Falling Read Online Free

charge.
    Grayson pulls me back. “Celes, you’ll kill us.”
    I rip free of his grip. “I don’t care. We have to go back, Grayson.”
    “We can’t go back,” he insists. “The Others are all back there. It’s too dangerous.”
    “Then I’ll kill them. Turn this thing around, Grayson. We have to help Jack.”
    If Grayson looks hurt by that, I’m not in a position to care right then. Besides, he manages to stay largely calm, even though I can’t. “Jack doesn’t want us to go back, Celes. He’s the one who sent us away.”
    “And he said he would be fine,” I counter. “He isn’t fine. He’s going to get killed, or don’t you care about that?”
    “He cares about whether you get killed,” Grayson shoots back. “You’re the important one here. You have to be kept safe, whatever the cost. Don’t make Jack’s-”
    “Don’t say it! Don’t say ‘sacrifice’. He isn’t dead. I won’t let him be dead. I’ll kill them all before I let them do that.”
    “And what about what they’ll do to you?” Grayson asks. “They have guns, Celes. They can shoot you before you even get close to them. This is probably the one thing Jack and I agree on. You have to stay out of danger, even if it means other people get hurt. Even if it means Jack gets hurt.”
    I shake my head. I won’t accept that. I won’t just fly away and leave Jack to his fate. We’ll go back, and we’ll collect him, and everything will be all right. Even as I think it, I know I’m not thinking straight, but I can’t help it. I make another lunge for the pilot, and again, the helicopter jerks.
    “You need to do something about her, or we’ll all die,” he says to Grayson, as Grayson pulls me back.
    “Like what?”
    “There’s a kit under the seat.”
    I don’t know what he means until Grayson scrambles under the seat, coming out with a wicked looking hypodermic needle, filled with a substance I don’t know enough about chemistry to identify.
    “Please, Celes,” he says, “don’t make me use this.”
    Right then, I don’t care. All I can think about is turning the helicopter around. I make a final grab for the pilot, and I feel something sharp press into my arm. I just have time to look around at Grayson accusingly before I slide into blissful oblivion.
     
    Memories come to me drip by drip, inching their way into my consciousness and playing out as dreams as whatever substance Grayson has used to sedate me runs its course. The memories aren’t like the ones I saw at the Underground. They aren’t of me or those around me exhibiting special powers, or fighting the Others, or anything like that. Instead, they’re normal things, simple things. Though that only makes them more painful.
    Jack and I are at a party. I don’t know which one. There were so many in my weeks as Celeste Channing. We’re dancing, and my head is on his shoulder as the music slows. There are people watching us, and I tell myself I’m doing it for their benefit, but now that I can look back on it, I know that I’m not. I’m doing it because I want to. Because I want to be that close to Jack, to take in the scent of him and feel the hardness of his muscles pressed against me.
    Now Jack and I are driving. Just driving, for mile after mile. It’s just after he has taken me from his apartment, heading for the Underground. He isn’t saying much, and I spend a lot of my time sleeping, but now, I can see the concerned glances across at me, the protective looks. I can remember how comfortable it was, taking that long road trip with a man who was, at that point, a stranger to me.
    We’re in the truck stop, where Jack arranged the test for me. I’m pointing a gun at an irate trucker, one who has been hurting Jack. He takes a step forward, and I pull the trigger without event thinking about it. I remember how proud Jack was afterwards. How confident that he could protect me if I followed his instructions.
    Not all the memories are of Jack. Grayson’s