tatum noble, no one knows him, seeing as though he had been running and hiding for the majority of his life. it was a bizarre thing for him to be in one place for a long period, yet he did, because of the briggs family, more so the adopted son, harl...
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Tatum couldn't move. He was surprised least to say. Particularly because he didn't envision Austin actually stabbing Baron with the knife, but it happened. Expect the unexpected.
Three other teens expressed hysteria, concern, and anger. Some for Baron and others for Austin. Their words also expressed their emotions. But Tatum... He felt numb. Absolutely nothing.
"This is super-duper fucked!" Tatum cursed as he watched Harlan carry Baron's unconscious and bleeding body into Everett's room while repeatedly saying "shit". He placed Baron's body against the bottom of the bed.
"We need him up here," Harlan said to Everett. Luna swore as she ran to the bathroom for a towel. Tatum and Blake just watched.
"What the fucks happening to him?" Harlan asked.
"How should I know?" Everett asked. "Just hold him."
Harlan started breathing rapidly. Which was strange. He backed away, placed his hand on the doorframe of the bathroom, and closed his eyes. Tatum crept over in worry.
"Harlan?" Tatum called out. Harlan didn't provide a response.
"Someone help me," Everett ordered. Luna knelt down beside Baton and Everett.
"Oh, he's still bleeding!" Luna told. "We need to do something to help him!"
"No, we're not- we're not taking him to a hospital," Harlan spoke, his breathing fleeing him. "Fuck! I can't breathe! Why can't I catch my breath?"
"Why are you looking at me?" Everett inquired.
"Because you're giving me a panic attack," Harlan pointed at the Lang boy, his hand shaking as he did.
"No," Everett let out. "I'm not."
"Why are my hands shaking?" Harlan questioned.
"That's your anxiety, not mine," Everett declared. The two engaged in a heated staring contest.
"Can we stop fighting and figure out what to do with him?" Luna suggested.
Tatum sighed before walking over to the bleeding boy on the floor. His hand reached for the bandage that covered his stab wound but Blake slapped it away.
"The fuck?" Tatum let out.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Blake asked.
"Checking his damn wound," Tatum replied as he peeled back the bandage. The amount of blood made Tatum squeamish. And he never got squeamish. "Fuck me, man."
"Guys, you can literally see the silver in his blood," Blake announced. "Oh, God. How do we know it's not the silver that's keeping him from changing back?"
