In The Afterlight (The Darkest Minds #3)(31)

I leaned toward the door, pressing my forehead against it as I listened.

“She and Cole have been acting all buddy-buddy for a while,” Chubs said. “I’m not surprised they pulled something like this.”

“It doesn’t make sense—” Liam’s voice dropped low enough that I couldn’t hear it, but I was already backing away, blood pounding in my ears at the anger laced through their voices.

I made my way down the hall, to the linen closet that Dolly had mentioned. All of the towels had been claimed, but there was a soft, oversized black shirt tucked into a bag of street clothes the agents had missed when cleaning the joint out. I took that with me as I walked to the bathroom, grateful I wouldn’t have to change back into all of my dirty clothes.

The morning took on an unreal quality as I stepped into one of the shower stalls, stripped, and stepped in before the water could warm. The water burst out of the rusted showerhead and hit my skin with a freezing slap, cooling me instantly, easing the prickling on my scalp. They’d installed pumps of soap and shampoo in each stall: big, industrial-sized containers that were already half-empty. I let my shoulders hunch as my gaze dropped down to the water swirling deep, down, away under my feet. I breathed. The patches of dirt that didn’t wash away on my ribs and legs turned out to be bruises. I breathed. I breathed.

I just breathed.

6

I DON’T KNOW IF I ACTUALLY SLEPT, so much as dipped in and out of unconsciousness. Flat on my back, my hands folded over my stomach, I listened to the sound of the Ranch waking up. Voices called up and down the hall to each other, asking about the laundry they’d put in, complaining about the lack of hot water in the showers, laughing—I closed my eyes at the sound of Vida calling for me.

Get up, I ordered myself. You have to deal with this.

I swung my legs over the side of the bunk, scrubbing my face, trying to smooth my hair back into a ponytail. By the time I switched on the lights and opened the door, Vida was already at the other end of the hall, doubling back when I stepped out.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Oh? Finally done getting your beauty sleep, boo?” she sniped. “They waited for you—they waited an hour for you and you didn’t show! What? You’re too f**king good to even say good-bye?”

Something cold coiled in my stomach. “Cate and Dolly left already?”

After everything that had happened over the past few months, I was surprised by how deeply that cut. Didn’t stop to say goodbye, didn’t stay to hear us explain it fully. Cate would rather try to blow up everything we’d accomplished in getting the agents to leave by begging them back. She’d sabotage this for us.

“It’s almost three in the afternoon,” Vida said.

I stared at her in disbelief. Some of the ice finally broke from her expression. She shook her head, muttering something under her breath that I pretended not to hear. “You were sleeping this whole time? You must have been more wrecked than I thought.”

“Listen,” I started, “about earlier...”

She held up a hand. “I get it. I just have one question—did you keep Sen’s plan from me because you thought I’d knife the bitch in the kidney?”

“That might have been part of it,” I admitted.

“Then you don’t know me as well as you think,” she said. “Because I would have gone straight for the heart. But...fair.”

“Where is everyone?” I asked.

“Gran is lying around moping somewhere,” Vida said. “Boy Scout is annoying the shit out of everyone in the kitchen.”

“What? Why?” At her shrug I asked, “And Zu?”

All at once, her expression shuttered again. When she spoke, her voice could have cut the skin from my bones. “Do I look like I give a single shit where she is?”

“Vida,” I said, “seriously—”

Whatever it was, she didn’t want to talk about it. Vida was already backing away, heading toward the stairs.

“We need to talk about this,” I said, starting after her. The look she shot back stopped me. That was the expression of someone who wanted to be left alone.

“By the way, if you decide you f**king care, when Cate was walking down into the tunnel,” Vida said, “she said something to me: tell Ruby playing with fire only gets you burned. That mean anything to you?”

“No,” I said finally. “I have no idea.”

Vida had been partly right. Liam was in the kitchen—only he was actually in the pantry, past the stoves and sinks, in the darkened back corner. He’d left the door wide open, likely to encourage some light inside other than the small flashlight he had clenched between his teeth. He was scribbling something down on a small flip notebook. I reached over to flick on the light switch, about to laugh at him for missing it, but...nothing. I tried it twice to be sure.

Liam took the flashlight out of his mouth and smiled. And just like that, the past few hours seemed to melt away into a murky puddle that I stepped clear of.

“Did you know this place needs thirty-six new light bulbs? Why in the world did they have to take the light bulbs, too?” Liam asked.

“Thirty-six is very exact,” I said with a faint laugh. “Is that your best guess?”

He seemed confused. “No, I counted. I did a walkthrough with Kylie and Zu earlier. We also could use five new door locks, several gallons of laundry detergent, and about two dozen towels. And this—” Liam gestured to the sparse shelves in front of him. “This is pathetic. I have no idea how they even found this many cans of beets, but good Lord. What can you even do with them?”