Keller
Bennett got out of bed on the third day.
When he knocked on my door, and I opened it, I was half-expecting to see Teresa or some clumsy Omega. But it was him.
It was Bennett, carrying a small backpack.
He pushed the door open and breezed past me, staggering a little into the room.
“You look like you need more sleep,” I muttered.
“You look like you've forgotten we have a lot of things at stake,” Bennett shot back. “Dress up, we need to get to Getta.”
“When you look like hell?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “No. Absolutely not.”
Bennett frowned. “I'm not the one at a loss here. Everybody is. Everything is.”
“I know, but…”
“That's what I thought.”
My problem wasn't the journey to Getta. My problem was Bennett collapsing mid-journey.
The trip to Getta took two days. Could he
