“What’s happening? Where is André!?” I shouted, completely beside myself. I didn’t hear her at all, and leaning against the hood of the vehicle I tried to move toward those screams and howls. “What’s going on over there, Kaylee? Where is Luke?”
“You’re bleeding! Please, you could have a concussion or something broken!”
“IT DOESN’T HURT!” I screamed back, and I began to hear better; the force I used to shout seemed to pop my ears completely, although the ringing remained.
André could be badly injured. Oh Alejandro. Or Rex, or any of them—anyone!
Sasha’s muffled sobs and cries urged me to go back for the girl, but terror crawled under my skin like sharp hooks and painfully pulled me toward the lamentations. My vision blurred as grief took hold of me. All I could do was wonder: How could
