Maybe I’m ill too.
Maybe I’m confusing illness for untreated epilepsy.
Whoever watches us on the field don’t care if we’re diseased. They’re waiting for people to die—to save time and resources.
Everyone sleeps so hard at night that I don’t think anyone has noticed the nocturnal seizures I endure. However, the weakness growing in my limbs from lack of rest, and the bite marks on my tongue—I do my best to hide.
Though, I have no doubt others will notice when the big one comes for me.
It always does.
And without warning.
I rush to my feet only to be stopped within a line of over two hundred men waiting to exit the barrack. There isn’t enough space for us to line up in here and as usual, my nose is pressed to the head of the man standing in front of me. The nose of the man behind me pokes my right shoulder. Body odor. Smoke. Waste. Sick. The outside air doesn’t move between us, only ourhot breath. If I wasn’t pinned between two people, I might fall. I could be thankful for this moment.
We inch outside in one long line, forced to walk behind the other barracks toward the locked gate. Every space within the compound is gated in, a maze of prison cells.
After a minute of sticking to the tight line, small spaces break between us, giving us the freedom to move our feet out of rhythm.
The crunch of gravel grinding into stone, crackles loudly as if it’s happening inside my ears.
“Stefan!” I blink, clenching my eyes shut and shake my head. “Over here.”
Rosalie. She calls out in a whisper coated with just enough sound to recognize her voice. I hold my head steady as I peer to each side of me, searching for her across the empty gravel.
Where is she? I can only see so far with the line in front of and behind me.
A cool hand touches my wrist and before I look down, I’m yanked from the line. It’s her hand. I know her hand. I know her touch. My focus can’t keep up with how fast we’re moving, but the blur of her auburn hair swaying between her shoulders is enough to keep my eyes on.
Behind a block, away from the line, out of order, she stands in front of me, staring up with her mischievous eyes, powdery blue, glistening beneath the sun. She holds her index finger to her lips. “I’ve missed you so,” she whispers. “I just needed a moment—one little moment?—”
She loops her arms around my neck and kisses me as if she needs every bit of air left in my lungs. “I need you,” I utter to her lips. “I need you so much. I’m not going to make it. I feel it inside. My body is giving up on me.”
“Your body isn’t giving up on you. It’s testing you. You’re stronger than this. You always have been. Remember who you are.”
“I know who we are. I know. But can we run away? Far away from here. To find my family and to never let go of each other. Never again.”
“Stefan,” Rosalie says, her head dipping to the side. “You know we can’t escape. We must survive. Then we can do all the rest.” She presses her hands to my cheeks, the scent of rose and vanilla warming my insides. “We have to survive. For your parents. Eloise and Benjamin, and us. We have more life to live with them.” Her words echo between my ears. My heart pounds, screaming for her to come closer.
“I need you,” I cry out, trying to keep my voice low.
“You must go back before they notice you’re gone. I’ll be here. Everything will be all right.” Her smile. It’s believable. I’d never question her smile. Her beautiful smile.
I shake my head, my brain flutters like it’s floating in water. “Please, don’t leave…” I beg.
A fist thrusts into my back, hard, unforgiving and all at once. Air escapes my lungs, leaving my chest empty.
Fingernails pinch into my flesh. “Get up. Get up. You’re going to get yourself shot,” a man grumbles in my ear, his spit flecks along my neck. His other hand clenches around the back of my neck as he sets me straight as if I’m walking on wheels.
The earth slopes.
A uniform’s stripes bend and smear.
“Move.” Another voice snaps.Authority. Threat.
Another hand shoves into my shoulder pushing me through the open gate that will spill us out onto the field.
I peek over my shoulder, looking for Rosalie. Looking to see where she’s gone, but I only see the line of men behind me. I know what’s happening. Rosalie was an epileptic hallucination.An aura—my mind bending and breaking before my body betrays me.
