Cy and Zack shared a room—so I’d find Cy and, if not, call Mick. But Cy, still surrounded by several girls, was talking with Braden. Shoving my way past drunken oblivious people, I finally reached my bandmates. At first, Braden had a smile on his face but it faded when he realized I was distressed. I said, “Something’s wrong with Zack.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know that girl he was hanging out with? She said he’s sick.”
“Sick how?” Cy asked.
“I don’t know, but she looked like she was scared shitless.”
“So where is he?” Braden asked.
“She said he’s in his room. Can I borrow your card, Cy?”
“No, ‘cause I’m going too.”
Without another word, the three of us were heading through the crowded room toward the exit. Once we were in the first floor hallway of the hotel and the doors closed behind us, it was as if we were in another world—peaceful, serene, and only the muted notes of a party that sounded as if it were a suburban block away.
The elevator ride was tense and none of us were talking—until we exited. Cy said, “She didn’t say anything else?”
“She said she was afraid of getting arrested or something and she bolted.”
Soon, Cy was inserting his card into the slot and, when the mechanism clicked and the little light turned green, he turned the knob and the three of us rushed in.
Nothing in the room seemed amiss. Their luggage was still sitting near the door and all the lights were on. There was a glass half full of either vodka or water across the room, but I was sure it was alcohol.
The bathroom door was half closed and Cy tapped on it. “Zack, you in there?” When there was no response, he opened the door—and there was our friend, sprawled out on the floor, half slumped against the wall. “Jesus Christ.”
We all crammed inside, getting close. Zack looked so pale, I was afraid maybe he was dead and a brief thought flickered through my mind that if he was, I wouldn’t rest until I found that side-boob bitch and killed her.
But Braden said, “He’s breathing.”
“Barely.”
I let out a slow breath as relief flooded my veins. “Zack?” I asked, hoping he’d open his eyes. “Zack?” I grabbed his hand, cool to the touch and clammy. “Zack!”
Cy got close to his face and gently tapped on his cheek. “Wake up, man.”
“I’m callin’ 911,” Braden said, standing, pulling his phone out of his pocket and walking out of the room.
Cy kept trying to wake Zack up but to no avail. “That’s a good idea.”
“What’s that?” I asked, pointing at something near the bathtub while already knowing what it might have been.
Cy leaned over, picking up a spoon and a blue bandana. “Probably heroin.”
Fuck.“Should we call Mick?”
“Yeah. Why don’t you do it? He likes you better than us guys.”
That was bullshit but now wasn’t the time to argue about something stupid like that. So I got my phone out of my pocket. “Will you stay here with him?”
“Yeah.”
“Zack, hang in there, okay?” I begged him, not knowing if he could actually hear me or not. Then I stood, realizing for the first time that tears were streaming down my cheeks.Get your shit together, Dani.I wouldn’t be able to help him if I was losing it. Walking out of the bathroom, I looked at Braden beside the door, but he was immersed in his own phone call. I moved to the other side of the room beside the table with the drink.
On the third ring, Mick answered. “This better be good, kid.”
“Uh…yeah. Um, we think Zack took some heroin and maybe overdosed? He’s not moving or waking up.”
