The Dark and Hollow Places - Carrie Ryan [17]
“Annah,” he says, a tinge of apology and wariness in his voice.
I keep walking, my hip aching where I was kicked and my head throbbing from where I hit it during the fall. The pain becomes overwhelming and I stop and take a deep breath and then stagger away from the sound of Catcher.
He shuffles around on the landing, muttering curses, and I hear him start after me. But I push deeper into the darkness. The stairs end and I stumble on solid ground, not knowing where to turn, where to go next. It’s disorienting having no idea where the walls are or where the platform ends—where the tracks are. I’m lost in a sea of black nothingness that crawls along my skin. Catcher trails after me, his footsteps never far behind.
“You said Elias sent you. Where is he?” I hate asking but I have to know. I cross my arms, needing something to hold on to. The darkness makes me dizzy. My head throbs, pounding from where I hit it. I shake it, trying to stop the spinning, but it just makes my brain hit against my skull with an agonizing thud.
Catcher comes near but doesn’t touch me. I hear his breathing, feel his heat. His earlier words echo in my mind, making me feel stupid and worthless, and I dig my fingers into my arms, fighting against the unwanted emotions.
“He’s still with the Recruiters,” Catcher says. My heart jolts, a fluttering pain. My chin trembles.
“He’s okay?” I can only whisper the words. If I say them out loud, I might scare the hope away.
“He promised he was on his way to the Dark City,” Catcher answers, and I squeeze my eyes shut and press my palm to my mouth, trying not to let this stranger hear the way my body shakes with relief.
I don’t say anything in response, wondering if I can trust him. If Elias trusted him. The floor seems to tilt under me and I can’t tell if it’s because of the sparks in my vision or that the ground beneath us is uneven. My stomach starts to roil, my head throbbing harder.
“I’m sorry, Annah,” he finally says, his voice softer. He moves closer to me but keeps some distance. Still, his warmth makes me shiver. My body starts to tip and I throw out an arm to stay steady and balanced.
“It’s just …” He hesitates. I hear what sounds like him running his hands through his hair. I try to remember what he looks like from the brief glimpses on the roof. The gleam of the moon on his neck when he threw his head back to laugh. He’s taller than I am, I know that. I can picture his broad shoulders, long fingers that he cupped around the Unconsecrated women’s arms.
Nausea inside me grows too full, the blackness spinning around me faster and faster. My stomach heaves and I swallow, press my palm harder against my mouth, trying to keep from throwing up. The dark is too heavy. I feel as though I’m drowning.
I can smell his blood on my hand, feel it drying and cracking on my skin. It’s like a metallic sheen on the back of my tongue. I double over, retching.
“Annah,” Catcher shouts, lunging toward me. He wraps his arm over my shoulder and I fall against his strength, my legs losing all sensation, my fingers going numb.
I retch again, my back arching as I heave, my mouth filling with saliva that starts to choke me. I gasp for air, my body feeling like it’s floating. Bright spots flare in my vision, almost beautiful, like stars with darker voids swallowing them.
“Annah,” Catcher yells again, holding me close. I slip along him, falling to the ground as the world tilts and sways and I don’t know what’s up and what’s down. My head screams pain, my skull too small to hold it all in.
He lays me on my back and runs his hands up my body, over my arms and legs and finally along my neck until he’s cupping my cheeks in his palms. His pulse beats against my skin, hot. My eyes flutter, the heat so nice. Something to focus on. Something to curl up against as chills spike through the rest of my body.
“My blood,” he says. He’s leaning over me, close now. I can feel his breath, taste the desperation in his voice. “Did you touch it?” He holds