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Grey’s fingers curled into his palms as they tucked against his chest. The heart-shattering sobs sounded in time with the mangy mutt’s rage.
“Grey,” Noel whispered, gripping his shoulder. “We have to g?—”
“I… can’t.” That small, broken gasp slid through him like a knife between his ribs.
“You can,” he said, scooting closer as Cy shifted from foot to foot and glanced between the two doors to the storeroom. “We’ll get out of here and fix thi?—”
Grey shook his head, another violent sob spilling out. “It’ll just be something else. There’s always something else. There’s no point,” he rasped. “It’s hopeless.”
The hollow ring to those final words made Noel cup Grey’s face and force him to look him in the eyes. Whatever spark he’d remembered seeing there back when they’d shared cookies in a quiet field had fizzled out, nowhere to be seen. He might as well have taken a punch to the gut.
He swallowed back the lump in his throat. “You promised you’d keep going for me because we’re friends, Grey.” Those selfish words tasted so wrong now—so twisted because he refused to tell him the truth like the coward he was.
“You’re better off forgetting me,” Grey whispered. Cold. Distant. Devoid of all hope and reason.
Cy dropped to a knee and pulled Noel’s hands away, his whole body numb as she forced herself between them and hissed out a series of words that he didn’t catch. The entire world was underwater, only broken by the growls and thumps of their persistent hunters. Grey’s sole good eye glazed over before Cy stood and pulled him to feet.
“We’ll talk this out later,” she said, turning to Noel and offering Grey’s hoodie-covered arm to him to take. “He’ll do whatever you say for now so we can all get the fuck out of here. We have to hurry before one of those fair folk bastards finds the other door.”
She jogged over to it and released the locks, all while Noel stared down at his grip on Grey’s wrist.
You’re better off forgetting me.
A chill worked through him as the door squealed free, and Cy snapped for him to hurry up. He charged behind her, heartbroken by the lack of resistance in Grey keeping speed with him. A husk—a hopeless husk being dragged behind as they finished this gauntlet.
Other storage pods they passed were torn apart, containers toppled over, bloody bodies collapsed over crates and under lids. His head spun as they sprinted past more rooms, weaved around feral-eyed macharomancers, and ducked through doorways half-blocked by furniture used for failed blockades. When crisp night air greeted them, the pain in his chest loosened to a stifled sob of relief.
Cy kicked the corral free to their bikes, their bags still in a heap between them, completely untouched. She gently pulled Grey’s bag strap over his head and helped him onto the back of Noel’s bike while he revved the engine. Another sudden shot of adrenaline pumped through him with the distant sound of a howl. Cy scrambled onto her motorcycle with a curse.
The feeling of Grey’s arms wrapped around him didn’t have that same reassuring grip he’d desperately wanted right now, but when Cy shot forward into the dark, Noel didn’t give himself another chance to dwell on it. He sent them into the void, past the wide berth of trees, and straight into the unforgiving wilds.
42
NOEL
Rushing water welcomed them after an hour of riding in the dark. The mist tickling Noel’s skin sent shivers through him as they crossed a small, rickety bridge and halted in front of a run-down cabin. It was closer to a shack or a shed from its stature, but it didn’t really matter when shelter was the only thing on his mind. A safe place to talk Grey down from his state of disrepair.
He followed Cy’s lead as she dismounted and abandoned her bag in favor of keeping a flashlight and knife at the ready. While she braved the depths of the cabin, Noel gently guided Grey off the motorcycle, his heart squeezing with how malleable each movement was. This wasn’t Grey. This was a puppet—a vessel in which Cy had suppressed the part Noel wanted to talk to so badly right now and reassure him that there was hope at the end of this journey.
But Grey’s head lulled forward, his sight seemingly unfocused somewhere past Noel’s shoulder to the creek.
Noel swallowed and grabbed his shoulders. “Hey,” he whispered, fighting back that tightening sensation in his throat. “If you can hear me in there, I want you to know that you don’t deserve any of this. I know you’re in pain, but I’m not giving up on you—I refuse to let you die at their hands. You deserve happiness, even if I’m…” He glanced over to the bouncing beam of light coming from the cabin, Cy’s silhouette flickering in and out of view. “Even if I’m not sure what it is you want most.” His fingers dug a little deeper into Grey’s sleeves.
Not knowing how much he might remember gnawed at him, pushing at the confession lingering in the back of his mind that would likely make things worse. He shoved the thought back down in favor of a hug, only to find it lackluster and heartbreaking when Grey didn’t reciprocate. Something that should be comforting now felt like a violation, like he was going against every wish Grey had just to keep him alive.
Was that selfish?
Was that wrong?
Noel pulled away as the creaking of steps sounded from the cabin, and Cy began her trek back through the overgrown grass. “It’s clear,” she said, hoisting up her bag. It wasn’t until he glanced over at her that he noticed the darkening circles under her eyes in the harsh glow of the flashlight’s diffused haze. She grabbed Grey’s arm. “Can you take his bag? I need to put him to sleep before I keel over.”
“Y-yeah,” Noel mumbled, quickly lifting the strap over his head before Cy led him away. The bag dipped into the grass at his feet while he stared down at where Grey had been standing. He’d saved Noel yet again, but it felt like no matter what was done to help Grey, it seemingly put him through more agony.
He squeezed the strap, biting down on his tongue until he lifted the weight onto his shoulder and grabbed his own bag to add to the burden. Noel hauled himself inside the cabin to find Grey laying on his side, eyes closed and nestled into an old, frayed quilt folded in half along the far side of the room.
Cy blocked his view as she pulled one of the bags off his shoulder. “I can keep watch for tonight if you need?—”
“We’ll both keep watch,” Noel said, still noting the discoloration in her face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
