The Cure for Sleeping

Chapter Eighteen

"I never meant to sell you out. I was angry with all of you, and Caroline was asking questions, so I told her. I–" He stabs his fingers through his hair, pacing around the room. I stiffen when we moves closer, and he backs off. "We shouldn't be here. Not in the cell, not in Haven, not in the apocalypse. We should be heading to college, trying out fake IDs, going to parties, being fucking teenagers. Instead, we're tied to the tracks with the train coming. Jesus, we're just kids."

I watch him fidget until he notices my stare and stills. I say each word clearly. "Hazel is a kid, Josh, and she's dealing a hell of a lot better than you are."

"You and I both know that Hazel is the exception to the rule."

"And yet, she didn't screw me over. She didn't waltz into my prison cell and expect me to absolve her of her crimes. You got yourself into this mess, and now you can deal with the consequences."

Josh closes his eyes, massaging the back of his neck. "You would have me haunted by your ghost?"

I stand up suddenly, the bed creaking in my absence. "You know what? If I die because of this, it's on you. You can't talk your way out of that, and I won't let you. My blood will be on your hands. Now, leave."

Josh opens his blue, blue eyes, pleading. "Avery, please–"

I tug my boot off and throw it at his head. He ducks easily. "Jesus, Josh! Just get out!"

With a look befitting a scolded dog, he backs out of the room, the door sliding shut behind him. He watches me through the glass for a moment, then turns away, talking to one of the guards. He leaves.

I'm trying to sleep, tossing and turning on my cold cot when I hear the announcement. It jars me awake, and my eyes fly open. I sit up on the mattress as the message repeats.

The city has been lost. All survivors are to report to Central Park immediately for evacuation. The city will be cleared at midnight tonight. All survivors must evacuate. The city has been lost...

It's a pleasant voice, feminine and clear. Her words carry no trace of panic, and remind me off the cool tones of an air hostess. Please fasten your seat-belts, and adjust your seat to the upright position. The city has been lost.

The announcement repeats, over and over again, it's coming through speakers in my cell, but I can hear echoes of it outside, throughout the rest of the building. I can hear footsteps pounding down the halls.

When the message finally stops, it plays through my head like a song on repeat. The city has been lost.

How very vague. Is the woman referring to only New York? Is it being broadcast elsewhere? By the sounds of panic outside my cell, it's obvious that this isn't Haven's doing. Their just as confused as I am, though they have a little more space to take out their emotions. I can sit on my bed and pick through the message. I can also sit on the floor.

I don't like the sound of the city will be cleared at midnight. It's more than a little ominous, even in the women's cultured voice. I can't see whoever is left entering the city. It seems like a risk that they wouldn't take, sweeping the street for anyone left alive. I'm not sure that I would take it. So, we're not being rescued. What, then?

My dinner doesn't arrive when my stomach starts growling. They usually bring me my meals at a regular time, after everyone else has eaten. I get up off of the bed, my untied boots trailing laces. I peek through the glass door, and see no one. I'm unguarded.

Not that it does me much good. I spent hours at the start of my captivity attacking the door, and I have bruises all down my side as proof.

And yet.