“I’m a Juliet?” The look on her face makes my heart hurt. The thoughts in her head must be fuzzy, even without the drugs, just trying to comprehend what this means, what her future holds, whether or not we would even want her to survive.
“You aretheJuliet,” the medic says to Reese before turning around and addressing the rest of us. “We should do this now. Prolonging this won’t give us the answers we need.”
“Lead the way,” I tell him.
“We’re going to keep an eye on the happenings in Coldhall,” one of the other Marines says. “We’ll catch up with you in a bit.”
I scoop Reese up in my arms, holding her tightly as we follow the medic and Locke down the hall and into what looks like a lab. As we close ourselves into this large space, I lower Reese down, leaving her standing, frozen, in the center of the room. She peers in every direction, her eyes open wide, allowing all of us to understand the fear she must be feeling right now.
Locke pushes a stool over for Reese to sit down on and I guide her into it. She doesn’t even flinch when the chair makes a loud clunking noise against the floor. I’m pretty sure she’s still not fully coherent. Locke pulls another stool over for himself as the medic rushes over to a station in the back corner and washes his hands. He returns momentarily with a caddy of supplies and places a paper mat down before covering it with several test tubes and a needle.
“We have to take some blood, okay?” he asks Reese.
“Okay,” she says quietly, keeping her focus locked only on me now.
“They’re going to try and help you,” I reassure her.
The medic is quick with taking the blood he needs and hands it over to Locke. “I had a chem background before joining the Marines,” Locke says. “That’s what dictated the job I had while I was in. You’re in good hands.” He attempts to reassure her, but I need the reassurance as much as Reese does. He has the vials of blood lined up as he sets up his workspace. Within a few minutes, he has his eye pressed against a microscope.
It’s another twenty minutes or so before Locke backs up and peels the medical gloves off his hands. He doesn’t say a word as he walks over to the trashcan, then goes to the sink to wash his hands. We’re all staring at him, waiting for him to say something...anything...but there’s only silence, which is killing me, and I’m sure Reese feels the same.
“We have two choices,” he finally says, pulling the stool over next to the medic. “The toxin is acting similar to an infection, but it’s not attacking her cells like a normal infection would, which means the toxin is coexisting with her, not killing her, but...” he breathes. Of course, there has to be a fucking “but”! “The toxicity percentage is multiplying, but at a rate so slow that in Reese’s particular case, it could take another fifty years for the toxin to take up enough space in her bloodstream to cause her harm. At that point, her cells would have no choice but to become irreparably damaged, thus causing, well—self-destruction, death.”
I already feel relieved. Fifty years with the state this country is currently in is a blessing. I would be thankful for fifty more years. The question of what condition the toxin would leave her in during those years is in the back of my mind, but first things first. I need to know all our options. “What is the second option?” I ask.
“A blood transfusion which may or may not remove some of the toxin, but likely not all of it, plus I’m not sure we could collect the proper equipment to do it.” So, that’s not an option at all.
“What will the side effects be?” Reese pipes in. “I need to know everything. I need to know what to expect. Will I become like one ofthosepeople eventually?”
“I wouldn’t worry about that. The amount of toxicity your blood contains is about a third of what a typical Juliet has. So, I think it might be safe to assume you will continue with the side-effects you have already experienced. As we monitored you during your time in Chipley, we already know you experienced hallucinations as well as confusing nightmares for reality, and your aversion to darkness is also a typical side-effect.” The medic looks down at his interlocked hands for a brief moment and back up at Reese again. “The worst of it, though, is a desire for cannibalistic behavior, which youdidshow during your time here in the bunker. While we can attribute that behavior to the laced food from Chipley, we aren’t sure how much of that chemical was still in your system during your episode, so the question of this particular side-effect is still up for debate until we have more research." The medic leans forward and places a hand on her knee. “But we’re here to help you.”
Locke pulls me to the side as I’m mid-thought about which episode of hers they are referring to. Did I miss something? “Look,” he says softly, quiet enough that Reese can’t hear us. “We can help. She may have moments where she might suffer from side-effects, but this is truly our only option right now. I know it’s a lot to ask you to look after her, but—”
“It’s not a lot to ask. Of course I will look after her,” I tell him. It was never a question. My only concern is that she doesn’t move through life suffering in any way. I can’t stand by and watch that without trying to do something.
“I’ll live with it,” Reese says, loud enough for Locke and I to hear.
“You’ll be fine,” Locke says.
I walk back over to Reese, grabbing a nearby stool to bring myself closer to her. Wrapping my arms around her, I bring her in against my chest. “You’ll be okay. We will be okay. You aren’t alone in this. I’ll be right here with you,” I tell her, running my fingers through a strand of her hair.
Just as an inkling of a small smile appears over her lips, the door to the lab flies open. One of the Marines is standing in the doorway with an unsettled look on his face, but he’s quick to explain his disposition. “The chaos in Coldhall has simmered, but I’m afraid it isn’t pretty.”
“What do you mean?” the medic asks.
“The Juliets are stronger than what we thought. The prisoners of Chipley are all dead,” the Marine says.
My guilt immediately returns like a slap in the face as I think about Cora, Kelter, and the other Chipley residents who trusted me, only to be sent to their deaths.
“How come I’m not like them?” Reese asks, bringing my attention back to her. “Am I going to become like them? What if that happens?”
“Like I said,” Locke chimes in. “The toxin more or less doubled when it interacted with the water, so they have at least twice as much in their bloodstream as you do, so no, I don’t think you will experience the degree of side-effects most of the Juliets are living with.”
“Now what?” I ask.
“We learn to live with the Juliets or remain here in this bunker until they die,” Locke says.
“What about Crownwell? Where is he?” I ask. Because if I’m dying in this fucking bunker, he’s going down with me.
