Read Haven (The Last Humans Book 3) for Free Online Page B

can’t be said for Liam. His run quickly diminishes to a jog, then a walk. By the time we reach the forest’s edge, he’s barely trudging along.
    When we exit the forest, I’m not surprised to find the shimmering Barrier missing. Given that the Barrier is an Augmented Reality artifact and the Screens, trees, and other AU-generated things are gone, it stands to reason—if by reason, one means complete chaos—that the Barrier would also be gone. Plus, since Liam easily passed the threshold where fear should’ve gripped him, I half-expected something to be wrong with the Barrier.
    Liam drags himself to the middle of the clearing. When he sees the forest on the Adult side, he gives me a despairing look.
    “Another forest,” I say. “Hey, that means more oxygen, right?”
    Liam doesn’t say anything. His whole body slumps, and he starts walking with the same enthusiasm as a condemned man going to the gallows.
    “Lean on me,” I say and walk up to Liam.
    Liam doesn’t argue and meekly puts his right arm over my shoulders. His added weight slows me down, but I’m grateful for his body heat. I just wish we could cover the ground faster.
    When we reach the Adult section of the forest, I pick up a stick for each of us to lean on. Our improvised canes help for a bit, but when we reach the edge of a small clearing, Liam drops the stick and leans on a gigantic pine, gasping desperately.
    I let go of him and step back, not knowing what to do. Then it comes to me.
    “I’ll walk ahead and find a Disk,” I say, half to myself and half to Liam. “The Adults have these flying devices. You can sit on one and—”
    “Please,” Liam wheezes. His face has a bluish-purple tint under the red light of the dome. “Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone.”
    “Of course,” I say instantly. Those words must’ve cost my friend a lot of oxygen.
    He nods and inhales deeply, then again and again. With every breath, his eyes get wider, and his face turns a darker shade of purple.
    My pulse skyrockets as I watch Liam grab at his throat the way he did inside the Dorm. No, please no. Frantically, I reach for him, but it’s too late.
    My friend slides down the enormous tree trunk, falling to his knees.
    His eyes and the veins on his forehead are bulging as he continues to clutch at his throat. He wheezes painfully several times, and then his breathing stops.
    “Liam!” I grab his arm just as he collapses to the ground.

7
    M y mind scrambles for a plan as I kneel next to my fallen friend and begin CPR.
    “Phoe,” I whisper in desperation, my chilled muscles jumping under my skin as I compress Liam’s chest. “Phoe, please.”
    She doesn’t respond.
    My chapped lips tremble as I breathe air into his lungs, and I have the incongruous thought that this is how the ancients must’ve felt when their prayers went unanswered. I’m shivering all over, my hands, feet, and the pit of my stomach frozen solid as I continue the breathing and the chest compressions.
    Nothing.
    He’s not responding.
    Shaking, I check his pulse.
    Nothing. The giant tree is more likely to have a heartbeat.
    Balling my hands into fists, I compress his chest once, twice, a third time. I’m almost hitting him, but nothing changes. With every passing second, Liam feels infinitely colder to the touch.
    No. This isn’t happening.
    “Is this a dream? An IRES game?” My shout resembles a wolf’s howl. “Please get me out of here. Please, Phoe. I’ll do anything.”
    The red sky shines dispassionately in reply.
    Liam is still unmoving. Still cold.
    I’ve never felt this powerless, this overwhelmed.
    Pushing my fear aside, I continue performing CPR. At one point, I feel Liam’s ribs crack. The cold air burns my lungs, my arms are stiff and sore, and my legs are cramping, but I don’t stop. Despite the intensifying cold, I feel like I’m burning. My heart is beating like an erratic drum, and a wave of nausea hits me, but I swallow the bile in my throat and keep