“We’ll find more.” Aiden says from behind me.

“No we won’t,” Ryder says. “Cedrix already checked over there and the hospital was trashed—everything’s gone or ruined.”

“Well, find more,” Aiden promises me, stroking my back gently, but then quickly pulls back. “Even if we have to make it ourselves.”

But he’s making an empty promise. He knows it. I know it. Everyone knows it. Because none of us are doctors.

“Where are we even going to go?” Ryder whines, picking up a broken bottle and chucking it across the room, sending glass through the air like raindrops.

“Do you remember that little cave we stayed in when we were first dump—before Dominic found us?” He picks up a bag and shakes it out, dust flying. “We’ll go there, at least until we can figure something else out.”

She doesn’t say anything, balling up the sweater and setting it in her bag.

“Hey.” He hugs her. “We’ll get through this.”

She forces a smile.

Aiden turns around toward me. “You ready to go?”

I nod, slipping the broken vial into my pocket, not wanting to admit that the memories may never resurface—that I will never find what Monarch locked away inside my head.

Aiden cups his hands around his mouth. “Gregory, Cedrix, you ready to go?”

From above us, they give him a thumbs up and we meet in the middle of the tunnel. Then we head out, across the desert, leaving it all behind.

Chapter 38

We make it to the little cave before nightfall. Everyone is quiet most of the walk, not wanting to speak about what happened, but not wanting to forget it either. The cave Aiden spoke of is small and secure on the side of a steep rocky cliff. After sending me in first to make sure it’s not already preoccupied with a family of vampires, we go inside and get situated for darkness to arrive.

Aiden hasn’t spoken more than two words to me since we left the hillside behind, and I begin to wonder if something’s bothering him.  But what could it be? Does he blame me for what happened? After a while, I decide to stop dwelling and just ask him.

I wait until he wanders over to a corner alone to set up a sleeping area for himself.

I pick up a bottle of water that’s rolled next to him, kicking at the dirt with my boots. “Are you mad at me?”

He unrolls a blanket and spreads it out on the floor. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“You’ve seemed distant,” I say and take the other side of the blanket, helping him position it evenly across the dirt. “Since we made it back to the hillside.”