I tuck my arm under his and heave myself off the floor. “Shut up, Mack.”
He stumbles as he holds onto me, but I get him standing on both legs. Well, almost. He can’t put weight on the right one from the bullet in his thigh, but he’s still stronger than an average human.
And so am I.
I trudge through the living room, past Jason moaning on the ground.
“Close your eyes,” I say to him as we pass by.
“Jules . . .” he breathes. “You’ll get hurt if you try this . . . it’s . . . not . . . worth . . . it.”
“If you keep talking like that,” I say, pushing us through the door of my apartment and dragging him toward the exit stairs, “I’m going to have to throw you into a black hole.”
I’ve taken this spiral staircase so many times I can do the steps with my eyes closed, internally counting each number. My muscles are aching, and my chest is heaving. The dark green scales on my arms are brightening now. Something inside me is coming alive.
When we make it to the outside air, I brace myself for the crowd that’s gathered down the street. People with signs tacked to wooden planks, bobbing up and down with their feet against the pavement. People with their angry fists in the air, chanting about purity and men and women.
Fuck. We’re gonna die.
“You’re not gonna die,” I whisper. “You’re not gonna die.”
We’re still hidden by the overhang of the exit at the side of my building, the alley narrow and dark, George’s shop in view.
George. I think of all the times I’ve seen him. His gentle smile. His relentless kindness.
I wish I could do it all differently. If I could, I would.
But it’s too late for that. Now is the time for forward movement.
My brain does the math on the quickest route to my car, which is parked on the side of the building, just the other side of the alley from George’s shop.
“Now or never.”
Mack gives a faint nod, his breath heavy in my ears, his body even heavier against my shoulders.
We emerge out into the open.
Eyes turn on us, and people make strange faces as if their brains are computing what it is exactly they’re looking at. I know it’s only a matter of seconds until they realize.
“Almost there,” I pant. “Don’t look at them.”
We trip down the curb, and the car is in sight.
“Whoa, what’s that?” A man points to us.
“I bet it’s a TikTok thing,” someone says.
“That’s not a TikTok thing, that’s a fish monster! Fish monster!” another person yells.
“Oh, shit.” I almost fall. I’m trying to move my legs as fast as they can go.
We need to get into the car now.
A man with a sign catches my eye. He’s making a run for it, and others are coming up the street behind him. I won’t be able to protect us. Not either of us.
“Get the fuck out of the way!” I elbow someone off us and reach the passenger door.
The man is running full force. This is it. He’s going to take us out. No matter how quickly I drag myself and Mack into the car, we’ll never make it.
“I’m gonna kill you, you fucking fish monster!” The man’s voice breaks through despite the loudness of the crowd.
I stop in place and turn to face him, freeze really, because I see one deadly branch of fate sprawled out before me.
He’s almost here, and I close my eyes, lean my head in toward Mack’s near-lifeless body, and prepare for the worst.
But then . . . nothing.
“Go! Go now!”
My eyes pop open at the voice.
“George!” I exhale. “Oh my god!”
George has the man by the arms, holding him back like a bucking bronco. “Hurry!”
I nod, clawing at the door until I find the handle. I help Mack fold into the car. My arms are numb from holding him up. His pearly opalescent coloring is turning a pale white. The blood running down his body is stark in comparison.
I catch George’s eye one more time before I shut the door. He gives me a nod, and I give one back.
