บท 55: Chapter 55: Brink

The night wore on, Isaac still but for the ragged pulls from his chest. And Alessa waited in silence, her tears run dry, waited for the bleeding that she knew would mark the end.

She was numb now.

The occasional shuffle outside the tent - a footstep, a heavy puff of breath, the crunch of a stray piece of garbage - would draw her attention. It may have been the wind; more likely it was the creatures. But even the threat of being torn limb from limb couldn't seem to break through the impenetrable shell she'd withdrawn into. There was only one place she could be now, one thing she could do. And she was there, in this tent, doing it - waiting for Isaac, her Isaac, to die.

She passed the long hours considering her prospects with anesthetized objectivity, weighing the choices she could make as if they were someone else's, as if she were watching this scene unfold on one of Paragon's dramas.