Ash and Cinder

26| Motion Sick

There's a man behind the wheel, and Delilah says something to him as she's sliding into the passenger seat.

The car lurches into motion, peeling away from the curb and making my stomach flipflop. It takes a sharp turn, and beside me Sky groans. I stare at the floor of the car and count the specks of dirt in an attempt to keep my guts inside of me.

After ages of lurches and twists that send my stomach up to my throat, we ease to a final stop. I hear the click of a latch and take that as my cue to get out. It takes two tries to find the door handle and wrestle the door open. When I do, I manage to summon enough willpower to stand up out of the car and stumble to the trunk. Delilah is nowhere to be seen, but Skyelar is waiting on the sidewalk with the palm of his hand pressed to his forehead. I stare at him a moment before bending over and puking all over the curb.

"What's wrong with him?" A voice I don't recognize asks.

"Motion sickness," says Delilah.

"What else?"

"His sister died."

I look up to see two Delilah's. One looks older and has shorter hair, this one is frowning at me. She continues to frown at me while her pale green eyes scan me up and down and up again. What does she see? There's an old bruise splashed across my face, and new bruises creeping up my arm and making my knuckles swell. My eyes are so bloodshot I can see the redness in the reflection of the car window, and I'm covered in dust from the crater. She takes this all in, then she sticks out her hand, "I'm Amiah."

"Hi," I rasp, and shake her hand.

"Come on inside before the reporters show up," she says, turning on her heels. "You guys were already live on the news this morning, it won't take long before someone sticks their head outside and sees you here."

Soon we're all situated around Amiah's table, drinking cups of some warm, oddly soothing liquid. I wouldn't be surprised, with the way Amiah was eyeballing me, if she drugged my cup. I wouldn't mind it either.

"Here." Amiah sets a stack of clothes on the table. "Shower is down the hall, you all need one." She plucks a bundle off the top and hands it to Delilah, who heads off to wash up. Amiah slides two other bundles of clothes across the table and pulls up a chair. Mumbling a thanks, I take the bundle nearest to me and set it on my lap without looking at it.

"I didn't think either of you would fit my blouses, so you'll have to make do with my ex's pajamas," Amiah says, not that any of us could possibly mind wearing pajamas. She sounds like she's joking, but I can't tell because I'm too busy staring at my cup of... whatever this is.

"I'm just glad to have a change of clothes. You have no idea how bloody long I've been wearing this shirt," Sky states, lighthearted. Amiah laughs and whatever ice might've been here before melts away. At least between them it does. I'm my own glacier, and I'm keeping it that way. I would rather not talk. Or think. Or breathe.

"Where are you from?" Amiah asks, "I meant to ask yesterday but then that whole thing about the Wind Witch came up and, you know."

"Oh yeah, yeah. I was born and raised in England, which got interrupted by, you know, evil Russian overlords. I mean, not that all Russians are evil, but the Whitecoats are" Sky trails off with a nervous chuckle. "But yeah, England."

Amiah hums in acknowledgement, "And you?" she says.

It takes Sky kicking my shins under the table for me to realize that the question was aimed at me. I glance up from my cup long enough to meet her gaze, "Nowhere."

It's technically true, my home is gone. Wiped off the map. It doesn't matter where I'm from because the island no longer exists.

"Trick was from Puerto Rico," Sky answers for me, breaking the stiff silence I caused.

"Oh," Amiah murmurs, and suddenly she has to clear the table of the empty cups. Not a moment too soon, Delilah pokes her head out the bathroom door.

"Shower's free," she says, her cheeks are pink, and she has a towel wrapped around her head. Sky pats my back.

"You go ahead. No offense mate, but you definitely need a shower more than I do," he teases, his voice is tight though, and everybody in the room picks up on it. Amiah leans on the counter, staring at me on my way past.

Amiah's small bathroom contains two big white cubes, beside them is a toilet, and beside that is a weathered bathtub. A sink with a mirror over it sits across from the cubes, and Delilah's old clothes are stacked on top of the highest cube. I strip down and add my clothes to the pile, running my hand over my face, I keep my head turned so I can't see myself in the mirror. When I turn to use the toilet, I notice a cluster of tiny glass bottles on a shelf at eye level. I pick one up. There's liquid inside, bright exit-sign red. Nail paint.

Carefully, I set the tiny bottle back in place and wipe away the fresh tears. I don't know how I'm supposed to live without her. I've spent my entire life protecting Elle, taking care of her, and now she's gone, and our parents are gone, and our home is a hole in the ground. I have no one and nowhere left to go.

I'm all alone now.

***

Later, I find myself sitting in the darkest corner of Amiah's living room. I tuck my knees up against my chest as I rock back and forth. There is a blanket made of thick fleece wrapped around my shoulders. I can't remember who put it there, I may have blacked out. I'm clean now but my skin crawls anyways and while I don't stink, I washed the dust covering up all my bruises down the drain. There's a cluster with ragged red centers up the edge of my left arm. I saw Sky eyeing them when I came out of the bathroom, I saw the wheels turning in his head and the realization dawning in his eyes.

He's pacing in the kitchen now, Delilah and Amiah are in there too, talking. I can't hear them, they're speaking in low voices. That, and my ears are ringing.

I blink, look around the room. Next to the door is a big square calendar, I'm too far away to read it. There's a saggy couch, a glass coffee table with coasters and a newstab on it, and a big window shrouded in half-closed drapes. Outside it's dark, the only light coming from a streetlamp at the edge of the front yard. I thought it was daytime, I guess that explains why it's so dark in here.

Amiah shouts, making me jump.

"Amiah—" Delilah slips into Russian, her voice is raised too, but not so much that I can hear without straining.

A moment later Sky's standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, blocking the only source of light in the house. He looks me over, grimaces, and returns to the kitchen. After that, they lower their voices again.

Oh well, didn't want to hear anymore anyways. My fingers tighten over the blanket, pulling it closer around me. My skin itches, there are gunshots exploding beside my ears.

"My name is Trick," I mouth. "I am nineteen years old. I'm a lab experiment. The Whitecoats took everything away from me."

And again.

"My name is Trick." Rock back, rock forward. "I am nineteen years old." Sky darts in, darts out. Voices drone on in the background. "I'm a lab experiment." Images of the Compound flash in my mind, the tree, the basketball court, the cells, the dome.

"The Whitecoats took everything from me." Rock back, rock forward. Images, sensations. Being dragged away from our home in the middle of the night. Fear and pain. Elle sick. Needles, testing, running, dueling. Elle held over my head like bait for a fish; 'run faster and we'll save her', 'hit harder and we'll keep her alive one more day'. I feel the blood on my face, hot and sticky. Hear bones crunching, voices screaming. Losing my mind to pain. Elle is dying. I'm in pain, I'm in pain, I'm in pain.

Puerto Rico gone. Elle stolen. Anushka falling. Chastin falling. Maverick falling.

Falling, falling, falling.

I start again.

"My name is Trick."