“I’ll be right there with you,” I promised. “Now, can I borrow your truck?”
Nico,Jonah, and I pierced the ground with our shovels. We needed to fill the three dozen large buckets we picked up at Rainwood’s in less than an hour. December stayed behind at the inn with Octavia and Wilson, promising to slow down Octavia’s exit if it came to it.
December
She’s threatening to steal a car if I don’t take her back in the RV. I’ll disconnect all the car batteries in the lot.
I’m sure she knows how to reconnect something like that.
Well, I’ll do it again and again until we look like the Looney Tunes and you guys get back.
It’s a decent enough joke to lighten the weight on my shoulders. But the reprieve lasted only a couple of seconds. We were in the furthest corner of Alpine’s cemetery, digging up dry dirt and coughing between the clouds of dust. Three of my nails had broken, and one bled at the cuticle. I urged myself forward, powering through the lactic acid collecting in my arms and legs and the pulsing pain in my ankle. It was getting worse the more I stood on it.
Every time a shovelful of dirt hit the cold metal of the buckets, I was buried underneath thoughts of how I couldn’t figure out where to lead everyone from here. Even with Daylan’s help, we were wayward. And I would have to make the next big call.
This wasn’t some spirit in need of guidance to a long, peaceful sleep. I’d have to figure out how to not look like this change didn’t make me want to cower in a corner. The highway sign out of town had been the most tempting thingever. I could have turned left instead of right into the cemetery. Disappeared. And even entertaining the thought of a retreat triggered the self-loathing that had me avoiding my reflection at all costs.
You’re scared. It’s pathetic how scared you are.
“RJ?” Nico was a million miles away.
I opted for more distance between us, whispering a quick, “Keep going. One sec.”
My feet carried me to a nearby mausoleum coated in vines and algae. I ducked behind the wall, releasing breakfast into a collection of thorny bushes. Dry heaving came next, the muscles lining my stomach cramping with each involuntary clench. The sulfur from last night burned in my lungs. The sound of glass from the truck lights shattered repeatedly in my mind. That dark cloud that followed us up the elm tree on the hilltop clung to my throat this time.
A breathless Nico and Jonah appeared behind me. Nico moved closer, not put off by my undoing. He reached for the braid that’d fallen out of its pin, holding it out of my overreaction. It’s a carbon copy moment from the nights we used to sneak beer from our parents’ stash. I was weak enough to wish for those days again, too. Days when people told me what to do and when to do it.
And you thought you were cut out for leadership? Damn, Octavia was right; it was a lovely gimmick. So lovely, you even tricked yourself.
I was dangerous. Being in charge and being this unsteady was dangerous.
Jonah crouched, elbows on his knees, as he offered company from a few feet away. When there was finally a substantive gap in my dry heaving, he asked, “Was it the bird?”
“The…bird…?” I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, throat burning from the bile and shame. I wasn't supposed to be losing myself in front of the rookie who’d looked up to me.
“There was a baby bird’s skeleton?—"
Jonah didn’t get to finish before I leaned over again, coughing up air.
“Let’s keep additional sad things to a minimum.” Nico rubbed my back.
“Sorry,” Jonah murmured.
I gasped for air, each attempt somehow pulling me further from the finish line.
“Hey,” Jonah tried. Nico gave a warning grunt. Jonah shook his head, holding up a hand. “It’s not about the bird.”
“Better not be,” Nico murmured.
“Rae,” Jonah said gently. He inched closer, crouching in front of me this time. I could barely focus on him with the world spinning. “Is it your blood sugar?”
I pressed a hand to my CGM. “No.”
“Then breathing’s just hard because…” Jonah paused for me to fill in the blank, but I had nothing more to offer outside of labored breath.
“I used to have panic attacks at the academy,” he said. “They’re scary. And always took me by surprise.”
My pounding heart drowned out most of his words. I paid close attention to the shape of his mouth to follow what he said.
