“Let’s leave our stuff outside,” Mensha said after he finished questioning his life choices. It was a familiar expression.

“Nothing we might need,” she said but followed him to the middle of the courtyard where he dropped everything but his knife.

“If you think somethings helpful take it, but I don’t want to have run through a collapsing building with a bag full of water.”

She smiled, he’d walk into a building he thought would collapse with her. Her expression dropped as she processed his tones grim certainty “Do you think it will?” she said dropping her bags but keeping bat.

“Plan for the worst, hope for the best, I think it’s possible” he paused and glanced at her, “Like the ghosts.”

“Those are two very different things.”

“They’re both potential dangers.”

She could see his logic, but it was a touch too close to paranoia for her, “Agree to disagree.”

“Sure.” He said as they returned to the entrance.

Summer rolled her shoulders and pushed her drowsiness away. She stepped forward, a hand on her arm pulled her back. She glanced at Mensha.

“I should lead,” he said in a soft tone and looked into her eyes. “My magic, or whatever it is we end up calling it means I can heal more easily if something crushes me.” He stared determined.

“And I won’t get crushed in the first place.” She stared black, he didn’t waver. She sighed tiredly “I’m stronger and sturdier than you.” She flexed , he stared unimpressed, her glowing arm lacked any muscle. She lowered the limb and pinned her silliness on sleep deprivation and stress.

“Summer your strength changes with your mood and being twice as sturdy won’t matter when a piece of the ceiling crushes your leg.”

“And how do you know its only twice.” She said with mounting frustration.

“I don’t, and that’s precisely why we can’t risk you getting badly injured.”

“So its better if you do.” She tried to control her seething emotion, but they rippled across her skin and into her light. Painting her skin with small bright and darks spots she scarcely noticed.

“Yes, I can my fix bones if they break, and I think I can do the same if I’m crushed.” She stared at him, he stared back. He was expecting something to go wrong. Not a risk, but the cautious certainty of a kicked puppy. He was planning for a death, maybe not today or tomorrow but he was making sure it was his.

She flushed with anger her rising frustration cut through any lethargy. “Are you trying to get yourself killed!” he flinched, surprise flashing across his face, the silent city filled her ears. “You almost died Mensha! In the mall on the road, I refuse to let it happen here.” She held his gaze, her light steadied and rose under the singularity of her anger.

No,” the hand on her arm fell to her hand and his eyes soften with something other than tenderness. “I’m not.” the defeat in hos voice stole her fury’s direction and she was left in a world of aimless frustration.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

She blinked. “What.”

“You’ve pulled me out of some bad situations.” She had, and the memories smothered her anger as easily as they fed it. “But what am I supposed to do? Watch you take every risk by yourself until you make a mistake.” He said never breaking eye contact, she couldn’t place the look in his eye.

The city’s silence pored between them.“Then why are you helping me.” The words took the last of her anger,

“Should I pick between helping you throw yourself into danger or watching you do it by yourself?” he tilted his head and unfamiliar light faded. She glared.

“No, I’m asking why you didn’t try and dissuading me,” she said her voice firm.

He leaned back. “Don’t we have other concerns?” he glanced at the building.

Her eyes followed and she wavered, there could be someone in need inside, but this was important, and she didn’t know if she’d have the time or energy to continue later. “It can wait.”

He stared at her the strange look in his eye returning as he fell silent. He looked to the twinkling lights above, the silence stretched, the undulating hum times only marker. “I don’t know where to begin.” He said, voice distant.

“At the beginning.” He chuckled but it was empty.

“Not like that Summer, I don’t know where to begin, is the answer.” She stared at him, concerned as he visibly searched for the words. “It’s all over Summer,” pain bit his voice.

She squeezed his hand, for his pain or his?

“My brother is probably dead or will be soon, and I want to believe that this” anger coated the word. “Isn’t global, or it’s better elsewhere, but,” he gaze fell to meet hers. “I can’t.” It was as hollow as his voice.

She made a mistake, she assumed he was coping better than her. His calm was gained through avoidance. That like her he’d chosen not to think, but his eyes showed another story.

Anger, pain, sadness and so much more swirled freely across his face, but there was more. She knew in a way, she couldn’t express that below that lay apathy. His emotions flowing over it like oil over a lake.

It frightened her more than anything she’d seen today.

She barely heard him continue speaking. “I don’t know where to go, what to do, or if there’s anything worth doing. All I know is that eventually something will kills us or we’ll live,” he didn’t sound pleased by either. “and though I’m not killing myself I have no idea how to go about living.” He chuckled and looked away leaving a cold at the pit of her stomach that dimmed her light to near vanishing.

When had this started, her mind raced and landed on his startling composure after she pulled him from the room full of bodies. He’d said he wasn’t okay.

His gaze returned before she could spiral further, it carried a spark of hope. “But you do.”

It burned, that bottomless expectation, and in that instant, she knew two things. She was all he had left, and he was barely holding on. She glanced into the building her decision carried a new weight.

“So here we are,” his voice once more smooth, emotions sliding into whatever pit he kept them.

She stared at him, this was going to be a problem, this was a problem. What could she do about it, was there anything she could ? She’d seen enough to employ a therapist the rest of their life, and Mensha was in worse shape than her.

She was confident if wary of walking into a half-collapsed building, but she didn’t know where to begin. The irony was lost on her. She could only do what she always did, her best.

“Well get through this, one day at a time,” she clasped his hand between hers and kissed them keeping her gaze fixed on his face.

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep.” He smiled wanly, he didn’t believe her, but in the sad tremble of his lips, she could see how desperately he wanted to. That was okay she’d convince him. “I’ll prove it, and” she closed her eyes. “You can lead,” the words hurt but he needed them, if only for the sense of control he woefully lacked.

She opened her eyes his his smile was a touch more genuine.

He put his faith in her, however tenuous, and she refused to betray it. Her dim light rose brighter than before, this roller coaster of a conversation.

She released him and turned back to the distant humming. Her brighter light revealed numerous bodies arrayed around the interior. Faces masks of different emotions and a few bodies mangled by violence. The building loomed some hungry maw yet to swallow.

She had so many problems and more ceaselessly found their way to pile. She’d start with the one in front of her.