Cade had once told me that he was the only person I trusted enough to fall apart in front of, and he was right. When he’d been with me he’d made me strong enough to allow myself to let go of my tight self control. I’d trusted him enough to let him see my weakness, my cowardice, my fear, my inner self, and he had loved me for it anyway. He had stripped my soul bare, had made me fall in love with him, and he had leftme. He’d sacrificed himself for me when I would have preferred that he hadn’t. He’d left me in this hideous world, one that I was tired of, one that I hated. If it wasn’t for my siblings I wasn’t sure I would continue on, that I would keep fighting. There wasn’t much left to fight for.
I hated my thoughts, hated the weakness they revealed about myself. Most people would want to keep fighting, everyone else in this building did. But I was a coward; I was weak, broken, and barely able to breathe throughout the increasingly long days and nights. Everyone around me was a fighter, a survivor. I was proud of them all. That pride did not extend to myself. I would not leave my siblings, but it was a constant battle to go on forthem. If something ever happened to them…
No, it couldn’t. It simply couldn’t. I wasn’t strong enough to survive that too.
I could only try to survive the loss of Cade now. I would not fall apart, I would not cry. I would not give into my weakness, not now, not ever again. There was no point in crying. I still had Abby, Aiden, Bret, Molly, and as much as Jenna and I didn’t always get along, she was a part of our group. She was a connection to a past life forever lost to us all.
I would not fall apart. I had suffered losses before. I had watched my father die; I had lost my mother. I would endure this, I would continue to breathe, I would continue to walk, and I would continue to eat. I would wake up every day, and I would go to sleep every night, and I would continue to go on living without Cade, even though I was dead inside.
CHAPTER 3
“Did you get any sleep?”
I blinked blearily at Bishop as he stuck a piece of cotton against my skin and turned to grab a band-aid. “Some,” I lied.
I pat the band-aid into place as I slid off the makeshift table. He eyed me carefully, his grey eyes red rimmed behind his glasses. He couldn’t say much to me as it was apparent that he hadn’t gotten any sleep either. Though his lack of sleep was for far different reasons than mine. The creature was still on the counter, splayed out like the specimen it was. Bishop and Aiden had stayed up all night taking samples, dissecting, and studying the monster. I eyed it wearily but didn’t go any closer.
“Why do you keep taking samples of my blood? It hasn’t done you any good yet.”
Bishop shrugged absently as he placed the syringe full of blood into a test tube. “Maybe one day I’ll get access to some real equipment and I’ll be able to run some real tests. Until then, maybe something will come up.”
“Or maybe you’ll discover someone else with a blood type other than O.”
He gave me a wry smile, but I knew he didn’t believe that. He was set in his belief that my blood held the key to helping the frozen people. Convinced that because my blood type was different than the other survivors that I was somehow unique. Everyone else that had survived The Freezing, or at least the ones Bishop had encountered were all type O, I was not. Bishop was convinced that there was something different about me, convinced that there was some secret in my blood that he had to uncover. I thought he was wrong, but I was willing to give him my blood just in case he wasn’t. If there was some small chance that he wasn’t wrong, then I was going to help in any way I could. There may be no hope for my mom and Cade, but there were other families out there that needed it.
“And if you don’t find the answers?” I asked quietly.
I was immediately sorry I had asked the question. His forehead furrowed in confusion, his soft grey eyes darkened with worry. It was obvious that such a thought had never even occurred to him. Bishop had never once considered the possibility that he would not find the equipment he needed, or the answers he sought. I admired his dogged determination and optimism; I leaned more toward pessimism. I wasn’t sure if I’d always been that way, or if surviving the car accident had changed me. I couldn’t recall the person I’d been before my father’s death, if I had been optimistic or not. I knew I had once been a child, but at the age of nine I became an adult, and I had never gone back to being a kid again.
I didn’t want to remember what I had been like before the accident, the person I had been, but I thought she may have been different. That Imay have been different. And I refused to think of those couple of years when I had been real young, when my father had still been alive, and Cade had always been with Aiden and I. Those years when Cade had been my friend and near constant companion, when I had loved him without knowing what love was. It had been such a sweet simple love between us, freely given and returned. Then Cade’s parents had been killed and he had drifted away into a world of hurt and solitude. Retreated from me, and left me, without ever explaining why. I’d been hurt by his actions, but as time moved on and I aged and grew, I had forgotten all about our bond. Until The Freezing had occurred, and we had been thrust back together, and that love had surged to the forefront once more.
“Oh, I will.”
I had forgotten all about Bishop until he spoke again. I managed a wan smile as I focused my attention back on the doctor. I wanted to believe with him, wanted to believe inhim, but I didn’t really believe in anything anymore. “I hope so doc.”
His eyes narrowed on me. “Are you ok Bethany?”
“I’m fine,” I assured him halfheartedly. My gaze turned slowly toward the dead alien on the counter. “Do you know how it made itself look like that little girl yet?”
Bishop’s attention was diverted from me and once again returned to his new favorite toy. “No, not yet, but there are plenty of examples of mimicry in the world. The king snake looks like the coral snake; therefore predators will avoid the king snake for fear that it is poisonous. That’s what is known as batesian mimicry. These creatures appear to be displaying both batesian and aggressive mimicry though.”
Bishop had moved closer to the creature. For the first time, beneath the awe and wonder, I saw true fear on his features. I swallowed heavily, discomfited by the look in his eyes. “What’s aggressive mimicry?” I asked quietly.
“It is a form of mimicry where the predators share similar traits with something harmless in order to lure in their prey. The alligator snapping turtle uses its pink tongue to lure in fish that believe the tongue is a worm. The fish that try to eat the worm are eaten instead.” Much like when Sarah had tried to help the girl, and instead been destroyed. Goose pimples were beginning to break out on my flesh; I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the hideous thing on the counter. “But animals that exhibit aggressive mimicry don’t strongly resemble the creature they are trying to lure in, not like the coral and king snake. Not like this thing resembling us.