Page 120 of So Thirsty

“The Sampoong Department Store collapse,” I say, sitting beside her. “South Korea, 1995, I think? Lazy builders. Greedy executives. There were structural issues that went ignored. Didn’t want to close and lose revenue, even when there were huge cracks in the ceiling. And then, yeah. Five hundred people died. More than that injured.”

“In-…in-…inspiring,” Naomi says, pointing to the crumbling escalator.

“That was a department store, technically not a mall. I don’t know. I don’t know.” I peel her coat back. She was right. She is bleeding. Dark, thick, strange blood. For the first time since I was bitten, since I was changed, the sight of blood doesn’t make me thirsty. It makes me nauseous.

“They found…those two bodies…at Pompeii,” she says. “The lovers.”

“Maybe they were just friends.”

She smiles. “Best friends?”

“Yeah. Or they were together but not exclusive, and then at the last minute it was like, well, fuck it.”

“Don’t…make…me laugh,” she says. “Imagine. Not that…into each other…but it’s…the end…of the world…”

“Yeah,” I say. “Nay, maybe I should—”

“Maybe they…were having…an Armageddon bang.”

“Naomi, are you, um…Should I…?”

She shakes her head. “Give me…a minute.”

“Okay,” I say, wiping my hands on my shirt before I touch her, sweep her hair out of her face. “You’re going to be fine.”

“We should have…spent more time…together.”

“Maybe they’ll find us. Henry, Ilie…Maybe they’ve been following. They’ll know what to do….”

She looks up. “Is that…a carousel? Definitely…the dream mall.”

She writhes in anguish. She’s leaking. There’s blood on the floor.

“Naomi. You need blood. You need—”

“It’s okay, hoss,” she says, smiling. “My time’s up.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Just…promise me…you’ll live. Drink…smoke…fuck…fuck up…live.”

“Don’t say that! Stop. Just stop talking like that. I can’t do this without you. If you go, I—”

“You should…be with…your prince. The way you…look at…each other…he’s so into…you. He…must be…smart,” she says. There’s no color left in her. She’s withering away right in front of me.

“You don’t get it. I can’t survive a minute without you. Not a second.”

“I’m not…I’m not…afraid…anymore. It’s…okay.”

“I am! Nay…” I get an idea. I push my sleeve up. “Bite me.”

“R-r-…rude.”

“Seriously. Bite me. Drink from me. Take my blood,” I say. “I bit Ms. Alice. It’s possible. I think—I think we can take from each other. Give to each other. It won’t taste good, but—”

“I…don’t…have it in me…. I’m…tired….”

“We have to try to do something! Please.” I lower my wrist to her lips. “Please. Please…”