The Darkest Star (Origin 1)

“Ditto,” I murmured, opening my backpack. I pulled out my camera and popped off the lens. I was aware that Heidi and Zoe were watching me, but they didn’t say anything as I started snapping photos of everyone standing around, focusing on how their shadows looked on the cement. I liked the contrast.

It was probably weird that I was doing this, but Heidi and Zoe didn’t say a word. This wasn’t the first time they’d seen me whip out a camera at the most inappropriate time.

Taking pictures was about more than clearing my mind. Sometimes the camera was . . . It was kind of like a shield between me and what was happening. It helped distance myself, so I . . . I didn’t feel too much.

Maybe I should look into photojournalism when I graduated instead of nursing.

As I lowered the camera, I spotted James jogging around the corner, crossing the common area. He stopped by a group, clapping his hand on another guy’s back before he made his way over to us.

“Have you heard anything?” I asked, putting my camera away.

“Yeah.” James dropped his bag onto the cement ground. “It was Colleen.”

“What?” I gasped.

He climbed onto the table and sat next to me. “I was talking to a few guys. One of the teachers was standing nearby, talking to Jenny—the girl who’d found her in the bathroom. From what I could hear, it sounded like Colleen had been . . . you know, gone for a while. I don’t know how Jenny could tell that, but that’s what I heard.”

“Holy crap.” Heidi lowered her phone to her lap. “Oh my God, that—”

“Doesn’t make a lot sense?” Zoe finished for her, the corners of her lips turning down. “I thought the last time she was seen was at Foretoken on Friday night.”

“That’s right.” I glanced at Heidi. She was staring straight, her face pale. “Her purse and shoes were found in the alley. There’s no way she’d been in that bathroom since Friday.”

“I used that bathroom yesterday,” Zoe pointed out. “Someone would’ve noticed. At least, I hope so.”

“She was in the last stall and it was unlocked,” James explained, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Supposedly Jenny went in there and saw that the door was cracked open a little. She didn’t think anyone was in it, so she pushed it open, and there . . . was Colleen. Said she was slumped next to the toilet.”

“God.” Heidi shuddered. “That’s just horrible.”

My stomach twisted as I folded my arms. Part of me had been hoping that she’d run away to see her boyfriend, like Zoe had suggested. Deep down I think I knew that hadn’t been the case, not when her shoes and purse had been left behind in an alley, but I didn’t think this was what had happened.

Zoe slumped against the table. Tight curls fell forward as she bowed her head. “She’s in my communications class. She was just there, you know, on Friday.”

“And you guys saw the posts about Amanda, right?” Heidi folded an arm across her stomach. “I saw this morning that she still hadn’t returned home.”

Zoe nodded slowly. “I saw that.”

Silence fell between us, because seriously, what did any of us have to say? We’d all suffered some sort of loss, whether it was before the invasion or afterward. Both of Zoe’s parents were gone. Heidi’s uncle had been in the army and had died fighting. James had lost an aunt and a cousin. We all knew what grief felt like. Been there, done that, and we had the emotional baggage to prove it. And we all knew what the surprise of death felt like. It was that alarm-like jolt every time you realized someone was no longer there when they had just been there. And we all also knew what fear felt and tasted like. Still, with all our experience, none of us knew what to say.

“I heard something else,” James said quietly.

I was almost too afraid to ask. “What?”

“You heard Jenny screaming about her eyes, right?” He reached up, turning his baseball hat around to the front. “They were . . . I heard they were burned out completely.”

Zoe sat up straight. “Burned out?”

James nodded as he leaned around me. “Nothing but the sockets left.”

“Oh God,” Heidi moaned as my stomach churned more.

“That wasn’t all,” he added, looking around at all of us. “She had burn marks—like, the skin was charred. At least that was how Jenny described it. Like she’d been electrocuted.”

Zoe’s lips parted as icy fingers of dread trailed down my spine. Oh no. My gaze connected with hers, and I knew she was thinking the same thing I was. There were two ways a person could end up looking like they were electrocuted. One way was touching a live wire and not living to regret that really bad life choice. The second was far scarier than accidentally dropping a plugged-in hair dryer into a tub. There was something out there that could kill, and when it did, it often looked like electrocution . . . if there was anything of that person left behind.