Something of a Kind - By Miranda Wheeler Page 0,71

between Noah and Henry as she approached, meeting him mid-stride to the car.

“Did you still want to go to the clinic?”

“I think it’s a good idea. This thing is killing me, and everyone’s stretched pretty thin here.”

“Okay,” She responded slowly, nibbling her lip as she glanced at the car. “I’ve still got a few weeks to transfer my license to Alaska, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

“It’s an emergency anyway, hardly questionable.” He smiled through a wince, brushing her cheek with a free hand.

I can’t take this out on her. This is all my fault.

She blinked, shaking her head. “You’re right – let’s get that looked at.”

CHAPTER 19 | ALYSON

“Yes, I’m sure I’m fine,” Noah murmured, eyes closed. “We’re almost there anyway.”

Every time he spoke, Noah sounded as dazed as he did halfdead. It wasn’t alarming until she glanced his way. Face twisted in agony, a hand on his shoulder, he slumped against the window.

I forced him to go up there… he got hurt protecting me.

Worried and guilty, she continued, “Are you sure you’re sure?”

He sighed. “Aly, I was up all night. I’m honestly just tired.”

He hasn’t yawned once, and he was running through the woods like a jaguar.

“I believe you,” she lied, her voice low. “I know what happened to Sarah has got to be really overwhelming… It might help if you… Just… Just keep talking.”

“What do you want me to say?” he mumbled, grimacing with another wave of pain.

Why didn’t he look like this when we were three yards from a paramedic?

“Tell me one of your stories,” Aly pleaded, eager for a reassurance that he was conscious. “Tell me of the sun thieves.” “There once was a wise man,” Noah said, “Who told his village about the worth of all people.”

~

With the clinic’s waiting -room-coffee in hand, Aly found comfort in the heated Styrofoam. The little stand on wheels across from her was the only warmth in the room.

Between waiting for Noah and being acutely aware of Greg’s unprovoked argument with the receptionist, her stress went from tangible to all-encompassing in a few minutes.

In her peripheral, she wasn’t sure if her father noticed her yet. Aly watched him accept a clipboard to sign something before handing it back. After a moment, Greg shoved through the tinted glass doors, eyes locking on Aly. As he approached, she lounged back in her chair, resting her head against the chilled wall.

“So,” she offered, head lolling to make eye contact. “Did you burn Maggie’s house down or something?”

He mumbled something to himself, dropping in the seat at her side. Audible, he added, “Believe it or not, Alyson, I’ve only ever had eyes for your mother. I’ve loved Vanessa since we were children.”

“Try telling the good doctor that.” She smirked, before adding, “Well, I already did. Didn’t go over so well.”

“Alyson,” he groaned, as though her name was an inconvenient diagnosis, “are you always this difficult about everything?”

Is this the elusive face of an embarrassed Greg Glass?

She shrugged, staring at the ceiling. “Soon enough, you won’t have to worry about it.”

His brow knitted, alarmed. “How do you expect me to take that?”

“My eighteenth birthday,” she notified. “Almost here, almost gone.”

He shifted, scratching his neck. Clearing his throat, he mumbled, “That’s not necessary, Alyson-”

“It is,” she interrupted. “How long have you known about the wood beast?”

He paused, evaluating how seriously she took the question. Seeming pleased, he straightened, explaining, “When I was working at the university in Albany. I was driving a scenic route, headed back to Kingsley, through the Adirondack Park. He crossed the road, right in front of my highbeams… I was already studying biology at that point, very invested in a myriad of subspecialties. I was alarmed, intrigued, fascinated… it wasn’t anything like I’d seen before, or have seen since.”

Rage filled her chest, slamming against the hurt already welling. “If that thing is back home, why come here? To the most random...” She stopped, unwilling to finish her sentence, unsure of what satisfaction it would offer. What could she say?

Do you have any idea how small and remote Ashland, Alaska is? Did you personally pick the spot furthest away from us? Did you really hate us that much?

"We all run, Aly."

“Clearly, it was not far enough,” Aly replied, despising the weakness in her voice.

Fidgeting, he brushed off her comment. “Alyson, no matter how difficult this seems… it’s irrelevant to the issue at hand. I’d appreciate if you could stay focused for one minute.” His voice was on edge, filled