Authors: Anya Parrish
Tags: #teen, #teen fiction, #Young Adult, #Young adult fiction, #Thriller
Penny’s dead. Of course she is. Didn’t I know that, someplace deep inside? Isn’t that why I didn’t question Rachel when she said that there are people here who needed to be hurt?
I reach up with one trembling hand and peel off the sensors taped to my chest. “That place … sucked.” My voice is gravelly and dry, but I can speak. Good. I want the people Rachel and I hurt to know exactly why they’re hurting.
Duh. I told you, they’re stupid and boring.
Rachel reaches for my IV. This time I let her, watching as she removes the tape and slides the needle free with expert fingers.
If they’d really wanted to keep you two asleep, they should have given you a room alone together instead of a stupid pool with monkeys.
Smart girl,
a deep voice says.
My head turns in Jesse’s direction. His eyes are open and I know the voice in my mind was his.
Can you hear me too?
I ask, and I’m rewarded with a small nod. He reaches for the sensors on his own chest and I practically fall out of the bed in my rush to get to him. Thankfully my legs are sturdier than I expected. After a few wobbly moments, I’m steady on my feet and my hands barely tremble as I disconnect his tubes and wires.
When he’s free, I help him sit before giving in to the urge to throw my arms around his neck and hug him again in a place that feels real. “I love you. I’m so glad—”
Ew. I can see your pruny white butt,
Rachel says.
You realize those gowns don’t have backs, right?
I step away from Jesse with a blush and reach for the back of my gown. He lifts an eyebrow. “She’s a real sweetheart, isn’t she?” His voice is as scratchy as mine, but he sounds stronger than he looks.
“You can really hear her?”
“I can hear her.” He looks over my shoulder. “And I can
see
her.”
“What?” I follow his gaze. It’s impossible, but he’s looking right at where Rachel is perched on the edge of my bed. “But how—”
Can you two stop talking? I’m ready to kill people,
Rachel whines, snatching my discarded IV and stabbing it into the bed beneath her.
“No killing,” I say, then hurry on before her pout can turn to protest. “But anything else is fine. Just get us through the hospital to a car.”
That’s it? I can just … go crazy? Totally crazy?
“You can go nuts.”
Rachel squeals and jumps off the bed as Jesse swings his legs around and eases onto his feet. “Nuts sound good,” he says. “Underwear sounds even better.”
“Rachel!” I hiss. She stops at the door and turns back to me. “Bonus points if you can take me and Jesse by a place where we can get food and clothes on the way out.”
What kind of bonus points?
She sounds suspicious.
I look up at Jesse, at the scar tissue that’s kept new hair from growing on one side of his head, and find inspiration. “I’ll let you see if you can breathe fire.”
She laughs.
Of course I can. I can do anything you imagine I can do.
She takes a breath and aims at the bed I’ve just crawled out of. Fire explodes from her bloody mouth, a white-orange burst of flame that ignites the sheets in seconds. The pillow goes up next. She turns back to me with her hands propped smugly on her hips.
Now let’s go wreak some havoc!
Rachel dances out the door, but Jesse and I stand where we are, watching the bed burn. After a moment he takes my hand and we follow her into the hall.
Outside, people are already screaming.
About the Author
Anya Parrish was born in Louisiana, grew up in Arkansas, went to school in New York, and found herself in California. She lives in Sonoma County with her family.
Damage
is her first novel. Visit her at anyaparrish.com.
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