Cacee swallowed a low sob and, when Ray shone the light on the, pulled away from Jess with relief. She did her best to remain detached as she cleaned Jess's hands and taped them up. When she finished, she saw that Ray managed to put clean socks and shoes on him. The expression on Jess's face made it obvious he hated taking Ray's help, but he didn't say anything.
Ray said, "We'll walk together. Cacee, stay in the middle. Jess, if you start getting claustrophobic, hold onto her. You can hang onto the light too, that might help."
Jess nodded. Even in the gloom, his face was scarlet, and another reluctant surge of pity went through her. Ray got up to leave, but she grabbed his arm. "Wait. I have to do one more thing. I need the rope and some scissors."
Ray handed them to her, "Hurry."
She cut a length of rope and used it to wrap her hair into a sloppy ponytail. It was hard to tie the rope tightly enough to keep all her hair back and the strands in front immediately fell out and hung in her eyes. She let out a hiss of frustration and looked at the scissors she still held. Screw it. With a deep breath, she shook her hair out and gathered the pieces in front of her eyes in a straight line between her fingers.
Both Ray and Jess said, "What are you...?" Their words came too late. Pieces of hair were already falling to the ground, leaving jagged bangs that hung just below her eyebrows. She said calmly, "I need to be able to watch where I'm going."
They both looked so surprised she found herself quelling the urge to cringe.
She glared at them, "I know it looks like crap. So what? It's just hair."
They stood and Jess murmured, "It actually looks cute. I can see your face."
Her anger rushed back, and she shot him a glare. The last thing she wanted to be called right now was, "cute."
In a surprising show of good sense, Ray chose not to comment.
They walked in silence, hurrying to make up for lost time. But stopping had put her firmly in the moment and she repeatedly checked behind them. Each time she looked into the shadows, her heartbeat quivered faster. The tunnels surrounding them seemed to transform into an enormous creature. The sludge she waded into was its blood, pouring through cavernous veins. Its smell was one of damp basements and abandoned houses and rot. It was alive in the darkness, crawling at her heels, licking the sweat from her neck, panting in her ear. Her feet came down faster as the breath leaped from her lungs. When Ray's hand landed on her arm, she shrieked and threw a punch at him. He dodged it, "Shhhh!"
She stopped, trembling. She tried to breathe quietly.
Ray said, "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. We're okay for now. I don't hear anyone back there. You need to slow down."
He gestured towards Jess, who was breathing in harsh gasps again, the flashlight in his hand shaking strange patterns onto the walls. She'd counted on him to tell her if he needed her, to at least grab her hand if he couldn't breathe. When would she learn? She covered her face and focused on filling her lungs with air.
Ray said, "We're gonna be okay. I promise. You have to stay calm."
She nodded and took Jess's hand in hers. The flashlight he held steadied, although his breathing remained strained and labored. Between that and the fever still baking off him, she was afraid he'd pass out. Ray was in better shape than Jess but he was walking with a noticeable limp and, in the random flashes of light from Jess's hand, she spotted numerous cuts and bruises. He didn't seem to be in any condition to carry Jess out of here if he lost consciousness. She let go of Jess's hand slipped her arm around his waist. Jess immediately looped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her even closer. His breathing slowed as his feet picked up the pace.
She began describing their clearing, the way the sunlight slanted through the trees and turned the air a golden green, how the creek seemed to whisper and each breeze carried the scent of pine and wild herbs. Whenever she quieted, Jess would whisper, "Keep talking. Please, Cace."
So she did. She told him stories of Shane, told him how she first discovered the clearing in the woods, told him whatever nonsense popped into her head. And, as she spoke, she moved Jess along. But the aspirin couldn't help his claustrophobia and hadn't touched his fever. He was burning hot, shivering cold, his teeth chattering helplessly, his body glazed in sweat. Worse, he was rigid, his body wound so tightly that it seemed like if he moved the wrong way, he'd fly into a million pieces. His eyes showed too much of the whites and his face was starting to take on that same panicked, helpless look. She pulled him closer, trying to take more of his weight as another bout of shivering racked his body.
Questions and fear hammered away at her. He definitely wasn't sick when he kissed her. She'd have noticed a fever. So why was he sick now? How did the warehouse attack make him so ill? Out of the three of them, Jess was supposed to be the normal one. Did The Station use some kind of gas that thought would work on Ray but it affected Jess instead? What if he got worse? How would she take care of him when they were stuck underground with no access to real medical supplies?
She'd no sooner had the thought than Jess staggered. He was on the ground before she could catch him, sprawled flat on his face. She knelt beside him. "Jess? Jess? Are you okay?"
He painstakingly pushed himself up, his wet shirt now covered in mud and filth, his face contorted in pain. When he'd managed to get to his knees he let his head drop and struggled to say something.
She put her arm around his shoulder. "Shhh. It's okay. Don't talk."
He ignored this and, between gasps for air, got out, "I. Can't. Do. This. Can't, Cace. Please. Leave."
She put her other arm around his neck instead and hugged him tightly as his body burned and shivered beneath her hands. He seemed somehow fragile, as if all his bones had been hollowed out, leaving only an excavated skeleton behind. Jess remained tense and she knew he was fighting to pull away from her, both physically and emotionally. She made her voice emphatic. "I won't leave you."
Behind her, Ray murmured, "There's something I should..."
She shot him a dirty look and said, "Shhhh. Give me a few minutes."
"But--."
She crossed her arms and glared at her father.
Ray fell silent.
But Jess raised his head, looked directly at her father and said, "Ray will carry you out of here before he'll let you keep risking your life to save mine." His voice was torn and weak, but he kept it steady enough for Ray to hear him because it was Ray he was really talking to now, not her.
She pointed a finger at Ray and commanded, "Don't even think about it."
Ray said, "We can't--."
She gave him the blackest look she could muster and snapped, "Jesus, Ray. Just give me a fucking minute, will you?"
She took Ray's look of abject surprise as consent and turned back to Jess.
He didn't seem to have noticed her exchange with Ray. Having said his piece, he was now angled away from her, his body curled into itself. His face wore an expression of utter and complete hopelessness.
The cavity of her chest turned to ice as her heart sped into a wild rhythm that no longer resembled any kind of normal pulse. Her own breath turned to the same short, shallow gasps that Jess took, as if she'd swallowed a blizzard. She barely noticed either thing as she held Jess tighter, frantically searching her mind for the right thing to say to him. Something that wouldn't make him think of the lies he'd told her, or the fight with Ray, or any of it.
She understood that, if Jess wasn't convinced that she now secretly hated him, he would've never considered leaving her side. And, in truth, part of her did hate him. She hated that he'd stolen her innocence and her faith. She hated that she'd trusted him with her heart when he hadn't even trusted her with the truth. She hated that he'd made her fall in love with a lie.
But, as angry and hurt as she was, she also realized it hadn't all been a lie. All the conversations about books and music. All the little inside jokes. All the times they'd sat talking for hours. He needed to remember those months of friendship and understand that, despite everything, they still counted for something—that they still counted for a lot.
It came to her in a flash of inspiration and, praying he'd get it, she said, "Please Take Me Home."
She heard the strangled half sob Jess let out and knew he understood what she was doing.
He shook his head and choked, "Don't."
She bit her lip and tried, "I am Telling You I'm Not Going."
Jess whispered, "Please don't."
She cupped his face in her hands. "You Can't Fail Me Now."
The only response from Jess was the strained sound of his breathing. Ray murmured something in the background that she ignored. Her ears strained for the sound of men following them. She gently pushed the blood-soaked hair out of Jess's eyes and said, "I Won't Back Down."
Jess made a noise that fell somewhere between a laugh and a cry. He whispered, "You Can't Always Get What You Want."
Cacee squeezed her eyes shut as the seconds raced each other towards minutes. She clasped her hands around Jess's neck and rested her forehead against his. Pulled in a deep breath of the fetid air. Called on all her powers of concentration. And blurted. "I'll Never Let You Go. I'll Lay By Your Side and I Won't Get Back Up so if this is The End of the Line..." She hesitated but it was like a thousand song titles were spinning through her mind and all she had to do was wait for the right one to flash by. In a second she continued, "If This is The End of the Line, I'll Follow You Into The Dark."
She paused again and then rushed on. "Because We're in This Together and It's a Long Road Home. She stumbled over the words, hesitated for the last time and then finished all in one breath, "So Get on Your Feet and Hold My Hand. I need you to Stand by Me and then Everything'll be Alright." She stopped, breathing hard as she pulled back enough to look at him.
Jess's eyes met her own. Her heartbeat seemed to double before finally starting to slow. His expression of hopelessness had been replaced by one of surprise. A ghost of a smile touched his lips. He whispered. "Impressive."
She let go of his neck and took his arms, trying to pull him to his feet as she said, "I'm eleven in the lead now. Eleven. That means I won the whole game, so I definitely get what I want. And what I want is you."
Jess gave his head a tiny shake. She couldn't decipher the look on his face. She leaned in one more time and rested her cheek against his."Please, Jess. Please. "
This time, when she moved away and offered him her hands, he took them and allowed her to pull him to his feet.
After that, whenever he slowed or stumbled, she immediately put her arms around him. Jess seemed to have lost whatever capacity he had to refuse her help and, each time she held him, he clung to her so tightly that his shivers traveled through her body in long, echoing tremors. She would stay in his arms until his shaking slowed and his breath stopped sounding like it had been run through a wood chipper. Even Ray kept his mouth shut about this, as it was abundantly clear that Jess wasn't going anywhere without her. Each time they stopped, it only took Jess about ten to fifteen seconds of holding her to start moving again.
Sadly, her mind didn't seem to have gotten the memo that, with the immediate crisis over, she was supposed to remember her anger. Over and over again she heard her mother's old mantra: Boys were only good for breaking hearts. She needed to be strong. Independent. Count on herself. And that was the girl she wanted to be. She knew she should no longer want Jess to hold her. She wasn't supposed to feel safe every time she got close to him. She wasn't supposed to want to stay in his arms. And when he let her go, she definitely wasn't supposed to feel any sense of loss. The fact that she did turned her anger inward and pushed her to move faster.
She felt torn into pieces. She was furious with him. Furious with herself. She was sympathetic towards him. Disgusted with herself. She hated him and she loved him and she felt stupid and pitiful for both emotions. And so it was that the further they walked, the more desperate she became to get away from Jess before he twisted her into even more knots
After what seemed like an eternity, the ground began noticeably moving upwards. Every now and then she heard voices, or caught flashes of light from other tunnels. If Jess hadn't been beside her, she'd have assumed this was The Station and broken into a panicked sprint. As it was, she still assumed it might be The Station but never even considered running, since she knew Jess couldn't keep up.
So when they turned a corner and finally saw stairs, her legs turned to noodles. Jess caught her when she stumbled and a flash of pure relief crossed his face. She understood. Although the danger hadn't passed yet, the stairs seemed to symbolize hope. Instead of letting her go, Jess pulled her into his arms one final time. He sounded more like himself when he said, "Thank you, Cacee. I would have never made it through those tunnels without you."
Even now, her body strained to lean against him. She pulled away. Since she didn't know how to accept his thanks, she didn't respond. He seemed to understand and, as they headed for the stairs, he moved away from her, leaning on the railing instead. The promise of escaping the tunnels had given him a second wind, and he climbed quickly.
By the time they'd gone up five sets of stairs, the darkness had lightened to a dull gray. To her extreme relief, Jess was starting to seem like he'd be alright. He was still sweaty and streaked in blood, but his eyes no longer appeared quite as feverishly bright and color once more tinged his cheeks. Most telling of all, he no longer seemed comfortable looking at her. She was looking at him though, and couldn't help but notice the way his hand kept straying to his neck.
She touched his medallion. It seemed hot against her skin. Since the day they'd broken up, she'd meant to give it back. She just hadn't had the heart. Now, before she could stop herself, she reached up and unclipped the cord. She turned, holding it out to him. She saw the hurt on his face and automatically tried to soften the blow by saying, "I thought having this back would help."
Jess murmured, "It wouldn't."
She didn't move her hand.
After a couple awkward seconds he tried, "You can keep it if you want."
She shook her head. "No."
He reached out and took the necklace, grabbing her hand in the process. "Cace. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just-I-I was--I never meant..." He couldn't lift his eyes to hers, but the plea for understanding was impossible to miss.
Her throat started to swell and, once again, she reminded herself of all his lies. Even Peter wasn't real. Why did he make up a whole family? Did he think she'd hold it against him that he was in foster care? Did he believe she was that shallow? Was anything he ever told her real?
She pulled her hand away and began walking again. The next time she glanced in his direction, the medallion hung around his neck. Something in her chest contracted and she quickly looked away. Her heart kept insisting this was a mistake, that she was meant to hold onto his necklace, meant to hold onto him. But she'd learned her lesson on trusting her heart. Lifting her head, she blinked the wetness from her eyes and walked faster.