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“You’re my mule,” I whisper again. Goodness fills me, soft and warm and right as rain.
EIGHT
BARRETT
“Barrett?”
The clear, sharp voice is out of place. It doesn’t go with what I’m seeing: Gwen’s small body, crumpled, her hair spread around her head, her blood leaking on the roadside. I hear my name a few more times, but it’s just background noise. I’m consumed with what is wrong with Gwen. I’ve got this feeling I should know, but my brain’s sluggish. I don’t understand. How did she get here? Her face is white and slack. Her lips are stained with dark liquid that drips out of the corner of her mouth and down her throat, into the snow.
I drop down beside her, but my knees sink into the warm puddle of blood, and I have to turn away. My stomach lurches. I cup my hand over my mouth. After a second struggling to shut my stomach down, I remind myself that I’m an Operator—and this is Gwen; I love her! Then I put my hands under her hips and shoulders and lift her.
As I pull her onto my lap, warmth spills over my lap. My throat constricts.
“Oh God…” My hands loosen their grip on her. I almost drop her; then I hold her to my chest and sob.
“Gwen…oh God… Oh God, oh please…”
“Barrett—I’m okay.” The voice is distant: background noise.
Our bodies shake together. “Oh my God…Breck. Gwen…”
“Bear… Baby. It’s me—it’s Gwenna. Open your eyes, baby… Look at me.”
I’m looking up at Gwen. Relief transforms her features as she clasps my cheeks and pulls my face toward her.
I wrap my arms around her.
“Bear…that’s right.” I feel her hand stroke my cheek, feel her rocking me. I blink around. The lights…
“That’s right.” Her voice is a thick whisper. “You see the lights?”
I hear her, see them, but…the snow. I smell the salt and I can feel the blood and Ly and Mom and Breck…all dead. I feel myself shaking, am aware some distant somewhere that Gwen’s arms are around me. I’m shaking…and trying not lose it.
“It’s okay....”
I blink and realize I’m lying in Gwen’s lap with my arms around myself. One hand is clutching my face. Shaking…
I try to think of something I can tell her, but my mind feels stuck. Oh, fuck. Freaking out like this…
I told myself I wouldn’t—
I frown up at her. She looks…fine.
A shiver moves through my shoulders. Her face blurs, so I can’t tell if she is…
“Gwen?”
Her eyes are gentle. “Barrett?” Her arms pull me closer. I close my eyes and grit my teeth and try to breathe. It’s all still there—the things that blow me open…and the blood…and…
“Come here… Let’s lay down.” She does, and I half fall on her.
I wince, trying to shift back on my arms so I’m not lying right on her.
“It’s okay,” she whispers, holding me against her.
I can’t stop the flow of tears. Can’t forget what I saw. I can see the blood on her mouth. I cut my eyes so I can see her face—she’s lying on the pillow—searching for the damage that I fear will be there...
I find her brows are drawn together. Her hand cups my cheek as she searches my face.
