Page 28 of Fear
When a worried, female voice right above him said, “Honey, are you hurt?” his eyes snapped open.
The woman from the other side of the stairs was bending down to touch him, her shoulder-length brown hair close enough to swing into his face.
He couldn’t stop himself from shoving backward, away from the threat, even though that just scraped his back—and his new shirt from Jake, damn damn damn—along the concrete of the stairs. He had to stop himself. He couldn’t run away from reals, not when he didn’t know if they were from the ASC, not when he didn’t know where Jake was, but he couldn’t stop himself.
It only got worse when three reals appeared on the top of the steps. They were behind him, he was cornered, and when Jake found him . . . Tobias forced himself to stop, digging his fingers into the thin creases in the blocks of the stairs and willing himself to stay still. It wouldn’t be worse if he stayed still than if he tried to run and didn’t actually have an escape. His best—only—hope right now was that Jake would come soon. Jake had to come soon.
“Hey, you okay?” the young woman at the top of the steps called. “Sorry about that, we weren’t trying to hit you.”
Tobias closed his eyes and tucked his chin close to his chest. His best option now was to stay silent, to avoid any questions the reals might ask. Maybe that way they wouldn’t know, wouldn’t call the ASC, and he wouldn’t have gotten Jake into trouble (and end up back in Freak Camp). That plan had a modicum of hope. He didn’t automatically look like a freak, didn’t have vampire fangs or the full-body, genetic tattoos of a djinn. And the shirts Jake had bought for him had high necks so no one could see his scarring unless the collar was jerked down.
But beneath the surface of his calculations, he knew that none of that mattered because he was a freak. They would be able to see right through him. They were reals and they would know and jerk away in horror, and their outrage that he had ever tried to pass himself off as one of them would sweep out of them, and the ASC would be close, maybe one of those very same people who watched him now, and they would drag him back to Freak Camp because Jake wasn’t there.
Please, please go away.
It didn’t work. The woman knelt beside him, right by him, and her voice went even softer. “Where does it hurt? Did you break something?” She reached for the arm he held against his chest, and Tobias couldn’t hold back a sharp noise of protest as he pushed himself back again.
“What’s wrong with him?” someone above muttered.
“Shhhh. I think he’s, like, special needs.”
They were figuring it out. Tobias curled over on himself, forehead almost touching his knees, but through his hair he could see the woman staying where she was, raising her hands, palms out. “Okay,” she said, voice level. “Sweetie, I’m not going to hurt you. Can you tell me if there’s someone I can call? Do you have a card?”
Tobias had no idea how to respond, but he didn’t have to. Right then, he heard pounding steps over the grass and a shout of “Tobias!”
He sagged in relief, though he didn’t raise his head even when Jake leaped down to the stones beside him. Jake might be angry at him for being so clumsy and stupid and drawing so much attention, but at least he’d make the reals go away.
“Tobias—” Jake took hold of his shoulders, tight but without squeezing to hurt, and Tobias let out another shaky exhale. “Tobias, I’m so sorry. I saw you fall from the stand and—shit, are you hurt?”
Tobias shook his head.
“His elbow’s bleeding,” the woman said, gesturing slightly, as though hoping Tobias wouldn’t notice the motion.
Jake released his shoulder to look at his arm and swore again.
“Hey, dude,” one of the reals from above called. “I don’t think you should leave your friend alone, especially if he’s, like, slow.”
“He is not—” Now, Jake sounded furious. “Don’t you have some weed to smoke, asswipe? Get lost.”
Muttering, they moved off. Jake twisted around to look at the woman next, though he kept a firm grip on Tobias’s other shoulder, anchoring him.
“Looks like your friend needs some help,” she said, tone unfathomable. “Is he yours?”
“Yes,” Jake snapped without hesitation, hand tightening. Though Tobias had no idea what the consequences of this fiasco would be, he still felt a wave of giddy relief as Jake claimed him.
“Well, my sister Janet manages the bagel store on the corner, and I know they have a fully stocked first aid kit. We could go over there to get him fixed up. It won’t be a problem.”
“I—” Jake began, then stopped. Tobias remained motionless, forehead to his knee, barely daring to breathe. “Yeah,” Jake said finally. “That would be great, thanks. Tobias, can you get up?”
Tobias nodded, but Jake still reached under his arms to help him stand. Tobias sucked in his breath, tested his weight on his ankle, and wobbled.
“Shit,” Jake said again. “Did you twist your ankle?”
Tobias hesitated, unwilling to lie directly, not sure anyway if it was true.
“Can he walk?” the real woman asked.
Tobias nodded. He had managed under much worse. To his shock, though, Jake didn’t move away, but stepped beside him and slid an arm under his shoulders.
