by Coralee June
"Babe?" a voice croaked. I turned my attention to the healing pod. Cyler was sitting on the floor with his back resting against it. His long legs were thrust out in front of him, and he was cradling his now healed arm while rocking. One of the downfalls of using a healing pod was that it left residual pain for a couple of hours afterward. He looked good though, despite the bloodstains covering his shirt.
I swayed as I walked, knowing that if I didn't eat and drink water soon, I would be in no better position to help than Maverick. Slinking down to my knees, I wrapped my arms around Cyler and squeezed him tight as the other guys started helping Kemper with the last bit of cleaning. "I was so worried about you," I said in a soft tone while resting my head on his shoulder. Cyler grunted while propping his arm up on my shoulder. We held each other there for a moment, and all the unspoken tension just lingered between us.
After a while of just sitting together, I twisted to look into his deep, brown eyes. "How is he?" I asked, not sure that I wanted to hear the answer.
Cyler swallowed before answering. "I'm not sure. When I woke up, he was asleep. Kemper filled me in, though."
Every case of X was different. Some lost their mind quicker than others. Some lost their ability to stay awake. Some got boils faster than others, and some died almost instantly. It scared me, not knowing what kind Maverick would have. We still had twenty hours before Payne would wake up and the time capsule serum would be out of his system.
Cyler stared at the glass door of the quarantine room with trepidation. “I’m going to try to be strong for you, Babe. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared shitless right now.” He trembled before squeezing my shoulder once more.
“You don’t have to be strong for everyone all the time, Cyler Black,” I whispered.
“Neither do you,” he replied. I closed my mouth and stared at the quarantine door with him, watching the steady rise and fall of Maverick’s chest as he slept. After a while, I turned to face Kemper who was working on a small, handheld machine he found in a locked cabinet.
"Did Maverick write down the instructions?" I asked.
Kemper gently set down the machine before lacing his fingers together and staring at me. "He did. I'm trying to make sure all the machines we need are working. I might have to run out tomorrow to find some more materials. For the most part, we have everything we need. I just need a couple more things.”
Jacob’s mindspeak immediately broke through the tense conversation. "Make me a list, and I’ll go out tonight."
Patrick interrupted as well. "I'll go with him." We were all eager to feel like we had something to do. The waiting game was getting to us.
I'd be lying if I said it didn't terrify me for all of us to split up, but I knew we had to work in tandem to get everything we needed. “Maverick assured me that it’s a fairly simple process,” Kemper choked out. “It’s a good thing he’s had time to research while we were searching for Payne. I don’t understand all of it, but the machines do most of the work. Once we have his blood sample, the machine will know what to look for and will extract it.”
I was thankful that we had the Galla clinic and that Maverick had the foresight to research beforehand. I swayed once again and rested my forehead on Cyler’s shoulder. "When was the last time you ate anything?" he asked.
"I don't know. I feel weak, but it's the least of our worries right now."
Kemper must've heard our conversation, because he stopped working to rifle through his backpack. Within moments he was stalking towards me and handing me a canteen of the Deadlands water and a protein bar. The liquid burned while going down; we had sourced it from a river deeper in the Deadlands than usual. I could taste the tangy acid on my tongue, but I still drink all of it.
"Eat. You won't be able to help if you pass out." Cyler’s words were gruff, and I sensed that he was on edge. All of my men cared so deeply for one another, and not knowing if Maverick was going to survive was getting to us.
I slowly ate the protein bar while threading my fingers through Cyler’s hand. Kemper had a list made up and, within minutes, had sent Jacob and Patrick on their way.
"Maverick’s awake," Kemper said after a while. I stood up after squeezing Cyler’s hand and went to the quarantine door.
"Maverick, let me in," I said before banging on the glass. I didn't worry about catching the infection, I was immune after all. And I'd be damned if I let him go through this alone. I stared at the look of indecision on his face and found myself thinking how odd it was that we’d come full circle. I couldn't help but remember being in the Dormas clinic with him when we first met, easing that Walker woman to her death with grace and compassion. Maverick cared so deeply for humanity, but if this was his last night alive, I was going to make sure that he was given the same courtesy.
Maverick’s movements were slow as he stood. I could see the way his muscles were weak as he pulled himself up and staggered towards the control panel. He gave me one look, and I saw the indecisiveness in his face. I could tell that he didn't want me to see him this way, but his love for me overruled that fleeting insecurity in the end. He loved me too much to not spend whatever time he could with me.
Once the door opened, I quickly went inside and allowed him to shut it. There was a boil on his arm that had started to bleed, but I didn't care. I ran to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, making him cough at the force of it.
"How do you feel?" I asked. I guided him to a chair in the corner and helped him sit down. I was about to go back to the door and asked Kemper for more water, but he wrapped his fingers around my wrist before pulling me to his lap. He cradled me, pressing his feverish skin against my neck as he moaned.
"You're really here, right?" he asked. I could hear the cracks in his voice as he spoke, and it broke my heart.
"I'm really here, Maverick. Tell me what I can do."
It was killing me, seeing this disease claim him like this. I wished that I could just wake Payne up and get the ball rolling on this cure. There was so much that hung in the air. What if his blood didn't work? What if the instructions weren't clear? What if we didn't get him the cure in time?
"Just stay right here with me," he said. "Don't leave me. Tell me a story."
He rocked a little back-and-forth, and I felt his blistered lips touch my skin. We were sweaty, exhausted, and he was covered in blisters that were starting to bleed, but I let his sickness seep into my clothes. I didn't care. Love didn't crave perfection. It desired the connection.
"You want to hear a story?" I asked. It was an odd request, and I found myself filtering through my memories as a child. Nothing seemed to measure up. It was almost like my life began when I moved to Dormas. Every cherished thought, every meaningful interaction happened after I met my men.
“You’ve been a part of all my best stories, Maverick. Sometimes I wonder if my life began when I moved to Dormas.”
Maverick gave me a soft smile. “All my favorite stories began when you moved to Dormas, too,” he whispered. “I wish I had one of your chocolate cakes right now,” he added while licking his lips.
“Once we’re out of this hell hole, I’ll make you all the chocolate cake you can eat. I’ve been craving chocolate,” I replied wistfully. “That’s one pleasant memory. Josiah used to sneak me little chocolates when I was a girl. I developed quite the sweet tooth.”
Maverick moved my legs a little bit so that he could reach into his pocket. I heard the crinkling of a wrapper, and he pulled out a tiny peppermint. "I don't have chocolate."
He placed the peppermint in my palm, and I laughed. That was the difference between my men and Josiah. My men wanted to give me what little they had. The empire was ending, but they were worried about still finding little luxuries to sneak into my palm. Hell, Maverick was dying, and he was still finding little ways to treat me. "I want to give you a lifetime of chocolates, Ash," he said. My heart was breaking. "Can you tell Cyler to go to the door? I want to tell him something," Maverick then said. His
words had started to slur, and I wondered how long he would be coherent. It seemed like the disease was taking his mind faster than the rest of his body. The boils on his skin were still at bay, but the fever was making him delirious. I quickly got up and pressed the button for the speaker, beckoning Cyler closer.
Cyler went to the glass and slid down it, resting his back against the door while looking over his shoulder. "You okay brother?" he asked softly. His voice was full of emotion, and I saw unshed tears in his black eyes.
"I don't know," Maverick replied. I adjusted the settings on the intercom to pick up his soft voice.
"This is such a shitty deal," Cyler whispered. He wasn't wrong. Nothing about this was fair. Why was the most compassionate man who dedicated his life to saving others suffering such a gruesome fate? I hated thinking that he was already dead, but the odds were stacked against us. I walked back over to Maverick, and he pulled me to his chest. It was a weak movement, but I gingerly sunk into his comforting embrace. Maverick let out a choking cough and covered his mouth. I noticed when he pulled his hand away that there was blood staining his palm. I quickly grabbed a nearby napkin for him to wipe it.
"When you see Jules, will you tell her that I'm proud of her?" At his seemingly harmless request, it felt like someone had just taken a knife and drove it through my chest. He was preparing for his death.
Kemper stopped working in the distance, and I saw him move to sit next to Cyler. Kemper propped his arm on Cyler’s shoulder. "Don't talk like that, Maverick. We're gonna get the cure done. You're gonna be okay," Cy said, his voice nearly a whisper.
Maverick chuckled. "I thought I was supposed to be the optimistic one in our group," he said. "You're the realist."
"And you're too good for this stupid shit," Cyler grumbled.
"When you see Ash, can you tell her I loved her?"
His voice seemed far away. I pressed a hand to his forehead as he closed his eyes. He was burning so hot it was uncomfortable to touch his skin. "I'm right here, Maverick," I soothed. Maverick grabbed hold of me tighter, as if making sure I really was.
"I love you so much. I don't have adequate words to express just how much you mean to me. I'm not sure if it's the disease talking, or if I really just can't put into words how much I deeply love you." It felt like he was talking in confused circles. The disease was working fast.
I cupped both his cheeks just as I heard Cyler let out a sob. It wasn't fair. This family had already lost both their parents and had given their lives to their people.
Maverick's head started to roll like it was too hard for his neck to hold it up. I quickly got off of his lap and helped him to a nearby pallet I found in the corner of the room. Carefully tucking him into the scratchy blankets, I kissed him on the cheek before sliding under the blanket next to him. I was so thankful that I had immunity to X. I didn't know how I would've survived if I wasn't able to comfort him like this. I wrapped my arms around his waist, and he flinched in pain, drawing my attention to his abdomen. After a quick inspection, I noticed that more of the sores were starting to form there. "Maverick you have to hang on." I glanced at the clock. Fourteen hours. He just had to survive a little more than fourteen hours.
I wasn't exactly sure when we fell asleep. His raspy breath was alarming, but my body was too exhausted. I closed my eyes while clutching his hot body and prayed that he was strong enough to make it through the night.
Chapter Nineteen
“Ash, wake up,” a voice said through the intercom. My entire body felt like it was on fire. It felt like my skin was burning as beads of sweat traveled down my spine.
When I opened my eyes, I gasped at Maverick. X boils had spread all over his body, and I scooted away when I realized that some were starting to burst. “Ash, are you okay?” I looked at the glass partition. Cyler was standing there with Jacob, Kemper, and Patrick.
“Yeah,” I replied in a sleepy voice before stretching. I was so sore from running all day yesterday and sleeping on a thin pallet. “What time is it?” I got up to grab a washcloth and started wiping my body. Once some of the blood splatters were gone, I got another cloth and started washing Maverick off, trying my best to avoid the painful blisters.
“Payne should be waking up any minute now. You slept for a while. How’s Maverick?” Cyler had his forehead pressed against the glass, and I could tell that it was killing him not to be in here with his brother.
“His blisters are worse. And his fever is critical. Do we have anything to help with the pain?” I asked.
Kemper started digging through a box nearby and pulled out a vial and syringe. Within seconds, he was passing it through a compartment under the door. I grabbed it and made quick work of filling it up with the pain killer. Easing over to him, I hovered the needle over a vein in his forearm, and the moment I injected the needle into his skin, chaos erupted. Maverick’s eyes slammed open, and he shot up into a seated position. I gasped as he clasped his hand around my neck, squeezing so tightly that a dark pressure began to build in my skull.
Kemper fumbled with the door, and I held my hand up to stop him. It was already bad enough that I was in here, risking contamination. The more the door opened, the more opportunities blood had to get on the others. I looked at Maverick before placing a hand on his chest. Cyler came over the intercom once more. “It’s Ash, Maverick. You’re hurting her.”
Mav swayed as his grip loosened some, and I sucked in air the moment I could. His hand was still there, though, and could cut off my air at any second. I looked Maverick in the eye and saw the exact moment clarity started to break through his flushed face. He completely loosened his grip before crashing me to his chest in a hug. He tried to speak, but only a whisper could come out. “I’m sorry.”
Since he attacked before I could finish administering the pain medicine, I pushed the last bit of medicine into his body before yanking the syringe out of his arm. Maverick sobbed into my hair before falling asleep, and I eased his body back down to the pallet.
“Ash, you need to sterilize and get out of there. We don’t know if Maverick is going to be an aggressive walker,” Cyler said. It sounded like his throat was closing in on himself as he spoke, emotion bubbling up through his chest.
I walked over to the glass and placed my palm against it. Patrick put his hand on the other side, aligning his fingers with mine. “I’m not leaving him alone.” There was no way in hell I’d leave him in this stupid quarantine room by himself. “He won’t hurt me,” I said with certainty.
I watched all of their expressions slip into varying forms of pity as they stared at me. I knew what they were all thinking. It was risky. “Maverick wouldn’t want you in a vulnerable position that could get you hurt,” Kemper said in a no-nonsense tone.
“I don’t want you getting hurt, and I don’t think I could handle storming in there and defending you against Maverick, Babe,” Cyler said.
I knew I was being stubborn. Staying with a temperamental person suffering from X was reckless. They moved in a mindless haze and attacked without reason. “He’s not at that point yet. He stopped just now, and I startled him mid-sleep with a needle. I’ve seen Jacob wake up throwing punches because I giggled.”
“Shit, Ash. I thought we weren’t going to mention that,” his mindspeak said, making all of us grin a bit. Jacob pressed his forehead against the glass. “I don’t think I could handle it if you got hurt.”
I let out a huff of air, which fogged up the glass. Using my blood-stained sleeve, I wiped it clear before speaking again. “I promise to leave before it gets to that point. If he starts showing any signs of aggression, I’ll get out of here as soon as possible,” I eventually promised. I could understand their point, and deep down, I knew that Maverick wouldn’t want me to be in any sort of danger, especially if that danger was him.
“Thank you, Babe,” Cyler said. Patrick blew me a kiss, and Jacob glanced at Maverick.
“We’re gonna finish the prep for when Payne gets here. We’re going to make sur
e that we have everything ready according to Maverick’s instructions,” Kemper said before going back to work wiping down countertops. I knew that they had been ready hours ago. Hell, the clinic looked better now than it did before the riots. They were making sure to cover all the bases during this critical waiting game we were playing.
I glanced over at the shower in the corner. It was one used in labs in case of emergency, but I was so covered in grime and soot that I didn’t care that it didn’t have a door. The only people here were my men, and I was anxious to get clean. Keeping my back to the door, I stripped from my shirt and pants, then slowly removed my bra and underwear. With every layer of clothing gone, it seemed like another pound of emotions was lifted from my shoulders. I could feel my guys’ eyes on my back. And when I looked down the drain, I saw Maverick’s blood.
I covered my hand over my mouth and sobbed. My chest was shaking as I poured the hopelessness I felt into my palm. Everything hurt. My heart. My brain. My muscles and soul. I could feel the loss of the last few months like a ton of bricks, and nothing could ease the pain.
“Ash,” a whispered prayer said. Soon, two blistered arms wrapped around me as I shook. Maverick.
“You should be resting,” I said before turning around. I nuzzled his neck as his clothes got soaked.
“I’m...ok. The pain meds…” I knew what he wanted to say and nodded. The pain medicine was working at least. Just a little longer. I worked the buttons on his shirt. It wasn’t a sexual act. I just wanted to wash his feverish body. I turned the temperature to cool and helped him out of his pants, tossing the drenched fabric to the side before grabbing a nearby washcloth.
“Love you,” he gritted out through clenched teeth.
“I love you, too,” I replied. I ran the cloth over his arms with tenderness, gently washing the multiple blisters covering his body. There were so many I couldn’t count them. Some were oozing, but his skin wasn’t nearly as feverish. That was the thing about X, the symptoms were what made a person’s last days so torturous. The best way to make a person’s passing easier was to manage the fever as best you could and keep the infected blisters clean.
