Page 66 of Kingdom of Tomorrow
From there, everything happened so fast. “Listen. Love.” He zoomed over and swung, but I kicked him in the chest, sending him stumbling backward. Not that it bought any time.
Roaring, he lunged with renewed force. I launched a second kick, my bare heel slamming into his chin. Again he stumbled backward. Again he lunged at me immediately afterward. Left with no other choice, I tried again. Expecting my defense this time, he caught my ankle and yanked my lower body off the bed. I yelped when the chain snapped tight, nearly wrenching my shoulder from its socket.
The sound of my anguish must have penetrated his killer instinct. He paused and shook his head. Banged his fists into his temples.
“Shiloh, please. We’re friends.” I hung from the edge of the mattress, as still as a statue, doing my best not to startle him. “We’re going on our second date in a matter of days.”
“Love Soal.” With a growl, he struck my stomach. Air exploded from my lungs. He struck again, his knuckles connecting with my cheek. My brain rattled against my skull, and blood flooded my tongue. Searing pain. Instant nausea.
When he drew back his elbow, intending to unleash another blow, I used my pillow to block, then maneuvered to my stomach, patting the bed, searching for the vial. There! He punched the back of my head, and I flopped over the mattress. But I didn’t drop my best weapon. Stunned but not out for the count, I knew. He wouldn’t stop unless I made him.
With tears in my eyes, I slammed the vial against the wall. Grains flew when the glass burst. A jagged shard remained in my grip.
He latched onto my ankle and gave another yank. The chain pulled taut, my abused shoulder screaming in protest. Choking on grief but no less determined, I twisted and swung. The tip of the shard sliced into his eye. Blood poured over his face, and he howled, instinctively reaching for the injury. I had a split second to attack or retreat.
Strike first and strike hard.
Snarling, Shiloh dove onto me. Instinct took over, and I did as I’d been trained, hammering the shard into his throat again and again.Boom, boom, boom. My heart thundered in time to each stab of the glass. The blows cut deep, leaving gaping wounds. He tripped backward, smacking into the floor, where he gasped for a breath he couldn’t catch.
Horror infiltrated every inch of my being as his motions slowed. As he stilled. As his head lolled to the side, his chest barely rising. He was dying because I’d hurt him. Just as I’d hurt Amelia.
No! No! I fought the chain with all my might. If I could just get free, I could stanch the flow of blood. He could get treatment. I refused to let him die. Wouldn’t steal him from his family. “You—you’ll recover and get medical care,” I stammered. “We’ll make more lemonade. This isn’t the end.”
His gaze held mine as blood gurgled from the corners of his mouth.
“Help us,” I screamed. Bile burned my esophagus. I looked to Mykal. She was curled into a fetal ball, weeping. “Please!”
The sound of racing footsteps arose. A helper? Or another infected? I pinned my focus to the crimson-soaked glass clutched in my quaking hand. Shiloh’s flesh hung from the tip. Crying out, I dropped the shard, my only weapon, as if it were laced with poison. I just, I couldn’t harm anyone else.
Cyrus halted in our open doorway, a gun and dagger at the ready. Fury and fear dominated his features. He scanned the cell, seeming to take in everything at once.
His expression shuttered, erasing any emotion. He sheathed the weapons and reached for me, but I shook my head.
“Fix him,” I commanded. “Tell me you’ll fix him!”
Cyrus crouched beside Shiloh to administer aid. He worked on the medic for minutes that lasted hours before hanging his head and inhaling deep. He flipped his gaze to mine. No. No! A hoarse, broken whimper seeped from me. Blood rushed from my head, igniting a high-pitched ring in my ears. Numbness flowed from limb to limb, inside and out.
Time slowed to a crawl as medics rushed in. Cyrus directed them to Mykal, then unfastened my binds. Despite my newfound freedom, I couldn’t force my body to move.
He examined my face and checked my vitals. Though his mouth moved, I heard nothing but that ring. I watched the happenings around me, feeling as if I were trapped in a dream.
A medic carried Mykal from the cell. Cyrus gently collected me and clutched my limp body to his chest. Aches and pains registered, but they weren’t strong enough to shatter my haze of shock.
“—orry, sorry,” Cyrus was saying as the ringing faded. He rushed me into the hall. Trainees shouted from their cells, demanding answers and freedom. “I’ve got you, Arden. I won’t let go.” But he did let go when we reached our destination, easing me onto a gurney.
I said nothing as medics took over, busying themselves with my care, cutting off my tank and shorts. The blue set I’d worn on my first date with Shiloh. Who was now dead.
My chin quivered. I looked away from Cyrus, the medics, everyone and everything. I didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to be anywhere. I’d killed Shiloh. Me. I’d ended his life and erased his future. Because that’s what I did. I drove people to the edge, then pushed them over.
The night Amelia died, we fought. She was older than me. She’d tried to sneak out of our bedroom, but I’d stopped her. She begged me to relent, promised to return in a few hours, but I hadn’t wanted her outside the safety of our bedroom walls, vulnerable to attack. She told me I was the worst sister ever born.
I proved her right only hours later when she broke. What if I’d let her leave? What would’ve happened? What if I’d shared with Cyrus everything about my interaction with Ember, hiding nothing? What if I’d aimed lower when I’d struck Shiloh? What if Cyrus had arrived sooner?
A soft caress against my cheek lured me from my haze of thoughts. I almost leaned into the contact, desperate for comfort, but I didn’t. I deserved to feel every emotion now plaguing me.
At my bedside, Cyrus tenderly traced his fingertips on the unbruised side of my face. “You tested negative. Arden, do you hear me?”
So I’d tested negative. So what? So had Shiloh. But I didn’t care anymore. I’d reached my limit. The cauldron of frustration had iced over, the fire beneath it snuffed out. I was too tired to bother.
