Revolution

- 25 -

Brandon didn't stop crying the next night.

Actually, he was a broken mess more than I cared to admit. I don't know how to help somebody like that. Everyone I've ever known has grown up resilient, almost immune to trauma, and I can't relate to having a family, never mind losing all of them in the same night. I just try to be quiet and let him get it out. I don't want to say he'll get over it, but if taking down Dynagenesis is really as important to him as he says, then he will.

The trip to the café, the endless cycle of inspection through his notes, intentionally avoiding sour Skittles. It's all hitting him hard.

When we arrived at Gull's Landing four days ago, I was sorely disappointed.

Not because of the glimmers of lakes we passed barely visible through the trees. Not because of the sticky-sweet, syrup-drenched flapjacks. It was because the only people I cared about in this miserable valley weren't even here. All that was left was yellow tape fluttering in the chilled breeze and some pedestrians who crossed the road to avoid the blocked off police department.

I don't know what to feel. The tape is practically mocking. I shove my hands deeper into the pockets of my hoodie and grit my teeth in frustration.

"I'm really sorry, Paige," Brandon murmurs, a few steps behind me. I clench my hands into fists. A choke forms in my throat and I pretend to not hear him. We were so close, and still too late. Always too late.

"Dammit," I whisper. All the fury and grief and stubborn optimism seeps out of me, flowing through the cracks in the pavement, mixing with the stagnant puddles of rain in the road. It leaves me exhausted. I screw my eyes shut and run my fingers through my tangled hair. "Dammit, dammit, dammit. They were right here, right here, and I wasn't fast enough."

"You can't possibly be blaming this on yourself." Brandon's tone is incredulous, and I'm stuck between wanting to punch his teeth down his throat and falling into his arms. My knees barely support my weight. I can feel my fingernails making purple crescents in my palms.

"This is all it's been about. If I had just stayed with the group — "

"Paige — "

"And now they're in danger, because of me — "

"Paige, stop — "

"Sarah should be standing right here," I declare, and that shuts Brandon up. I take a shuddering breath. "Her teeth just a little too long and hair half-flopping over her eyes. And Liam should be changing into the doctors and doing stupid stuff to make me laugh, skin rippling in the way it does. And Clarissa should be gesturing casually with a gun in the same way you hold a pencil, talking sass to everyone she meets." I rub my eyes with the back of one hand. "They should be standing right here, and I was too late."

The silence that follows speaks more than my cold words ever could. There's an unnatural heaviness in my rib cage that feels like it's crushing my heart with the weight of my guilt, and I swear I can feel my pulse slow. A police officer steps out the side of the building, glancing at us for a moment before continuing on his way.

"I know this isn't what you want to hear," Brandon starts.

"Then don't say it." I don't want to hear him right now, and my knuckles are practically begging to punch something. I'm betting my fist would fit pretty well in his jaw.

"I'm gonna say it." He pauses a breath while I contemplate which hand to use; left or right, left or right. "Dynagenesis just lost you guys. They're probably swarming the place undercover or something. If they don't already know you're here, they're going to soon. Personally, I don't make a good spy. We need to get out of here."