Come Back To Me by Mila Gray

Author:Mila Gray [Gray, Mila]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-06-15T20:52:24+00:00

floating outside my body. This can’t be happening. It’s

not real. It’s just a dream.

I find myself standing somehow in front of the door. I

unlock it. I open it. Kit. Riley. Kit. Riley. Which is it?

Kit’s father blinks at me. He’s been crying. His eyes are

red, his cheeks wet. He’s still crying in fact.

‘Jessa,’ Kit’s father says in a husky voice, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Who?’ I hear myself ask. ‘Who is it?’

‘Can I come in?’ he asks, his attention now fixed on my

mom.

‘Who? Who is it?’ I repeat.

My mom’s hands are on my shoulders. She’s trying to

pull me away from the doorway, but I refuse to budge.

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Mila Gray

I’m distantly aware that I’ve started crying and a voice in

my head is snapping at me to pull it together, but I can’t.

‘Who?’ I yell.

He closes his eyes as though praying, and when he

opens them it’s disorientating because I see Kit – the same

cobalt blue eyes rimmed at the edges with black.

The blood is pounding in my ears is so loudly I barely

hear the name.

I fall away from the door, reeling backwards as though

he’s slapped me, my brain whirring, struggling to process

what he’s just said. The room spins like a carnival ride

and I find myself on my knees. In the background some-

one is crying. A rough, keening sound as though they’re

being hollowed out with some medieval torture device.

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Kit

When I come to, it takes me a few seconds to piece to-

gether where I am. I stagger blindly to my feet, confused

and lurching like a drunk, aware only distantly of a sting-

ing sharp pain drilling through my side and that my

brain feels like a ten tonne weight rattling loose inside

my skull. An explosion. The pieces start to come together,

fragments of memory jarring loose. A bomb. Oh shit.

Riley!

My ears are ringing, the roar of the blast still echoing

through me. I cough my way through a cloud of dust and

debris towards the door. Riley. Fuck. Where is he? I

stumble frantically towards the gate but nothing remains

of it, only rubble and thick black smoke eerily lit from

behind by the floodlights. For several seconds I just stand

there, coughing, my eyes streaming, trying to understand.

Where’s the gate gone? Where’s Riley gone?

I turn in a circle on the spot. Where the hell is he?

‘Riley?’ I yell.

Flames lick at the sky and an orange haze mushrooms

over the compound. Suddenly the alarm cuts through the

ringing in my ears, a siren blare that sounds as if it’s

coming from some place deep inside me. And then I hear

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the sound of boots stampeding, people yelling over me. I

hear my name, but it sounds as if someone is calling to

me from down a long, dark tunnel.

I’m dragged to my feet and someone tries to pull me

away from the gate post, but I wrench myself free and

start running – a limping half-jog, the pain in my side

slowing me down.

‘Riley,’ I yell again, spinning in a circle. Swallowed by

the dust

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