That bastard really wrung my arm to the point of no return. Footsteps approach, and I glimpse the men walking past the room we are in. And they peek in. Are they gonna walk in? Ethan is on the floor now, just waiting to give me a signal to pull.
As soon as the door handle wrenches, he tugs at my boots, and then I pull. Everything is white and smoky. A voice shouts, but through the ache, I can't tell if it's in here or somewhere else.
I look up through my blurry vision. The vents are rattling. "Alexandria, stay behind the steel!"
Is Ethan far or near me? I stay there, behind the steel. He is saying something, and I try to focus on his voice. ".....look at the light. Close your eyes. Count the seconds between the vent rattles. On 'ten,' I'm making a move for the door."
Look at the light or don't look at the light. What is he telling me? I close my eyes and count, between the vent rattling. One.... two.... three....
When I hit ten in my head, his footsteps fade away from me. And a gunshot rings out. Do I look, or not? I decide not to.
**
When I wake, everything seems to be over. And my arm is in a sling. "Welcome back," Ethan says to me–his voice rough because of the halon gas. "The doctors say the arm will heal, but you're going to have to take it easy for a few weeks. No more pinning billionaires against walls for a while."
I attempt to sit up, but he pushes me back down. "Rest."
"Is...Is Aaron okay?"
Ethan's silence answers everything I needed to know. "Of course... He's dead," I mumble. He tells me the surge was too much for the vents' power cycle.
"We tried, Alexandria. The medics were in here the second the gas cleared. But Aaron... he was exhausted. He'd been fighting Julian's shadow for a long time."
"I need to be alone for a while... Ethan," I say, looking away from him. If I stare at him, I will go crazy. He didn't leave, just shifted on the hospital bed.
I gaze at the door, like Aaron might come in with a huge smile on his face. But no. The sad thing about reality is–dead people can't miraculously appear. A single tear escapes my eyes, and I wipe it away. Aaron would have wanted me to live. But why does it feel like I am the guilty one?