The Survivors Trilogy

BOOK ONE || CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

I come to slowly, to a bright white light piercing into my eyes like tiny daggers.

I have no idea where I am. I have no clue how long I've been unconscious. I don't even know if I'm still alive. It would probably be less painful if I wasn't alive. It would probably be best for everyone if I wasn't alive. I'm more trouble than I'm worth.

The last thing I remember was watching Kyle slowly pass away in my arms and being dragged away from him by a Shadow. I remember being slashed across the back before I blacked out.

My back suddenly explodes in pain, reminding me that I'm still alive, and I lurch forward. The pain secretly tells me that I can still survive, that I can keep going. But I sometimes don't want to. I just... I can't any more.

Something forcefully pushes me back down, on what I can only assume is a bed. I don't know who it was that pushed me down, and I don't really want to find out. I hardly want to be here. I can't stop the pained feeling in my heart, my stomach, my head.

Kyle flashes across my vision, repeatedly being stabbed by that one Shadow who fell down when I shot the arrow in his back, his body jerking uncontrollably.

The realization hits me all too soon.

I killed that Shadow.

I killed him.

I didn't know his name. I didn't even know if it was a male or female. I didn't know if he or she had a family, had friends, had people that loved and cared for him or her.

But then I remember he or she didn't know us, didn't know our names. This person killed Kyle. Killed him. People that kill for no reason don't deserve to live.

Kyle shouldn't have died—no one should die.

Something catches in my throat, and I don't know what it is; maybe it's the tears that are threatening to spill, maybe it's just air.

But it still doesn't feel good.

The figure to my left moves over to look at something on, or near my face, and I don't have any power within me to turn away, to raise my hand to wave them away from me.

He, she, shines something in my eyes, and this time I actually do turn to the other side, trying to lift my hand up in the air to get them away from me, but to no avail.

"Xander?"

The voice sounds so familiar. So much like home, it makes new tears swell in my eyes. My immediate thought is Vicky, but then I think otherwise—it was too deep of a voice. I want to respond to the voice, but my mouth can't move; I can't form sentences to say out loud to myself or to anyone.

"Xander, please turn back around."

I oblige because I know this voice. The voice is soft, is kind, doesn't have any anger in it at all.

The light shines in my eyes, and I resist the urge to move, to shut my eyes, to run away—

But I can't.

Drew's ash blond hair and dark, dark brown eyes come into view, and I have to blink a few times to make sure he's really there, really crouched down beside me.

"Drew?" My voice sounds hoarse, so unlike me; so unlike... anything.

"It's me, buddy. It's me," he replies, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

My gaze travels across the room, and they land on the people who I never thought I would see again.

Adam and Tessa step up next to Drew, and I squint at them to avoid the bright light.