Phantom Universe
CHAPTER 51: UNIMAGINABLE
16 years old
Stop! It’s there. On the tip of her tongue.
Just say it. Go on. SAY IT!
Her mouth forms the word silently before she tries to add sound to it. A croaky noise comes from her lips.
Coward! she screeches at herself. You stupid coward.
“S—t—op,” she barely whispers. Surprised tears roll down her cheeks as another second passes, time so incredibly slow it’s like she’s controlling it, giving herself the time needed to say the words. Perhaps she is.
“Stop,” she whispers again, her shaky hand covering her mouth with such fright and excitement her eyes have grown wide enough to pop out of her head.
Then it’s like the elastic band around time snaps, and everything goes back to its normal speed. Two more steps and Gage is a goner unless she yells out. She must scream it. He has to hear it.
Her stomach is so sick, her blood so thick and hard in her veins at the fact that she’s about to do something unimaginable. Footsteps slam into the ground to her right as Landon rounds the corner, his eyes wide, yet relieved, that she’s okay. She barely gives him a glance as she turns back to the open door and screams at the top of her lungs.
“STOOOOOOOOOOP!” It’s loud, clear, and very . . . British. Like her mum, though how she can distinguish an accent through her battle cry is a mystery.
Everyone freezes around her—the man with the axe, Gage, and most especially Landon. It’s not that time has stopped; it’s that she’s surprised everyone into a frozen stupor.
Summer points at the man hidden behind the equipment in the room. “Axe!” It comes out on an exhale and is partially just her breath. It’s all she can say, so astonished she got out more than one word. Her eyes are still wide, blue oceans of strain. She’s shaking with sobs. This is it, she thinks. Everything will go downhill from here.
“You spoke,” says Landon with such shock he’s practically speechless himself. He doesn’t even comment on the reason why, just the fact that she did.
At the same time, Gage ducks quickly and shoots his gun/device thingy at the guy with the axe who suddenly goes limp. The axe bonks him on the head, and the blade embeds itself into his calf. Justice. Or did she just condemn herself? Summer quickly covers her mouth in fear and looks between Gage and Landon as if they might punish her, though she’s more worried about Axe Guy, even with his mouth open in a silent scream—just the sight pierces the air. Gage’s hypnotic green eyes meet hers with astonishment and pride.
Pride? That’s not right. That’s the opposite of right. She shakes her head, blinks her eyes, and rubs them just to make sure she comprehended his facial expression correctly. Yup. It’s definitely pride.
Landon hastily wraps an arm around her shoulders and rushes her down the hallway where Mindy and Cameron meet them outside, the rumbling hovercraft causing a roaring wind. Summer’s hair flies into the air as she’s escorted onto the hovercraft in a daze. Rob and Avery sit on either side of Jaden who looks thoroughly pissed, much to Summer’s confusion. The boys, on the other hand, are quite happy to see her and jump up to hug her tightly. Lucy, seemingly out of nowhere, rushes Summer and practically tackles her like a linebacker before they can get to her.
“You’re alive!” she cries joyously. “I thought you were dead. I thought—I thought—I—” Her words are cut off by sobs of joy.
“She’s shaking,” says Rob accusingly over the roar of the hovercraft.
Landon’s still speechless, though he snaps out of it and holds Lucy to him in an embrace of contentment when she pulls free of Summer.
“I meant that Summer’s shaking, not Lucy,” says Rob with a shake of his head as he cautiously approaches her. Ever so carefully, he hugs her and lets her cry—happy tears? Sad tears? She’s truly not sure which—on his grey T-shirt for a few seconds before he steps away awkwardly.
Mindy stands uneasily next to Summer, unsure of what to do, her hands held out uselessly. Summer’s still in a state of shock, unable to hug back or move unless someone leads her to do it. Gage and Cameron board, and the doors slide shut, turning the loud, hectic atmosphere into a silent vastness. Cameron rushes to the front of the hovercraft and leaves the doors of the cockpit open as she slides into the pilot’s seat and taps, commands, and pulls on levers as the hovercraft leaves the ground. Avery joins her and Cameron explains what she’s doing like it’s a class while Rob takes his seat next to Jaden who still looks pissed.
Gage approaches Summer as if she’s a caged zoo animal who’s been set free on her captors. “You . . . spoke.” His voice is soft and low.
“What?” Several voices ring out in disbelief.
Summer shakes her head as if she can deny it, her body rigid and immobile as she stares forward like a soldier in a lineup.
“You did. You shouted.” Gage’s voice isn’t accusing, it’s awestruck—reverent even. “For me.” He’s still wary and doesn’t come too close, afraid she’ll back away. The short distance feels like a million miles of open space to Summer.
What’ll he do? If I speak? What happens now? How do I respond?
“Yes,” whispers Summer, her voice hoarse and weak. Her sapphire eyes snap to his, her body still frozen in place as her chest heaves in fright, tears coating her face and dampening her shirt.
“Oh my God,” says Lucy in admiration.
Admiration? Awe? What’s wrong with these people? thinks Summer. Their reactions are the complete opposite of what she’s known her whole life. These are the kind of Oooohs and Aaaahs she receives from Captain Travis’s guests when he boasts about his silent slave. This isn’t how one reactions when she speaks.
Gage takes another step closer, and she flinches out of instinct. It feels as though all her advances, all his hard work with trying to make her trust him, has disappeared in her moment of weakness. I’m so weak. Gage hesitates for only a second before he takes one last step toward her and engulfs her in a hug. Her muscles tense for a second before she relaxes in his arms and lets the weight of everything fall onto him. All of it, even the scars that mar her body temporarily stop their psychological babble of reinforcement.
“Thank you, so, so much,” he breathes into her ear. “You rescued me. I can’t imagine the strength it took to warn me.”
Strength? She shakes her head, disbelieving. No, speaking is definitely her weakness.
“Yes,” he disagrees. “What you did took a lot of courage and strength.”
She presses her head against his chest and hears his heart beating powerfully. Weakness or strength, it was worth it just to hear this again.