Page 70 of Anarchy Missing

The cold hits me like a fucking punch to the chest. I draw in a gasp of air and it goes down frigid. I open my eyes and see Lulu standing over me, staring back, her eyes wide with shock, and worry, and panic.

“Oh, my God,” she says, covering her mouth with her hand. “What are you doing out here? Holy shit. You’re freezing.”

I’m fine. I try to growl it out, but I can’t. I normally sleep after the cuts. I drift away to another world. One that’s dominated by whispers so soft, they caress me, keep me safe.

The next thing I know there’s a flurry of snow and a roar from above. Lulu is screaming something. Tugging on my arms, sliding me through the puddle of tepid water that surrounds my body where snow once was.

I’m wrapped up in a drenched coat that hurts as it rubs against my skin.

“Case.”

I don’t know how much time passes, but it can’t be much. The roar is still there. I’m still outside. The puddle of water is still tepid, but cooling fast. Light leaks past my closed eyelids and I know it’s probably close to dawn.

“Case, goddammit.”

“Thomas?” This time the word comes out of my mouth instead of getting stuck in my head.

“Grab him,” Lincoln says.

They lift me, carry me. Thomas is telling Lulu to get back inside the house. He’ll call her later.

I laugh.

She’s a raging bitch back to Thomas and when I’m finally able to open my eyes, I’m not surprised to see her looking down at me from the interior of the helicopter.

“He’s awake!” Lulu yells.

Lincoln’s face is down in mine, shining a light into my eyes. I reach up, grab the little flashlight, and toss it across the cabin.

“Don’t be a dick,” Thomas says. “He’s just checking you out.”

“I’m fine,” I croak.

“Yeah,” Lincoln says, spreading my eyelid open as Thomas hands him the flashlight I just threw. He shines it right into my pupil, and I jerk my head away, reaching out for his throat so I can strangle him.

I don’t make much progress with that move. Linc just stands up and then sits down in one of the ’copter seats, glaring at me. “What the fuck were you doing out on the damn roof in the middle of a storm?”

“Do you have any idea how fucking dangerous it is to fly this helicopter in this weather?” Thomas yells over the roar of the engine and rotors. “Fucking asshole.”

I close my eyes. “I’m fine,” I insist again, raising my voice so they might have a chance of hearing me. “I would’ve been fine if you’d left me there to wake up on my own.”

I don’t—can’t—open my eyes again after that. I’m too wiped out. There’s not a chance in hell of me staying awake right now.

So I don’t bother fighting it. I just drift off, listening to the song of the city, telling me exactly what I need to do next.