Chapter 74: An Urge (4)
“So, what now?” Gene grunts with a raw voice, spitting blue-tinged saliva onto the stones and adjusting his collar.
We’ve drunk more blood than water these past days. It isn’t good for us. I know it. He knows it. I can feel the parasites, the worms, and maggots in my stomach. It is in our feces and vomit, but mostly in mine. Even now, I taste iron on my tongue, feel the heat spreading through my veins. It’s a drug, worse than any I’ve ever known, even though I never took any. Moreover, I couldn’t, I had to care for Ren after all.
Only Cham seems untouched. Or at least, he doesn’t let it show. Maybe he doesn’t feel the urge at all, or he’s just stronger at resisting. He’s small, quiet, but there’s something hard in him. I glance at him, noting how his face is lowered, hidden under the shadow of his dark hair.
I reach out and pat his shoulder—both of us dressed now in formal clothing, faces caked in blue makeup to hide our true colors. It’ll last the night and the next day, as long as we don’t sweat too hard or get caught in the rain.
“Just follow me,” I say, voice flat and cold. “And Gene, spit the rest of that shit out of your mouth.”
Gene obeys without complaint. He doesn’t even glance at me as he wipes his lips and hawks a wad of blood onto the street.
Ren would have hated what I’ve become. He’d have tried to talk me down, reason with me. But he’s dead, and I’m all that’s left. So I bear the pain, the agony in my ruined arm, and keep moving.
It hurts. Gods, it hurts so much I want to scream. The tears sting my eyes, and I have to bite down hard not to sob like a child. But I don’t stop.
“Eos...” Cham’s voice is small but clear, cutting through the night. His hand finds the stump of my missing arm. He looks at me with that same expression—sad, lost under the glow of the gas lamps and golden moon.