“You can’t! His blood is killing me, so get the fuck out and let me die already!”
His blood is killing me.
We have to fight Hector’s blood.
But how can we fight something so powerful that we know almost nothing about?
“I’ll be right back,” I say. “Don’t let him die!” I run out of the room, almost crashing into people. I tell myself I’m not being crazy, even though I likely am, but I’m not going to pretend the worst isn’t happening, that Caden isn’t dying. If ever there was a time to be completely reckless, this is it.
I reachFrankie’s Repairs and Science Thingsto find Lyla crouching in front of Timothy, who is still on Frankie’s desk. They all turn to look at me.
“What’s wrong?” Lyla asks.
“Caden is dying. I need…” I catch my breath. “I need your help, Timothy. His blood is mixed with Hector’s, and now it is killing him.”
Timothy stands on his eight legs. A piece of plastic is covering the gap in his skull, though it’s clearly a temporary solution. “I’m afraid my blood isn’t meant for humans.”
“Caden isn’t human anymore. Your blood is enhanced—it’s reviving your skin. Maybe it can fight Hector’s blood and get it out of Caden’s system.” It sounds crazy when I say it out loud, but if I don’t have faith, I’m left with nothing.
“You have no idea how a single drop of Timothy’s blood might affect Caden,” Lyla says, watching me with pity. “It might kill him immediately.”
“Good, ’cause right now, he’s dying slowly and in agony.”
Timothy turns to Lyla. “We cannot let our friend suffer. Finn is right; it’s worth the risk. Would you carry me?”
She picks him up, and we hurry out of the shop and back to the clinic. I lead them into Caden’s room, finding him in a worse state than before, though he’s no longer thrashing. He seems delusional, shaking his head from side to side with his eyes staring into space.
Josh, who is standing by his side, looks up at us. “What are you… shit, Timothy. What the hell?”
“I’m fine! Finn suggested we try using my blood to save Caden. My white cells might be strong enough to battle Hector’s infection.”
River shakes his head. “Your blood wasn’t meant for him.”
“Neither was Hector’s.” I take a step forward and tell the doctors, “You need to make an infusion with Timothy’s blood, but only a small dose until we know if it’s working.”
“You’re not supposed to mix—”
“Do it,” Josh says. “We all know he’s dying.”
Still reluctant, they ask Lyla to place Timothy on a cart. I stand close to Caden, taking in his dire state. His wrists and ankles are strapped to the bed, but he’s likely to snap them off if he goes into another seizure. I stroke his damp forehead, touching the little scales decorating his skin. “Kick him out,” I whisper. “Kick his filthy blood straight to hell, you hear me?”
I get nothing but faint moans, but it’s better than his screams earlier.
“Will he be in danger?” River asks the doctors, meaning Timothy.
“Caden’s blood won’t reach back to him, so he should be fine. We’ll need to take it straight from one of his palms.”
“Go ahead,” Timothy says with River and Lyla standing by his side.
One of the doctors prepares an IV drip for Caden, while the other draws blood from Timothy’s palm, then inserts it into the IV bag. I watch as the fluid inside the bag turns red, then slowly slips into Caden’s vein. A minute passes, and then another. We remain silent, watching Caden as he breathes heavily, occasionally mumbling something I don’t understand.
I’m about to ask if we should give him more of Timothy’s blood when his eyes shoot open.
“His heart is beating too fast!” River shouts.
Caden begins to thrash, snapping his bindings right off. Lyla and River hurry to hold him down, but even they can barely manage. His screams are worse than before. Josh and I beg him to calm down, but I don’t think he can hear us. I’ve never seen anyone going through so much pain.
My crazy idea is killing him. It’s not saving him like I hoped, and it’s definitely not granting him a swift death.
