Of Frost & Cinder (Old Version)

Aftermath

Chapter Twenty

We drive.

We keep driving until I feel the exhaustion barrel over me with destructive force.

A cold sweat sweeps down my neck and I already know what's coming before I croak out a warning to Beck. He protests at first, the look on his face painted with worry.  I must look like a ghost; after one quick glance, he seems to understand what I need. He veers to the right, pulling the car into an alleyway between a gas station and a crumbling studio.

I scramble from the door before we come to a  full stop and dive behind the closest barricade. I crouch behind the foul-smelling dumpster just in time for the familiar silver tar to come spilling out of my mouth.

Over the noise of my hacking, I hear a car door slam in the distance. Then the crunch of boots on frozen asphalt.  Beck is now behind me, his hands scooping up bits of my silver-tipped hair into a bun atop my head.

My blood is on fire, drumming between my ears as I continue to throw up. I'm so dizzy that I have to lean against the dumpster for support, even with Beck's hands on my sides to keep me steady.  I swear I hear something sizzle when my skin meets metal.

"Why is this still happening?" I whisper to myself, but Beck takes this as an indication to pull me onto my feet.

"You done?" He looks as annoyed as he sounds.

"Sorry for the inconvenience." I spit out any remnant of the metallic saliva gathering on my tongue. "I'll remember to choke it down next time."

Beck doesn't flinch. "We' gotta keep moving."

"Seriously, can I have just a minute?" I shouldn't feel like this.  I'm not sure what I'm supposed to feel, but I know it shouldn't be like this. Something feels off, wrong in a sense.

Beck groans. "I don't think you get what the hell just happened-what we just did. We need to put as much distance between us and the Elite as possible...and fast."

I wipe my mouth on the back of my sleeve before following him out of the alley. "Why? They won't know to look for us."

"The moment they catch our scents, we're dead." Beck says with blunt delivery. "You still don't get it, do you? They're dangerous, relentless. They will hunt us and then they'll kill us. But first, they'll torture us. They'll pry from us any information that will give them the upper hand."

Something dismal flickers behind the ice in his eyes when he quiets. I can't shake the feeling that the Elite have done this before. Whether it was a direct experience or Beck only bared witness, I'm can't tell.

"It's not like we're unprotected. You're a wolf and I'm a...pyro, apparently."

"Kill or be killed." He sneers.

Whether he means to or not, I'm flooded with a rush of guilt. Does he think I intentionally set out to kill his brother?

"Well, at least we don't have to worry about Tripp or Boyd coming after us. I am a bit nervous about Val, though."

Beck snorts as if I made a joke.

"Tripp isn't dead," he says. His calm delivery is as chilling as his breath, as it billows in puffs of opaque air, rising like smoke under the streetlamp.

"But you snapped his neck?" I sound as stunned as I feel. "What about Boyd?"

He pauses a moment, as if to collect his thoughts, and then sighs. "I'm not sure about Boyd."

"Please don't tell me immortality is a thing because I'm seriously going to question your vampire theory."

An artery in his neck threatens to burst as Beck clenches down on his teeth; his jaw acting as the gate between his composure and rage. He doesn't have to say what he's thinking. Vampires are not real is written all over his face.