Page 87 of White Noise

9

SAGA

BROADCAST

Iwake up facedown and completely naked, laying across my bed with one arm hanging over the side and absolutely no memory of deciding to sleep there.

For a few seconds, I don’t move, mostly because everything hurts in a way that feels deeply unfair considering the thing currently ruining my life isn’t technically human and apparently thinks my nervous system is a fun little side project.

My muscles ache, my head feels heavy, and the second I shift my hips, soreness between my thighs makes me wince into the mattress.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Apparently having supernatural current ripped through every nerve in my body does not come with the convenient side effect of waking up refreshed.

You’d think it would.

All that electrical bullshit, all those lights flickering and monitors screaming while Silas practically rewired me from the inside out, and not one spark could be bothered to make me feel less like I got hit by a truck.

Rude.

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling while daylight pushes around the edges of the blackout curtains.

The condo is quiet, which means Silas must have eventually crawled back into whatever fucked-up hole in the signal he comes from while I was unconscious, or at least that is what I tell myself before glancing toward the corner of the room anyway.

No static, no black eyes, no six-foot-something nightmare standing there looking pleased with himself because he managed to wreck me and then apparently leave me to deal with the cleanup.

Typical.

I sit up carefully and immediately regret it when another dull ache pulls between my thighs. “Yeah, okay. Message received.”

My body, unfortunately, has developed opinions about Silas.

Strong and very embarrassing ones. Complete fucking traitorous ones.

But that is a problem for later.

The streaming setup is completely fucked.

The desk has collapsed onto one side, half the frame twisted down against the floor with cables tangled underneath it. My chair is knocked over several feet away like it got kicked aside, and one of the cameras is hanging crooked from its mount by the cord.

Both monitors are on the floor. One is facedown, while the other landed screen-up with a crack running across the glass.

I just stare at it.

For a few seconds, I honestly don’t even know where to start.

Apparently Silas can scramble my nervous system, destroy several thousand dollars’ worth of equipment, and then disappear before cleanup.

Multitalented asshole.

Daylight somehow makes the whole thing worse. Last night everything was static, noise, adrenaline, and bad decisions.

Now it just looks like somebody tore apart the room where I work and left me with the bill.

I shove the blanket off and sit up slowly, immediately regretting the movement when every sore muscle reminds me exactly why the setup looks like this.

“Fantastic.”