Page 41 of Pulse Zero
“Reese,” I choke, dropping to my knees beside him.
My hands press against his chest, like if I apply enough pressure, I can reverse what just happened. My palms slide in blood. It’s hot. It’s everywhere. It’s on his shirt, on my skin, on the floor.
“No, no, no, no—”
The words tumble out, useless and frantic. My cheeks are wet, and Reese’s face swims in a blur of tears.
“Stay with me,” I manage to push out past a sob. “Stay with me, okay?”
His eyes find mine, and that’s worse.
He’s still here. He’s still in there.
But I don’t know for how long.
“You don’t get to die. You hear me? You—”
Hands grab me.
I fight.
I don’t even know who they belong to, just that they’re pulling me away from him. I claw at the floor, at his shirt, at anything I can reach.
“No! Get off!”
Someone shouts. More footsteps. Boots. Voices overlapping.
“Clear the area.”
“Target down.”
“Get him out of here.”
Target.
They’re talking about him.
They’re talking about Reese as if he’s not a person.
He’snot the enemy. As far as I’m concerned, the men dragging me away from him are the enemy.
“I’m not leaving him!” My screams shred my throat. “Let me go! He needs—”
I don’t even know what he needs. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to fix anything.
They wrench me backward so hard my shoulders pop. I try to pry their hands away, smearing Reese’s blood everywhere. I try to dig my heels into the floor, but I’m barefoot and shaking and weak from nearly a month of captivity.
“Reese!”
His gaze never leaves mine, and that’s what will ruin me. Not the blood, not the gunshot.
His eyes.
Silver like the bullet that took him away from me.
I think I see my name on his lips, then someone blocks my view.
The world, which had felt slow and stretched for weeks, suddenly snaps forward like someone hit a button on the remote. Too many hands on me. Too much shouting. Too-bright lights. More gunshots, maybe. Or maybe it’s just my ears still ringing.
