Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
I can imagine my mom eagerly agreeing to help with a project that was billed as an effort to help prevent and treat diseases. She was passionate about how undervalued plants are in medicine. And if she changed her mind when she found out the project’s true mission, I shouldn’t hold any of this against her.
I don’t really. I was just blindsided by the news. Completely unprepared to find out my mom was partially responsible for what’s going on here, even if she didn’t intend to be.
Niran leads the way, Amira behind him. I follow Amira, and Marcus walks behind me.
It’s raining. Not one of Virginia’s superstorms, but a regular rain shower, rivulets of water pouring onto us from tree branches. I don’t mind it; it’s actually nice to cool off.
We trek through the jungle in silence for more than an hour, the usual bird calls and monkey chatter quieter due to the rain. Even though I know we need to stay quiet in case there are Tiders nearby, I don’t like it.
I’m alone with my thoughts, and none of them are good. No one but me and Marcus can see the vines sliding along the ground beside me. I’ll tell Amira about the vines soon, but not yet.
We’re stopped at a small stream for a water break when Amira asks, “Is there any way you could reverse engineer the aromium? Like work backward from it to create one of the flowers?”
I shake my head. “No. I’d need a seed.”
“Jerk me?” Niran offers Amira a piece of beef jerky from his pack, grinning over his quip.
“Pass.”
He turns to me and I shake my head. Marcus just flips him off.
“Damn.” Niran bites a chewy end off the long stick. “You guys are like a commercial for depression medication.”
Marcus catches my attention and angles his head to the side, asking me to follow him. He leads me about fifteen yards away, where we can talk without being overheard.
“You okay?” he asks.
I shrug. “I guess?”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No. I think I just need time.”
He’s wearing a gray T-shirt and dark-green canvas pants today, my eyes roving over his chest and arms. There’s not a single part of the real me that wants to be in the mood right now, but aromium doesn’t care how I’m feeling. It’s making me want to drop to my knees and unfasten Marcus’s pants.
Use him. Fuck him. Take his power.
I furrow my brow, looking at him and speaking softly. “Does the aromium just make you want sex, or is it ... more? I feel urges to use you and ... I guess, take advantage of your desire.”
“It’s the aromium. It tells me the same things.”
I glance at Niran and Amira. “And you never feel any of that about Amira?”
He shakes his head. “Only you. It amplifies real feelings, and you’re the only woman I want. Why, are you drawn to anyone else?”
“No. Just you.”
He takes my hand, his expression solemn. “I know you’re mad at me, but if you need something, tell me.”
“You mean sex?” I glance at Niran and Amira again.
A smile quirks on his lips. “No, but also ... yes. It’s not what I meant, but if you say the word, we’ll find a place and make it happen.”
“You meant like moral support.” I fight a smile.
“I meant like anything. If you need someone to yell at—”
I roll my eyes. “If I yell at you, it’s because you deserve it. Not because you’re my benevolent punching bag.”
“That’s fair. What I’m trying to say is I’m here if you need me.”
“Marcus.”
We look over to Niran, who’s giving us a questioning look; he and Amira both packed back up and ready to go.
Marcus exhales through his nostrils. “Why’d we bring them?”
“To keep us on track.”
I bend and fill my canteen from the stream, looking up at Marcus. “So it’s not just me who has a relative who helped make aromium. You, Virginia and Pax do, too.”
He nods. “But that’s a conversation for another time. Niran’s right, we need to get moving.”
We resume our walk, Marcus and Niran checking to our right and Amira and I watching to the left for any sign of the bright-blue flower. There are orange, red, yellow, and even purple flowers, but not a blue one in sight.
“Oh!” Niran points, all of us turning.
There’s a flash of bright blue, but it’s moving.
“That’s a fucking bird,” Marcus said.
“Oh.”
Amira reaches for her bow. “Is it a regular bird, or is it like those mutant mantises?”
“Regular bird,” Marcus says. “Keep moving.”
We only stop when we need to pee or refill our canteens, and we reach the volcano late in the afternoon. Our boots are still wet from the rain. We have to slowly climb the volcano, our shoes slipping on the wet rock. On days like this, the bottoms of our boots are never fully dry.