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With every step I take toward the gate, my mind feels hazier, my chest feels tighter. I don’t know what’s getting to me…

God, the dread rolls through in waves. I have to stop before I reach the gate. I think of Breck and try to shut my mind down, but I realize that’s what Doc says not to do. I inhale deeply and try to relax, just let what happens, happen. I can see Breck, just a blurry, second-long view of his contorted face; I can almost hear low voices shouting in the Bradley.

I can feel the abject shock, the fucking horror, as I look at him and see he’s already half gone. My whole body screams out at the memory of holding Breck and looking down at him. Panic. Agony. Remorse. Shame. Blame. Rage. Desperation.

My throat locks up and I can’t seem to get it working right. I step to the gate on weak legs, my hands cold, my head spinning. I just need to get to Gwen.

Gwen…

Gwen…

I watched her so much from up on the hill before I bought the house, I know her password. I pull the door open and for once, the turmoil in my body matches the vision out in front of me.

FOURTEEN

Barrett

The bolt of terror that rips through me is so bright, it whites me out. Awareness returns and I’m on the ground beside her, clutching her limp shoulders, fumbling for her jugular.

My fingers shake… I press down…

Heartbeat.

There’s a heartbeat. Okay…

“Gwen?” My hand cups her cheek, fingertips feeling for thick, sticky liquid. “Gwennie, can you hear me?”

When she doesn’t move, my hands fly up and down her spine, over her neck, the base of her skull. When I feel nothing wrong there, I wrap one hand around the back of her head and roll her onto her side, my gut clenched, anticipating…

“Ohh.” My throat constricts and I’m worried that I’m going to be sick but, “It’s okay.” There’s nothing. No blood or…

“Okay.” Christ, I’m panting. I slide my arms beneath her, lift her up onto my lap. I can barely hold onto her, have to clench my hands around her.

“Gwen?”

Her lashes flutter and my stomach clenches hard. “Gwennie… Look at me. Open your eyes.”

She does. They roll, so all I see is white. My gaze tears up and down her, seeing no wounds.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” I stand up with her, stumbling toward the enclosure gate. I’m still well trained enough to comb the ground for footprints—and I see some. Maybe one.

I swallow hard and look down at her. “Pig, it’s Barrett. Look up at me. Let me see those pretty eyes I love so much.”

My heart clenches, because again, she does. They roll a little, but she holds on. I can see her eyes, all iris, pinpoint pupils. Fuck— “What happened, Gwennie?”

Her face crumples as she starts to cry.

I hold her tighter as my heart pounds. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”

She clutches my shirt, shaking her head. “I don’t know.” Her mouth twists, and her eyelids flutter. “I can’t see.”

My heart stops. My legs do, too. “What do you mean?” I rasp.

“Your face is blurry…”

“Did you hit your head?”

“He pushed me. That…man…” She presses her face against my chest, pulls on my shirt, and shudders, this full-body shiver that makes me hold her closer.

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