Generation Omega: Revealed (Originverse Book 1) by Daphne McQueen

Author:Daphne McQueen [McQueen, Daphne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-11T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER 29

ETHAN

I should call her back. I should apologize again. I should tell her I’m great and everything is fine, but I can’t lie to her any more than I already did. I can’t gloss over the truth that I’m legit trapped in a serial killer’s torture chamber, bound to a table. Bullets tore through my body, and whatever drugs he gave me are wearing off fast. Tillie burned me, my right hand more than my left, but she’d already burned me through that oven mitt that might have been more decorative than useful. A fake oven mitt—Auntie Jem is going to hear about that.

Auntie Jem’s apartment, the attic, the nest, every wonderful moment Tillie and I spent there—all of it flashed in my mind as I shook hands with death. I should be dead, and I need to know why I’m not.

So close… I was so close to discovering whether the afterlife is real and whether it’s a place of reunions. I was seconds from knowing whether my father was standing just beyond the gates, waving and welcoming me home. If the omegaverse is real, then meetups in heaven are totally plausible. Imagining that stolen reunion hurts worse than all my other pains, and no amount of meds or time are going to heal it. I was almost there and now I’m here. And here sucks in more ways than I can count.

My stomach takes a queasy dive as guilt grabs hold of me. The idea that I regret getting a second chance, when so many others don’t, betrays everything my father taught me. Life is a gift, not a curse, and I’ll work to remember that later. Right now, I’m going to feel whatever I need to feel. I’m just glad no one can see me weep over a missed opportunity I’m ashamed to even want.

It hurts to cry, but I don’t give a damn. The sting of my salty tears in the cuts and scrapes I won in that fight just remind me that life is made of millions of moments. This is just one—a shitty one, but just one. The next will be better, the same, or worse, but it’s still just another moment, a single piece in the million-piece puzzle that is my life. It’s not until the end that we can actually see the image our lives created and the legacy we left for others who might learn something from our horrible and beautiful experiences.

All I know right now is that my end isn’t here yet, no matter how conflicted I am about that. If my body weren’t so wrecked, I’d be able to deal, but this pain is like nothing I’ve ever felt. It’s not just the bullet wounds and the burns—there’s something tearing at me from inside. It’s like barbed wire is wrapped around my rib cage, while a force I don’t understand keeps tightening it. And my hand is absolute torture. I keep checking to make sure nothing is stabbing me through the bandage, but hey, maybe the killer shoved needles in my hand just for fun.

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