Aftershock

FITZ VACKER

HE WAS SITTING AT THE dinner table the first time he heard it. Heard her. Sophie. In his head. He practically jumped out of his own skin.

Please.

It reverberated around his skull as he tried to ignore it, stabbing through his mental barriers and right to his core. It was strange, how it felt so real. It felt like she was right there next to him, talking to him. He knew it was just a figment of his imagination, still...he couldn't help but turn his head to look over his shoulder.

He mentally slapped himself for his gullibility. Elwin had told him this might happen, that he might start hearing her voice in his head at random times when something reminded him of her. But that was all it was, a hallucination. She was dead. He'd never see her again. He'd never see her walking through the halls of Foxfire. Never battle it out with her during the Ultimate Splotching Championship. Never even talk with her. Except in his head.

Fitz.

Gosh, he was really going crazy, wasn't he? Even though he knew it wasn't real, her voice filled his mind, laced with fear and panic.

Please, Fitz. I need your help. If you can follow my voice, please find me.

'But you're dead,' he thought, and he couldn't stop the pain that came with it. It felt like he couldn't breathe, like missing Sophie was a physical weight that pushed down on his chest, threatening to suffocate him if he didn't move on. If he didn't try to forget.

I'm not dead—yet. Please, they're going to kill us.

'Who, Sophie?' he thought. 'Who? Where are you?'

But there was no answer.

A violent pain ripped through his stomach, forcing him to double over with a wheeze and stealing his breath. Thinking of her dead was like a physical punch to the groin. Yep, it was definitely his imagination. He'd always had a thing for damsels in distress, and this was no different. Like Elwin had said, it was just his brain, trying to make it easier to cope with the grief of her loss.

"Fitz?" his mother asked, pulling him out of his trance. "Are you alright?"

Fitz shook his head, dispelling the echo. He had to stop imagining that she was miraculously still alive. Sophie and the Dizznee kid were dead. And there was absolutely nothing he could do to change it.

Suddenly inexplicably angry, Fitz slammed his chair back and stood with much more force than necessary. "I'll be in my room," he growled. He didn't remember what happened next. All he could remember was uncontrollable rage. Why hadn't he been there? Why had he let her leave Foxfire that day? Why hadn't he gone after her? He could have delayed her long enough that the storm would have been too bad for her to go down to the caves at all. He could have helped somehow. He could have saved her life! But now she was dead, and it was all his fault.

His rage dissipated just as quickly as it had appeared. He slumped down onto the ground and sobbed, allowing himself to lose his composure, just for a moment. He missed her. She had been his friend. He'd been the one to find her, the one to rip her away from her human family, the one to comfort her when she had to get checked by Elwin. And because he'd done that, she'd died. If he'd never found her, if he'd just left her alone once he saw her eyes, maybe she would still be alive. Maybe he wouldn't hurt this much.

For just one moment he let himself miss her, even though he didn't deserve to.

When he was done, he was so exhausted he could barely open his eyes. Stumbling blindly over to his desk, he tripped over random objects he couldn't even remember throwing. But one small purple dinosaur caught his eye. It was the tiny purple Albertosaurus she'd given him at midterms. He picked the small toy off his floor and hugged it to his chest.