Ten days pass, and I snap. I can’t handle it anymore. Timour is actively ignoring me—I checked in with his manager, and she verified that he has been clocking in every workday. She wouldn’t let me talk to him though, saying I needed to receive Boss’ approval first.
After our last “conversation”? Forget it.
Felix and I are leaving Titan in seven days, and Timour’s coming with us, whether he likes it or not. Appropriately deranged, I’ve resolved to confront him. Planting myself in front of Timour’s room, I sit with my back against the door, and I vow to stay here as long as it takes. He will speak to me.
* * *
And that’s how Felix finds me three days later. Curled up in a ball on Timour’s doorstep.
“What in Satan’s hell are you doing, sweetheart?” he exclaims, towering over me. “Have you lost your mind?” He bends down to peer at my pupils. “Are you on something?”
Nearly catatonic, I state, “He’s gone.” My voice grates from disuse.
Sighing, Felix says, “This isn’t healthy.” He looks up at the two guards flanking me. “How long has she been here for?”
The guards share a glance. “Approximately sixty-eight hours, sir,” Wolfe responds.
“Has she eaten?” Felix scans the protein bars, energy shots, and blankets littering the floor around us.
Valentino shakes his head, answering, “No. We offered, but—”
“You don’t offer,” Felix cuts him off. “You demand. Look at her! You think she’s in any shape to fast?”
“No, sir,” Valentino responds. “We don’t. We’ve tried talking her out of… whatever this is. We tried moving her, and she pulled the gun on us.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Felix questions, “Does Boss know about this?”
The guards glance at each other again, and Valentino replies, “Boss has been preoccupied testing… doing some testing. We planned to inform him if she kept this up for a couple more hours.”
Felix scrutinizes their faces. “Shit. You two look like you haven’t slept in days.”
“That’s because we haven’t,” Wolfe asserts, grimacing.
“Alright, lads, tell you what. I’ll escort Ailee to a doctor—shake some sense into her—while you rest and recharge,” recommends the Quartermaster. “How does that sound?”
The guards are too exhausted to argue. Usually they sleep when I’m at work or with Huxley on the weekends, but given that I didn’t go to work on Thursday or Friday, and I have yet to “come around” as Felix so eloquently put it, the guards have remained awake for three days, at least. I wonder why they don’t just take shifts.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“You’re finished,” Felix says to me. “Up you go.” He lifts me effortlessly into his arms.
“Hey—” I start to remonstrate, but my head spins and pounds, and I lay my temple against Felix’s shoulder, closing my eyes. We’re moving. “I don’t want to go to the hospital.”
“Too bad.”
“I have a headache.”
“Serves you right. You’re dehydrated.”
“I want coffee.”
“I’ll get you coffee after I ensure you don’t have brain damage, you half-witted girl,” Felix growls.
Opening my eyes, I wince from the glaring lights. Once I’m able to concentrate on his face, I study his frown lines and his tenacity to scowl straight ahead. His body exudes turbulence, as if at any moment, he’ll hurl me across the hall. “Timour’s gone,” I murmur.
He sighs, his frown lines smoothing as he organizes his thoughts. “Let’s get you help first.”
“Ah, Ailee, my regular customer,” Doctor River greets sardonically while Felix bridal carries me through the hospital’s entrance. “What’s the issue?”
* * *
After twenty-four hours of being fed fluids and electrolytes from an IV, I discharge myself from the hospital. Doctor River isn’t happy, nor is Felix, but the latter pledges to watch over me for the next few days, which appeases the doctor somewhat.
“I don’t get it,” I say in the middle of devouring a full sleeve of soda crackers, per Felix’s order. He lounges on his bed, and I sit at his desk, facing him. “Timour’s manager told me he was clocking in every workday.”
“She lied,” asserts Felix obviously.
“I guess Boss doesn’t want me knowing my comrade has already left.”
Felix shifts on the bed, placing his elbows on his knees as his gaze flickers between me and the ceiling. Then he delivers unwelcome news, “Ailee… the dropship is still docked. Timour’s gone… but he never left Titan.”
Ever so slowly, I put down the sleeve of crackers. Rising, I stare at Felix intently. “He’s not dead,” I state, monotone.
“Maybe not.”
“He’s not dead, Felix.”
“Of course not.”
I breathe in deeply. “Do you know where he is?”
He gives me a weary look. “No.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
“I only worked it out last night,” he claims.
I pause. “Do you know who’s responsible for his disappearance?”
“Unequivocally,” he replies, looking up at me through thick lashes. “And so do you.”
I curse and pace the room.
Felix rises, grabbing me by the shoulders. I try to twist out of his grasp, but he’s adamant about keeping me in place. Leaning down so our eyes are level, he urges, “Hey, Ailee, don’t do anything foolish, you hear me? If Timour… we’ll find Timour when the reinforcements arrive in three days.”
My eyes widen. “Three days?”
“Today is October fifth. You didn’t notice, because you’ve been too engaged with starving yourself to death.”
Timour’s not dead yet, I refuse to believe that, but within the next few days, he could be. So I promise Felix that I won’t do anything foolish—that I’ll stick to his plan. I tell him I’m tired, and I feign falling asleep on his bed. But I slept while in the hospital, and Felix did not. He’s been up for thirty hours.
As I anticipated, when he collapses at the foot of the bed, and his breathing progressively evens, he’s dead to the world.
I sneak out.