Dark Matter - The Mors Mortis Trilogy Book 2

Chapter Seventeen - Guilt and Grief

The moment Parker's gun went off, something inside Leah snapped. She'd already been teetering on the edge, trying to control the swell of her fear, the hunger of her ghosts.

The whole way here, her heart had been in her throat, and the moment she'd kicked the door open and seen Jared on the floor, covered in blood, she'd faltered, her restraint cracking long enough for the dead to flood her senses. They rode her anger and terror until they surrounded her, but even their whispers weren't enough to make her let them free, to let herself fall completely into that abyss.

But then Parker pulled the trigger, and Jared's head was flung backwards, blood splattering the walls.

That was when she lost it. Completely, involuntarily lost it.

A scream roared up inside of her and spilled over her lips, the air in the room shivering with fury and grief as thousands of ghosts ripped their way into this world and rushed at Parker. They broke his neck, tore his bones, pulled him apart piece by piece before he had time to turn his gun on her.

The sound was like wet sticks snapping, cracking through the air around her, but Leah barely noticed. Instead, she collapsed beside Jared, a cry welling up in her throat.

"Jared?" Leah whispered, choking back a sob at the glassy stillness of his blue eyes, the raw flesh at his temple where the bullet had entered, blood slicking his hair back and glinting in the darkness. She could see his other wounds now too, they compassed his body; bullet holes and bruises, blood rimming round the edges, it's flow slowing without a heart to pump it.

Nonononononono.

She tried to grab him, pull him up, hold him, but he was unresponsive. Unmoving and heavy.

"No, no, no, no, JARED!"

She was screaming now, tears running down her face as she pulled him into her, grasping at him desperately, hoping she'd feel something, anything. Some sign of life.

"Wake up," Leah croaked, staring at him with an intensity that made her eyes burn. "Jared, please."

His eyes were distant, empty, like he'd caught a piece of the sky in them, and it suddenly hit her.

Jared was dead. He was dead because he'd tried to help her. This was her fault.

Leah wrenched away from him, pulling back as her stomach caught up with the smell of iron and guts in the air. She heaved, sobs wracking their way up her throat, and curled into a ball, her entire body shivering.

If she'd just realised what was happening sooner. If she'd arrived five minutes earlier...

There was a creak behind her and a shadow fell over the walls as someone breathed out a shallow gasp.

"Holy shit."

Leah spun around, a snarl on her lips as the ghosts reared their heads once more. There was an otherworldly fury raging inside her. Fury at herself, at the rebels, at this whole world. For a moment, it was so consuming, she didn't care who had appeared. She just wanted to rip, and tear and hurt. She wanted to scream until her vocal chords were shredded, bleed until her mind started fading. Because she couldn't handle this. She couldn't handle this guilt. She couldn't handle this grief.

But then the newcomer spoke, their voice soft, as if they were approaching a cornered animal.

"It's okay, Leah. It's okay, it's me."

Leah's vision blurred into focus. Tai's hair almost looked blue in the moonlight, his hands were held out, his eyes dark with worry, and her ghosts slowly dissolved, drifting away on the breeze like smoke.