Surviving Patorum

Chapter 23

I try not to make my shoes echo throughout the tunnels as we slowly return to the Hub. Paige and I are walking side by side, but the King family watches us with every step. I can feel their probing eyes observing our backs, the hair on the rear of my neck is standing up, and my body is aware of every movement I make. It's annoying, really. We're allowed to go outside now, and they're still fixated on the unfair social system in the compound. Can't we just all view each other as the same? I mean, I should take my advice, but still. Jamie's comments hurt me, and I'm tired of feeling inferior. So, I will continue to watch them closely. Paige is right. I'll stop with the Richling remarks.

My eyes reach the front of the group, where Jacobs leads everyone through the tunnels. He's gripping his firearm with white knuckles, and his head is rocking side by side, scanning for anything dangerous. I don't know how I feel about Jacobs. His father is a drunk and a Grub. I need to stop thinking like that. He has character—an "I'm always pessimistic but also assertive at the same time." He gives off a dark vibe, like he's seen some shit. The dark circles under his eyes make him look like the toll of being a guard has caught up with him. How did he get good enough grades to be a guard in the first place? Grubs barely make it into Cultivation, let alone becoming part of Mr. Smith's military. Ethan, stop thinking about him like that.

On the other hand, Wellings gives me a softer vibe. His southern accent certainly helps the "I'm easy to talk to" part of him. He was the first one I talked to when I woke up, and he indeed made me feel like I wasn't an outcast, like all the other guards have made me think. He's at the back of the group, shuffling Red along as nicely as possible. Red's stumbling annoys me. His footsteps echo through the tunnels like explosions. Speaking of Red, how the hell was he allowed down in the compound in the first place? I know he's Jacobs' father, but he doesn't give off the assertive parent type to have a guard as a son. How did they afford this place? Or did Mr. Smith also do charity work for others and give them tickets? It's a miracle that Red didn't get eaten while helping everyone block the gate.

Seeing that Jacobs is walking far enough in front of Paige and me, I nudge her with my elbow. "You know what happened, right?" My whisper tickles my throat.

She pulls her head close, my breath hitching in my throat. "Yeah, you got shot. I freaked the fuck out and almost tore off Jacobs' arm. How are you alive?"

"That wasn't the first time I was shot," I say.

Paige hits me with her arm. "You got shot? When?"

"When Dally and I were getting into the Control Room. Beasley shot me."

"How did you survive two gunshot wounds?" She whispers.

"I guess I healed faster than I could bleed out."

"Are you like—not able to die?" Paige asks.

"I have no clue." I shrug my shoulders. "But I can tell that the bite wound on my leg is already healed. My chest hurts a tad still, but it's just sore. Nothing like the pain I had when I was shot."

"But you passed out. Did you pass out last time?"

"No. I don't know what was different. I was shot in the chest last time too."

"Maybe it's because you were just shot not too long ago. Maybe passing out was your body's reaction to healing you faster. Maybe it's like a windup toy, and your string was still pulled out." She sounds more fascinated than anything, and I can't help but cringe. This isn't a miracle or a gift. It's a fucking curse. I'm a time bomb, waiting for someone to take me away and hide me forever.

"Could be," I say. "So I'm guessing everyone knows I can heal myself?"

Paige's eyes look down to her feet. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I couldn't hide that you didn't die after being shot. I had to explain everything to everyone."