Married in Vegas

 

Chapter Six

                                   

“So…” I say—my lips dragging out the “o”. Logan, Brody, Maggie, Bruce and Chase look at me. “Does this Bruce Matthews guy not exist, then?”

Bruce—my mistake, Mr. Davenport—shakes his head. “Not anymore.”

There’s an eerie silence and I think about leaving it alone but the task is impossible for me. Curiosity killed the cat and all that, right? I really hope that’s just a saying.

“So, you killed him then.” I say nonchalantly to Mr. Davenport like I’m totally not bothered by that.

Brody snorts a laugh and then tries to cover it with a cough. I glare at him. “You sound like your choking.” I tell him, which only makes him laugh more. I look at Mr. Davenport again and he’s smiling slightly.

“Of course I didn’t kill him. The Company did.” Mr. Davenport says, his smile fading at mention of the Company. He’s not the only one—Brody sobers up as well. Suddenly, we’re all very morose.

“Why?” I ask quietly, since nobody else will talk. In all honesty, I think Chase, Brody and Logan are still in shock from finding out there dad is, y’know, not dead and stuff.

“He was the only Extinguisher alive. So they tried to take his DNA and do some experiments on him, so that they could make more of him.” Mr. Davenport explains.

I nod a couple of times, but am still confused. “But, uh, Reuben has the ability to give Talents to people. Why did he need Bruce’s DNA, then? Couldn’t he have just have given somebody a Talent without his DNA?” I ask. I look over at Chase but he’s not looking back, his head is somewhere else.

Mr. Davenport looks like he doesn’t want to answer me. He thinks to himself about something carefully, looking as if he’s having an internal debate. In the silence, I wrap my arms around myself and stare up at the dark sky—its still night out.

“You know…its pretty freaking cold outside.” I say, staring up at the stars. I state the fact simply to fill the silence. I look away from the sky when I feel something warm covering my shoulders to find Chase shrugging out of his sweater and placing it around me. I smile as Chase’s scent surrounds me, sweet yet dark somehow. “Thanks Chase.” I say, smiling at him. However, Chase’s eyes still hold the faraway look and he doesn’t respond, far less look at me. I turn back to Mr. Davenport.

“Why couldn’t Reuben just give somebody Bruce’s Talent? He could make anybody an Extinguisher…” I repeat, thinking maybe he didn’t hear me. “So why did he need to test on Bruce Matthews?” I ask.
Mr. Davenport sighs, as if he’s been defeated. “When Reuben gives somebody a Talent, they don’t always…live.”

Chase’s head snaps up and the faraway look disappears from his eyes as he sends a sharp look towards his father. “What do you mean, they don’t always live?” He asks lowly.

“Some of the people Reuben gives Talents to…die.” Mr. Davenport says with a weary sigh. For a large, strong guy, Mr. Davenport sure sounds drained.

I see a muscle twitch in Chase’s forearm, the way it usually does when he hears something he doesn’t like. “How many have lived?” Chase asks.

I shoot an unknowing, worried glance at Brody and Logan. Brody’s brow is furrowed and Logan shoots me a tight smile. What the heck is going on?

Mr. Davenport presses his lips together. “So far…” he starts with a weak voice. “Only one.”

Suddenly, everybody is looking at me. Maggie looks like she’s on the verge of tears and Brody and Logan suddenly look very alarmed. I look at Chase, whose whole body is tensed as if he’s ready to fight somebody. His eyes are dark and he won’t meet my eyes.

“Uh, hey…” I say nervously. And that’s when you know something is wrong. Because I am so not the nervous type.

“So, eventually they all die.” Chase says roughly, anger and panic leaking into his voice. Mr. Davenport nods solemnly and Chase grinds his teeth together, his hands balling into fists.

“Is anyone else freezing?” I ask aloud, still shivering under Chase’s warm sweatshirt. It’s the summer! Shouldn’t it be warm?

Looks of worry and panic run across everybody’s face. Logan walks over to me and presses his hand against my forehead. “You’re hot.” He tells me, pulling his hand away from my forehead. I frown.

“No, I’m cold.” I correct him.

Logan doesn’t respond, but instead slips out of his sweatshirt as well and drapes it across my shoulders.

“How long?” Chase asks his father. Mr. Davenport looks at him square in the eye, the way doctors do when delivering bad news.

“No longer than a week.” Mr. Davenport says, his face sad.

Chase’s expression turns to disbelief. “Are you sure?” He asks his father. Mr. Davenport nods sadly.

Chase takes a few breaths, slow and uneven, trying to calm himself. I frown, confused and still shivering. “What’s happening?” I ask Chase. He looks at me then for the first time in the last twenty minutes and the look of disbelief vanishes from his face—replaced with a look of morose and anger.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Chase spits out and his father, glaring harshly and ignoring me altogether.

“I didn’t know for sure.” Mr. Davenport explains, defending himself. I wish somebody would tell me what is going on.

“Like hell you didn’t know.” Chase growls, his hands balling up into fists again. Brody steps in front of Chase, grabbing his forearms and pushing him back gently.

“Relax, Chase.” Brody says quietly, his face gloomy.

I can see Chase make a concerted effort to relax but its clear there’s no hope. “I can’t let her die, Brody.” Chase struggles out; trying to break free from Brody’s grasp but Brody tightens his grip.

“Get in your car and drive.” Brody tells Chase, his voice quiet. “When we break the news she’s going to need people around her for support—not somebody who can’t accept it.”

Chase struggles against Brody’s grip, and if he had wanted to, Chase could have broken from Brody’s grasp. But, somewhere, deep down, Chase knows Brody is right.

Only…right about what?

And then a sudden, sad thought fills my mind.

“Is Margaret sick?” I ask aloud, panic seeping into my voice. That would explain why everybody is so sad, and why Chase is freaking out. Because his mom is dying. Right?

Wrong.

“Margaret is fine, Skye.” Mr. Davenport says. I nod slowly, thankful. But Chase said she…so that means…

“Maggie? Are you sick?” I ask quietly, hoping not to upset her if it’s true.

Maggie shakes her blonde head. “No, Skye.” She says in a wobbly voice.

Another flood of relief washes over me and then I sigh.

“Well, I know it’s not me, so who is it?” I ask, confused and still shivering from the cold.

I see Chase try to tug free from Brody’s arms again and it’s silent.

“Oh, no.” I say, a dropping feeling invading my stomach. “Oh, no, no, no.”

I suddenly remember what Mr. Davenport has been saying this whole time.

“It’s not…I mean, I’m not…” I stutter in a panic. “It’s not…me?” I ask, worried, hoping for a different answer than the one I know I’m going to get. “I’m not…dying, right?”

Logan looks down, taking a shaky breath, and then walks over to me again, wrapping his arms around me in a hug. I go numb, all feeling disappearing from my body as Logan hugs me. “I’m so sorry, Skye.” He says into my shirt. “Whatever I can do to help…I’ll do it.”

Chase finally breaks free from Brody’s grip and storms over to me and Logan.

“You’re going to be fine, Skye.” He says, glaring at Logan who pulls away from me.

I don’t look at Chase—I just let the familiar numb feeling take over my body and mind. I let it control me—I let it invade me.

“Skye…” I hear Chase say, but I shake him off, my eyes blinking repeatedly. I sit down, right in the middle of the road where Chase and Logan’s cars are stopped, and let the numbness block out everything else.

It blocks out time, feeling and noise so that I’m a place away from all of this. I feel so out of it, in fact, that when I faint, I’m not surprised in the least.

 

*         *         *                                 *                                 

 

When I wake up, the numbness is gone, and I find myself wishing for it to come back. This can’t be happening. It can’t be.

I look around and find that I’m the back of Logan’s car, lying down with Maggie beside me. Logan and Mr. Davenport are in the front seats.

“Chase?” I ask quietly. Logan smiles weakly.

“He’s with Brody.” Logan reassures me and then shoots a glance at Mr. Davenport. I look over at Maggie, whose holding my hand in her tiny, pale one. I find that I’m still shivering.

She doesn’t even bother pretending to smile. “How do you feel?” She asks me.

“Cold,” I say, and then shiver again. It’s then that I realize that this is probably a symptom of me dying. And then I notice that the heat is on full-blast and everybody in the car is in shorts and t-shirts, sweating from the heat. Logan reaches to turn up the heat some more, but I stop him. “I’m fine!” I say loudly, not wanting them to get heat stroke or something because of me.

Logan hesitates but then drops his hand finally. Mr. Davenport turns around and sticks a thermometer into my mouth. I close my eyes, letting the thermometer do its job until I hear the beep, saying it’s ready. Mr. Davenport takes the thermometer from my mouth.

“High fever,” I hear him mumble to Logan, who clenches his jaw. Maggie’s eyes start to water.

“Where’s the Adapter?” I ask suddenly, having forgot about the guy that tried to kill me at the beach house.

“With Brody and Chase.” Logan tells me. I nod and Mr. Davenport turns back around.

“How do you feel Skye?” He asks me. I attempt a shrug.

“Fine, so far. Just a little chillier than normal.” I say, attempting another smile. “So, I only have a week?” I ask Mr. Davenport, trying to ask nonchalantly. Mr. Davenport nods and wipes some sweat from his forehead.

“I’m so sorry this has happened to you, Skye.” He says sadly. I don’t say anything for a minute.

“So Reuben gives people Talents and so far he hasn’t been successful in the part where they survive after, right?” I ask suddenly, an idea forming.

“Right…” Mr. Davenport says wearily.

I continue. “Well, there’s got be a cure, right? A way to stop it?” I ask, half-hopeful.

Mr. Davenport nods sadly. “Only Reuben has the cure though, Skye.”

I sigh, my plan vanishing. “Where are we going now, then?” I ask.

Logan looks at me briefly before answering. “Home.” He says and I nod to myself.

“Is there anything you need?” Mr. Davenport asks me. I sit up, shakily.

“Chase.” I say, my head and heart telling me so.

Mr. Davenport looks at Logan, and Logan shrugs, picking up his cell phone and dialing Chase’s number.

“His phone is off.” Logan says, almost with relief. I frown, confused.

“What about Brody?” I ask, knowing I sound whiney, but hello, dying over here.

Logan sighs and dials Brody’s number, holding his phone to his ear. “Hey, Brody.” Logan says a few seconds later into the phone. “Is Chase there?” A pause… “Skye woke up.” He says, and then Logan listens as Brody says something on the other end. “Just…meet us somewhere then.” Logan says, frustrated. “Why did you let him go there?” He asks, angrily. Brody says something. “Meet me there, then.” Logan says, frustrated again. “Fine. Goodbye.” Logan hangs up.

Logan turns right and pulls into an empty parking lot by a gas station. We wait in the car, me shivering, the rest of them sweating, until Chase’s car screeches to a stop beside us.

Brody gets out of the drivers side and walks around to the passenger’s side, pulling Chase out of the car. Chase laughs and staggers towards Logan’s car as we all get out.

“Chase?” I ask, frowning as he totters towards me. He grins at me, and kisses me on the cheek.

“Skye!” He says happily, reeking of alcohol. I frown. “I missed you!” He slurs and I sigh.

“This was a mistake.” I say under my breath. Chase frowns, looking like a sad puppy.

“But I love you.” He tells me, walking over to his father and Logan. “Well, hello!” He says loudly, and then laughs. He runs over to his car and climbs up, doing a flip off of the hood of it. Which, okay. Is kind of cool. But he’s drunk.

“I’m in the Olympics.” He says, suddenly and then grins goofily at me. “Skye!” He yells. “Did you know I’m in the Olympics?” He yells over to me. I shake my head.

Chase laughs again and then blinks sleepily. “I’m tired!” He yells over to me. And I can’t help myself, I laugh. I know I shouldn’t encourage him, but he’s really taking my mind off of things, so I’m quite thankful.

“I feel like dancing.” Chase says randomly, gliding over to me. I giggle as he grabs my hands in his and as we dance, in the middle of an empty gas station parking lot to no music.

Logan rolls his eyes and gets into his car where Mr. Davenport and Maggie sit, laughing at Chase and I. Brody snorts.

“Chase, get your a*s in the car!” He yells out, in good humor. Chase keeps my hand and pulls me over to his car, climbing into the back seat, leaving Brody in the front to drive.

Once we’re all in, Brody starts the car and follows Logan’s car down the road.

I sit with my seatbelt off (throwing caution to the wind) and with my head resting against Chase’s chest, his arms around me.

“I love you.” Chase says to me, grinning from ear to ear. I grin back.

“Is that you or the beer talking?” I ask him with a wink. Chase frowns.

“Listen to me.” He says seriously, putting each of his hands on either side of my face. His blue eyes sparkle, as they usually do. “I want to spend my life with you.” He says, dead serious.

I laugh. “Chase, you’re drunk.” I tell him.

He nods. “Let’s go get married in Vegas.” Chase says, grinning now. “What do you say?”

I laugh. “Chase, you’re drunk.” I repeat. He laughs.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m drunk.” He admits, and then puts his head back, closing his eyes.

Chase picks up my hand, his eyes still closed, and kisses the palm of it gently. “Please don’t die, baby.” He says to me suddenly, opening his eyes slightly. I feel something tug at my heart and I swallow nervously.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I tell him, trying a smile. But even when intoxicated, Chase can tell the smile doesn’t reach my eyes.

“Good.” Chase mumbles, eyes drifting shut. I close my own eyes, letting several things tug on my heart some more.

Brody turns around and looks at his brother, soundly sleeping with his arms still around me. He shakes his head, grinning.

“You okay, Skye?” He asks me. I’m still shivering, but other then that I’m fine. Oh, and I’m dying. There’s that, too.

“No.” I say, looking at Chase’s peaceful face and then I look away, laughing without humor. “I’m not.”

I can see Brody clench his jaw—no doubt this isn’t fun for anybody—and he looks out his window for a moment.

“Anybody but you,” Brody mumbles to himself, I think. I sit quietly, Chase’s arms around me and jump when Brody slams his hand against the steering wheel in anger. “Why you?” He asks loudly, voice angry. I flinch and reach out, putting my hand on Brody’s shoulder. His dark brown hair grazes my hand, soft and curling slightly.

His shoulder muscles are tensed in anger and when I put my hand on his shoulder, they relax slightly. I can see the anger rush out of him in a whoosh.

“I’m not scared of dying.” I tell Brody, surprising myself as well as him with the honesty of it. “I’m scared of leaving Chase.” I say softly, my hand brushing across Chase’s cheek as I speak. His eyes flutter but he stays asleep, breathing evenly and looking beautiful, even in sleep where nobody is supposed to look remotely attractive.

“It’s going to kill him.” Brody admits, his voice quiet. I feel my heart squeeze painfully and I shiver again.

“It’s bad enough that I have to die.” I say, heartbrokenly. “But he can’t die with me.” I tell Brody, my eyes not leaving Chase’s sleeping face.

Brody sighs unevenly. “Then we won’t let him.” He says and I nod, agreeing.

Suddenly, I feel very tired so I lean my head back against Chase’s chest and try to sleep. Brody’s worried voice wakes me, though.

“Skye, you’re bleeding.” He says, panicked. I open my eyes and lift my head.

“What? Where?” I ask, feeling fine, only cold and tired. (And, y’know, deathly.) Brody doesn’t have to answer though, because I feel something trickling from my nose and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that it’s the aforementioned blood.

Brody tosses back a Kleenex box and I catch it, holding tissues to my nose to stop the bleeding.

It stops soon, however, and after a minute or two I don’t need any more Kleenex. I lean my head back, closing my eyes after my nose has stopped bleeding.

“I haven’t had a nosebleed since I was seven years old.” I tell Brody, stomach feeling queasy. Brody looks sad, pale, and uncertain.

“When we get to the airport you’ll have to let my dad know you’re new…symptoms.” Brody tells me, and I nod wearily.

Closing my eyes once more, I try to sleep but find that I can’t. There are too many things on my mind.

For one, I’m not ready to die. I’ve lived a fairly good life, with a few tragedies it’s true, but I’m not ready to stop living. I’m not ready to give Chase up. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to give him up.

I’m going to fight this illness—this death—until I can’t anymore. Because I have people that love me, and I’m not going to cause them any unnecessary pain. I mean, it can’t possibly be good times watching someone you care for die.

So, my plan—because I always, always have a plan—is to find Reuben. And to offer him whatever it is that he wants in exchange for my life.

Because I know Reuben.

He doesn’t kill without a purpose. And he wouldn’t kill me unless he had a reason to. The reason, I’m assuming, is that he knows I’ll come running to him, begging for my life. And he’ll offer the cure in exchange for….what? For something.

So I’ve got to be smarter than that. We still have the Adapter that tried to kill me, one of Reuben’s little followers; I can use him to find the Company and then I can…I don’t know. I’ll think of something.

So, my plan’s a little sketchy. Sue me.

I finally fall asleep soon later and when I wake up we’re at the airport. Logan pulls his car up next to Chase’s, and everybody climbs out. I shake Chase gently to wake him and when he doesn’t stir I kiss him fully on the lips. Not to my surprise, he responds then, kissing me back with ardor.

I pull away from him a minute later, shivering—but not from being cold, this time—and smile. “Okay,” I say, laughing. “You’re awake.”

Chase grins and reaches to pull me to him again but I shake my head, climbing out of his car quickly.

“We’re at the airport.” I inform him, nodding my head towards everybody waiting for us. Chase sighs good-naturedly and climbs out of his car. I grab his hand and stay close to him as we walk to the airport.

As we go through security, terminals, and boarding gates, Chase never takes his eyes off of me; thinking, maybe, that if I disappear from his sight I’ll be gone from good. I feel the same need to be near him 24/7, in his sight, in his company.

Because even though this is cheesy—and I know it’s cheesy—every second I’m not with him is a second wasted.

And okay, I’m allowed to sound cheesy and needy and whatever other adjective you want to throw at me. Because I have a week or less left. And any one of these days I could just, poof, die.

So is it so wrong of me to want to spend every one of my last minutes with the person that I love? No, people of the jury, it is not.

“Flight sixteen is ready to board for departure.” A voice announces loudly. Logan, Brody, Maggie, the Adapter and Mr. Davenport all get up, grabbing their bags. Chase looks at me, squeezes my hand and gives me a smile, though I can tell in his eyes that he’s hurting. I smile back, and we get up, grab our bags and follow the crowd boarding for flight sixteen.

Once I’m off the plane the Adapter has no chance. I’m going to use every means necessary to squeeze information from him. This is my life we’re talking about here. If I can’t fight for that, then what can I fight for?

Reviews

[Rusty]

I love how ever chapter makes you want more.....keep it up!!!

[Aimee]

Fantastic chapter!

I would have never guessed that Skye'd be the one to die.
:/

And the little "drunk scene" made me laugh really hard. xD

Hope to see a new chapter soon!
The ending's got me hooked. [: