I Thought We Had Tomorrow — Episode 3

She let out a nasty little laugh. She's spoiled. She's just a clout-chasing bitch who's desperate to go viral. She doesn't deserve any sympathy.

Luke looked down at Amber. his eyes softening instantly. Don't worry, I got this. He turned back, his gaze icely as he stared at the closed metal door.

He grabbed a heavy-duty U-lock from the gear rack and picked up a rusty piece of rebar from the ground. He jammed the rebar through the door handles, locking it in place. Then he looped the U-lock through the latch and the iron ring.

Click. He'd sealed the door shut. I hovered in the air, numbly watching him do it. The temperature inside that box was pushing way past a 1020 now. My body was slumped in the corner behind the door,

in this horrific, twisted position. Between the dehydration and the blood loss, my skin had turned this deathly marble white color. My faggings were soaked through with sweat and blood, clinging to me like a cold Thick, dark blood was even massive sickening mess on the scorching metal

The heavy smell of iron was fermenting in that sweltering, airtight space. It was nauseating. I reached out with my translucent hand, trying to grab Luke's wrist. I wanted to scream,

Luke, stop, I'm already dead, you're locking up a corpse. But my fingers just went straight through his arm. I couldn't feel a thing. Luke finished locking up, brushed the dust off his hands with a look of disgust,

and pulled his phone out of his tactical pants. He opened iMessage to our chat. The last message was the photo of my lab results I'd sent him last night. Luke stared at the feeder for a second.

A cold, annoyed smirk touched his lips. He long-pressed the image and hit delete without hesitating.