I scratch my arms and hands as I follow him out of the dorm. Anything to reduce the burning. Fuck, why has my blood turned to fire? It’s never felt like this before. I continue scratching until I draw blood, needing to alleviate the burning.
At least I’ve stopped throwing up, so I don’t have to battle my stomach as we walk through the disorienting hallway to another dorm full of people of different ages and races, like a sample of civilization has been trapped here. They all stay on their bunks, some curled in on themselves so I can’t see their faces as they tremble under the thin sheets, others glaring at me as Jasper guides me through the bunks.
“Your bed is over here,” he says gently, pointing at a corner of the room as I look around the dorm.
I nod, attempting to speak, but no sound comes out. Why is my body shutting down? The nausea returns as I walk through the bunks. It feels like they’re closing in on me. The little pockets of chatter get louder. Everyone is looking at me, talking about me while I try not to throw up on them.
Jasper gently holds my elbow, guiding me the rest of the way until I collapse on the lower bunk below Sienna, who’s peering over her bed with worry lining her face.
“Are you okay?” she whispers.
I nod as I roll on my side, weakly wrapping the sheets around me without the energy to crawl under them. The thin foam mattress doesn’t offer any protection from the rigid metal grid of the frame it’s resting on. There’s too much pain. I rub my feet together under the scratchy fleece to get the pains to go away, but they intensify.
“It’s okay.” The bed creaks as Jasper sits on the edge, gently rubbing circles on my back. “Sienna, can you get the tub from the bathroom please?”
I whimper when she moves, shaking the bed. Nova lays on the bunk opposite me with her feet pressed to the mesh of thebunk above. Her body looks like the letter L until she raises her hands to make a U.
A sob cracks my chest at the letters so close to spelling Luna.
Jasper continues rubbing my back as he softly whispers, “You don’t have to cry.”
“I lost them again,” I sob. “I lost my babies.”
Somehow he manages to understand me through the pain. “You’ll get them back.”
I shake. Not just my head to tell him it’s not possible, my entire body trembles. I can’t get it to stop or warm up, but he lays beside me, allowing me to cry into his chest when he’s a child.
71
KANE
The hospital looks the part but there’s no other patients, unless the creepy skeleton sitting in the corner of the room counts. The bones aren’t white or that strange yellow I’ve seen before. They’re black. I’ve been left alone after the doctor cut away the infected flesh and snapped more of my bone to round out my limb. The tube leading out of the gauze drains the excess fluid away as I continue staring at the skeleton in this windowless room, trying to work out why it’s painted black.
Thankfully, they’ve allowed me to keep my mask on. I don’t think they want to humanize me. Neither do I, so at least we have something in common. There’s a soft clatter in the hallway then the muttering I’ve had as company for the last three years. “Stupid idiot, making me find you.”
“Crazy pants?” I softly call out.
The door is roughly pushed open, and Sasha stands in her usual outfit of black with a normal balaclava instead of her rotting face. Pride wells in my chest at the sight of her learning to be around people like I’ve been slowly teaching her as I pat the bed. “Missed me?”
“No.” She grimaces despite the clear relief in her emerald eyes. Her steps are slow until she sits beside me on the opposite side to my severed arm, staring at the draining tubes.
Little red veins crawl out from the sides of her eyes, making me sigh. “Why didn’t you go to sleep?”
“You said you were coming back.”
“I’m sorry.” I gently pull her down, avoiding the IV in my arm as I kiss her crown. “Go to sleep. I’m here now.”
Her eyes close as I rest my cheek on the top of her head and rub her back. My other arm has the urge to move like my hand is still attached. I don’t know when my brain will understand that the appendage is no longer there. I hope it’s sooner rather than later.
Metallic clanging vibrates through the building, followed by rushed footsteps.
I tighten my arm around Sasha as the doctor and Decker enter the room. The gun hasn’t left his hand since he brought me here after knocking me unconscious.
“Who is she?” He waves the gun towards the little nutcase tucked into my side. “I thought you’d lost your wife?”
“She’s my sister,” I snap. “Don’t wave your gun at her again. I might have one hand, but I’ll use it to rip your fucking tongue out.”
The doctor doesn’t say anything as she steps forward to check the drainage tube. Her bedside manner is cold as fuck, along with her dead eyes. She must be a surgeon because her precision was immaculate. They also tend to be more arrogant, like Harkin.
