Page 11 of Fallen Thorns
I shifted into a more comfortable position, letting the blanket fall to my waist. I stared at the watery, red smoothie in my hands, and my nose turned up in instinct.
“Just drink it. You need it.”
I peered up at Mars through my overgrown fringe, unconvinced.
A repressed smirk broke onto their face. “If we were going to poison you, we wouldn’t have bothered saving your life beforehand.”
If anything, that admission made me even more unsure. Poison hadn’t even crossed my mind — I was just a little stunned at the entire predicament still.
I took a sip. For my first taste of diluted blood, it didn’t taste as vile as I would have expected. Though at the time, I believed it to be a lumpy, long expired berry smoothie.
“What was the last thing you remember?” Mars asked sincerely, once my turned-up nose relaxed.
My mind was completely and utterly blank. I tried going back further than the night before or even the entire week, but the last thing that vaguely swam to mind was the memory of my mum standing in my accommodation, wiping a tear from her eye and bringing up how much she and Bess would miss me. That was nearly a couple of months ago now and I most definitely had memories since then – I just couldn’t think ofwhat.
“You went out for the night?” Mars prompted, leaning into their palm.
Did I?
“You are a student at Durham University. Your name is Arlo James Everett. Your birthday is the second of September nineteen ninety-nine…”
My head throbbed.
“I only know that because I had to check your ID in your wallet — sorry for the intrusion by the way, I just had to put a name to the body at my feet.”
I froze, wide eyed.Body?
“You’re talking as if I died. Did I pass out or something? I must have hit my head because I have absolutely no recollection of anything I did last night, and I swear I don’t normally drink that much; I must have got carried away.”
Mars’ shoulders dropped, their expression turning sympathetic. It was the same look I always imagined a police officer wore when turning up at your door to announce the tragic death of a loved one.
“What?”
Mars sighed and leaned forward. “You were attacked, Arlo,” they said, tone lowered. Another sigh. “Look, I would normally just point it out, but I take it you’re not one for close contact with strangers so... check your pulse on your right side.”
What an odd request, I remember thinking, but I obliged. Placing the half-full mug on the ground, I raised two fingers to the right of my neck, Mars’ gaze following my every move. Not only did I struggle to find the pulse, but I felt two crusty, raised bumps an inch or so apart. I rubbed harder in confusion. And then, it stung. In fact, my whole body stung; all of me ached, overcome with an intense dizziness forcing my head to loll back against the chair. Everything flooded back to me. University, Rani, the coffee shop. The dead man. The bridge.
Lucy.
The bar.
The alleyway.
“She...”
“You remember who did this?”
“I remember everything.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why?” I hated when people apologised to me for matters out of their control — even more so when I was certain it wasmy fault.
“You know why. You just don’t want to admit it because you think you’re going insane. You’re hoping this is all a dream and you will wake up in your own, warm bed where everything has returned to normal. But this is reality. You are awake now. As awake as you ever will be. For the rest of eternity. And I’m sorry.”
I remained silent and touched my neck again. No pulse. Bite marks...
Dead.
