me a favor, but it isn’t easy. We’ve all become murderers, directly or indirectly, justified or unjustified. The parasite in my brain has no business being there and doesn’t deserve to live. James is right to do this. If I was still under the agent’s control with no hope of return, I wouldn’t want to live—not after I failed Oso. And even now, as I’ve risen from the shadows, James is still right. I shouldn’t be allowed to go on. So I don’t struggle, even as tears streak his cheeks, even as my nails dig into the carpet and I stifle the instinct to fight.
My lungs scream for oxygen. My legs twitch as if electrified. A heavy fog falls over my eyes, obscuring everything. The world fades away and, for the first time in forever, I get a glimpse of peace, an end to the pain and loneliness. I can finally let go.
Images of a happy past flash across my mind. Dad twirling me around. Mom laughing. Xave holding my hand. A smile stretches over my lips. This isn’t so bad after all.
Strange, distant sounds interrupt the calm. The happiness is cut off as excruciating pain returns. I’m lying on my side, sputtering. Wheezing and sucking in air like gulps of water. My neck throbs in sync with my heartbeat. The room tips and I start to slide.
I’m suddenly on my feet. Someone shakes me.
“Where the hell did he go?”
Spittle sprays my face. My head lolls. I blink my eyes open and stare into a pair of curved tusks dripping with slime.
“He was just right here.” Tusks lets go of me and whirls around the room. “Find him!” He bellows. Hurried steps sound outside the room.
I sway, then drop to the floor with a thud, arms limp, head dangling like a wilted plant.
“At least you were good for something,” Tusks says, gesturing toward Oso. “I thought they’d all gotten away.” He kicks the fallen body in the ribs.
Possessed by ire, I try to stand, to tackle the beast away from my friend, to stop him from defiling one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met. I lurch forward, then fall on my face, an insult stuck in my aching throat. Tusks frowns, regarding me as if I’m the most useless creature he’s ever known.
“Should have let that traitor kill you.” He spits the words out. “Now I have to haul you back. You might still be useful, though I doubt it.”
He stomps out of the room. “Bring her! Whitehouse will want a report and will probably want her back.”
Tigress and Dillon walk in the room. I look up. Their shapes blur into one.
I’m going back when all I want to do is die.