Random Sh*t Flying Through the Air by Jackson Ford

Author:Jackson Ford
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2020-07-06T23:00:00+00:00

THIRTY-FOUR

Teagan

A medical tent in a disaster relief camp is a shitty place to grieve. And it’s definitely a shitty place to plan your next move.

It’s noisy. Crowded. Stinks to high heaven: mud and sweat and, weirdly, the citrusy tang of orange juice. Like someone hung up a cheap air freshener. We have to crowd in close around Reggie’s hospital bed, which is shoved up against a corner of the tent, the bed frame pushing against the thick, off-white fabric.

Africa is crouched down next to Annie, who has her back against the wall of the medical tent. She hasn’t said a word yet – she’s just sitting there, head on her arms, like she’s sleeping. Africa’s been trying to talk to her, but clearly it isn’t going too well. The tent is loud, the air filled with shouts and groans and barked commands, which is making the argument I’m having with Reggie even more difficult than it is already.

“We can’t,” I tell her.

“We don’t have a choice.”

“Of course we have a fucking choice.”

“What do you think is going to happen if you go after him right now?” Reggie’s brown skin is almost grey, and the crow’s feet around her eyes are even deeper than usual. “That’s not smart, Teagan.”

“Yeah, because what’s smart is all of us staying here and trying to convince these people –” I wave behind me at the chaotic mess of patients, soldiers and doctors “– to let us get on the horn to Washington. Hey, hi, we’re a secret government agency – no for real – and we need to jump on one of your satellite phones and call up our commander in the Pentagon so she can tell us what to do about the kid who can cause earthquakes.”

“Will you keep your voice down?” I’ve never seen Reggie look this frustrated, this angry that she can’t just climb out of her bed.

“I don’t even see why we’re talking about this. I’m going back out there, I’m gonna find that boy and I’m gonna—”

“What, Teagan? What are you going to d—?” Reggie coughs, her weakened lungs protesting.

“I’m gonna stop him. Obviously. Africa, back me up here.”

At my question, he slowly turns his head to look at me. His face is gaunt.

“Back me up,” I say. But it’s getting harder and harder to put any energy into my words. Like trying to sing a high note when your vocal chords are shredded.

Africa gives a helpless shrug. “I suppose.”

“Come on, dude. You can do better than that.”

He says nothing. Just turns back to Annie.

“You aren’t—” Reggie coughs again. “You aren’t thinking strai—” The coughing intensifies, her shoulders hitching as she hacks. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

I have never heard Reggie swear, and I have definitely never heard her take God’s name in vain. Not that I’m about to bring her up on it. He hasn’t exactly been doing a bang-up job lately.

It’s starting to dawn on me that Paul is really gone. It feels like a hangover – like that horrible

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