by Marina Epley
Suddenly, Kitty lets out a shriek and jumps on me, shielding me with her body. We both fall to the ground. I hear another burst of gunfire coming from our right. Guardian’s soldiers must have flanked us from that side. I hadn’t seen them because of my blind eye.
The sudden, hammering impact leaves me unconscious for a few moments, as everything fades. Sharp pain pierces my entire body. I open my eyes and realize I’m lying on my back. I feel blood pulsating from my neck and oozing from wounds in my chest and stomach. I realize I’ve been shot multiple times. My mind is foggy. I can’t breathe correctly. Balancing somewhere between a dream world and reality, I manage to press my palm against the wound in my throat, trying to lessen the bleeding.
Something is wrong.
I can’t find the wound where the bullet penetrated. I look at my fingers and realize there’s no blood. My breathing slowly normalizes and the pain begins to recede. I stare at my hand in confusion for a few more moments, then it dawns on me.
I haven’t been shot. These are not my sensations.
Terrified, I sit up and look around. I find Kitty lying on her side beside me. Her eyes are opened wide and glazed over. A large puddle of blood spreads slowly beneath her bullet-riddled body.
She took my bullets, I realize. Horrified, I close my eyes and for the slightest moment I’m just not here. We’re far away in a safe place. This can’t be real, I think, I must be still dreaming. This must all just be a really bad dream from which I need to awaken.
Kneeling beside her, I press my hand against the large wound on her neck. I feel her warm blood oozing between my fingers.
“Hold on Kitty,” I mutter. “Please, stay with me.”
I don’t know whether or not she can hear me. Her eyes hold no expression and her face is deathly pale. Listening closely, I can just make out her shallow, labored breathing. I realize she is dying.
I begin to panic, scared out of my mind. I don’t know what to do.
“Hold on, Kitty,” I repeat. “Please don’t leave me.”
How could she have done that? Why did she take bullets intended for me? I didn’t ask for this. This can’t be happening.
“Silly girl,” I whisper. “What have you done?”
My throat clenches. I can’t speak. I continue my desperate attempts to slow her bleeding. It’s not working out too well. I can still hear gunfire and shouting nearby, but don’t bother to look around. I don’t care what’s happening out there. I can’t worry about anything, except Kitty.
Marcus and Chase approach, saying something. I don’t comprehend their words. I realize it’s quiet now. I notice several more officers in black walking toward us.
I carefully pick up Kitty’s limp body from the ground and stagger a few steps toward the Elimination trucks. I feel very weak and my legs are wobbly. Marcus takes Kitty from my arms, continuing to speak softly. His eyes look concerned. Chase grabs me by an elbow, pulling me forward and following Marcus.
The trip to the hospital seems torturously long. Kitty lies across two seats inside the truck, her eyes still open but unfocused. Blood continues dripping from her wounds. I kneel on the floor, clutching her hand. She moves her lips, emitting a hissing sound from her throat.
“Hold on, Kitty,” I say. “Please don’t leave me.”
“I saved you,” she whispers. “I repaid my… debt.”
She manages a weak painful smile.
“Just stay awake,” I beg. “Stay with me, Kitty.”
I have some odd thought that Kitty may be able to pull through all this, should she only remain conscious.
“Please, stay with me,” I repeat, gently touching her cheek. My hands are shaking.
Her eyes close as she passes out.
***
I’m sitting on the floor in front of the intensive care unit. I’m looking off into space trying to steady my still shaking hands. I’ve been waiting for some news on Kitty for four full hours. Those coming out have told me that they couldn’t offer any prognosis yet. I feel like they are concealing the truth from me. I tried to stay with her, but the doctors forced me out of the ICU. They offered me a sedative, which I refused to take. I have to stay focused and be able to understand everything.
Don’t leave me, I repeat over and over in my mind. Don’t you dare leave me, Kitty. I won’t be able to survive, if I lose her.
My team, along with Rebecca and Marian, arrived a short time ago. They all sit nearby, keeping quiet. There’s simply nothing left to say or do. My sister is crying, covering her face. Rebecca gives her a supportive hug. Tears roll down her cheeks as well, but she’s not sobbing. Holtzmann paces the corridor, talking to himself. He looks devastated. I guess he’s the one needing to be sedated. He seems to be on the verge of one of his epileptic fits.
Jessie approaches and motions for me to follow. I rise unsteadily to my feet, walking behind her. She opens a window, and offers me a cigarette. I believe it’s going to be my third smoke within the hour.
Don’t leave me, I repeat in my thoughts. Please, stay with me, Kitty.
I have no idea whether she’s still even alive or not.
Doctors finally emerge from the intensive-care unit. I toss the cigarette butt out the window and head toward them. My pulse races and legs become wobbly again.
They still refuse to offer a prognosis. Kitty remains critical and in a coma, one with no guarantee she’ll ever be able to come out of.
“Will she live?” I ask in a hollow voice.
They don’t answer. After a long pause one of the doctors says, “Doesn’t look good, she’s sustained considerable damage to almost every vital organ. Her lungs have collapsed and her heart may fail at any moment.”
He continues speaking, avoiding looking directly into my eyes. I can’t comprehend half of the words he’s saying. What I do understand is that Kitty is in terrible shape. One of the bullets crushed her spine. It’s impossible at this point to know whether she’ll be able to survive such severe injuries. And even if Kitty does survive, she would likely remain paralyzed for the rest of her life.
“Just keep her alive,” I say calmly.
After the doctors leave, I sit back down on the floor to begin waiting again. What does it really matter to me if she’s paralyzed? Why worry about such things when her life is in danger? Invalid or not, all I want is for Kitty to live. I’ll never give up on her. I’ll never leave her. I’ll always do my best to take care of her. We can handle it. Everything will be all right, if only she survives.
Only now I’m fully understanding that Kitty may actually die. Up till now I was trying to block such thoughts, but it suddenly hits me.
I begin praying. I’ve never prayed before, so I don’t know how to do it right. I just repeat quietly the same words, “Let her live. Please, let her live. Don’t take her from me.”
I don’t know whether anybody is listening or not.
***
Several hours later a doctor approaches, announcing that Kitty has come out of her coma.
“You should see her now,” he suggests.
“Is she going to live?” I ask, rising to my feet.
The doctor doesn’t answer, looking into the floor.
“You should see her now,” he repeats.
I proceed inside the intensive-care unit. There are machines and tubes all over the place. One machine produces a monotone beeping sound which fills the room. Kitty lies on her back on a gurney in the middle of the room, covered with a thin white sheet. A tube has been inserted into her neck, hooked up to a machine ventilating her lungs. Slowly, I approach her gurney. Her face resembles a waxen mask, her eyes only slightly open.
“Hey sweetie, how you feeling?” I say. I want to add something more, but my throat closes. I can’t speak for a few moments.
“Rex, is that you?” Kitty manages to whisper. “Where are you?”
“It’s me,” I say, taking her limp, cold hand. “And I’m right here.”
Kitty remains silent for a while.
I experience a sudden wave of dizziness. I steady myself and say, “You’ll be all right. Just stay with me.”
I squeeze her fingers tightly, as if afraid she may die should I release her hand.
“Rex, I’m sorry but I think I won’t make it this time,” she says calmly. “I’m so tired.”
“You’ll make it all right,” I answer. “You’ll recover in time. I’ve been shot in the head and I’m perfectly fine. And you’ll be fine, too.”
I don’t know whom I’m trying to persuade more, Kitty or myself.
“Are you proud of me?” she whispers.
“I’ve always been proud of you, Kitty.”
“Do you love me?”
“I love you more than anything in the world.”
My voice cracks and I become quiet. I feel a strong urge to do something, help her somehow, but there’s nothing I can think of to do.
“Promise me something,” she mutters.
“What’s that, Kitty?”
She manages to focus her gaze and look up at me.
“Promise to survive,” she says. “Promise to live and be happy for both of us. And never forget me.”
“Please don’t say those things,” I plead. “You’ll recover. You’ll be all right.”
“Don’t be sad,” Kitty whispers, smiling. “Everything is okay. You’ll be fine.”
She fades out again. I stand beside her, still gripping her hand. A moment later the machine begins beeping loudly, and doctors rush back into the room. Somebody grabs me by the shoulders and leads me toward the exit.
In the corridor, my legs give and I sit down hard on the floor. I can’t hear or see anything. I start praying again.
“Please, let her live,” I repeat. “Please, don’t let her die.”
Rebecca approaches, saying something. I stare at her blankly and turn away. She leaves me alone. I continue whispering my prayers. And at some point I manage to persuade myself that everything will be all right. Kitty will survive, because she just can’t die. It’d be too pointless and cruel. She’s young and has her whole life ahead of her.
I hear somebody’s voice. I look up tiredly. It takes a moment to realize that a doctor stands before me. He must have said something, but I couldn’t understand.
“What?” I ask.
“I’m very sorry,” the doctor repeats. “We did everything we could.”
Chapter 28
This can’t be right. She can’t be dead. There must be some kind of mistake.
I stare vacantly at the doctor, without actually seeing him. He continues speaking, but I can’t hear his words. Why listen further to anything he has to say? He must be talking nonsense, because Kitty can’t be dead.
I brush past the doctor, heading toward the ICU. He says something else, probably directing me to stop, but I ignore him. I have to see Kitty. I have to prove to everybody, including myself, that all this is just a stupid mistake.
I enter the intensive care unit. I approach the gurney where Kitty lies. She is covered by the same white sheet, now stained red in a few places. She’s motionless and pale, but doesn’t necessarily look dead. She may just be sleeping or still in a coma. I refuse to believe that she could be actually gone.
I reach toward Kitty’s face, but hesitate to touch her at the last moment. My fingers linger an inch away from her skin. I suddenly become afraid that this one single touch could destroy my last hope. What if Kitty happens to be stiff and cold, like all those corpses I’ve seen over the past several months? I’d have to accept the unbearable truth that Kitty is dead. But as long as I don’t have such undeniable proof, I might be able to push the unimaginable thought aside. I’m able to block and ignore it. But if something indicates that she’s truly dead, one unquestionable thing…
I touch Kitty’s face and her skin is still soft and warm. I feel a flood of relief. She could very well be just asleep or in a coma. And sooner or later Kitty should definitely wake up.
***
Another part of me realizes that Kitty is gone. That everything is over. And nothing will ever awaken her from her sleep.
She really left me.
Kitty was always afraid that I’d leave her, but in the end it’s her who’s left me.
This is all wrong, I think suddenly. Everything is so messed up. Her death doesn’t make any sense. It’s so meaningless. I was supposed to be the one protecting Kitty, not vice versa. I mean, protecting her is the whole purpose behind anything I do. Providing her a chance for freedom was the singular reason I allowed Elimination to capture me and agreed to work for Warden Browning. Protecting her is the reason I chose to take part in Holtzmann’s experiment in the first place. Everything was done because I wanted to save Kitty. And after all that, she took the bullets meant for me. She gave her life for me.
There was something she said. Promise to live and be happy for both of us.
Her final request. But how am I supposed to continue living, let alone be happy? What am I supposed to do in this world without her?
“For God’s sake Kitty,” I groan. “What have you done? How could you leave me now?”
Of course, she doesn’t offer an answer to my questions.
I gently caress her cheek, looking down at her face. I tightly squeeze her fingers in my hand. Kitty has a calm, relaxed expression in death. I quietly hope for her to yawn, open her eyes and smile at me.
But Kitty remains asleep.
I watch her for a few more moments, then lean in closer and kiss her lips. They’re soft. I wait for Kitty to awaken, but she doesn’t. I place my good ear next to her chest, listening intently. I can’t hear a heartbeat nor feel a breath. She’s lifeless. And no matter what I try, it won’t bring her back.
***
Somebody enters the room. I turn around, startled. I’ve almost forgotten that there were other people in this hospital, besides Kitty and myself. It’s Chase. He mutters something about medics and the body.
“What body?” I ask stupidly, not understanding.
Chase repeats what he said. I realize that doctors have asked for me to leave the ICU, so that they might take away the body.
“Damn you Chase!” I exclaim. “Don’t call her a body. This is Kitty! And she’s just sleeping!”
“Rex…,” he begins uncertainly.
“Get out,” I say firmly. “I won’t let anybody touch her.”
Chase’s expression becomes worried.
“Rex, I’m afraid you’re losing it,” he says.
“Get out,” I repeat. “There must be some sort of mistake. The doctors have misdiagnosed her. Kitty can’t be dead. Her death wouldn’t make any sense. No, she’s just sleeping or in a coma.”
Chase continues staring at me. I smile broadly, to show that everything is all right. It’s odd to see him so dumbfounded and worried. When Kitty awakens, I’m sure we’ll all laugh over this ridiculous situation.
Holtzmann, Rebecca and Marian linger in the doorway, hesitating to approach. I wonder whether they overheard our conversation. They probably did, because they all share the same concerned looks on their faces.
Chase requests for me to follow him out into the corridor. I shake my head no, still smiling. He suggests how we’ll eventually have to bury the body.
“Damn it!” I exclaim. “Here you go again. Stop calling her a body.”
Chase moves closer to me, taking me by an elbow. I slap him hard, just to distract him. As Chase stares at me in astonishment, I snatch the gun out of his holster. I point the barrel directly into his face.
“Now get out,” I repeat calmly.
The officer freezes, staring point blank down the barrel.
“Easy, breaker,” he says.
The others begin speaking all at once. I ignore them.
“Leave us be,” I command.
He stands unmoving, probably calculating whether he should risk attacking me or not. I th
umb the hammer, demonstrating my willingness to use it. Chase slowly backs away.
Rebecca and Marian continue speaking. Holtzmann remains quiet, his expression one of shock. I wave the gun at them, commanding them all to leave. They finally do so, leaving me alone with Kitty in the ICU.
I touch Kitty’s cheek, smiling down at her. I won’t let anybody take her from me. And I certainly can’t let them bury her. Because it’s not too late, and I might still find a way to fix everything. There must be a way out. Her precious life can’t just end like that.
I gently lift Kitty up off the gurney, wrapping her in the blood-stained sheet. I sit down on the floor, holding her tightly in my arms. I softly explain to her how much I love her. How happy I am to have her in my life. Her eyes remain closed and her body is limp and motionless. Her face is gradually getting a bit colder. But none of this bothers me.
Chase reopens the door, stepping in the doorway. I raise the gun.
“Rex, calm down,” he says. “You’re stronger than this.”
“Get out,” I say, “before I shoot you in the face.”
Chase decides not to test my willingness to shoot him, and likely find out the hard way, so he closes the door.
I begin telling Kitty soothing stories. These are the same stories I told her when she first came to me. Retelling them brings an avalanche of warm, happy memories. I smile, continuing to whisper to her.
Rebecca is the next one to try and steal her away.
“Rex, please,” she pleads, standing by the door. “Allow the doctors to come in and help you.”
I train the gun on Rebecca.
“Don’t try me,” I warn.
Rebecca’s eyes widen in shock. She opens her mouth to add something more, but can’t utter a sound. She looks really surprised. I like Rebecca a lot, but I’m likely to gun her down without a second thought should she attempt to take Kitty. Kitty is mine, and nobody will take her from me.
