Stephen flinched.It was a small movement, almost controlled.But it was there.
It wasn’t enough; the antenna lashed diagonally from his forehead across his cheekbone.In the instant after the antenna lifted again, the skin was white from the pressure, broken only by a trickle of blood.
Jem brought his arm back for another blow, already moving in.Stephen would be off balance.Stephen would be surprised.He’d take another step back instinctively, and when Jem struck again, he’d turn, maybe fall—
Stephen didn’t step back.
Stephen stepped forward, inside Jem’s reach.Too close.Where the antenna was useless.
Jem tried to stop, but his momentum carried him forward.Stephen’s face hadn’t changed except for the set of his jaw.Blood ran down his cheek where the skin had split.He grabbed Jem’s sweatshirt, twisted at the hips, and hauled Jem off his feet.Jem flipped over Stephen’s outstretched leg and landed hard on his back.The impact drove the breath from his lungs.His vision fuzzed.
A long way off, Tean was yelling.
Jem wasn’t sure how much time passed before he could see again.Stephen stood over him.He was much bigger now.Blood ran down to drip from his chin.A knife fell into his hand like a magic trick, and gravity swung the blade open.Sunlight rippled along the steel like fire.
Jem still couldn’t breathe.It was like the well again.The snow on his face.The snow filling his lungs.
Stephen crouched.With one hand, he grabbed Jem’s hair and yanked his head back.With the other, he pressed the blade against Jem’s throat.
Someone turned up the volume on the world.
“—don’t hurt him!”Tean shouted.
“The papers,” Stephen said.
“You can have them,” Tean said.“Leave him alone, please!You can have whatever you want.”
The blade was steady against Jem’s throat.
Then it lifted.
Coughing, Jem tried to suck in air.A little made its way into his lungs.
The rustle of plastic was followed by the soft sound of something hitting the bed.Stephen reached over Jem to grab it.When he stepped back, he was holding the plastic bag full of documents.
“Don’t try to follow me,” Stephen said.
“We won’t,” Tean said.
The door opened.
But it didn’t close.
Stephen’s voice was lower when he said, “I had a good thing going.Use your brains: why would I fuck it up?”
Then the door crashed shut.
31
“You should be lying down,” Tean said.“What if he cracked a vertebra?”
Jem shook his head.He was upright, but only barely, and he stood with one shoulder canted.He was breathing again, which was the main thing.There had been a moment after he’d hit the floor when his face had gone white—a combination of disorientation and lack of oxygen and the sympathetic nervous system trying to go into overdrive—and he didn’t look much better now.
Tean tried to help him walk as they made their way down the hall, but Jem shook him off.He paused next to the alcove with the ice machine long enough to drop the key card.The poor woman inside was still cleaning up their mess.
“Let’s go back to our room,” Tean said.
Jem shook his head.
