Page 135 of Monstrous Serpent

My head snaps up.

Atlas always has someone on the phone with him if he’s alone. Always texts someone his location and where he’s going. Been that way ever since my uncle abducted him.

“Shaw’s looking for him.”

I push to my feet and pull out my phone.

Me: Where are you

Me: Answer someone

Me: Atlas

I stare at the screen, every message unread.

“Hunter.” Mr. Jenkins stands off to the side, hands in his pockets. “Cody is asking for you.”

My feet stay planted where they are, my body refusing to move.

Reyes jerks his head toward Mr. Jenkins. “Go. I’ll let you know when we hear something.”

I nod, then follow Mr. Jenkins through the double doors.

Mr. Jenkins doesn't say much as we walk. Just leads me past the nurses' station and down a bright hallway. Monitors beep behind half-closed doors, each one at a different rhythm. Overhead pages muddle together, names and codes that mean nothing to me.

He stops outside a room near the end of the hall and looks at me. “He's a bit out of it because of the pain meds. Try to keep him calm.”

I swallow hard. “Is he paralyzed?”

“The doctor thinks the swelling around the nerves caused the loss of feeling. He expects more function to come back as the swelling goes down.”

“But they don’t know.”

Mr. Jenkins shakes his head. “Cody has a few vertebral fractures and a spinal cord concussion. We just have to wait and be there for him.” He places a hand on my chest when I move to go inside. “He’s asking for Atlas too. So, whatever you’re feeling, do better by my son than you did your friend.”

I nod, take a deep breath, then walk in.

Cody is lying flat. Completely still. A thin blanket pulled to his chest, IV taped to the back of his hand, tubes running under his nose. The heart monitor beeps next to him, steady and too loud in the quiet room.

He looks small. Smaller than I've ever seen him.

A rigid back brace sits on the chair next to the bed. I stare at it until my vision blurs, then grab the rail at the foot of the bed because my hands need something to hold.

His eyes open and find me. “Hunt?”

“Hey, Little Titan.”

“I . . . I’m not going to play again.” His bottom lip trembles, tears sliding down the side of his face and into his hairline. “Not going to walk again either.”

My gaze cuts to Mr. Jenkins.

“He hasn’t processed it. Not sure why the doctor bothered explaining anything while he was this medicated.” Mr. Jenkins moves to the side of the bed and smooths Cody’s hair back. “Bud, remember what the doctor said. The swelling has to go down first. We won’t know how quickly everything will come back until then, okay?”

I move to the other side of the bed and lay my hand on top of Cody’s.

He stares up at me, eyes wet and glassy, looking at me like I'm supposed to fix this as the monitor beeps faster. Except I can’t turn back time, can’t go back and stop that hit from happening no matter how much I want to.

“Hunt . . .”