The Long Fall of Night: The Long Fall of Night Book 1 Read Free

and getting his masters in Biotechnology at the same time, they didn’t know what label to slap on him. He liked it that way.
    But Elliot apparently saw right through the armor.
    “Look,” he sighed wearily, stopping in the lobby of Rogers Hall, the sun streaming in the windows at his back, forcing Elliot to squint to look at him. “I stopped them because I have a problem with homophobia. It’s not because I’m some kind of hero, or—” He stopped the words “your boyfriend” from exiting his mouth. There was no need to be cruel, even if he’d clearly stated his intentions from the beginning. Fuck buddies who helped each other study for tests. That was it. “I just want to go to class, get my degrees, and thumb my nose at everyone who said I’d amount to nothing. Frankly, I don’t need psychoanalyzing either. We study together, and sometimes do other stuff, hang out, whatever. Don’t read anything into it, okay?”
    Elliot deflated but threw out a bright smile so quickly, it couldn’t be sincere, making Ash wish he’d been nicer.
    “Sure. I mean, that’s the arrangement.” They stood awkwardly for a moment, and Ash turned and pushed through the stairwell door. “Um, maybe we could hang out after class tonight?” Elliot asked hopefully, following close on his heels.
    “Yeah, okay,” he agreed before considering if he should. He had other things on his mind as he trudged up the three flights of stairs, hunched beneath the weight of his backpack. It was heavier than usual with the extra supplies he’d packed. His cellphone, three backup batteries and one of those portable chargers that held four charges, a handheld GPS, a flashlight, and all his cash in the world—$1,200—were individually wrapped in foil, stuffed in plastic zipper bags, then arranged inside a cardboard-lined metal cookie tin with aluminum tape tightly wound around the lid to make sure there were no gaps in contact. Uncle Marvin had sent an encrypted email with a few more details of his suspicions, including the type of problem he expected and coordinates he wanted Ash and Charlotte to stick to on their trek across the country. Ash had spent the day packing what little he could and making sure the cookie tin was secure. As soon as class was over, he intended to write down the coordinates he hadn’t had a chance to transfer, so if his phone became nothing more than a glorified flashlight, it wouldn’t matter. His bag also contained a change of clothes in place of his schoolbooks, a small first-aid kit, and a few bottles of water. The only text he carried was for his immediate class.
    It would have to do until he could get away and supply up.
    As they reached the top of the stairwell, Elliot zigzagged behind him. Ash tolerated the chatter as they emerged on the floor where their classroom was located, several students already at their stations, perched on tall stools. Each table bore two half-filled flasks with no labels. The day’s experiment was written on the whiteboard with the page number of their text that contained the instructions.
    Ash blocked Elliot out while pulling materials from the supply cabinet, returning to their station with laden arms. He was glad to have work distract his partner so he’d stop with the babbling. While it used to irritate Ash to no end, the more he’d gotten to know the guy, the more he got used to it, but tonight he was on edge. Elliot studied the text, murmuring as he read to himself, a quirk that also used to annoy Ash. These days, he found it sort of endearing.
    “Identify unknown aldehyde and unknown ketone,” Elliot read, gesturing to the unlabeled flasks, the nervous, fumblingly awkward guy from the street all but gone. This was the Elliot Ash preferred—serious, smart, and focused. He had to be, to keep up with upperclassmen and their workload.
    Elliot pulled out his notebook and hooked his stool toward him with a foot, prepared to take notes while Ash performed the experiment. Ash