by Abi Ketner
Come on, Lexi, fight through this. Get up, damn it, and fight back.
But my body fails me, keeping me helpless. Again, I’ve failed. Again, I’m going to lose a friend. I hate myself for being weak. Because of me, trying to save me … someone I love is going to die.
The guards fan out from Wilson, creating a protective hedge around us. They open up gunfire as Wilson shrieks instructions. His high-pitched voice carries even above the noise. He grabs my gurney and whips me back toward the Commander’s quarters. My hair flies in my face, and the blanket slides off me. It gets tangled in the wheels and makes the gurney halt abruptly. I clench my teeth to keep from passing out as I slide forward.
“Damn you!” Wilson yells.
Meanwhile, Bill’s slowly coming to. His eyes flutter, and his fingers flex slowly. I lean off the gurney as Wilson tries, with impatient hands, to detangle the blanket from the wheels.
“Bill, get up!” I don’t know if I’m shouting anymore or just whispering, because the pain coats me like syrup, thick and suffocating, carrying me to some otherworldly place. I shut my eyelids to stop the spinning, and then reopen them as it settles.
“You. Don’t. Talk!” Wilson demands. He jumps up and slaps me across the face. Sparks soar through my vision as my head whips to the right.
Bill’s eyes flick to mine as guards come between us. He grabs his gun, face shocked, and stumbles upright as he fires off a few rounds into the guards separating us. They go down, and he moves toward me.
I shake my head vigorously. “Run. Now,” I mouth to him. He shakes his head. “GO!” I scream.
In a flash, Cole’s by his side. He’s loaded up for warfare, and the expression on his face screams insanity. He pulls Bill behind him and kills three more guards. Beside him, Zeus bares his teeth and snarls viciously. He stands poised, in his attack position, awaiting Cole’s order.
No, you shouldn’t be here! Seeing his face makes me want to yell at him and escape to him all at once. Cole sees me, and his agonized expression causes splinters to puncture my heart.
“Get … out of here,” I say through gritted teeth. I’m losing my touch with reality—I can feel everything fading slowly. “He’ll kill you!”
More guards emerge from the Commander’s quarters. Their never-ending stream of black boots and pressed uniforms files between me and Cole. They finally get the gurney wheels loose.
“Get her inside,” Wilson instructs a guard.
My insides twist. I don’t want to leave without seeing my friends and Cole get away safely. The look on Wilson’s face tells me he’s not planning on leaving survivors. He squints, sweat dripping from every pore on his face.
“Cole,” Wilson mutters to himself. “Just how did I know that would bring you out of hiding …” He lifts his gun as his face scrunches into a sneer.
I have no doubt who he’s aiming at. Fear explodes from my soul like a nuclear bomb.
Do something!
Against every fiber of my being, I lunge toward Wilson. My hand catches his belt, and I latch on with all of my strength. He stumbles, and I fall off the gurney. The entire thing topples over on us. Blankets flap lightly around us.
“Shit!” a guard yells. “Grab her!”
Next to me, Wilson curses, but I keep my grip like steel. The blankets tangle around us, like we’re kids fighting in a tent. My body wracks with sheer, knifing pain. I’m coughing, and blood sprays the blanket.
“Haul ass, Cole!” I hear Bruno barking over the melee.
“I’m not leaving her!”
“YOU’RE NO GOOD TO HER DEAD!” Bill screams.
Their desperate voices give me the determination I need to hold on to Wilson as he fights me. His fist lands on my head, sending flashes of light in front of my eyes. My hands loosen, and he scoots away. He tears the blankets away, and I search desperately for Cole. I see him standing in the road. He turns and pushes Bruno and Bill behind him, commanding Zeus to take off in the other direction. He fires one shot after the other. His dark eyes burn with fire.
Wilson takes aim.
Panic penetrates me. I’m lying on my side, completely useless.
Cole’s eyes connect with mine. GET OUT OF HERE! I want to scream at him, but nothing comes out, because I’ve got nothing left.
Wilson squeezes the trigger.
I hide my face and dig my fingers into the dusty ground when the gun goes off. The sound sends tremors throughout my entire body. Everything’s blurred: Cole’s body crumpling forward onto the ground. His blood spilling everywhere. Bruno’s wild, grief-shattering scream.
No!
Bruno’s terrified face. Zeus nudging Cole with his nose and whining. Bill’s anger as he shoots back at Wilson, and misses.
Get up. Cole, get up. Please.
Wilson lowers his gun, motioning his men forward. He smiles.
A blood curdling cry is trapped within me.
No. No, it can’t be.
Bruno and Bill latch on to Cole’s body and pull him away. His face is slack, and his arms drag beside him. Blood slides down his face in ribbons. I gasp. His skin. It’s ashen. His eyes stare lifelessly. I feel sick. Sick. Sick.
I puke blood.
Zeus runs with his tail between his legs, following the trail of Cole’s blood as Bruno and Bill drag him away. The guards close in, obscuring my view. Rough hands haul me onto the gurney. They strap me down, but they don’t need to. I’m not going to fight anymore. I don’t have the strength or the will.
Cole’s dead, and I have nothing left.
Nothing.
I’m begging for death. I want no part of this world without him.
My body feels like lead, and sorrow seeps from me in the form of tears. My death hasn’t come, but I have the feeling the Devil’s staring at me and laughing … just like Wilson. Does this mean I’m going to hell, if he’s sitting here waiting for me?
No, I won’t give in to this hallucination. Instead, I’ll wait for my dad to come get me, and Cole, and Keegan, and Grace, and Alyssa.I’ve lost too many people I love.
“Lexi?” I recognize that voice. My blood starts pumping through my heart once again, gaining pace. “No. No. No. Lexi, talk to me and tell me what happened.” A sniff. “Shane,” the familiar voice cracks.
“Right here,” someone else says.
“Grab IV fluids, and six units of 0 negative blood.”
“Sutton, there’s five units.”
Sutton? I know him. I think. Ohhhh … I love him! He’s here?
“Bring them,” Sutton says.
I manage to peek at the man beside me. His green scrubs are ragged, saggy, and stained with who the hell knows what. His face is thin and long. He has dark circles around his eyes, and the way he scrunches his forehead makes the creases in it more pronounced. His stethoscope presses against my chest as he counts out my heart rate. He doesn’t know I’m awake. Honestly, I’m not sure I am. I’m numb inside and out. Maybe I’m dead, or maybe I’m in one of my trances. Maybe there’s a drug better than morphine. Hell if I know.
Nope. I lied. There’s crushing pressure on my abdomen. I want the numbness back. I watch through slits between my eyelids as he assesses my injuries. Judging from the way Sutton’s lips press into a grim line as he steps back, his assessment isn’t great.
“What are we looking at?” the guy called Shane asks from the other side of the room. “How much time?”
“Vitals, Shane,” Sutton demands.
“Systolic blood pressure,” Shane sighs, “88. Diastolic 38. Heart rate, 142. Respirations, 36 breaths per minute.”
I’ve been in a hospital enough to know that my vitals are only going to get worse. My blood pressure’s dropping, my heart’s beating faster trying to pump enough blood to itself, and my brain’s starving for oxygen.
“Liz, IV kits and tubes for blood tests,” Sutton orders, his voice anxious. “Fluids. Blood, Shane, blood.”
“Got the IV kits,” says a female voice. “These are all we have. And why t
ake blood when she’s lost so much?”
“To check for an infection in her blood stream,” Shane answers.
“I’ll take the samples and start her two IV sites,” Sutton says. “Prep the room.”
“Already on it,” Liz says, her voice raising with the intensity of the atmosphere.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hey,” Sutton mutters distractedly, his head down. He’s focused on palpating my arm, trying to locate another vein. “Got both IV lines in,” he says to the room, securing the IV catheter.
“Sutton,” I whisper through my painfully dry mouth.
“One second, Lexi,” he says. A beat later, his head snaps up, and his mouth falls open. “Lexi!” A smile pushes at my lips. “Oh, bless!” He stands and kisses my forehead, letting out a sigh of relief. “You scared me.” Before I can say anything more, he’s back in doctor mode. “I’m taking you into surgery, we’ll talk later.”
“Cole,” I hiccup. “Wilson. Order.”
Sutton’s veins bulge in his forehead, ready to erupt at any minute. He removes his gloves before covering his entire face with his hands. He and rubs his face downward, stretching his skin as he goes, making him look even more weary. “His day is coming.”
“Cole?” I ask, confused. “Is … alive?”
Sutton just swallows.
“Let me go.” I take a quick shallow breath. “No more.” Another breath. “I’m done.”
“Lexi, I swear to you, when you wake up, you’re going to have a reason to want to live. You’ll see.” Sutton looks away, locking eyes with Shane across the room. Shane taps his foot pointedly.
“Come with me,” I whisper. I have to bite my lip to stem the tears. “Death is the only peace we’ll ever find.”
“Sweetheart, I feel your pain. I really do. You know how much I love Cole. But we still have another chance. You’re not going anywhere. Have faith in me.”
“Tell me.” I want to reach for his hand, but my movement is limited. Exasperation overtakes me.
He doesn’t say anything. He just points to something behind him. I make out a small black camera with a microphone attached. Of course Wilson’s watching and listening. Of course he’s monitoring every move Sutton makes. I give the camera the middle finger. Shane shakes his head, his expression changing to horror.
“Later,” Sutton mouths to me.
I groan. Is that fear shooting through his eyes? Just as quickly as it arrived, he clamps down on it, returning his face to a mask of a calm, collected medical professional.
Shane moves to the other side of me and hangs a bag of blood from an IV pole. He’s careful to avert his stare as he works. He presses a bunch of buttons, and when he’s done, a crimson liquid runs down the IV line. When it reaches the end, he hooks it up to my second IV and starts the infusion.
“All right,” Shane says. “Vital signs …”
“We’re ready,” Liz says. “Everything’s set up.”
“Lexi, I’m going to run and change,” Sutton says. “I’ll be right back.”
“You are knocking me out for this, right?” I ask.
“Of course.” He takes my hand in his and gives it a squeeze before he leaves the room. In his place, I feel an empty void.
Shane and Liz wheel me into a different area. Aside from all the medical equipment, the room’s shoddy. The drywall’s been slapped together, already crumbling in places. I can see it wasn’t done properly from the gaps at the bottom where the cement’s exposed. Brown water stains dot the once-white ceiling and nothing hangs on the walls. Even the doorway is just a heavy piece of wood, not metal like the other doors. And a camera scans it all from a corner, making a soft buzzing sound. My guess is that I’m in the new transformation and lab center created by Wilson after the first revolt. They must’ve erected it in a few weeks. Of course even the new section is supervised. That’s one thing Wilson would always require.
My lungs burn as they gently transfer me to a table. A man with a mask over his mouth and nose sits at the head of the table. There is a big machine to the right of me, and the smell of alcohol enters my nose, reminding me of Bill. Someone puts sticky things on my chest, and then my heart rhythm appears on a screen that the man in the mask watches carefully.
“SUTTON!” Shane screams suddenly. “We’re losing her. Systolic blood pressure 60, Diastolic pressure 35, heart rate 45!”
“Intubation tube,” Sutton calls.
“Here,” Shane says as he places a mask over my nose and mouth. A weird smell enters my nose. Everything’s blurry, and my eyes are heavy. Sutton’s face searches mine before the darkness sucks me under.
* * *
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. I force my eyes open and have to blink several times before they’re moist enough to function. My mouth’s a desert, and razors scratch at my throat when I try to swallow.
Dang, that beeping again.
“There she is.” Sutton sits at my side holding and stroking my hand. “Have any pain?”
Do I? I breathe without grimacing for the first time in a while, and the fire in my abdomen is gone. But then. I remember …
Cole falling in front of me, the blood pooling around his head. Wilson laughing as Bruno and Bill pull Cole’s body away.
Beep-beep-beep. It gets faster and faster.
“Lexi, try to calm down,” Sutton says.
“Cole?” I croak, my voice so hoarse I barely recognize it. My lip quivers, and my entire face aches as tears drip down it. “Tell me it wasn’t real.”
Sutton swallows. “Sweetheart, he’s gone.” Sutton’s face turns red, and his chest starts heaving as he leans over, resting his head right next to mine.
“Are you positive?” I ask.
“Wilson announced it,” Sutton says. His eye brim with tears. Together, we lose it.
He’s gone. Cole’s really gone. And I’m still here.
How is this right? It wasn’t supposed to go this way! I think about our future plans, the experiences I wanted to have with him, and I’m pulverized. The beeping beside me speeds up even more, but I don’t care. My world has caved in. I can barely breathe. A soul-crushing pain grinds my heart to bits. The pain’s so raw, so fresh, it’s debilitating. I have no drive, no energy, no steam left in me. I’m a deflated balloon.
Sutton lifts his head and blows his nose into a handkerchief. “How about Bruno?” he asks.
Alive, I hope.
“Grace?” He doesn’t know about Grace, he doesn’t know about her awful death.
I shake my head.
“What happened to her?”
“Shot.” Like Cole. Sutton’s face falls, his hands shake.
Sutton hands me a tissue, and I soak up the snot all over my face. But the tears won’t stop.
“Enough.”
Everything in me goes cold at the sound of that snake-like voice, and I feel Sutton recoil beside me.
“You two are making me ill.” A lump forms in my throat, and heat rises at the back of my eyes. Wilson enters into my peripheral vision and crosses his arms over his chest, his shoulders straight. As usual, his eyes have formed to slits. “I remember telling you, Sutton, that you’re not to have any sort of conversation with her whatsoever. Was I not speaking clearly enough? You are a brilliant man. Surely you’re capable of following simple orders.”
Sutton turns to face him slowly. “I am not your soldier,” he says quietly. “For months, I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. Excuse me for wanting to know the fate of those I love. Punish me if that’s what makes you feel in control. It’s what you do best, isn’t it? Watch people suffer at your hands?”
With a hiss, Wilson retrieves his gun from its holster at his side, and I try to jump out of bed. My body screams at me, and none of my limbs respond. But Wilson pauses with his gun held low. “Use that tone with me again, and I’ll gladly put a bullet through your skull.”
“Go ahead, do it,” Sutton says. “Without me, your plan will fail.”
“G
ive her whatever medication she needs to heal, and then leave,” Wilson says. “It’s time Lexi and I have a little chat.” There is no question, thanks to his expression, as to what exactly he means.
PLEASE. STAY. I can’t be left alone with him. As my fingers grasp the sheets, they begin to turn a ghoulish color. My own desperation eats at me. “You killed Cole, you heartless demon!”
Sutton sniffs. “Another worthless guard gone. Such a shame. Girl, you haven’t felt real pain or suffering yet. Trust me.”
Sutton gets up immediately, sensing the seriousness of Wilson’s threat. He walks away and returns with a syringe. He wipes the port on my IV with a pad soaked in alcohol and winks at me as he slowly administers the medication.
“There,” he says. “The Ativan will help dull your pain.”
I narrow my eyes at him, releasing the sheets and smiling. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, heading for the door. He closes the heavy door behind him.
Ativan. We used to use it to help calm Alyssa. She would sleep soundly after she got a dose. Sutton is beyond brilliant.
Wilson leans into my face, so close the smell of stale cigars makes me cough. My eyelids close as sleep pulls me away. This is so much better than talking with Wilson. I smile to myself.
The last words I hear …
“Sutton … you fool!”
Is it days or hours that pass without me knowing? Cole’s face melts away every time I wake, making me never want to wake up again. I beg for painless rest where I can be with him, his skin touching mine and his arms wrapped around me. I want to hold his gaze, so full of love and loyalty, to have him intertwine his fingers with mine and reassure me that everything’s going to be okay. But he’s not able to do that. He’s not coming back. I’m so tired of being here and being oppressed by my grief and fears all at once. The heavy block on my chest makes it hard to breathe.
Waking up breaks me all over again.
I’m haunted by the constant reminder that I’ll never hear his voice for as long as I’m alive. He’s not coming to get me, regardless of whether the others do. He’s not going to be there for me when it’s all over, if it ever ends. The pain just goes on and on and on like a merry-go-round from hell.
